Good-Bye to Old Friends

FROM THE JOURNAL OF OPAL WHITELEY

TO-DAY was a long work day. When afternoon-time was come, the mamma was worried because the cream was n’t sour enough to churn, and she wanted to get it churned before supper-time. I wanted to help her. I feel so sorry for her when the worry lines come on her face. They make her look tired. While she was taking a nap by the baby on the bed, I tried to think how I could help her. By-and-by, after a time not very long, I thought of a way. I got a lemon and cut it in two with the butcher knife. Then I took the lid off the big churn. I squeezed those lemons lots of times into the cream. Then, when they would n’t leak any more juice out, I put the rinds in for a finishing touch, just like the mamma puts them into the lemonade after she has squeezed all the squeeze out. I feel better now. I know when the mamma awakes joy will be hers when she sees the cream is sour enough to churn.

But the feels the mamma did have when she had wake-ups — they was not joy feels; and the feels I now have are sore feels on the back part of me. While I did mind the baby, there was an odd sound like someone crying a great way off. The mamma says, ‘I wonder what it is. ’ I know it is the death-song of that gray fir tree they are falling this afternoon. Sleeps is come upon the baby. The mamma says for me to get out of her way. I go now goes to the woods.

I did. I went on to where its growing was. It reaches up and up — most away to the clouds. Days have been when I did sit by it to have thinks. And Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus has gone goes there with me, and Brave Horatius has waited waits while I did say prayers for that great tree. And I have told it all the things I am going to do when I grow up. I have told it about the books I am going to write about wood-folks and them of the field, and about the twins I want when I grow up and the eight other children. And always I have read to this great fir tree the letters I have wrote and put in the big log for the fairies to take to grandmere and grandpère. And night-times I have heard the little wind-song among its arms most near to the sky, and I have almost touched the big gray shadow with velvet fingers that stays close by it at night-time. And to-day there I did watch and I did hear its moans as the saw went through it. And I sat down on the ground. There was a queer feel in my throat and I could n’t stand up. All the woods seemed a still sound except the pain sound of the saw. It seemed like a little voice was calling from the cliffs. And then it was many voices. They were all little voices calling as one silver voice come together. The saw — it did n’t stop — it went on sawing. Then I did have thinks the silver voice was calling to the soul of the big fir tree. The saw did stop. There was a stillness. There was a queer sad sound. The big tree did quiver. It did sway. It crashed to the earth.

Yesterday was the day of the funeral of Aristotle. He died of eating too many mosquitoes. Now I have not three pet bats. I only have two pet bats — only Plato and Pliny. And they are like mouses with angel wings. I have likes to watch Pliny scratch his head with his hind foot, and he does use a part of his wonderful stretchy wing for a washcloth. I have lonesome feels about Aristotle being gone. I go now goes to the garden to get turnips for supper.

I did. And I give to them washes in the brook. When I did take them in to put them on the cook-table the mamma and the grandma was talking about the garden. The mamma did wonder where that third cabbage-head was gone. I did n’t. I know. It is up the brook a ways dabbling its toes in the water. I dug it up this morning and put it there. To-night I shall plant it again in the garden. It will have had a glad day dabbling its toes in the brook. That does give one such a nice feel.

I have been setting on a high stump looking looks to where is the road. Now the sun shines yellow and many flowers bloom yellow along the road. When I grow up I’m going to write a book about the folks that wear the sunshine color. I have printed some prints for its begins.

When I was coming back from the stump, I saw a spider. I stopped to watch him. He walked on his web. There was a mosquito in the web. I thought I would take that mosquito to Pliny to eat. Before I could get to it, that spider ate that mosquito up. I came a come as near unto the chêne trees. I saw the black cat coming in a creep along. He was coming more near unto the little squirrel that had no seeing of his coming. I run a more quick run. I hollered a little holler. The little squirrel did make a start to make a run. The cat did make a jump. I so did too. The cat did begin to make a quick run. I so did too. I fell over a little root. That helped some because when I fell I did catch the tail of that old black cat. I pulled it most hard. He did drop the little squirrel and made objects to my pulling his tail so. Then I did get the baby squirrel. It was most killed — but it was not killed dead. I did cuddle it up in my hands and we did go the way that does go to the hospital. I have mentholatumed it and named it Geoffroi Chaucer, and I have told it about this being the day of the going away of Innocent III in 1216. Now I go goes to the cathedral to say thanks for his borning and all the good he did do, and to pray for the angels to bring a new baby to the mamma and the papa when comes Eastertime.

One of my tooths is loose and a queer feel. This morning, after I did come back from prayers in the cathedral with Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus, — it was then I did have feels of that tooth, — it was funny feels, — its being loose. After I did eat some of my mush, I did go to the string-box and I pulled out a string. It was a white one. There was lots of white strings in that box and a pink one and a green one. I put the white string back and I pulled out the green one. It was long — very long — feets long. I did tie one part of it around my tooth with carefuls. Then I did come a walk over to where the broom stands behind the back door. I did tie the other end of the long green string to the broom-handle. And I kept hold of the middle of the string in my hand, so when the broom had falls it would n’t give a bump to my tooth when it did pull it out. I went a walk off. The tooth did n’t come out. The green string did just have a slip off the broom-handle. I carried the string in a careful way while I did go to bring in the wood and other morning works the mamma did want done when she went away to the grandma’s house. When the works was done, then I tied that string to the door-knob. I started to walk off. Then I came back aways. I decided to wait a little while. I walked off again. I got most far enough to get it jerked out. Then I thought I’d wait until after dinner. I took the string off my tooth, but I left it on the door-knob to remind me to do it after dinner. Now I go.

And I went goes to the woods with Lucian Horace Ovid Virgil and Louis II, le Grand Condé, and there I met a glad surprise. To-day the fairies did bring more color pencils to the mossbox by the old log. I had finding of them in the afternoon of to-day. There was a blue one and a green one and a yellow one and a purple one, and more there was too. I looked looks at them and I climbed up into the tree that is close by the old log. I climbed up to be more near the sky. There was songs in the tree-tops and I did make a stop way below to have listens. And I did look looks down on where is the moss-box, and the fleurs I have planted near unto it, and the ferns and the vines that do have growing over the old log.

And while I did have watches of the plant-folks that dwell about the mossbox, and while I did have listens of the songs in the tree-tops — then it was the pensée girl with the far-away look in her eyes and the man of the long step that whistles most all of the time did come walking through the woods. It is often now they so come, and he does gather ferns for her and they do have listens to what the brook sings. To-day they did n’t make a stop by the brook. They came right on and on. They so did until they was come right up to where the plant-folks dwell by the moss-box. First, I did have thinks they was coming comes to leave a letter for the fairies. But they came and they stood there — they did not go goes away. Then I had knows they did n’t even see the moss-box where I do leave the letters for the fairies. They did almost step on it. I had sees there was joy lights in her eyes, and the looks he looked at her was like the looks the young husband of Dear Love does look at her when he is come home from work at eventime.

And I did reach out my arms above them for blessings to come. They had not knows of my reaching out my arms above them. Only God had knows. They did just have sees for one another. I have sure feels they did n’t see that green caterpillar having sleeps under the green hazel leaf. He most stepped on the moss-box. I most hollered. My loose tooth was queer feels. He is a most strong man. He put his arms around the pensée girl and he most lifted her off the ground. I had fears he would drop her on the moss-box. I most did have losing of my balance on the tree-arm. And I had sees of a chipmunk on a stump. He was very saucy and had nice stripes on his back. And he did sit up and talk chipmunk talk to another chipmunk. I had hears of him and sees of him.

But the man of the long step and the pensée girl did n’t have sees of the chipmunk. He did take out a ring of gold, and he did tell her that was his mother’s wedding-ring, and the caterpillar that was asleep did have wake-ups and he crawled a little more under the hazel leaf. And the butterfly went by — it was a cream one with a nice ribbon at its wing-edge and pinkish spots. I had thinks about how nice it would be to be a butterfly and come out of a little egg, and be a caterpillar first, and have a lot of legs instead of just two legs like I have got now. And I looked more looks at the fat green caterpillar. I have more like him in the nursery. He did kiss her again. Last year I had more green caterpillars like unto this one. And they did grow and change and they was very big brown moths with velvet wings and velvet feet. And he did say, ‘I want to help you to have all the love joy in the world ’; and I put more in my prayer, a baby soon. And the fat green caterpillar fell off the leaf away down on the ground, but he fell on some moss I have put about where is the moss-box. And after his arm did touch the hazel bush he did step over two steps. I breathed a big breathe of reliefs about the mossbox not having steps on. And he kissed her again. And the green caterpillar made begins to crawl back up the hazel bush. And I felt a big amount of satisfaction feels that they was so happy. And I did whisper another prayer for the angels to bring them a baby real soon, with pink fleurs on its baby brush and a pink bow on its cradle-quilt.

And in the bushes there was a little bird and restless was upon him. The color of him was blue-gray, and there were streaks underneath, and there was a bit of yellow on his throat and so on top of his head. He did move in a quick way. I so did so I could see him more. As I did go along a-following him after, I did have sees of the tracks of the comings and goings of little woodfolks. And a way away was a soft-eyed faon. When it’s with its mother then it is a daine. There was whispers in the ferns and more songs in the treetops.

And my tooth had some more queer feels, and I had remembers about the green string tied to the doorknob. I went a walk back. It was still there when I was come to the house we live in. Brave Horatius was by the steps. He did have watches of me while I did tie the other end of the long green string around my tooth. Then I went a quick walk to the other door by stepbacks. I made a reach out for the green string. But it was n’t. It was on the floor, and my tooth was. After I did throw it away, then I did do the green string up in a roll. I am going to keep it. I went goes to the garden to get the beets the mamma did want for supper. While I did get them, I did have seeing that the green dresses of the turnip-folk are getting faded and old. I thought they might like to have new white dresses. I went again to the kitchen — I lifted the flour-sifter from the flourdrawer in the cook-table. I did go back to the garden. There I sifted flour on the turnip-folks. It came down in sprinkles like snowflakes. That gave them the proper look. When the wind came along, they nodded appreciation and some of the flour slid off to the ground. And Brave Horatius and I went to prayers in the cathedral, and so went Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus and Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides. And Mathilde Plantagenet did wait waits at the pasture-bars.

To-day was taking-egg day. Takingegg day comes mostly one time a week. It is the day the mamma does send me straight to take eggs to the folks hereabout and yonder. First she does send me to take them yonder before she does send me to take them hereabout. This she docs because she knows if she sends me first to take them to the folks that live hereabout, I do stay so long with the folks that live in the nursery and hospital that there is n’t enough time left to take eggs unto the people that live yonder.

As quick as I did cat my breakfast the mamma did set out the lard-pail on the wash-bench with a dozen eggs in it. As quick as she did so I put on my sunbonnet. It is blue and has a ruffle on it. Sometimes I wear it on my head, but most times it hangs back over my shoulders. And often I carry it over my arm with things in it — earthworms for baby birds, bandages for the folks that get hurt, and mentholatum in quinine boxes. Then, too, on exploration trips my chums ride in it. Sometimes it’s a mouse and sometimes it’s a beetle. Very often it is toads and caterpillars — only they don’t ride in the sun-bonnet at the same time, because I have learned toads like to eat caterpillars for breakfast. Sometimes Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus, that most dear velvety wood-rat, snuggles up in my sun-bonnet. He most fills it up. A sunbonnet is a very useful garment.

After I did tie my bonnet-strings under my chin in the proper way the mamma thinks they ought to be tied, I walked over to the wash-bench in hippity-hops to get that bucket of eggs. Before I took up the bucket I did look long looks at those eggs. They were so plump and so white and they did have so nice a feel. I think being a hen must be a very interesting life. How thrilling it must be to cackle after one lays an egg. And then it must be a big amount of satisfaction to have a large number of children hatch out at the same time and follow one about. I think I would like to be a hen in the day-time, but I would n’t like to roost in the chickenhouse at night.

When the mamma saw me looking long looks at those eggs, she gave to me a shoulder shake and told me to get a hurry on me and take those eggs straight to Mrs. Limberger yonder. That Mrs. Limberger is the quite plump wife of that quite big man that lives in a quite big house that, is nice but is n’t as nice as his lane. I thought I’d go straight to Mrs. Limberger’s in along that lane from out along the field, but first I did go by to get Felix Mendelssohn.

When I got to where he was, it was very near unto the altar of Good King Edward I. And being as this was the day of his crowning in 1274, I thought I would just go a little farther to see if the crown I planted in little plants there on the altar was growing in a nice way. They were. When I planted them there from the woods in spring days I did hope they would burst into bloom on this his crowning day and make a crown of flowers on his altar. But the dear little things got in a hurry and they did bloom more than a month ago. But they were saying to-day beautiful things with their leaves. I heard them as I did kneel to pray to thank God for Good King Edward I.

After I did pray quite a long time and Felix Mendelssohn got a little fidgety I started on to take the eleven eggs that were left straight to Mrs. Limberger. The other egg I could not take, because when I did kneel to pray, in some way it did roll out of the bucket, and before I was through my prayers a little gray rock by my hand just rolled off the altar and met the egg. There are a lot of little gray rocks on the altar. It is mostly made up of little rocks and some big ones. While I was making that altar, the man that works at the mill and wears gray neckties and is kind to mice came along. And the big rocks that were too big he did lift and place on the altar there. And then he did help me to plant mosses in between some of the rocks. That made me happy. Men are such a blessing to have about.

To-day I did go from the altar to the field. Along the way I stopped to talk to the trees and to watch the birds and to get berries for the nursery. I put them in the bucket with the eggs. I most lost my bonnet climbing over the fence and I did lose three more of those eggs and some of the berries for the nursery. I picked up the berries and put them back in the lard-pail, but the eggs I could not pick up. I did n’t put my sun-bonnet back on my head again, but I did give the strings a little tie in front so it would n’t come off. Very soon after I saw a little snake. He was crawling along. When I see snakes I like to stop and watch them. The dresses they wear fit them tight. They can’t fluff out their clothes like birds can, but snakes are quick people. They move in such a pretty way. Their eyes are bright and their tongues are slim.

When that snake crawled away where I could n’t see him any more, I walked over to talk to a flower. After we did have conversation for some time, I did happen to think the mamma did say to hurry, so I said good-bye, and when I did, I put my nose to the flower to smell it. It had a pleasant odor. I went on. Pretty soon I felt something on my nose. I wiped it off. It was pollen from that flower. I put it on an egg in the lard-pail. That gave that egg a flowery look. I showed it to an ear of corn, and then as I did go along I stopped to take the clods away from the roots of some of the corn-plants so the toes of their roots could have some fresh air. They quivered appreciations and some did bow down most to the ground to thank me after I was done.

I proceeded. The day was most warm. When I did cross the creek, I looked down it and up it. There were fairy demoiselles near unto the water. Their wings did shimmer in the sunlight. All along its edges the willows were dabbling their toes. Some had waded in a little bit — about enough to get their ankles wet. I looked long looks at them. I knew just how they did feel inside while they were dabbling their toes in the water. It is such a nice feel to have. I started on. I looked back.

I started on. I turned and came back a little ways — just to take a good-bye look. The willows waved their hands to me. They called to me. I hurried on with the eggs. I had got twice as far as I did get before. Then I started back to the creek. I ran all the way. When I arrived I took off my shoes. I hung my stockings on a willow branch. Then I sat on the edge of the bank and dabbled my toes. One drinks in so much inspiration while one is dabbling one’s toes in a willow creek. And one does hear the talkings of plants that dwell near unto the water.

While I was dabbling my toes my legs did have longings to go in wading, but I went not in. Something might have happened to what was left of that dozen eggs the mamma was sending straight, to Mrs. Limberger, and that was why I did not go. And I did not take Felix Mendelssohn out of the pocket he was riding in that he might dabble his toes. I took him not out for he has no longings to dabble his toes in a brook. He has prefers to dabble his toes in cheese. Though I do feel most certain one does n’t get near so much inspirations when one dabbles one’s toes in cheese as one gets when one dabbles one’s toes in waters that sing. After I did take in a goodly amount of inspirations, I drawed my toes away from the water and let the sun dry my feet, so I could put my stockings on. While I was lacing my shoes up, I looked looks around to see what was near about. A little way distant was a haystack.

When I did have my shoes most laced up to the top, I gave the strings a tuck in and started on. I saw a bourdon. He was plump in body and he did give a plump buzz. I did halt to screwtineyes him and to listen to more of those plump buzzings of his. They were cool sounds. What ones I did hear were so. He was a bourdon in a hurry and he went on in a quick way. And I went on in a slow way. The sun was so hot. It made me squint my eyes, so I put my bonnet on. That made things better. Pretty soon I met Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Then we went walking across the field. I took off my sun-bonnet and tied it on Elizabeth Barrett Browning so the sun would n’t bother her eyes. And she did go her way and I did go mine. We shall meet again at the pasture-bars when comes eventime.

When I did say good-bye to Elizabeth Barrett Browning I went the way that leads to this haystack. And here I have stopped. A haystack is such an interesting place. It ’s a nice place to explore. I think so. Mice think so. Sometimes — quite often — when I am crawling back in a haystack, I do meet a mouse, which is very nice, for mice are nice folks to know. And now to-day, when I did crawl back away under the straw, I did find something. What I did find made me feel gratitudes from my curls to my toes. It was a nest full of eggs and nobody had used an egg from it. There are — there were just fifteen eggs under the hay. They are not near so white as are those eight eggs the mamma is sending straight to Airs. Limberger, but they do have more smooth feels. Oh, such satin feels! They are so slick they come most slipping right out of my hands, but they did n’t. Four and two I have took. I have put them here in the pail. I do know Mrs. Limberger does so like to have things with satin feels about her. I have heard her expression so when I was taking eggs to her before. Now I think she will beam delights all over her plumpness when she does see the satin-feel eggs in this pail. I have placed them on top so she will see them first of all. Too, I think her eyes will kink when she finds she has got a dozen eggs and two. I wonder what she will be doing with those two extra eggs. Now I ’ll just get a hurry on me and take them straight to her. And I will hide these printings of to-day in a little box here in the haystack until comes eventime. And I will come back again for them when I come to meet Elizabeth Barrett Browning at the pasture-bars.

I’m back again. I did go straight from this haystack with the two and dozen eggs to the door of the house of Airs. Limberger. When I did get there she was talking with a woman. The woman was the beautiful Sadie McKinzie, and she wore upon her a new dress like the blossoms of Avalon growing in the marshes, and there were freckles on it like the freckles on her face, and both were beautiful. Also did Mrs. Limberger wear a new dress. It was black and had a yellow stripe in it like unto one of those yellow stripes the garter snake wears on his back.

When I did walk soft upon the porch, they were so busy talking they heard me not. I reached out the eggs. Yet they were so busy talking, they saw them not. Then I did edge over to Sadie McKinzie. I gave her sleeve a little pull. She looked down at me and smiled. She went on talking. She gave each one of my curls a smooth-out while she talked on. When she did get most done with her part of the conversation, Mrs. Limberger did happen to see the eggs I was holding out to her. She reached and took them. I was glad, but my arm was the most glad part of me because it did have a tired feeling from holding the bucket out so long.

She did n’t even notice those satin eggs on top. She did begin to talk about the many ribbons and the many ruffles the new woman wears that lives up the corduroy road. She talked on and on, and I did wait on for the lard-pail the eggs were in. And I did get fidgety, for she was n’t holding the bucket straight by the middle of its loop as a bucket ought to be held. I had a little fear she would drop that bucket. That would make a dent in it. And I knew what a spanking I would get if I took that pail home with a dent in it. I did stick my finger in my mouth to keep from speaking to her about it.

Just when I had feels how that spanking was going to feel, she did take a firm hold on the handle. But she did n’t take it in the middle. That did make the bucket to tip. She went on talking. She took a big breath and two of those satin-feel eggs did roll out. They bounced. They broke. Mrs. Limberger kinked her nose quick. She put her new black dress to it. Sadie McKinzie too did put her new dress to her nose in a quick way. And my apron so did I put to my nose. Now this I know, for there I learned an egg with a satin feel may feel proper, but inside it is not so, and if it gets a fall it is only a queer odor that one does have longings to run away from.

But Mrs. Limberger made me stay right there and carry water from the pump and scrub all the bad odors off her back porch. I think some of them odors was n’t from the two eggs with satin feels. When I confided my feelings about the matter to Felix Mendelssohn, Mrs. Limberger did tell me to go on scrubbing. She said, whatever smells might have been there, you could n’t get a whiff of, on account of the multiplications of smells that came from the two eggs.

Sadie McKinzie did help me to scrub. She did ask Mrs. Limberger not to mention the matter to the mamma. Also, she said she was going by that way to-morrow and would bring the four eggs to make up the dozen. When I started home, Sadie McKinzie did give to me a good-bye kiss on each cheek.

She knew how I do long for kisses and how the mamma has n’t time to give me any.

When I walked by Mrs. Limberger, I did look the other way. As I passed she gave me a pat and when she did, Felix Mendelssohn squeaked. When she gave me the pat, it went through my dress onto the back of the head of Felix Mendelssohn in a pocket in my underskirt. And he, being a mouse of a musical tendency, does object to being patted on the back of the head. He prefers to have pats on his throat. And he won’t let anybody give them but me.

I went on in a hurry to home. The mamma came a little ways from the door to meet me. Behind her was a switch. I saw both ends sticking out. I did give my skirt a shake so Felix Mendelssohn would get out and away. It would be awful for him to get hurt by a whipping. It might hurt his soul. After the mamma did tend to me as usual, I put some mentholatum on the places where the whip did hit most hard. Then I did go to take eggs to the folks that live hereabout. I went in a hurry. After that there was baby clothes to be washed and wood to be brought in. Then the mamma told me to go find my sun-bonnet and not to come back until I did find it. I went again to the altar of Good King Edward I to pray. Then I went to the nursery and the hospital and came again here where I print. Now I do see Elizabeth Barrett Browning at the pasture-bars. And she has got my sun-bonnet on. I knew we would meet again at eventide at the pasture-bars, for often we do, and often on hot days she wears my sun-bonnet until we meet again. It does so help to keep the sun from hurting her beautiful eyes.

Very early on the morning of to-day I did go unto the cathedral, for this is the going-away day of Saint Louis in 1270. I went there to sing a thank song for his goodness and to say prayers. I did sing the song of Saint Louis that Angel Father did teach me to sing. The little leaves on the bushes growing there under the grand trees — their little leaves did whisper little whispers. I have thinks those little whispers were thank songs for the goodness of Saint Louis. Sometimes I did hear little birdvoices in between the singing of the songs. I have thinks they were singing the same thank song I did sing — only they were singing it in their way. And when I come again home, the brook was singing the same song.

After other works was done at the house we live in on this morning, the mamma did have me to stand on a box on a chair and give to the windows some washes. Then she did have me to give the steps some scrubs. While I so did, I looked looks about. On the porch end was a little spider. He made moves in a little quick way. A guêpe came near unto him. She made no stops. She came on to him. She did carry that spider away.

Pretty soon I did have those steps all clean — nice and clean. Then the mamma did have me to help her to take the children to the house of her mamma. She and they stayed there all day. I so did not do. When they were come to the door of the ranch-house, I did go goes in the way that, goes to the pasture-bars. I so did go to tell the folks in the past ure what day it was. It was most warm when I was come to the far end of the pasture. The folks of the pasture were not out in the sun. They were in shade. Elizabeth Barrett Browning was under a big chêne tree. She did look gentle looks at me. And I did put my arm around her neck and tell her all about whose day it was.

Then I went on to tell the gentle Jersey cow. She was near some more chêne trees. I went on. She followed after. She did come with me as far as the brook. I watched her take a long drink. The day — it was so warm. Elizabeth Barrett Browning did come for a drink. I had thinks of Aphrodite in the pigpen. I looked looks about for the little bucket I do carry drinks of water in to my friends. I found it where I did hide it by the willow bush. Then I did go to take a drink of cold water to Aphrodite in the pig-pen. These warm days she does have longings for a drink of cold water. She did grunt grunts of appreciations. Then she did grunt another grunt. I have thinks that other grunt was to tell me not to have forgets to take a drink of cold water to Cassiopée. I so did. Cassiopée is a pig that does belong to the man that our lane does belong to.

After I did tell them all about it being the going-away day of Saint Louis, I did go my way to the garden. The goldenrod did nod, ’It is good that he is born.’ The tall sunflowers in the garden there did say, ‘ It is his day. It is his day.’ I went adown the carrot rows. They were all whispering soft whispers. I have thinks they were saying little thank prayers for the goodness of Saint Louis. The cabbage-plants were all smiling as I passed them by. I think they are right glad for the drink of water I gave each one of them last night.

From the garden I did go to tell other folks. I did sing the little song of Saint Louis as I did go along. The sun it was hot down on my head. I took two big maple-leaves and they did some help to keep its warmness from my head. I went on. Once at the edge of the near woods I met with my dear Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus. We went on together. I did carry him in one arm and I did hold a maple-leaf over him with the other hand. A long way we went in-about and out-about, and many little folks we did tell about this day being the going-away day of Saint Louis.

By-and-by, after it was a very long time, there was no sun. The warmness did have a different feel. There were gray clouds in the sky. Some were darkness. I did go in hurry steps. I went not from the road. I did go the way it went around the bend. More dark clouds did roll across the sky. More grayness was over all. Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus in my bonnet did make a move. I did almost drop him. I made a stop to wrap him more up in the sun-bonnet. Then I did hurry on. I climbed the lane gate. It was more quick to so do than to pull the plug out that swings the gate open. I went on. There was a great noise. Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus poked his nose out. of the sun-bonnet. He cuddled up against me. The great noise came again. I whispered to him, ‘Il tonne.’ We went on. In-between times there was fire in the sky. It made moves in a quick way. After it was the coming of the great noise. Every time I did whisper to Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus, ‘Il tonne.’ I so did, so he would not have thinks the great; noise was something else.

When we were come near the ending of the lane, there was some very big pats of rain. One fell on my nose and it did roll off onto the back of Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus. I cuddled him up more close as more loud noises did come. When we were at the ending of the lane, there was Brave Horatius waiting for us. I have thinks he had been on looks for us. His looks did look like he had. We went on together.

We was just a-going to start down the path that does lead to our house when we did hear a calling. It was a mournful sound. I had thinks some little life was much hurt and did have needs of a help. I felt for the little box of mentholatum in my pocket. It; was there, and some bandages too. The sound came again. Somewhere in the near woods a voice was calling. I followed it after. Once I did have thinks it came from a root. And then it was like it did come from a big tree. It was a pain voice, like someone calling someone to come. Then it was like a lost voice trying to find its way among the ferns. It was not a word voice. It was just a voice without words. I did have wonders what voice it was. I followed after its queer callings. Brave Horatius followed after me. He would stop and look queer puzzle looks at nowhere.

We did go on. The voice sound came again. Then it was like a voice lost from the person it did belong to. It was a clear low cry — like a ripple of gray ribbon. We was more near to it. We followed it around a big tree. There it was, come from the man on the stump, between that tree and the big tree that was beyond it. The man, he did throw back his head and the voice came out his throat and went to nowhere. It came again like little bits of queer green fire flame, and then it was low, and again like a ripple of gray ribbon. As it was so, he did turn his face about. It was the face of the husband of Sadie McKinzie; but the look — the look in his eyes was a queer wild look that looked looks at nowhere.

We are going to move to the mill town. For a whole week every morning now, after the morning works is done, the mamma does have me to help her make prepares to move — and after I do be helps to the mamma, then I do work at making prepares for moving my belongings when we go goes to the mill town.

I have made begins a week ago. I have been carrying my belongings to inside an old log a little way away from the house we do live in. Moving is a big amount of problem. But mostly now I do have my prepares done. I am going to take with me when we go goes to the mill just my necessary things — the mamma does say none but my necessary things can go. She said that was my blue calico apron and my gray calico apron and the clothes that goes under them and my two pair of stockings and the shoes I have on and my sun-bonnet and my slate and Cyr’s reader.

But I have some more necessary things that the mamma has not knows of. There is my two books that Angel Mother and Angel Father did write in and I do study in every day, and the pictures of mother and père, and the pictures of grandmère and grandpère and tante and oncle and all the others that I do love much every day; and today there was needs to give the dear picture of père a wash in the brook, because last time on yesterday, when I did kiss him, a little piece of jam from my bread and butter got on his dear face that does look so like him. And after I did come from the brook I put them all away in a careful way in the box I do keep them in, and I said a little prayer.

And I went to bring to the old log the willow whistle the shepherd did make for me when it was the borning-time of the lambs — and the two flutes he did make of seeds. And now I do have most of my necessaries in the hollow log. There by it is the lily plant the soul of Peter Paul Rubens has loves for to be near. And I have planted it in a little flower-pot Sadie McKinzie has given to me. And when we are moved moves to the mill town, I will put the lily plant under the window of the room I do have sleeps in, so that what the soul of Peter Paul Rubens does love to be near will be near unto where I be. And in the hollow log there is the old logging boot of the husband of Dear Love that he has given me to keep some of my rock collections in. And there is the bath-towel of Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus that Dear Love has made for him. And there is the color pencils that the fairies did bring to the moss-box. And there is many brown papers that Sadie McKinzie has given me to print prints on. And there is the cushion Lola did make for Lucian Horace Ovid Virgil to set on in my desk at school. And there is all the patches I do pin on my underskirt for my animal friends to ride in. And there is the track of Elizabeth Barrett Browning that I did dig up in the lane. It has so much of poetry in it.

And there is one of the gray neckties of the man that wears gray neckties and is kind to mice that he did give to me for Brave Horatius to wear. And there is the bib of Elsie’s baby that Elsie did give me for Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides to wear when he was nursing the bottle. And there is seven of the tail-feathers of Lars Porsena that he did lose when he did lose his tail. And there is four old horseshoes of William Shakespeare that the blacksmith did have allows for me to have when he was putting new shoes onto William Shakespeare. And there is the thimble of Dear Love that she has given me to carry drinks of water to the folks in the hospital. And there is the little bell of Peter Paul Rubens that he did use to wear to service in the cathedral.

And there is Elsie’s baby’s little old shoe that got worn out and she gave it to me for Nannerl Mozart to sleep in. And there is the lid of Sadie McKinzie’s coffee-pot that she did give me when it came off. She always did sing over that lid when cooking-time was come. And there is the traveling case of Minerva, that the pensée girl with the far-away look in her eyes did make for me to carry all the christening robes of Minerva’s children in, and more pieces of white cloth and little ribbons the pensée girl did put into Minerva’s traveling case for christening time come next year.

And there is the egg-shells Ben Jonson and Sir Francis Bacon and Pius VII and Nicholas Boileau and Edmund Spenser and Oliver Goldsmith and John Fletcher and Francis Beaumont and Cardinal Richelieu and Sir Walter Raleigh and the rest of Minerva’s children hatched out of. I have thinks there is needs for me to carry them egg-shells in my apron when we go moves to the mill town, so they will not have breaks. And there is the little gray shawl Sadie McKinzie has made for Nannerl Mozart. And there is the little cap that Dear Love did make for my Louis II, le Grand Condé. It has got a feather in it. He did nibble the end off the feather and he had mouse-wants to chew the tassel that she did put on the bag she did make for me to carry him in. And there is the ribbon bow off Elsie’s garter she did give me for Felix Mendelssohn to wear, I have heard t he women-folks at the farmhouse say this world would be a nice world if there were n’t any mice in it. I think it would be a most lonesome place.

And there is the big handkerchief of the man of the long step that whistles most all of the time, that he did give to me for Brave Horatius to wear around his neck. And there is Elsie’s old lace collar that Elizabeth Barrett Browning does wear to cathedral service. And there is one of the whiskers of Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus that he did lose. And there is all the portraits of my friends on poker-chips. And there is the other white poker-chips that are waiting waits for pictures to be drawn on them. And there is the blue and the red poker-chips that is the breakfast and supper plates of the folks in the nursery and the hospital. And there is Minerva’s white cap that she does wear to cathedral service with the ruffles on it like are on the morning-cap of Jenny Strong. And there is the long green string I pulled my tooth with. And there is the split jacket of Padre Martini that he did last wear before he was become a grown-up cigale. And there is the bottle of Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides — the bottle that used to be a brandy bottle.

And there is the skins of the caterpillars they did grow too big for when they was growing into papillons and phalènes. And there is the two tailfeathers of Agamemnon Menelaus Dindon. And there is Solomon Grundy’s christening robe. And there is the little fleur watering-pot the fairies did bring that I do give my friends shower-baths

with. And there is the cocoon that Charlotte Brontë, the big velvet brown phalène, did hatch out of, and there is more cocoons that other phalènes did hatch out of. And there is the ribbon bow Elsie has given me off her other garter for the pet squirrel Geoffroi Chaucer, that the cat did hurt but is well again. And there is a whole new box of mentholatum that Sadie McKinzie has given me for the little folks I find with hurts in the mill town. And there is the four vaseline bottles that got empty after the young husband of Elsie did use all the vaseline in them to keep his pumpadoor smooth. I have uses for those vaseline bottles to keep food in for the folks of the nursery. These things I have now in the log. Others of my necessary things I will bring this eventime, and on to-morrow and the next day and the day after that.

Some of us go to the mill town, but not all of us so go. Dear Solomon Grundy is sold to a man that does live at one of the edges of the mill town. Aphrodite is going to stay stays here, and so is Mathildc. Plantagenet and Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Anthonya Mundy and the gentle Jersey cow and Savonarola and Agamemnon Menelaus Dindon; and Plato and Pliny are going to live on in the barn. Brave Horatius is going goes with Aldan of Iona come from Lindisfarne, and too Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides is going with the shepherd to the blue hills.

Minerva is going to town with us and so is Sir Francis Bacon and Ben Jonson and Pius VII and Nicholas Boileau and Sir Walter Raleigh and all the rest of her dear children and Clementine and Napoleon and Andromeda. And byand-by Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus is coming comes to the mill town, and so is Felix Mendelssohn and Louis II, le Grand Condé, and Nannerl Mozart and some of her children, and Lucian Horace Ovid Virgil and Geoffroi Chaucer and the caterpillar folks in the nursery. All is when I do have homes fixed for them about the house we are going to live in in the mill town. Until then Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus is going to stay with Dear Love and her husband; and too Dear Love does say Lucian Horace Ovid Virgil can live under her doorstep until I do have a place fixed for him under the doorstep of the house we are going to live in in the mill town. And Sadie McKinzie is going to take care of Geoffroi Chaucer and bring him in to me at the house we are going to live in in the mill town. And the man that wears gray neckties and is kind to mice is going to take care of all my mouse friends in his bunk-house and he is going goes to feed the folks in the nursery and the hospital. And often it is I am going to come comes back again here to cathedral service and talks with them I know and to leave letters for the fairies in the moss-box.

I have thinks about the mill town. Maybe in the fields over on the other side of the mill town — maybe there there will lie étourneau and ortolan and draine and durbec and loriot and verdier and rossignol and pinson and pivoire. When I am come to the mill town I will go explores to see, and I will build altars for Saint Louis. Now I go to see Dear Love.

When I was come near unto her little house I had seeing of Dear Love. She was setting on the steps by her door drying her hair in the sun. It did wave little ripples of light when the wind did go in a gentle way by. She let me have feels of its touches. And she did give me a kiss on each cheek and one on the nose when she lifted me onto her lap. And then Dear Love did tell me a secret. It’s hers and her husband’s secret that the angels did let them know ahead — they are going to have a baby soon. I felt a big amount of satisfaction. It is about time that prayer was answered. Some prayers you pray a little while and answers come. Some prayers you pray more times and answers don’t come. I have not knows of why. But prayers for babies get answered soon — most always they do. The time is so long I have been praying prayers for Dear Love to have a baby soon. And now the angels have told her it’s going to come in about five months. I have thinks that is quite a time long to wait waits. And Dear Love has showed me the clothes the angels did tell her to make ahead for its coming. And there is two little shirts and bands and very long underskirts with feather stitches in them, and there’s a little cream kimono with a blue ribbon bow on it. I looked looks at it a long time. And Dear Love said she was going to make one just like it. for Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus. I am glad. And there was more little clothes; and while we was looking at them the husband of Dear Love did come in the door and he did look adoors at Dear Love. It’s just our secret — just Dear Love’s and her husband’s and mine. Nobody knows it but just us three and Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus and Brave Horatius and Edward I and lovely Queen Eleanor of Castile and Michael Angelo Sanzio Raphael and Aphrodite and Lucian Horace Ovid Virgil and Felix Mendelssohn and Plato and Pliny and Minerva and her chickens and Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides and Louis II, le Grand Condé, and the willows that grow by Nonette.

Now Brave Horatius and me and Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus are going to prayers in the cathedral. The great pine tree is saying a poem and there is a song in the tree-tops.

(The End)