lves and their songs at the same time and gave to the day a quality that no other songster is ever able to impart. It was a morning to inspire happiness.
“What a heavenly country this is,” said Ethel; “I’d like to live here until the leaves color.” “I dare say it would be nice here in the winter tim
inerva, and she said to James: “Do folks leave here in winter?” “No, indeed,” said James. “Winter’s the best time of the year up here. I jus’ l
ike the cold. Coastin’ from here to the village, a mile and a half. Everybody does it. And skating! Umm. You ought to stay up here in winter.” “Oh, la
?visit my old mother in the winter, an’ I’ll teach you to skate and you’ll never want to go back.” “Imagine Minerva here in winter,” whispered Ethel to me. “Poor thing. She would die of the horrors. But, do you think she is more contented?” “I certainly do. She is going to have new clothes—Is that a sheep?” It turned
out to be a rock. “There are no sheep around here,” said Ethel. “Bert said so.” “I wonder if Minerva would be frightened at sheep?” “She might be. The most peaceful animals aren’t always the most peaceful looking. I think a cow is much more diabolical than a lion as far as looks go. A lion is kind of benign and I dare say th