The birds, too, as if in the luxuriance of their joy sing their songs, fly from branch to branch and hover about, whilst the kingfishers with their brilliant plumage skim about in the hollows, where streamlets trickle down the mountain side. It is a joyous day indeed, and to the children is as full of happiness as it can contain. The grasses and the wild flowers, and the wide expanse of sunshine instead of the narrow court where their home lies, and the freedom to skip and dance to their very hearts' content fill every moment with the most supreme delight, the minutes pass only too quickly, and their only regret is that they cannot live out there for ever. In the midst of these delights the time seems to fly as though the sun were racing down the great vault of heaven. Gradually the shadows begin to lengthen, and to lie deep and thick in the valleys and underneath the projecting cliffs, whilst the glory that still rests on the summit of the mountain, and on the solitary peaks, begins to be dimmed with the coming twilight creeping through it. The time at last comes when the countless groups scattered so picturesquely amongst the newly-fashioned graves, where their loved ones rest, should begin to move homeward. The sun goes down quickly in this land, and the fast-fading light gives warning that if they would reach the city before darkness falls upon it, they must not linger too long on this delightful mountain side. The little family we have described slowly and unwillingly begin to make preparations to tear themselves away from the spot where they had spent such a pleasant day. There is but little preparation indeed needed, for the basket that had contained the good things is empty. Just one more scamper by the little ones and one last look at the grave where the old grandfather lies, who has been feasted with the delicacies that are believed will satisfy his hunger till the coming round of the next feast, and then they descend, winding their way amongst the trim-looking mounds decked with paper money, till they reach the large road that leads to the town below. About the same time, the whole face of the hills begin to be alive with moving groups. The glory has faded from the summits, and now a grey light with a touch of sadness in it is spreading over the landscape. The golden ripples on the sea have toned down and have put on the sombre air of twilight. The birds have all fled, and the great hawks that hovered far up in the sky have flown away, whilst the flash of the kingfisher has ceased with the setting of the sun. The holiday is over, but for many a day will the toilers in the narrow streets, and the women and the children in their poor untidy homes, have visions of glorious sunlight, and lights and shadows chasing each other, like school-boys, up and down the hillsides and right up to their very summits, and the fresh breezes, and the pleasant picnics beside the graves of the dead.