to the chimneys, not rising, as usual, to any 

 height. 



Suddenly the storm broke. The rain fell as 

 if something had given way overhead. The 

 wind tore across the stubble of roofe and spires ; 

 and through the wind, the rain, and the rolling 

 clouds shot a weird, yellow-green sunlight. 



I had never seen a storm like it. Nor had 

 the night-hawks. They seemed to be terrified, 

 and left the sky immediately. One of them, 

 alighting on the roof across the street, and 

 creeping into the lee of a chimney, huddled 

 there in sight of me until the wind was spent 

 and a natural sunlight flooded the world of roofs 

 and domes and spires. 



Then they were all awing once more, hawk- 

 ing for supper. Along with the hawking they 

 got in a great deal of play, doing their tumbling 

 and cloud-coasting over the roofs just as they do 

 above the fields. 



Mounting by easy stages of half a dozen rapid 

 strokes, catching flies by the way, and crying 

 peent-peent, the acrobat climbs until I look a 

 mere lump on the roof ; then ceasing his whim- 

 pering peent, he turns on bowed wings and falls 



[8] 



