AUGUST 



17 



The leaves of the elms on the dry highways be- 

 gin to roll up. I have to lift my hat to let the air 

 cool my head. But I find a refreshing breeze from 

 over the river and meadow. In the hottest day 

 you can be comfortable in the shade on the open 

 shore of a pond or river, where a zephyr comes 

 over the water sensibly cooled by it ; that is, if the 

 water is deep enough to cool it. 



THOKEAU: Summer. 



18 



Thoreau speaks of rain waking the lichens into 

 life, and we saw this as never before. Not only 

 does it bring out the colors and give a brightness 

 and richness they show at no other time, but it 

 raises the leaves if one may so call them 

 makes them stand out fresh. The beeches were 

 marvelous with many shades of green, and of pink, 

 from a delicate blush over the whole tree, to bright 

 vermilion in small patches. . . . Every hollow un- 

 der the trees had become a clear pond to reflect 

 these beauties, and lively little brooks ripple across 

 the path, adding to the woods the only thing they 

 lacked, running water. 



OLIVE THORNE MILLER: Little Brothers of the Air. 



