CHAPTER XXXIII

Spring.Mistawisblackandsullenforaweekortwo,thenflaminginsapphireandturquoise,lilacandroseagain,laughingthroughtheoriel,caressingitsamethystislands,ripplingunderwindssoftassilk.Frogs,littlegreenwizardsofswampandpool,singingeverywhereinthelongtwilightsandlongintothenightsislandsfairy-likeinagreenhazetheevanescentbeautyofwildyoungtreesinearlyleaffrost-likelovelinessofthenewfoliageofjuniper-treesthewoodsputtingonafashionofspringflowers,dainty,spiritualthingsakintothesoulofthewildernessredmistonthemapleswillowsdeckedoutwithglossysilverpussiesalltheforgottenvioletsofMistawisbloomingagainlureofAprilmoons. “ThinkhowmanythousandsofspringshavebeenhereonMistawis—andallofthembeautiful,”saidValancy.“Oh,Barney,lookatthatwildplum!Iwill—ImustquotefromJohnFoster.There’sapassageinoneofhisbooks—I’vere-readitahundredtimes.Hemusthavewrittenitbeforeatreejustlikethat: “‘Beholdtheyoungwildplum-treewhichhasadornedherselfafterimmemorialfashioninawedding-veiloffinelace.Thefingersofwoodpixiesmusthavewovenit,fornothinglikeitevercamefromanearthlyloom.Ivowthetreeisconsciousofitsloveliness.Itisbridlingbeforeourveryeyes—asifitsbeautywerenotthemostephemeralthinginthewoods,asitistherarestandmostexceeding,fortodayitisandtomorrowitisnot.Everysouthwindpurringthroughtheboughswillwinnowawayashowerofslenderpetals.Butwhatmatter?Todayitisqueenofthewildplacesanditisalwaystodayinthewoods.’” “I’msureyoufeelmuchbettersinceyou’vegotthatoutofyoursystem,”saidBarneyheartlessly. “Here’sapatchofdandelions,”saidValancy,unsubdued.“Dandelionsshouldn’tgrowinthewoods,though.Theyhaven’tanysenseofthefitnessofthingsatall.Theyaretoocheerfulandself-satisfied.They