And
then, as time passed on, the trees unfolded all their bright green leaves
--the buds and forest flowers opened; and many a bright bell our little
squirrels looked down upon, from their leafy home, that the eye of man had
never seen.
It was pleasant for our little squirrels, just after sunset, in the still
summer evenings, when the small silver stars came stealing out one by one
in the blue sky, to play among the cool dewy leaves of the grand old oaks
and maples; to watch the fitful flash of the fireflies, as they glanced
here and there, flitting through the deep gloom of the forest boughs, now
lost to sight, as they closed their wings, now flashing out like tiny
tapers, borne aloft by unseen hands in the darkness. Where that little
creek runs singing over its mossy bed, and the cedar-boughs bend down so
thick and close that only a gleam of the bright water can be seen, even in
the sunlight, there the fireflies crowd, and the damp foliage is all alive
with their dazzling light.
In this sweet, still hour, just at the dewfall, the rush of whirring wings
may he heard from the islands, or in the forest, bordering on the water's
edge; and out of hollow logs and hoary trunks of trees come forth the
speckled night-hawks, cutting the air with their thin, sharp, wide wings
and open beak, ready to intrap the unwary moth or musquito that float so
joyously upon the evening air.
Pages:
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76