of the woods; now it stealthily dislimned in
lonely places; now it redoubled its density and dominated all things.
The soil steamed and exuded vapour as a soaked sponge, and upon its
surcharged surface splashes and streaks and sheets of water shone pallid
and ash-coloured, like blind eyes, under the eternal mists and rains.
These accumulations threw back the last glimmer of twilight and caught
the first grey signal of approaching dawn; while the land, contrariwise,
had welcomed night while yet wan sunsets struggled with the rain, and
continued to cherish darkness long after morning was in the sky. Every
rut and hollow, every scooped cup on the tors was brimming now; springs
unnumbered and unknown had burst their secret places; the water floods
tumbled and thundered until their rough laughter rang like a knell in
the ears of the husbandmen; and beneath crocketed pinnacles of half a
hundred church towers rose the mournful murmur of prayer for fair
weather.

There came an afternoon in late March when Mr. Blee returned to Monks
Barton from Chagford, stamped the mud off his boots and leggings, shook
his brown umbrella, and entered the kitchen to find his master reading
the Bible.

"'Tis all set down, Blee," exclaimed Mr. Lyddon with the triumphant
voice of a discoverer. "These latter rains be displayed in the Book,
according to my theory that everything 's theer!"

"Pity you didn't find 'em out afore they comed; then us might have
bought the tarpaulins cheap in autumn, 'stead of payin' through the nose
for 'em last month. Now 't is fancy figures for everything built to keep
out rain. Rabbit that umberella! It's springed a leak, an' the water's
got down my neck."

"Have some hot spirits, then, an' listen to this--all set out in Isaiah
forty-one--eighteen: 'I will open rivers in high places and fountains in
the midst of the valleys; I will make the wilderness a pool of water and
the dry land springs of water.' Theer! If that ban't a picter of the
present plague o' rain, what should be?"

"So 't is; an' the fountains in the midst of the valleys be the
awfullest part. Burnish it all! The high land had the worst of the
winter, but we in the low coombs be gwaine to get the worst o' the
spring--safe as water allus runs down-long."

"'T will find its awn level, which the prophet knawed."

"I wish he knawed how soon."

"'T is in the Word, I'll wager. I may come upon it yet."

"The airth be damn near drowned, an' the air's