How that
mule's eye twinkled as from time to time he cast a backward glance upon
the Small Boy wrestling with a dull hatchet and a sturdy young
scrub-oak under the pelting rain, amid lightning-flash and
thunder-peal, needs a more graphic pen than mine to describe. A
better-drenched biped than climbed into the wagon at the close of this
episode, or a more thoroughly-satisfied quadruped than jogged along
before him, it would be difficult to find.
As suddenly as they had come up the clouds rolled away, and sunlight
flamed out from the west--so suddenly that it caught the rain halfway
and filled the air with tremulous rainbow hues. Then burst out afresh
the songs of birds, sweet scents thrilled up from flower and shrub, the
very earth was fragrant, and fresh, resinous odors exhaled from every
tree. The sun sank down in gold and purple glory and night swept over
the dark woods. Myriad fireflies flitted round, insects chirped in
every hollow, the whippoorwill called from the distant thicket, the
night-hawk circled in the open glade. A cheerful sound of cow-bells
broke the noisy stillness, the forest opened upon a row of dark
buildings and darker orange trees, and barking of dogs and kindly
voices told us that rest was at hand.
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