the green
inundation seems about to overwhelm its boundaries, all the surface
inequalities of the land are wiped out, the small rocks and stones are
hidden, the woodchucks make their roads through it, immersed like
dolphins in the sea. What a picture of the plenty and the flowing
beneficence of our temperate zone it all presents! Nature in her kinder,
gentler moods, dreaming of the tranquil herds and the bursting barns.
Surely the vast army of the grass hath its victories, for the most part
noiseless, peace-yielding victories that gladden the eye and
tranquillize the heart.

The meadow presents a pleasing picture before it is invaded by the
haymakers, and a varied and animated one after it is thus invaded; the
mowing-machine sending a shudder ahead of it through the grass, the
hay-tedder kicking up the green locks like a giant, many-legged
grasshopper, the horserake gathering the cured hay into windrows, the
white-sleeved men with their forks pitching it into cocks, and, lastly,
the huge, soft-cheeked loads of hay, towering above the teams that draw
them, brushing against the bar-ways and the lower branches of the trees
along their course, slowly winding their way toward the barn. Then the
great mows of hay, or the shapely stacks in the fields, and the battle
is won. Milk and cream are stored up in well-cured hay, and when the
snow of winter fills the meadows as grass fills them in summer, the
tranquil cow can still rest and ruminate in contentment.

As the swallows sweep out and in near my head they give out an angry
"Sleet, sleet," as if my presence had suddenly become offensive to them.
I know what makes the change in their temper. The young are leaving
their nests, and at such eventful times the parent birds are always
nervous and anxious. When any of our birds launch a family into the
world they would rather not have spectators, and you are pretty sure to
be abused if you intrude upon the scene. The swallow can put a good deal
of sharp emphasis into that "Sleet, sleet," though she is not armed to
make any of her threats good. Who knows that all will go well with them
when they first make the plunge into space with their untried wings? A
careful parent should keep the coast clear.

They have been testing their wings for several days, clinging to the
sides of the nest and beating the wings rapidly. And now comes the
crucial moment of letting go and attempting actual flight. Several of
them have already done it, a