584 KANSAS CITY REVIEW OF SCIENCE. 



It is, perhaps, curious that in the writings of Shakespeare we find no refer- 

 ence 10 the sunset as an augury for the day to come. Nor is the rainbow men- 

 tioned, concerning the signification of which there exist not a few contradictory 

 proverbs. All, we think, agree that a rainbow in the morning is a bad sign. But 

 the English countryman is apt to regard — 



"A rainbow at night 

 As the shepherd's delight." 



The French peasant, on the contrary, says, more wisely, as we think : 



" Arc en ciel du soir 

 II faut voir." 



Certainly in settled fair weather rainbows, either at morning or night, are not 

 likely to make their appearance. 



The cry of the owl seems to have been held as characteristic of stormy 

 weather : 



" The olpscure bird 

 Clamoured the live-long night." 



Macbeth, Act II., Sc. 5. 



It may be doubted whether this circumstance is mentioned as characteristic 

 of stormy weather, or as an omen that mischief of other kinds was about. We 

 have never met with any popular saying which connected the voice of the owl 

 with rain and storm, nor have we observed it to be a " weather-wise" bird. The 

 notion that its hooting is a sign of death has been common for centuries. Some 

 wise man attempted to explain this supposed fact by the assumption that the owl 

 smells the approach of death in a sick man, and flutters screaming round his 

 house in an effort to get at the body. This is a curious collection of blunders. 

 The owl prefers, like a true sportsman, to kill game for its own dinner, and does 

 not care for a prey which has died a natural death. Secondly, the bird has, by 

 no means, a very acute sense of smell, and would be utterly unable to detect the 

 odour of a dead or dying man outside the house. She is very possibly attracted 

 by a hght in the sick chamber, and puzzled thereby, as are sea-fowl by a light- 

 house, flutters around instead of attending to her lawful business. 



The notion of the unwholesonieness of the night air must have been already 

 current in Shakespeare's time. We read : 



" To dare the vile contagion of the night, 

 And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air.'^ 

 Julius Ccesar, Act II., Sc. 3. 



It is indisputable that in malarious districts the night air is especially danger, 

 ous. But it may well be doubted if the extreme dread of the night air common 

 in England is anything more than a superstition. There are many people who — 

 whatever may be the temperature, and how dry and calm soever the weather — 

 would be horrified at sleeping with their bed-room windows open. It has hap- 



