TIMES AND SEASONS. 



Yet another, by the same pleasant writer, on 

 the banks of the same mighty river:— "The flowers 

 that bloomed by day have closed their petals, 

 and, nestled in their leafy beds, are dreaming of 

 their loves. A sister host now take their place, 

 making the breezes to intoxicate with perfume, 

 and exacting homage from bright, starry eyes. A 

 murmur, as of gentle voices, floats upon the air. 

 The moon darts down her glittering rays, till the 

 flower-enamelled plain glistens like a shield ; but 

 in vain she strives to penetrate the denseness, 

 except some fallen tree betrays a passage. Be- 

 low, the tall tree-trunk rises dimly through the 

 darkness. Huge moths, those fairest of the insect 

 world, have taken the places of the butterflies, 

 and myriads of fire-flies never weary in their 

 torchlight dance. Far down the road comes on a 

 blaze, steady, streaming like a meteor. It whizzes 

 past, and for an instant the space is illumined, 

 and dewy jewels from the leaves throw back the 

 radiance. It is the lantern-fly, seeking what he 

 himself knows best, by the fiery guide upon his 

 head. The air of the night-birds wing fans your 

 cheek, or you are startled by his mournful note, 

 'wac-o-row, wac-o-row,' sounding dolefully — by no 

 means so pleasantly as our whip-poor-will. The 

 armadillo creeps carelessly from his hole, and, at 

 slow pace, makes for his feeding ground; the 

 opossum climbs stealthily up the tree, and the 

 little ant-eater is out pitilessly marauding.*** 



Dr. Livingstone has sketched the following 

 pleasing picture of a midnight in the very heart of 

 Africa ; but romantic as the region is, it lacks the 

 gorgeousness of the South American forest : — 



"We were close to the reeds, and could listen to 

 the strange sounds which we often heard there. 



* Edwards's kk Voyage up the Amazon," p. 30. 

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