THE WHIP-POOR-WILL. 37 



following morning avoided. The earth continued 

 to heave before the wind, the birds to fly hither 

 and thither, while the doctor was mindful of the 

 gallipots in his store-room. 



In the bewilderment of his distress, forgetful 

 of closing the door, spreading out his arms, jump- 

 ing before his glass cases, and pushing back the 

 falling jars, he assisted the catastrophe with so 

 much success, that, before the shock was over, 

 all his possessions were lost. The ladies, con- 

 scious at length of their dishabille, and intimi- 

 dated now from a different motive, fled in dismay 

 to their several apartments. 



In the mountains, or more sterile portions of 

 the Union, as in the open Barrens of Kentucky, 

 it is that the curious note of the whip-poor-will 

 is heard. It is seldom seen during the day, when 

 it seeks some shady spot for its slumbers, hav- 

 ing for a couch, generally, the low branches of 

 trees and shrubs. Commencing its labours with 

 the disappearance of the sun, it then passes over 

 the bushes, sweeps repeatedly in different direc- 

 tions over the fields, and skims the skirts of 

 forests, alighting occasionally on the ground, to 

 secure insects as its prey. Its flight is low, light, 

 and swift. So noiseless is the motion of its wings, 

 as to be inaudible by a person, even within a few 

 feet of it, — it is recognized in the darkness only 

 by the low murmuring sound it utters, and the 

 4 



