18 Wild Life in a Southern County. 
its margin stretching out in an uneven fringe: the 
process is almost exactly like the unravelling of a spot- 
less garment, the threads wavering and twisting as they 
are carried along by the current, diminishing till they 
fade and are lost in the ocean of blue. This breaking 
of the clouds is commonly seen in weather that pro- 
mises to be fine. From the brow here, you may note 
a solitary cloud just risen above the horizon; it 
floats slowly towards us; presently it divides into 
several parts; these, again, fall away in jagged, 
irregular pieces like flecks of foam. By the time it 
has reached the zenith these flecks have lengthened 
out, and shortly afterwards the cloud has entirely 
melted and is gone. The delicate hue, the contrast 
of the fleecy white with the deepest azure, the ever- 
changing form, the light shining through the gauzy 
texture, the gentle dreamy motion, lend these clouds 
an exquisite beauty. 
After a while the faint breeze increases, but 
changes in character ; it blows steadily, and the ‘sish 
sish’ of the bennets as it rushes through them be- 
comes incessant. A sense of oppression weighs on the 
chest—in the midst of the wind, on the verge of the 
hill, you sigh for a breath of air. This is not air: it 
is simply heat in motion. It is like the simoom of 
the desert—producing a feeling of intense weariness. 
Previously the distant ridges of the downs were 
shaded by a dim haze hovering over them, toning the 
rolling curves and softening the bolder bluffs. Now 
