eavens! the apples!

TOBY-DOG, (_invisible_)

I'll let them cut my ears into strips rather than leave this
hiding-place!

KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (_invisible_)

I can't help hearing, and it's as if I saw everything that's going on.
She hastens to close the windows. Someone is running on the stairs. Aie!
Another awful flame--and everything is falling in! Silence now.... I
wonder are they all dead? I'll look through the fringes of the chair,
though it's risking my life to do so. Ah, hailstones making holes in
the leaves! Here comes the rain, in silvery drops, wide apart, and so
heavy that the gravel wrinkles up when they fall.

SHE, (_heart-broken_)

I can hear the peaches falling, and the green nuts too!

(_All three are silent. Rain; quivering streaks of lightning; hissing in
the pine-trees. The wind howls. A lull_.)

TOBY-DOG

I'm not quite so afraid as I was. The sound of the rain relaxes my tired
nerves. I seem to feel its streaming warmth on my ears and the back of
my neck. Now the hubbub is further off! I can hear myself breathe. The
light coming under this bookcase, is brighter than it was. What is She
doing? I daren't go out yet. If only the Cat would move! (_He sticks
out his head, like a wary turtle. A flash of lightning makes him draw it
back again_.) Ha! It's beginning all over again. Rain by the bucketfuls
against the window-panes. Something in the chimney is trying to imitate
that far-away rumbling. Everything's falling to pieces ... and _She_
gave me a rap on the nose!

KIKI-THE-DEMURE

Drop by drop, a little brownish river is filtering under the loose
window-sash. It's stretching out and out on the floor, winding its way
over to me. I'm so hot and thirsty, I'd like to lap up some of it. My
joints ache and my ears are tired of standing up like weather-cocks at
every crash. My jaws are still clenched with nervous fear. The seat of
this chair is too low; it annoys me, rubbing against the fur on my back.
However, it's some comfort to be able to _think_ of such things--thanks
to the peace that's descended on the house. The rain is falling quietly
and the wind has gone down, but the memory of the din still hums in my
ears. What can He be doing? The storm distresses him too. Why didn't He
come forward to calm the raging elements? There She is, opening the
porch door. Isn't it too soon?... No, for the hens are cackling like old
maids as they hop over the puddles. We're going to have fine weather.
Oh, the