108 Star anfr Meatbet Gossip 



break-up of the summer weather. But that one did 

 not, for it remained fine during several succeeding 

 days. It may be assumed that what the Filey fisher- 

 man saw was a true solar halo. 



I will close this chapter with an old rhyme on the 

 signs of foul weather : 



The hollow winds begin to blow ; 

 The clouds look black, the glass is low ; 

 The soot falls down, the spaniels sleep ; 

 And spiders from their cobwebs peep. 



Last night the sun went pale to bed ; 

 The moon in halos hid her head. 

 The boding shepherd heaves a sigh, 

 For, see, a rainbow spans the sky. 



The walls are damp, the ditches smell, 

 Closed is the pink-ey'd pimpernel. 

 Hark ! how the chairs and tables crack, 

 Old Betty's joints are on the rack : 

 Her corns with shooting pains torment her, 

 And to her bed untimely sent her. 



Loud quack the ducks, the sea-fowl cry, 

 The distant hills are looking nigh. 

 How restless are the snorting swine ! 

 The busy flies disturb the kine. 



Low o'er the grass the swallow wings, 

 The cricket, too, how sharp he sings ! 

 Puss on the hearth, with velvet paws, 

 Sits wiping o'er her whisker'd jaws. 



The smoke from chimneys right ascends, 

 Then, spreading, back to earth it bends. 

 The wind unsteady veers around, 

 Or settling in the south is found. 



