UNDER THE MAPLES 



his back wet, but why a well-dressed bird like the 

 cuckoo should become a prophet of the rain is a 

 mystery, unless the rain and the shadows are con- 

 genial to the gloomy mood in which he usually 

 seems to be. He is the least sprightly and cheery 

 of our birds, and the part of doleful prophet in our 

 bird drama suits him well. 



A high barometer is best for the haymakers and 

 it is best for the human spirits. When the smoke 

 goes straight up, one's thoughts are more likely to 

 soar also, and revel in the higher air. The persons 

 who do not like to get up in the morning till the 

 day has been well sunned and aired evidently 

 thrive best on a high barometer. Such days do 

 seem better ventilated, and our lungs take in fuller 

 draughts of air. How curious it is that the air 

 should seem heavy to us when it is light, and light 

 when it is heavy! On those sultry, muggy days 

 when it is an effort to move, and the grasshopper 

 is a burden, the air is light, and we are in the 

 trough of the vast atmospheric wave; while we 

 are on its crest, and are buoyed up both in mind and 

 in body, on the crisp, bright days when the air 

 seems to offer us no resistance. We know that the 

 heavier salt sea-water buoys us up more than the 

 fresh river or pond water, but we do not feel in the 

 same way the lift of the high barometric wave. 

 Even the rough, tough-coated maple-trees in spring 

 are quickly susceptible to these atmospheric 



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