LXFI. — A Spring Shower 



A FEW days ago we had an ideal shower, 

 warm, still and occasionally shot with 

 sunshine. The necessity of doing the 

 chores drove me out of it and I was glad. 

 Putting on an old overcoat that did not owe me 

 any money, and an old felt hat, long innocent of 

 the block — it showed a quarter pitch from the peak 

 to the brim — I slopped around for a happy half 

 hour. But, though I was happy, the ducks were 

 happier. They were not only in their element, but 

 they were enjoying a banquet. The frost had come 

 out of the ground and the angle-worms had come 

 to the surface. I don't think the ducks missed one 

 of them — all of which made me try to remember 

 whether Darwin in his study of earthworms noted 

 their economic value as poultry food. The hens 

 are every bit as fond of thom as the ducks, but 

 they are not so fond of the rair. But there are 

 other things that like to feel the warm, splashy 

 drops. I had to turn out the cows for a drink, and 



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