226 NATURE'S STORY OF THE YEAR 



night ; and the fiery spark of a laborious existence 

 has been quenched. 



It is early morning, so early that the waning 

 moon has risen but a few degrees above the 

 horizon, where she rides through the fleecy clouds 

 like a good ship on foamy waves. There is only 

 light enough to reveal the dim outlines of the near 

 hills, the shadowy woods and vacant sloping 

 meadows. Overhead, thick mists are torn by a 

 breeze, and hurried in a tumult. Through the 

 gaps the stars are glimmering. Rain will fall 

 to-day, for fleecy clouds portend bad weather ; 

 but the air is now dry and warm, and full of soft 

 odours, which suggest that in the valley below are 

 green fields and moist woods, and that away 

 beyond lies the Atlantic. 



The lightening of the eastern horizon is not the 

 only indication of approaching day ; far down in 

 the valley, twinkling points of light show that 

 human energy is preparing to conquer human toil. 

 In the near farm the rooster sounds a spirited 

 alarum to the drowsing owl. A whispered cry 

 overhead betrays the flight of a thrush. What can 



