JUNE. 157 



filled with romantic feelings born of the surroundings 

 and of my scanty knowledge of their past history. It is 

 a confession of weakness, perhaps, but tales of long ago, 

 the fireside stories that my grandparents knew so well, 

 are of greater interest to me than all else ; so, while I 

 walked, the roadside and beyond were restored to those 

 marvelous conditions of colonial times that forever haunt 

 my fancy. 



The delightful uncertainty of threatening days is 

 something for which to be thankful. It is no drawback 

 at the threshold of a June morning to have some gray- 

 beard scan the wrapped sky and assure you with an air of 

 wisdom that " it looks kind o' threatenin'." 



What if it does ? Must we crawl back to bed, or, like 

 the ground-hog, because he sees his shadow in February, 

 anticipate foul weather and resume our seclusion ? It is 

 exhilarating to take the chances. We have the excitement 

 of gambling without its moral degradation. If after all it 

 proves a clear day, as it is very likely to do for the coun- 

 try folk's predictions, like dreams, often go by contraries 

 one feels like the fool he really is, if he stayed at home. 

 If the rambler ventures abroad notwithstanding the pre- 

 diction and the day. proves stormy, the chances are many 

 in his favor that he will have the world to himself, which 

 always overbalances the discomfort caused by rain. And 

 herein lies the reason : Looking over page after page of 

 June field-notes, covering many years, I find that a gentle 

 rain has no depressing effect upon animal life, and it 

 occasionally produces the opposite effect. Let me par- 

 ticularize. Not long since, heavy banks of cold, gray 

 clouds rested upon the distant tree-tops, a chilling mist 

 obscured the meadows, and the east wind petulantly dash- 

 ing against the tide, alike foretold the coming storm. 

 Notwithstanding the forbidding outlook, I pushed my 



