Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 19, Number 48, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 February 1898 — School Notes. [ARTICLE]

School Notes.

A Rainy Day. The rain is pouring down in torrents. As Fsit here by the window I can see that the leaves and grasses are a great deal greener than before the rain. - Now it stops for a few minutes, and down comes the hailstones beating the apple blossoms from the trees, and threshing them against the ground. - The hail has ceased but the stones are still lying on the walk and among the grasses, slowly melting. “Now, the stormis over,” I am thinking; but in a few seconds the large raindrops are again pattering on the roof. “Oh Dear!” I say almost dispairingly, “all the fun of tomorrow will be spoiled, and the “Field Daybdys” disappointed. But now the rain is slacking up again, and in a few minutes I see a beautiful rainbow looming up against a clear, blue, eastern sky. The colors are lovely. Violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange, and red all mingled together, blending into one beautiful ribbon-like bridge stretching from the Nortyi to the Soufh. As I gaze with wonder at this lovely picture there comes to my mind the myth of the rain fairies, tripping down their rainbow bridge to tell the people of God’s promise that there will be no more great floods. I fancy I can see the little fairies tripping gaily along in their beautiful rainbow dresses. Now dark angry clouds are coming from the north and beginning to cover the “fairy bridge,” as if they were jealous of its beauty. As I sit looking at it I think of the thousands who must be watching it, as I am. The dark clouds are now coming from the south and only the top of the great arch is visible. I give it a smile of farewell as it is gradually being lost to sight, a£i& the threatening clouds gathering. Till this makes me think of a performance in an Opera House The clouds, the curtain of the stage rolls up and there is the rain bow, the beautiful actress. She stays in plain sight for a while, then the ourtain is lowered, and she is lost to sight. When the curtain is again raised v\je see the stage but the beautiful actress is gone. This day reminds me of. those lines from Longfellow. “The day is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the moulding wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary.” Ruth Harris, Bth Year.