4 AT THE NORTH OF BE ARC AMP WATER . 
the rain and wind leaped upon the trees, filling 
the air with deafening sounds, and twisting the 
branches until it seemed as though the whole 
structure of the woods was about to collapse in 
one vast ruin. Then through the tormented 
tree-tops the floods fell. They were white like 
snow, and seemed to be a fallen part of a white 
sky which showed now and then as the forest 
swayed back and forth in the wind’s arms. 
Wet as the swamp had been before, its colors 
became more vivid under this deluge. Every 
leaf grew greener, and each lichen gave out new 
tints as it drank in rain. The trunks of the 
trees assumed more distinctive shades; that of 
the ash became brown, of the yellow birch 
almost like saffron, and of the canoe birch glis¬ 
tening white. The rain pelting into my eyes 
bade me look less at the sky and more at the 
beauties at my feet. Beauties there surely were 
at my feet, both of color and form. There were 
no flowers, but the leaves were enough to satisfy 
both eye and mind,—large leaves and small, 
coarse and delicate, strong and feeble, stiff and 
drooping. Some were long and slender, others 
deeply cleft, some round, or smoothly oval, 
others shaped like arrow-heads. Some received 
the rain submissively and bowed more and more 
before it, others responded buoyantly as each 
drop struck them and was tossed off. In some 
