I was just about to git up and go home, bein' tired of that
foolishness, when I heard a little bird waking up away off in the woods
and call sleepy-like to his mate, and I looked up and see that Rubin was
beginning to take some interest in his business, and I sit down again.
It was the peep of day. The light came faint from the east, the breezes
blowed gentle and fresh, some more birds waked up in the orchard, then
some more in the trees near the house, and all begun singin' together.
People began to stir, and the gal opened the shutters. Just then the
first beam of the sun fell upon the blossoms a leetle more, and it techt
the roses on the bushes, and the next thing it was broad day; the sun
fairly blazed, the birds sung like they'd split their little throats;
all the leaves was movin', and flashin' diamonds of dew, and the whole
wide world was bright and happy as a king. Seemed to me like there was a
good breakfast in every house in the land, and not a sick child or woman
anywhere. It was a fine mornin'.

And I says to my neighbor, "That's music, that is."

But he glared at me like he'd like to cut my throat.

Presently the wind turned; it begun to thicken up, and a kind of gray
mist came over things; I got low-spirited directly. Then a silver rain
began to fall. I could see the drops touch the ground; some flashed up
like long pearl ear-rings, and the rest rolled away like round rubies.
It was pretty, but melancholy. Then the pearls gathered themselves into
long strands and necklaces, and then they melted into thin silver
streams, running between golden gravels, and then the streams joined
each other at the bottom of the hill, and made a brook that flowed
silent, except that you could kinder see the music, especially when the
bushes on the banks moved as the music went along down the valley. I