A WET AUTUMN. 171 



rise and the latest to rest, so he has plenty of time 

 for weepirig — as he can weep most pitifully. When 

 the winds sigh through the trees, bringing cold and 

 damp, and blowing the leaves in all directions, so 

 that they fall sodden at your feet, get away from 

 a robin if you see one near you — and one will be 

 sure to come if you are in the woods — for he will 

 begin his dirge as though for your special benefit. 



This is so well known to all who interest them- 

 selves in such small matters, that it has become with 

 our rustics a common remark, " Hark at him weep- 

 ing ! " He is a good weather prophet ; other crea- 

 tures will let you know when things round about 

 will be -unpleasant, but they do not weep as robin- 

 redbreast does. 



Huge masses of clouds roll up from the south- 

 west, just clearing the tops of the hills. Heavy 

 mists rise from the valleys ; they creep up the hill- 

 sides in billowy masses of thick fog, until the misty 

 fog appears to meet the rain-clouds ; and then down 

 comes the rain, sheets of it so to speak. Then, too, 

 comes the wind, with a roar like that of an express 

 train, snapping the branches off trees, and blowing 

 them down in all directions. We have crouched 



