282 NATURAL HISTORY OF THE FARM 
little, anda flood of light flows in on the freshened atmosphere. 
The rain ceases and the verdure of the earth appears, slaked 
and washed clean. 
We do not, naturally, seek to keep out of the rain. As 
children, we sought to be out in it. The warm summer rain 
was as refreshing as sunshine. It is due to our clothes 
that we avoid getting wet. Our modern attire is set 
up with starch and glue, and the rain wilts it. For the sake 
of such artificial toggery, we sacrifice some pleasures that are 
part of our natural birthright. 
Other creatures enjoy the rain. At its approach, many 
of them enter upon unusual activities. Insects swarm. 
The rabbits by the roadside become more familiar. They 
approach nearer to our doors, and sit longer amid the clover 
when we come near them. Snakes run more in the open; 
indeed, a snake in the open roadway is a venerable “sign” 
of rain. Chickens oil their feathers, alternately pressing the 
oil-gland and preening with their beaks; and if they get well 
waterproofed before the storm breaks, and if the downpour 
be not too heavy, they will then stay out in it, and enjoy it. 
Many birds sing more persistently—notably the cuckoo, 
which doubtless, from this habit got the name “‘rain-crow.” 
Frogs croak vociferously, as if in pleasant anticipation. 
Flowers bend their heads. 
When it rains, the moisture-loving things come forth. 
Slime-molds creep out over the logs. Mushrooms spring 
up. Slugs and millepedes and pill-bugs wander forth into 
the open, and earthworms, as well, at night. And every- 
where running water is performing its great functions of 
burden-bearing, cutting, filling, leveling, and slowly changing 
the topography of the land, and distributing all manner of 
seeds over its surface. There is plenty to see and plenty to 
hear when it rains. 
