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Updated: May 16, 2025
I'd literally pound the head offen him." It was some time before he could calm himself down sufficiently to continue his literary exercise. Then he made out: "Spring's lait here, but things is looking very well. Wheat wintered good, and a big crop is expected. We had a fine singing-school during the Winter, but the protracted meeting drawed off a good many.
"The one drawback about this island is that the only spring's brackish. If you've any good bottled water I'll be glad to drink with you, but nothing stronger." "Just listen to that, fellows! Well, have your own way, Perce! We've a dozen carboys of spring water aboard, and you can drink 'em all if you want to. Try these cigarettes!" "Swore off over a month ago." "No!
And when spring's children smile upon us once again, When all the youthful splendor bright, When each melodious note of each sweet rapturous strain Awakens with it each delight: How joyous then the stream that our whole soul pervades! What life from out our glances pours! Sweet Philomela's song, resounding through the glades, Ourselves, our youthful strength restores!
"The sun is crossing the line earlier this spring than it did last." "Yes; an' I heard a crow to-day makin' that kind of a a spring noise that sort o' I d' know what kind o' goes all through a feller." "And there's Uncle Sweeney, an' that settles it; spring's comin' sure!" said Troutt, pointing at an old man, much bent, hobbling down the street. "When he gits out the frogs ain't fur behind."
It was springtime, and the red rocks and hemlocks shone and the water sparkled; she heard it lapping against the tiny islands, so glad was it to be free of the winter's grasp. Some one was dancing to the Spring's Call a small, graceful thing with a bright red cape flying on the wind, the soft wind of the In-Place. There was music, too!
I did stay and helped through the spring's work; but on Captain Sproule's second passing of Mrs. Fogg's farm, I joined him, not as a driver, but as a full hand. I kept thinking all the time of my mother, and felt that if I kept to the canal I surely should find some trace of her.
At present the sources of tenderer affection, if they existed, lay so deep below the strata of reason and common-sense that only some artesian process could pierce to the imprisoned spring's and set the "water of life" free, perhaps to bound, geyser-like, into the outer air.
Gladly they heed Who their brightness has given: Blooming on earth, look they all up to heaven; Humbly look up from their loveliest bowers: Live like the flowers! Peacefully droop they when autumn is sighing; Breathing mild fragrance around them in dying, Sleep they in hope of Spring's freshening hours: Die like the flowers!
Something of the strength and joy of the summer was in it. Drinking deeply of it the body was invigorated and the heart grew glad. In it the faith of the winter's buds and the hope of the spring's tender leaves found rich fulfillment.
I have planted my tulip bulbs, cleaned up the garden for winter and settled down to life inside my walls, with my courage in both hands, and the hope that next spring's offensive will not be a great disappointment. In the meantime I am sorry that Franz Josef did not live to see this war of his out and take his punishment.
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