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Updated: May 2, 2025
So the child grew, and the Merry Leaves from the Laughing Tree rustled where they hung from the hood of her cradle, and, being fairy leaves, when the cradle was given up they festooned themselves on the cribside, and later on blew themselves up to the ceilings at Sunnybook Farm and dangled there, making fun for everybody.
I was so homesick for Sunnybook and John that I could hardly learn my weekly hymns, especially the sad, long one beginning: "My thoughts on awful subjects roll, Damnation and the dead." It was brother John for whom I was chiefly homesick on Sunday afternoons, because at Sunnybrook Farm father was dead and mother was always busy, and Hannah never liked to talk.
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