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 SUCH
eyes!--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