HOW THE RAIN CAME 



the pasture was dry and hard with the 

 leanness of the long summer drought. 



To-day has come the first of the fall 

 rains and these puritans are stern and 

 set no longer, but relax into swaying 

 curves of lissome beauty that entrance 

 you. It is as if, after coming as you 

 thought to a Sunday service of the old 

 Calvinists, you found it transformed into 

 a grange picnic of wood nymphs. 



The pines indeed, which always stretch 

 out their arms in Sabbath-like benedic- 

 tion, seem asking a pious blessing on all 

 these, their pasture children; and they 

 fold their slim leaves together like hands 

 in a soft prayer of thankfulness. But 

 the soft rain cuddles them as well, and 

 before they know it they are decked with 

 the clear pearls as for a bridal and their 

 plumes nod in reverence, yet are so 

 beautiful in gems and there is such a 

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