The May-flies, in thousands, are come forth to their little day of life, and are flying up, and dropping again in their own peculiar way. The stone-fly is found head downwards on the bole of that tree. The midges are celebrating their airy and labyrinthine dances with an amazing adroitness. These little creatures pass through a metamorphosis, as they settle on you in your summer walks by river sides, that must strike the careful observer with admiration. You may sometimes see a column of them by the margin of the river, like a column of smoke; and when you come near, numbers of them will settle upon your clothes--small, white, and fleecy creatures. Observe them carefully, and you will see them shake their wings, as in a little convulsive agony, press them to the sides of their body, and fairly creep out of their skins. These skins, fine white films, drawn like a glove from their bodies, and from their very legs, which are but like fine hairs themselves, they leave behind, and dart off into the air as to a new life, and with an accession of new beauty. Dragon-flies of all sizes and colours are hovering, and skimming, and settling amongst the water-plants, or on some natural twig, evidently full of enjoyment. The great azure-bodied one, with its filmy wings, darts past with reckless speed; and slender ones--blue and purple, and dun, and black, with long jointed bodies, made as of shining silk by the fingers of some fair lady, and animated for a week or two of summer sunshine by some frolic spell, now pursue each other, and now rest as in sleep. The whitethroat goes flying with a curious cowering motion over the top of the tall grass from one bush to another, where it hops unseen, and repeats its favourite “chaw-chaw.” The willow-warbler, the mocking-bird of England, maintains its incessant imitations of the swallow, the sparrow, the chaffinch, and the whitethroat, flitting and chattering in the bushes that overhang the stream. The landrail repeats its continuous “crake-crake” from the meadow grass, and the water itself ripples on, clear and musical, and chequered with small shadows from many a leaf and bent and moving bough. We lift up our heads--and in the west what a ruby sun--what a gorgeous assemblage of sunset clouds! Readers and friends, are these not the characters of June fields and June brook-sides? Do they not recal to your memory many a pleasant walk, many a pleasant place, and many pleasant friends? They must: for there is nothing gives us so vivid a sense of the careering of time as the passing of spring and summer. [Illustration] [Illustration] PART III. PICTURESQUE AND MORAL FEATURES OF THE COUNTRY. CHAPTER I. GIPSIES. All hail! ye British Buccaneers! Ye English Ishmaelites, all hail! A jovial and marauding band, Against the goodliest of the land Ye go, and ye prevail.