68 Tenants. 



with the roof, the horses ran to the protection of the house 

 and, wheeling about, placed their heads in the most shel- 

 tered situation. There they would stand, with their heads 

 under the piazza roof viewing me with mild, patient eyes, 

 and waiting for the storm to go over. 



Another shelter from the rain was the old chicken 

 house behind the barn, and oft have I sat in the nests on 

 the leaves that had blown therein from the neighboring 

 trees. They were the collection of years, for the nests 

 had been eggless for a long time, and the door gone from 

 its hinges. Now and then a cow came and placed her 

 head on the pole nailed athwart the doorway, reached her 

 nose as far out toward me as she could, and gave several 

 sniffs of surprise. I used to regard the withered leaves 

 affectionately, for they were the souvenirs of some past 

 Summer, and chance had saved them from decay. The 

 breeze that rustled in the neighboring green trees caused 

 them to gyrate about the floor, and, no doubt, many were 

 lost through the open door-way. 



The wild mice had stored many nuts and seeds in the 

 convenient nooks in the roof, and the nests were well 

 stocked with remnants of their feasts that had dropped 

 from the beams above. There was a blending of Summer 

 and Winter in the scene that was ever interesting. I could 

 hear the z-ing of the harvest flies without, whose song might 

 be termed the essence of Summer, for no sound has more 

 of Summer in its tone, while within were the withered 

 leaves and the gnawed nuts from the mouse's Winter store. 



Occasionally a gray squirrel hopped about beneath the 

 trees, and at evening the rabbits came from their hiding. 



