WILD PASTURES 



There was no glow of rich color in 

 the sky at sunset. Instead the dusk 

 hung violet gray draperies all about the 

 horizon, curtains that veiled but did 

 not hide the evening stars, shutting them 

 almost out near the horizon and leaving 

 them comparatively clear at the zenith. 

 In such dusk stars do not twinkle, they 

 blink, and that is a sign of rain which 

 all the pasture people that have eyes 

 know well. 



Those that have ears and no eyes may 

 know what sort of a night it is as well, 

 for there is some quality in such an at- 

 mosphere which makes sounds carry far. 

 The rap of a paddle on a canoe seat a 

 mile away up the pond sounds right in 

 your ear. A train roaring through the 

 wood three miles distant seems so near 

 that you involuntarily look around lest 

 it be coming behind and run over you. 

 230 



