The sun was very bright,but I doubted if the day would long be fine,and looked into the milky sapphire I wore,to see whether the star in it was clear.It was even less defined than I had expected.
I rose from the breakfast-table,and went to the window to glance at the stone again.There had been heavy rain in the night,and on the lawn was a thrush breaking his way into the shell of a snail.
As I was turning my ring about to catch the response of the star to the sun,I spied a keen black eye gazing at me out of the milky misty blue.The sight startled me so that I dropped the ring,and when I picked it up the eye was gone from it.The same moment the sun was obscured;a dark vapour covered him,and in a minute or two the whole sky was clouded.The air had grown sultry,and a gust of wind came suddenly.A moment more and there was a flash of lightning,with a single sharp thunder-clap.Then the rain fell in torrents.
I had opened the window,and stood there looking out at the precipitous rain,when I descried a raven walking toward me over the grass,with solemn gait,and utter disregard of the falling deluge.Suspecting who he was,I congratulated myself that I was safe on the ground-floor.At the same time I had a conviction that,if I were not careful,something would happen.
He came nearer and nearer,made a profound bow,and with a sudden winged leap stood on the window-sill.Then he stepped over the ledge,jumped down into the room,and walked to the door.I thought he was on his way to the library,and followed him,determined,if he went up the stair,not to take one step after him.He turned,however,neither toward the library nor the stair,but to a little door that gave upon a grass-patch in a nook between two portions of the rambling old house.I made haste to open it for him.He stepped out into its creeper-covered porch,and stood looking at the rain,which fell like a huge thin cataract;I stood in the door behind him.The second flash came,and was followed by a lengthened roll of more distant thunder.He turned his head over his shoulder and looked at me,as much as to say,"You hear that?"then swivelled it round again,and anew contemplated the weather,apparently with approbation.So human were his pose and carriage and the way he kept turning his head,that I remarked almost involuntarily,"Fine weather for the worms,Mr.Raven!""Yes,"he answered,in the rather croaky voice I had learned to know,"the ground will be nice for them to get out and in!--It must be a grand time on the steppes of Uranus!"he added,with a glance upward;"I believe it is raining there too;it was,all the last week!""Why should that make it a grand time?"I asked.
"Because the animals there are all burrowers,"he answered,"--like the field-mice and the moles here.--They will be,for ages to come.""How do you know that,if I may be so bold?"I rejoined.
"As any one would who had been there to see,"he replied."It is a great sight,until you get used to it,when the earth gives a heave,and out comes a beast.You might think it a hairy elephant or a deinotherium--but none of the animals are the same as we have ever had here.I was almost frightened myself the first time I saw the dry-bog-serpent come wallowing out--such a head and mane!and SUCHeyes!--but the shower is nearly over.It will stop directly after the next thunder-clap.There it is!"A flash came with the words,and in about half a minute the thunder.
Then the rain ceased.
"Now we should be going!"said the raven,and stepped to the front of the porch.
"Going where?"I asked.
"Going where we have to go,"he answered."You did not surely think you had got home?I told you there was no going out and in at pleasure until you were at home!""I do not want to go,"I said.
"That does not make any difference--at least not much,"he answered.
"This is the way!"
"I am quite content where I am."
"You think so,but you are not.Come along."He hopped from the porch onto the grass,and turned,waiting.
"I will not leave the house to-day,"I said with obstinacy.
"You will come into the garden!"rejoined the raven.
"I give in so far,"I replied,and stepped from the porch.
The sun broke through the clouds,and the raindrops flashed and sparkled on the grass.The raven was walking over it.
"You will wet your feet!"I cried.
"And mire my beak,"he answered,immediately plunging it deep in the sod,and drawing out a great wriggling red worm.He threw back his head,and tossed it in the air.It spread great wings,gorgeous in red and black,and soared aloft.
"Tut!tut!"I exclaimed;"you mistake,Mr.Raven:worms are not the larv?of butterflies!""Never mind,"he croaked;"it will do for once!I'm not a reading man at present,but sexton at the--at a certain graveyard--cemetery,more properly--in--at--no matter where!""I see!you can't keep your spade still:and when you have nothing to bury,you must dig something up!Only you should mind what it is before you make it fly!No creature should be allowed to forget what and where it came from!""Why?"said the raven.
"Because it will grow proud,and cease to recognise its superiors."No man knows it when he is making an idiot of himself.
"Where DO the worms come from?"said the raven,as if suddenly grown curious to know.
"Why,from the earth,as you have just seen!"I answered.
"Yes,last!"he replied."But they can't have come from it first--for that will never go back to it!"he added,looking up.
I looked up also,but could see nothing save a little dark cloud,the edges of which were red,as if with the light of the sunset.
"Surely the sun is not going down!"I exclaimed,struck with amazement.
"Oh,no!"returned the raven."That red belongs to the worm.""You see what comes of making creatures forget their origin!"Icried with some warmth.
"It is well,surely,if it be to rise higher and grow larger!"he returned."But indeed I only teach them to find it!""Would you have the air full of worms?"
