136 OUTDOOR STUDIES 
at nightfall, the boat all decked with clematis, 
clethra, laurel, azalea, or water-lilies, while pur- 
ple sunset clouds turned forth their golden lin- 
ings for drapery above our heads, and then, 
unrolling, sent northward long, roseate wreaths 
to outstrip our loitering speed, and reach the 
floating bridge before us. 
It is nightfall now. One by one the birds 
grow silent, and the soft dragon-flies, children 
of the day, are fluttering noiselessly to their 
rest beneath the under sides of drooping leaves. 
From shadowy coves the evening air is thrust- 
ing forth a thin film of mist to spread a white 
floor above the waters. The gathering dark- 
ness deepens the quiet of the lake, and bids us, 
at least for this time, to forsake it. “ De soir 
Sontaines, de matin montaignes,” says the old 
French proverb, — Morning for labor, evening 
for repose. 
