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At the close of a beautiful summer's day I thought that I would go ahead and view the works of nature. I started with the anticipation of enjoying myself very much. But I was overtaken by a furious storm. I unclear my way towards home but I had a good share of the the storm. The loud roaring of the thunder and the vivid flash of the lightning, the howling of the winds caused my courage to fail me and I thought I should never see my loved home again. After a while the storm abated and I sat me down upon a huge wet log and I looked upon the broken fragments of the trees that had been the inhabitants of that dear old forest for many years scattered upon the wet ground. I began to pursue my course homewards and on my return I found that the storm had proved quite destructive around my own native cot. The strong old maple tree that had stood many and many a furious storm was now crushed to the ground. The place where I had so often sat and read was now no more But let me speak of the beauties as well as the horris? of that storm. On the following morning I looked out and the hills looked so green and beautiful. I thought I would be willing to stand stand the same horrors that I had done the evening before if I could see such a lovely sight again. The horrors of a storm to my mind are nothing compared to its beauties.