.

The evening after the entomological ramble passed away very quietly, for
the boys were too tired to care for anything but the hearty tea they
made, which partook more of the nature of a supper; and after this there
was such a disposition for sleep exhibited by the whole of the party,
not excluding the Squire himself, that Mrs Inglis very soon began to
talk about bed; and toe had to talk very loudly, too, for Harry had
curled himself up in the great easy chair, dormouse fashion; Fred was
sitting at the table with a book, whose leaves he was keeping from
flying open by resting his head upon them; while Philip was seated on a
small ottoman by his father's knees, and resting against them, fast
asleep, as was also the Squire himself.

Mrs Inglis looked up from the fancy work upon which she was engaged,
and could not help smiling at the appearance the rest of the inmates of
the room presented. However, judging that at all events the junior
portion would be far better in bed, she proceeded to arouse them, which
was no easy task; and at last got them out of the room, Harry being by
far the most sleepy, and yawning fearfully as he was led off to bed.

The next morning Fred was the first awake, and, after rousing his
cousins, he went to the window to raise the blind, when he found it to
be a regular soaking wet morning, one with a heavy, leaden-hued sky, and
the rain coming down "plish-plash" from the leaves and branches, and
upon the edges of the verandah the drops running together like glassy
beads until too heavy to hang, when they dropped upon the stones below,
just in the same places where they had fallen for years, and wore the
stone away into hollows. Little streams were slowly running down by the
sides of the gravel-walks, and every bit of path looked muddy and dirty.
As for the birds, they did not seem to mind the rain a bit, but were
hurrying about the grounds picking up the worms, slugs, and snails that
the cooling rain had fetched out of their hiding-places, so that they
were having a regular feast; while one thrush, who had evidently been an
early bird, and had the first pick at the worms, was up, high up, in the
cedar at the corner of the field, whistling away as though the happiest
of birds. The roses were getting washed clear of the blight that had
begun to cover them; and everything seemed to be drinking in the soft
cooling drops that fell so gently and bathed the face of nature, for
during Fred's visit t