282 NATURAL lIISnjRV (JF Till-: FARM 



little, and a flood of H^lit flows in on the freshened atmosphere. 

 The rain ceases and the \-erdiire of the earth a])pears, slaked 

 and washed clean. 



We do not, naturall}-, seek to kee]) out of the rain. As 

 children, we soui^ht to be out in it. The wann summer rain 

 was as refreshing as sunshine. It is due to our clothes 

 that we avoid getting wet. Our modeni attire is set 

 up with starch and glue, and the rain wilts it. For the siike 

 of such artificial toggery, we sacrifice some pleasures that are 

 part of our natural birthright. 



Other creatures enjoy the rain. At its approach, many 

 of them enter u])on unusual activities. Insects swarm. 

 The rabbits by the roadside become more familiar. They 

 approach nearer to our doors, and sit longer amid the clover 

 when we come near them. Snakes run more in the open; 

 indeed, a snake in the open roadway is a venerable "sign" 

 of rain. Chickens oil their feathers, alternately pressing the 

 oil-gland and preening w4th their beaks; and if they get well 

 waterproofed before the storni breaks, and if the dowTi]30ur 

 be not too heavy, they will then stay out in it, and enjoy it. 

 Many birds sing more persistently — ^notably the cuckoo, 

 which doubtless, from this habit got the name "rain-crow." 

 Frogs croak vociferously, as if in ])leasant anticipation. 

 Flowers bend their heads. 



When it rains, the moisture-loving tilings come forth. 

 Slime-molds creep out over the logs. Mushrooms spring 

 up. Slugs and millepedes and pill-bugs wander forth into 

 the open, and earthworms, as well, at night. And e\-ery- 

 where rumiing water is ]:>erfomiing its great functions of 

 burden-bearing, cutting, filling, leveling, and slowly cliiuiging 

 the toi)ography of the land, and distributing all mamier of 

 seeds over its surface. There is plenty to see and plenty to 

 hear when it rains. 



