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Updated: May 6, 2025
The cushioned seat was covered with scarlet, and so were the little chairs, which Clara and Edith knew were meant for them; the edges of the cloth were scalloped with the same bright color, and there was even a rug to match spread in front of the "divan," as Miss Harson laughingly said the cushioned seat must be called. "Haven't we 'most come to the end of the trees?" asked Clara.
"What did my little Edith see when she looked out of the window?" she asked. "Stems of trees," was the reply, "with flowers on 'em." "A very good general idea," continued Miss Harson, "but perhaps Clara can tell us something more particular about the elms?"
"I think," said his governess, with a smile, "that I have seen a boy whom I know enjoying sliced ham and tongue very much indeed." "So I do, Miss Harson," was the eager reply; "but ham and tongue, you know, don't taste like olives." "No, because they are ham and tongue. But they certainly taste salty, and that is what you object to.
"What fun it would be, if we were there, to go and get it!" exclaimed Malcolm. "But don't bees make honey from the lime trees that grow in this country, too, Miss Harson?" "Certainly they do; and the beekeepers look anxiously forward to the blossoming of the trees, because they provide such abundant supplies for the busy swarms.
"Do you remember," continued Miss Harson, "the tall, straight tree that I showed you yesterday when we were out in the woods the one with a fluted trunk? What was its name?" "I know!" said Malcolm, quite excited. "Think of the seashore! Beach! That's what I told myself to remember."
The tent in the woods, which had been proposed on the day when birch-twigs were found to be eatable, was almost forgotten or if thought of, it was as a thing that could not possibly be when, on the day in question, Miss Harson took her charges out as usual, and led them to a very pretty cleared space with a fringe of rocks and trees all around it.
The leaves are so deeply notched that they have a fringe-like appearance, and this, with its slender form and bending, swaying habit, gives it a very graceful look." Little Edith wished to know "if the wood was like silver," and Malcolm asked her how she expected it to grow if it was. But Miss Harson replied kindly, "The silver, dear, is all in the leaves, and there is not much of it there.
But on this spot, which hitherto had been quite bare, there now stood some sort of a little house different from other houses and quite pretty. "It's a tent!" exclaimed Malcolm. "Who put it there, I should like to know, on our land?" "Are there gypsies here, Miss Harson?" whispered Clara, rather fearfully.
The fruit is produced only once in two years, and in bearing-season the tree is loaded with white blossoms that drop to the ground like flakes of snow. It is said that not one in a hundred of these numerous flowers becomes an olive. Here," continued Miss Harson, pointing to a page of a book in her hand, "is a representation of an olive-branch with some of the plum-shaped fruit.
The Scotch fir, about which there are many interesting things to be learned, is more rugged-looking, and the Norway spruce, which will bear studying too, is more grand and majestic." "I know this one, Miss Harson," said little Edith as they came to a sweeping hemlock near the bay-window of the dining-room.
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