ff feeding, and chase each other around the pastures,
rain.

If cats back their bodies and wash their faces, rain.

If foxes and dogs howl and bark more than usual, if dogs grow sleepy and
dull, rain.

If moles cast up hills, rain.

If horses stretch out their nicks and sniff the air and assemble in the
corner of a field with their heads to leeward, rain.

If rats and mice be restless, rain.

If peacocks and guinea fowls scream, and turkeys gobble, and if quails
make more noise than usual, rain.

If the sea birds fly toward land, and land birds toward the sea, rain.

If the cock crows more than usual, and earlier, expect rain.

If swallows fly lower than usual, expect rain.

If bats flutter and beetles fly about, there will be fine weather.

If birds in general pick their feathers, wash themselves, and fly to
their nests, rain.

Some of the queerest miscellaneous quips received are to the effect
that:

If there are no falling stars to be seen on a bright summer evening, you
may look for fine weather.

If there be many falling stars on a clear evening in summer, there will
be thunder.

A rainbow in the morning is the shepherd's warning.

If fish bite more readily, and gambol near the surface of the ponds and
streams, then look out for rain.

If porpoises and whales sport about ships, expect a hurricane.

The best proverb of all, however, is the following couplet:

A coming storm your toes and teeth presage;
Your corns will ache, your hollow molars rage.

HOW TO MAKE A HERBARIUM.

BY CAROLINE A. CREEVEY.

A young lady who was a great lover of wild flowers once brought me a
number of pressed specimens to name. They were carefully pressed, but
were loosely laid between the pages of a magazine. Among them were
several choice plants, one or two of the rarer orchids, and a ginseng
that I had never found. In handling them the leaves and flower petals
had become broken.

"Your specimens are being ruined," I said. "Why do you not gum them each
on a separate piece of paper and lay them in a box? You have here an
excellent beginning for a herbarium."

"Oh dear, no!" she said. "I never could take the trouble to make a
herbarium. I don't care for the flowers after I know what they are. You
may have them all, and welcome."

She had doubtless seen the longing look in my eyes. I was generous,
however, and tried to persuade my friend to treasure her own flowers,
which she had been at some pai