THE STORY OF THE YEAR. 401

woods were hidden in a mist of waters, and still camedarkness and
light, and still silence and roaring followed one another ; the grass
and corn lay beaten down and swamped, looking as though they
could never raise themselves again. But soon the rain fell only
in gentle dips, the sun peered through the clouds, the water-
drops glittered like pearls on the leaves, the birds sang, the fishes
leaped up from the surface of the lake, the gnats danced in the
sunshine, and yonder on the rock, in the salt heaving sea-water,
sat Summer himself—a strong man with sturdy limbs and long
dripping hair—there he sat, strengthened by the cool bath, in the
warm sunshine. All nature round about was renewed, everything
stood luxuriant, strong, and beautiful; it was summer, warm,
lovely summer.

And pleasant and sweet was the fragrance that streamed up-
wards from the rich clover-field, where the bees swarmed round
the old ruined place of meeting; the bramble wound itself around
use altar stone, which, washed by the rain, glittered in the sun-
shine ; and thither flew the Queen-bee with her swarm, and pre-
pared wax and honey. Only Summer saw it, he and his strong
wife ; forthem. the altar table stood covered with the offerings of
nature,

And the evening sky shone like gold, shone as no church dome
can shine; and in the interval between the evening and the
morning red there was moonlight: it was summer. -

And days went by, and weeks went by. The bright scythes of
the :eapers gleamed in the corn-fields; the branches of the apple
trees bent down, heavy with red-and-yellow fruit. The hops smelt
sweetly, hanging in large clusters ; and under the hazel bushes
where hung great bunches of nuts, rested a man and woman—
Summer and his quiet consort.

“ What wealth !” exclaimed the woman: “allaround a blessing
is diffused, everywhere the scene looks homelike and good ; and
yet—I know not why—I long for peace and rest—I know not how
to express it. Now they are already ploughing again in the field.
The people want to gain more and more. See, the storks flock
together, and follow at a little distance behind the plough—the
bird of Egypt that carried us through the air. Do you remember
how we came as children to this land of the North? We brought
with us slowers, and pleasant sunshine, and green to the woods ;
the wincl has treated them roughly, and they have become dark
and brown like the trees of the South, but they do not, like them,
bear fruit.”

“Do you wish to see the golden fruit?” said Summer : “ ther
rejoice.”

ad le lifted his arm, and the leaves of the forest put on hues
of red and gold, and beauteous tints spread over all the wood-
land. The rose bush gleamed with scarlet hips; the elder
branches hung down with.great heavy bunches of dark berries j

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