[Photograph: “I WONDER WHY IT IS THE LUMBER-CAMP FOLK DO CUT OFF THEIR OVERALLS WHERE THEY DO MEET THE BOOTS”]
We did go on. We went a little way on, and we had sees of more folks of the camp by the mill by the far woods. I did make a climb upon an old tree-root to have sees of them at work. Brave Horatius made a jump up, and he came in a walk over to where me and Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus were sitting. We had seeing of them all working. I have thinks the folks that live in the lumber camps—they are kindly folk. When they come home from work at eventime, I do so like to sit on a stump and watch them go by. They come in twos and threes. They do carry their dinner-pails in their hands. And some do whistle as they come. And some do talk. And some that do see me sitting on the stump do come aside and give to me the scraps in their dinner-pails. Some have knowing of the needs I do have for scraps in the nursery and the hospital. And too, when they come home from work in the far woods, the men do bring bits of moss and nice velvet caterpillars and little rocks. Some do. And these they give to me for my nature collections. And I feel joy feels all over. Brave Horatius does bark joy barks. He does know and I do know the folks that live in the lumber camps—they are kindly folks.
Morning is glad on the hills. I hear a song like unto the song of the verdier. The sky sings in blue tones. The earth sings in green. I am so happy. The mamma is gone for a visit away. Before her going she did set me to mind the baby. I do so. In between times I print, and I do spell over and over the words in my two books Angel Father and Angel Mother did make. I sing-song the letters of the words when I go adown the road. So I do when I am in the house when the mamma is n’t at home. I do not so when she is at home, because she won’t let me.
Now Elizabeth Barrett Browning is calling me out in the pasture. I expect she wants an apple or a sugar-lump. But I cannot have goes out there to the pasture because the mamma did say for me to mind the baby and mind the house. I sing to the baby words out of the two books and the song about Iraouaddy and the bird-song of grandpère. And I have minded the house as the mamma did say for me to do. First I swept the floors in a careful way. The broom made bobby moves. That broom in my hands makes not moves like the moves it does make in the hands of the mamma. It has so much of tallness. I look looks up its handle. And afterwards I did the windows a wash up and down with a cloth that did have bon ami on it. When the windows do get dirt on them it is quite a worry on the mamma’s mind. She so likes to have all things clean. I have thinks maybe she will have some glad feels way down in her heart where one cannot see them when she is come home and has seeing of the windows made clean.
And more helps I have done. Most every week there is patches to fix on clothes that have needs of them. Patching is quite a worry on the mamma’s mind. It will be so no more. I have found a better way. While she was gone away to-day I did get all the week’s patching done. First I began on the papa’s undershirt. It needed a big patch on the elbow. The mamma had cut out the patch and pinned it there on the sleeve near unto the hole. I patched it on with china-mending glue guaranteed to stick.
Then I did do all the other patching that was in the basket. It did take most all the china-mending glue. When I did see it was most all gone, I did have remembers of that kettle that I have heard the mamma say she has wishes its lid would stick on tight. It is always a-coming off. I did fix that lid on that kettle so it will stay as tight as the mamma has wishes for it to. And then I did put the bottle that used to be full of china-mending glue back in its place on the lamp-shelf.
The baby had wake-ups and I did sing it to sleep. When sleeps was come upon the baby, the mamma did come in the door. First she went to look upon her dear baby sleeping there on the bed. She said now she was going to mend those two mush-dishes. And she got the pieces of them from the cupboard. She put them on the cook-table. And then the mamma went to get the china-mending glue guaranteed to stick. There was none in the bottle. I knew where it was gone. The mamma knew too. After she did spank for some long time, she did ask me what I did with all that glue. It took quite some time to tell her about Elsie’s baby’s bottle that she had wishes for the nipple to stick on tight, and about all the patches the china-mending glue did fix, and all the other things that it did fix.
When I got to the end she did spank me again. She said that was to be good on. Now I do think it was real kind of her to tell me what that last spanking was for. Most times I don’t know what I get spanked for. And I do like to know, because if I did have knows what I was spanked for, I’d be real careful about doing what it was again, if it was not helping folks of the fields and woods. I have to do that no matter how many spanks I do get for it. But there is so much joy in the woods and does help spank feels to hurt not so much. Now I think I will go feed the folks in the nursery, and then I will go to have vesper service in the cathedral.
Most all this afternoon-time I have been out in the field—the one that is nearest unto the woods. I have been having talks with William Shakespeare. To-day he is not working in the woods with the other horses. He is having a rest-day. He was laying down near unto one of the altars I have builded for Saint Louis. He did lay there all the afternoon. Tiredness was upon him. I gave his nose rubs, and his neck and ears, too. And I did tell him poems and sing him songs. He has likes for me to so do. After I did sing him more, sleeps did come upon him. The breaths he did breathe while he was going to sleep, they were such long breaths. And I gave unto him more pats on the nose and pats on the neck. We are chums—William Shakespeare and me. This evening I will come again to wake him. I’ll come just before suppertime, so he may go in with the other horses to eat his supper in the barn.
I did. Sleeps was yet upon him. He looked so tired lying there. I went up to pet his front leg, but it was stiff. I petted him on the nose—and his nose it was so cold. I called him, but he did not answer. I said again, “William Shakespeare, don’t you hear me calling?” but he did not answer. I have thinks he is having a long rest so he will have ready feels to pull the heavy poles on to-morrow. I now go goes to tell the man that wears gray neckties and is kind to mice about William Shakespeare having all this rest-day and how he has sleeps in the field with the pink ribbon around his neck that the fairies did bring. Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus is going goes with me. We will wait on the stump by that path he does follow when he comes home from work at eventime.
We are come back. The man that wears gray neckties and is kind to mice did go with us to see William Shakespeare having his long sleep there in the field by the altar of Saint Louis. Now I do have understanding. My dear William Shakespeare will no more have wake-ups again. Rob Ryder cannot give him whippings no more. He has gone to a long sleep—a very long sleep. He just had goes because tired feels was upon him. I have so lonesome feels for him, but I am glad that Rob Ryder cannot whip him now no more. I have covered him over with leaves. To find enough, I went to the far end of the near woods. I gathered them into my apron. Sometimes I could hardly see my way because I just could not keep from crying. I have such lonesome feels. William Shakespeare did have an understanding soul. And I have knows his soul will not have forgets of the willows by the singing creek. Often I will leave a message there on a leaf for him. I have thinks his soul is not far gone away. There are little blue fleurs a-blooming where he did lay him down to sleep.
“I WONDER WHY IT IS THE LUMBER-CAMP FOLK DO CUT OFF THEIR OVERALLS WHERE THEY DO MEET THE BOOTS” [Return to text]
To-day was wash-day come again. After I did do my parts of the washing, I did go to feed the folks in the nursery. When I was come back again, I did start to make things out of clay. I was making vases out of clay when the mamma called me to come empty the wash-water. There were two tubs full of water. That’s an awful lot of water to empty. But I carry it out in the wash-pan. And wash-pansfull of water are not so much water at a time, but they soon empty the tub.
Then the mamma did have me to weed onions. There were an awful lot of weeds trying to grow up around those onions. It took a very long time to pull all the weeds. And my back did get some tired feels, but I did get those weeds pulled out. I have thinks the onions were saying, when the wind did rustle them, “We thank you for the more room we now have got to grow in.” Folks growing in a garden do say interest things.
From the onion garden I did go to the Jardin des Tuileries. I so did go to have a little service there, for this is the borning day of Charles de Valois in 1270, and the going-away day of Saint Grégoire in 604. Felix Mendelssohn did ride in my pocket to service. He did sleep most of the time, though. I did begin to sing by the two little trees I have planted, for Saint Grégoire I and Charles de Valois. I first did sing, “Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus, Dominus Deus, Hosanna in excelsis.” While I was singing, Brave Horatius and Lars Porsena of Clusium came. They did wait while I did sing two more songs. Then I said a long prayer and a little prayer.
Afterwards we did start to go along the path. We went a little way. Then I did go aside. I went aside to the house of Elsie, to see the new baby. It was sleeping in its cradle that the husband of Elsie made out of a box. He put rockers on the box and Elsie put soft feels in it. After the box did have rockers on it and soft feels in it, they did take the baby girl from the cradle and lay her in the bed. And now everyday, except the day she does go with her mother Elsie to visit her grandma, the baby does lay in the cradle. And Elsie does rock the cradle with her foot while she sews. She sings and sings. She sings “Rock-a-by baby in the tree-top; when the wind blows, the cradle will rock.” And while she does sing, I have knowings that the little song-notes do dance about the cradle of the baby.
To-day I did stay quite a time long to look upon the face of the baby. I so do love babies. Every night I pray for the twins I want when I grow up. Some nights I pray that they may have blue eyes and golden hair. Other nights I pray for them to have brown eyes and brown hair. Sadie McKibben tells me I better stop changing my prayers about so much, or the angels may bring to me when I grow up twins with streaked hair and variegated eyes.
After I did look upon the little baby at the house of Elsie, I did have thinks to go to the house of Sadie McKibben. I so did go. As I did go along, I did have wonders if mothers can see the little song-notes that dance about their babies’ cradles when they sing lullaby songs to them. I went on across the field. When I was come to a stump by the fence corner, I stopped. I heard a criard noise. It came from near the stump. I think it was a mulot. I looked looks about. I had not seeing of it. I went on. I saw a blue jay near by the old log where I did hide nineteen acorn children on a gray day in September. He was looking looks about. I watched him make a flyaway with one of my acorns. I did count what was left. There was only a few.
I went on. When I was come to the house of Sadie McKibben, she was washing clothes. On washing days Sadie McKibben does look a bit different from her appears on other days. On wash-days along in the afternoon her hair does hang in strings about her face. Her dress does have crinkles all adown it. And her nice blue gingham apron with cross stitches on it does have rumples and soapy smells. I do know so for I do smell those soapy smells when I cuddle close to her apron on wash-days.
To-day I did stay by the side of Sadie McKibben for a little time. Then I did go to weed her onions for her. They did have looks like they did have needs for more room to grow in. And while I did weed her onions, I did see many beautiful things about. There is so much to see near about and a little way off, and there is so much to hear. And most all the time I am seeing, I am hearing, and I do have such glad feels.
To-day we did christen Solomon Grundy. He was borned a week ago yesterday on Monday. That’s why we did name him Solomon Grundy. And this being Tuesday we did christen him, for in the rhyme, the grandpa does sing to the children about Solomon Grundy being christened on Tuesday. Yesterday I made him a christening robe out of a new dish-towel that was flapping in the wind. But the aunt had no appreciation of the great need of a christening robe for Solomon Grundy. And my ears were slapped until I thought my head would pop open, but it did n’t. It just ached. Last night when I went to bed I prayed for the ache to go away. This morning when I woke up it had gone out the window. I did feel good feels from my nightcap to my toes. I thought about the christening, and early on this morning, before I yet did eat my breakfast, I went out the window that the ache went out in the night. I went from the window to the pig-pen.
I climbed into the pig-pen. I crawled on my hands and knees back under the shed where he and his sisters five and his little brother were all having breakfast from their mother. I gently did pull away by his hind-legs, from among all those dear baby pigs, he who had the most curl in his tail. I took him to the pump and pumped water on him to get every speck of dirt off. He squealed because the water was cold. So I took some of the warm water the mamma was going to wash the milk-pans in and I did give him a warm bath in the wash-pan. Then he was the pinkiest white pig you ever saw. I took the baby’s talcum-powder can and I shook it lots of times all over him. When the powder sprinkled in his eyes, he did object with a regular baby-pig squeal. And I climbed right out the bedroom window with him, because the mamma heard his squeal and she was coming fast. I did go to the barn in a hurry, for in the barn yesterday I did hide the christening robe. When I reached the top of the hay I stopped to put it on Solomon Grundy. Then we proceeded to the cathedral.
A little ways we did go, and I remembered how on the borning day of him I did ask that grand fir tree, Good King Edward I, to be his god-father. And that smaller fir tree growing by his side—the lovely Queen Eleanor of Castile—I did ask to be his godmother. We went aside from the path that leads unto the cathedral. We went another way. We went adown the lane to where dwell Good King Edward I and the lovely Queen Eleanor. And there beside them Solomon Grundy was christened. They who were present at the christening were these—Saint Louis and Charlemagne and Hugh Capet and King Alfred and Theodore Roosevelt and William Wordsworth and Homer and Cicero and Brave Horatius and Isaiah. These last two did arrive in a hurry in the midst of the service. Being dogs with understanding souls, they did realize the sacredness of the occasion and they stood silent near Charlemagne.
When we got most to the end of the service just at that very solemn moment while I was waiting for Good King Edward I and his lovely Queen Eleanor of Castile to bestow their blessing upon the white head of the babe, he gave a squeal—just the kind of a squeal all baby pigs give when they are wanting their dinner. After the naming of him, I placed around his neck a little wreath that I made in the evening yesterday for him. Then I did sing softly a hymn to the morning and came again home to the pig-pen with Solomon Grundy.
When I got to the corner of the barn, I pulled off his christening robe. I did hide it again in the hay. Then I climbed into the pig-pen. I did say the Lord’s prayer softly over the head of Solomon Grundy. After I said Amen I did poke him in among all his sisters and near unto his mother. Aphrodite gave a grunt of satisfaction, also did Solomon Grundy.
I went to the house. I climbed in the window again. I took off my nightcap and my nightgown. I did get dressed in a quick way. The little girl was romping in the bed. I helped her to get her clothes on. Then we went to the kitchen for our breakfast. The mamma was in the cellar. She did hear me come into the kitchen. She came in. With her came a kindling and a hazel switch.
After she did spank me, she told me to get the mush for the little girl’s breakfast. It was in a kettle. I spooned it out into a blue dish that came as premium in the box of mush when they brought it new from the mill town. After we did eat our mush and drink our milk, the mamma told me to clear the table and go tend chickens. I carried feed to them. I scattered it in shakes. The chickens came in a quick way. Fifteen of those chickens I did give names to, but it’s hard to tell some of them apart. Most of them have about the same number of speckles on them. I counted all the chickens that were there. There were n’t as many there as ought to be there. Some came not. These were the hens setting in the chicken-house. I went in. I lifted them off. They were fidgety and fluffy and clucky. I did carry them out to the feed.
While they were eating breakfast I counted their eggs. I made a discovery. Minerva had n’t as many eggs as the others. That meant she would n’t have as many children as the others would have. I did begin to feel sorry about that, because already I had picked out names for her fifteen children and there in her nest there were only twelve eggs. I did n’t know what to do, and then I had a think what to do. I did it. I took an egg from each nest of the three other setting hens. That fixed things.
Then I thought I would go on an exploration trip and to the nursery, and there I would give the folks a talk on geology. But then the mamma called me to scour the pots and pans. That is something I do not like to do at all. So all the time I’m scouring them I keep saying lovely verses,—that helps so much,—and by and by the pots and pans are all clean. After that all day the mamma did have more works for me to do. There was more wood to bring in. There was steps to scrub. There was cream to be shaked into butter. There was raking to do in the yard. There was carpet-strings to sew together. In-between times there was the baby to tend. And all the time all day long I did have longings to go on exploration trips. The fields were calling. The woods were calling. I heard the wind. He was making music in the forest. It was soft music. It was low. It was an echo of the songs the flowers were singing. Even if there was much works to do, hearing the voices helped me to get the works done in the way they ought to be done.
The most hurry time of all was the time near eventime, for there was going to be company to eat at the table. The mamma was in a hurry to get supper. So I helped her. She only had time to give one shake of salt to the potatoes, so I gave them three more. She did not have time to put sauce on the peas, so I flavored them with lemon extract, for the mamma is so fond of lemon flavoring in lemon pies. When she made the biscuits, she was in such a hurry she forgot to set them on a box back of the stove for an airing, as usual, before putting them in the oven. Being as she forgot to do it, while she was in the cellar to get the butter I did take the pan of biscuits out of the oven and put them under the stove so they would not miss their usual airing. Then I did go to the wood-shed for more wood. When I did put it in the wood-box the mamma reached over for me. She jerked me. She spanked me with her hand and the hair-brush and the pancake-turner. Then she shoved me out the door. She said for me to get out and stay out of her way.
I came here to the barn. I sit here printing. In-between times I stretch out on the hay. I feel tired and sore all over. I wonder for what it was the mamma gave me that spanking. I have tried so hard to help her to-day. Solomon Grundy is grunting here beside me. I went by and got him as I came along. Here on the hay I showed to him the writings in the two books my Angel Father and Angel Mother made for me. These books are such a comfort, and when I have them right along with me, Angel Father and Angel Mother do seem nearer. I did bow my head and ask my guardian angel to tell them there in heaven about Solomon Grundy being christened to-day. Then I drew him up closer to my gingham apron and I patted him often. And some of the pats I gave to him were for the lovely Peter Paul Rubens that used to be. And the more pats I gave Solomon Grundy, the closer he snuggled up beside me. To-night I shall sing to him a lullaby song as I cuddle him up all snowy white in his christening robe, before I take him out to his mother Aphrodite in the pig-pen.
I now have a bottle with a nipple on it for Solomon Grundy. But he won’t pay much attention to it. He has prefers to get his dinner from his mother Aphrodite out in the pig-pen.
After he so did have his dinner to-day, and after my morning works were done and I did have that hen started on a set—that hen had wants to set so much; I did have an awful time getting her off the nest at feeding-time. I had thinks I would set her myself, being as the mamma does n’t want to bother about it. I had thinks I would put three eggs under her to-day, and three more when comes to-morrow, and three on the next day, and three on the next. That will give her a good setting of eggs to start on.
To-day, after I so did have her started on a set with three eggs, then I went to visit Dear Love. I did cuddle up Solomon Grundy in one arm and Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus in the other arm. And so we went to visit Dear Love. Solomon Grundy wore his christening robe and he looked very sweet in it. I gave him a nice warm bath before we did start, so as to get all the pig-pen smells off. Sometimes smells do get in that pig-pen, though I do give it brush-outs every day, and I do carry old leaves and bracken ferns and straws in for beds for Aphrodite. After I did give Solomon Grundy his bath I did dust talcumatum powder over him. I was real careful not to get any in his eyes.
As we did go along I did sing to them a lullaby about Nonette and Saint Firmin, and more I did sing about Iraouaddy. We went on. Then I did tell them about the beautiful love the man of the long step that whistles most all of the time does have for the pensée girl with the far-away look in her eyes. But he is afraid to tell her about it—Sadie McKibben says he is. Sadie McKibben says he is a very shy man. Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus did go to sleeps while I was telling them about it—and Solomon Grundy did grunt a little grunt. It was a grunt for more sings. So I did sing to him,—
He had likes for that song and he grunted a grunt with a question in it. So I did sing him some more, “Indeed he did, Solomon Grundy, indeed he did. And the hairs of thy baby head—they are numbered.” Soon I shall be counting them to see how many they are.
We went on to the house of Dear Love. When we were come to there, the husband of Dear Love was digging in the ground under the front window of their little house. As he did dig, he did pick up the little rocks that were under the window and he did lay them aside. I did have asks what for was he digging up the ground under their window. And he did give explanations. He is making a flower-bed, and when it is made, Dear Love is going to plant morning-glory seeds in it. And then morning-glory vines will grow up around the window. I think that will be so nice. I did ask him how far up they would grow. And he reached up his hand to where they have thinks the morning-glory vines will grow to. I looked up. It was high up. It was lots more up than I have growed to. Now I think it would be nice to be a morning-glory vine and grow up and up. In the fields I have had seeing that the little white ones there do grow out and out. I did ask them how many leaves does the morning-glory have, that is going to grow up by their window. They both did say they were sorry but they did not know. Then I did tell them that they did not need to have cry feels about it, because when it is growing up we can learn together how many leaves it has. And he did stop digging digs, to take Solomon Grundy in his arms, and Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus had allows for Dear Love to pet his paws.
To-day was a very stormy day—more rainy than other stormy days. So we had cathedral service on the hay in the barn. Mathilde Plantagenet was below us in her stall, and she did moo moos while I did sing the choir-service. Plato and Pliny, the two bats, hung on the rafters in a dark corner. Lars Porsena of Clusium perched on the back of Brave Horatius. Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus sat at my feet and munched leaves while I said prayers. Lucian Horace Ovid Virgil was on my right shoulder, and Louis II, le Grand Condé, was on my left shoulder—part of the time; then he did crawl in my sleeve to have a sleep. Solomon Grundy was asleep by my side in his christening robe, and a sweet picture he was in it. On my other side was his little sister, Anthonya Mundy, who has not got as much curl in her tail as has Solomon Grundy.
Clementine, the Plymouth Rock hen, was late come to service. She came up from the stall of the gentle Jersey cow just when I was through singing “Hosanna in excelsis.” She came and perched on the back of Brave Horatius, back of Lars Porsena of Clusium. Then I said more prayers, and Brave Horatius did bark Amen. When he so did, Clementine tumbled off his back. She came over by me. I had thinks it would be nice if her pretty gray feathers were blue. I gave her a gentle pat and then I did begin the talk service. I did use for my text, “Blessed be the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” And all of the time the raindrops did made little joy patters on the roof. They were coming down from the sky in a quick way.
Now is the begins of the borning-time of the year. I did hurry home from school in a quick way in the afternoon of this day. Aidan of Iona come from Lindisfarne has said I may name the little lambs that now are coming. All day I did have thinks about what names to call them by. There are some names I do so like to sing the spell of. Some names I do sing over and over again when I do go on explores. I could hardly wait waits until school-getting-out time. I had remembers how Sadie McKibben says no child should grow a day old without having a name. Now some of those dear baby lambs are two and three days old since their borning-time.
When I was come to where was Aidan of Iona come from Lindisfarne, I did tell him now I have come to name all your lambs. He did have one little lamb in his arms. He did tell me as how it was it did n’t belong to anyone, and it was lonesome without a mother. He said he had thinks he would give it to me to mother. I was so happy. It was very white and very soft and its legs was slim and it had wants for a mother. It had likes for me to put my arms around it. I did name it first of all. I called it Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides. It had likes for the taste of my fingers when I did dip them into the pan of milk on the rock and then put them in its mouth. Its woolly tail did wiggle joy wiggles. And I did dance on my toes. I felt such a big amount of satisfaction feels—having a lamb to mother.
I am getting quite a big family now. After I did dip my fingers in the milk for Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides, I was going goes to see about getting a brandy bottle somewhere and a nipple, so this baby lamb could have a bottle to nurse like other babies hereabouts. When I did make a start to go, Aidan of Iona come from Lindisfarne did say, “You are not going away before you name the others, are you?” Of course I was not, and he said Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides was full up of milk for to-day, and I could bring his bottle on the morrow.
Then I did make begins to name the other lambs. They were dear and so dear. First one I did come to I did name Plutarch Demosthenes; the next one I did name Marcus Aurelius. And one came close by Aidan of Iona come from Lindisfarne, and I called it Epicurus Pythagoras. One did look a little more little than the others: I called him Anacreon Herodotus. One was more big than all the others. I named him Homer Archimedes Chilon. He gave his tail a wiggle and came close to his mother. One had a more short tail and a question look in his eyes. I called him Sophocles Diogenes. And one more I called Periander Pindar, and one was Solon Thales, and the last one of all that had not yet a name, I did call him Tibullus Theognis. He was a very fuzzy lamb and he had very long legs.
The shepherd did have likes for the names I did give to his little lambs, and the names I did give to his sheep a long time ago. And to-day, when he did tell me how he did have likes for their names, I did tell him how I have likes for them too, and how I have thinks to learn more about them when I do grow up more tall. I told him how I did sing the spell of the words to the fishes that live in the singing creek where the willows grew. After I said good-bye to all the other lambs, I did kiss Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides on the nose. I have thinks every eventime I will kiss him good-night, because maybe he does have lonesome feels too, and maybe he does have longs for kisses like the longs I do have for them every night-time.
Before I was come to the house we do live in, I did make a stop by the singing creek where the willows grow. I did print a message on a leaf. It was for the soul of William Shakespeare. I tied it on a willow branch. Then I did go by the cathedral to say thank prayers for Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides. And I did have remembers that this was the going-away day of Reine Marie Amélie in 1866 and Queen Elizabeth in 1603. And I did say a thank prayer for the goodness of them. It was near dark-time. There were little whispers in the woods and shadows with velvet fingers. I did sing, “Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus, Dominus Deus.”
Before I did come on to the house we live in, I did go aside to have sees of a cream lily that has its growing near unto the cathedral. I have watched the leafing of that lily, and I have watched its budding. A long time I have had thinks about it. To-day its blooming-time was come. There it was. I went close unto it. My soul was full of thank feels. Ever since the day when Peter Paul Rubens did go away, I have looked for his soul in tree-tops and all about. Now I have knows his soul does love to linger by this lily. I did kneel by it and say a thank prayer for the blooming of this fleur. Peter Paul Rubens’s soul does love to linger near. If ever I go from here, I will take with me this lily plant. I did have feels that my dear Peter Paul Rubens was very near this eventime.
To-day is more rain come again. I like rain. I like the music patters it does make. I like to have feels of it on my head. When it rains, I like to go barefooted. I like to feel the clean mud by the lane ooze up between my toes. When I did see the rain coming down in so fast a way, I did go to the barn. And after I did have them off, I did put my shoes and stockings in the hay. I went out to talk with Michael Angelo Sanzio Raphael about this day being the borning day of Sanzio Raphael in 1483. Then I came down by the lane. I was so glad to have my shoes and stockings off. The feel was so good. Having my shoes and stockings off made my heels feel like they were getting wings.
I went up and down the lane. Brave Horatius came a-following after. I had thinks to go see how was Minerva in the hen-house. I saw her feathers were more fluffy, and there was some more heads than hers in her nest. There was the heads of the little chickens I did pick out names for before they was yet hatched. And now I cannot tell them apart. Minerva had one baby chicken to hatch four days ago, and one baby chicken three days ago, and one more baby chicken two days ago. I heard the grandpa say it was a puzzle what was making that hen to have her chickens begin hatching so soon and then no more to hatch until to-day. Too, I have thinks it is a puzzle. But any way she is going to have fifteen chickens, because that day a little time ago I took one egg each from those hens that was set before she was, so Minerva would have the fifteen children I had already picked out names for.
I did tell Minerva again the names I did pick out for all her children before they was yet hatched. I told her Edmund Spenser and John Fletcher and Francis Beaumont and Jean Racine and Sir Walter Raleigh and Jean Molière and Sir Francis Bacon and Nicholas Boileau and Sir Philip Sidney and Jean de la Fontaine and Ben Jonson and Oliver Goldsmith and Cardinal Richelieu and Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Pius VII. And Minerva had joy feels when I did tell her, and she ate all the grain in my hand while I was telling her.
Minerva is a very nice hen and it is so nice she has so many children at once. I so do like to pick out names for children. Now I have thinks there is needs for me to hurry to get those christening robes done for her children, being as they are hatching now. On the day of their christening I will carry them in a little basket to the cathedral. There is needs to carry little chickens in a basket, for they are delicate. To-day I did show Minerva the little cap with ruffles on it that I have just made for her to wear to the cathedral at their christening. I made it like Jenny Strong’s morning-cap with ruffles on it.
After I did talk some more with Minerva, and she did chuckle some more chuckles, I did make a start to go to the cathedral to have a thank service for the borning of Sanzio Raphael in 1483. As I did go, I went aside to the pig-pen. Every time my way goes near to the way that goes to the pig-pen I do go that way. I so go to take a peep at Aphrodite. She does have such a motherly look with those dear baby-pigs about her. How nice it must be to be a mother-pig. It must be a big amount of satisfaction, having so many babies at one time.
To-day I went not to school. For a long time after breakfast the mamma did have me to cut potatoes into pieces. To-night and to-morrow night the grown-ups will plant the pieces of potatoes I cut to-day. Then by-and-by—after some long time—the pieces of potato with eyes on them will have baby potatoes under the ground. Up above the ground they will be growing leaves and flowers. One must leave an eye on every piece of potato one plants in the ground to grow. It won’t grow if you don’t. It can’t see how to grow without its eye. All day to-day I did be careful to leave an eye on every piece. And I did have meditations about what things the eyes of potatoes do see there in the ground. I have thinks they do have seeing of black velvet moles and large earthworms that do get short in a quick way. And potato flowers above the ground do see the doings of the field—and maybe they do look away and see the willows that grow by the singing creek. I do wonder if potato plants do have longings to dabble their toes. I have supposes they do just like I do. Being a potato must be interest—specially the having so many eyes. I have longings for more eyes. There is much to see in this world all about. Every day I do see beautiful things everywhere I do go.
To-day it was near eventime—the time I did have all those potatoes ready for plants. Then I did go to see Solomon Grundy in the pig-pen. I did take a sugar-lump in my apron pocket for his dear mother, Aphrodite. She had appreciations and well looks. But the looks of Solomon Grundy—they were not well looks. He did lay so still in a quiet way. I gave to him three looks. I felt a lump come in my throat. His looks they were so different. I made a run for the wood-box—the wood-box I did bring before for the getting-in of Brave Horatius to service in the pig-pen. I did step on it in getting Solomon Grundy out of the pig-pen. I did have fears if I did it in jumps, as I always do, the jumps might bother the feelings of Solomon Grundy. So I did have needs for that box. It is such a help. Every time I do get a place fixed in the pig-pen so some of the pigs can get out to go to walks and to go to the cathedral service, the grown-ups at the ranch-house do always fix the boards back again. So a box is helps to get the little pigs that are n’t too big over the top.
When I did have Solomon Grundy over the top, I did cuddle him up in my gray calico apron. I have thinks he does like the blue one best. But to-day he had not seeings it was n’t the blue one I had on. He did not give his baby squeaks. He was only stillness. I did have fears that sickness was upon him. He has lost that piece of asfiditee I did tie around his neck the other day. That was the last piece I did have. It was the little piece that was left of the big piece that the mamma did tie around my neck, and I did make divides with my friends. But Solomon Grundy—he has lost his share both times. He does lose it in a quick way. And I did have no Castoria to give him, because the mamma has gone and put away the baby’s bottle of Castoria where I cannot find it.
I did not have knowings what to do for him. But I did have thinks the man that wears gray neckties and is kind to mice would have knowings what to do for the sickness of Solomon Grundy. I made starts to the mill by the far woods. Brave Horatius was waiting at the barn. He gave his tail two wags and followed after. We went by Michael Angelo Sanzio Raphael. I did tell him the baby in my arms was sick. I said a little prayer over his head. We went along the lane. When we were come to Good King Edward I and lovely Queen Eleanor, we made stops. I did tell them of the sickness of the baby. I said a little prayer for his getting well. And I did hold him up for their blessing. Then we went on, and Brave Horatius came a-following after. When we were come to the ending of the lane, I said another little prayer. Then we went on. When we were come near unto the altar of Good King Edward I, I said another little prayer. Then we went on. Elizabeth Barrett Browning was in the woods, and she went with us. She mostly does so. And we went on.
By-and-by my arms was getting tired. Solomon Grundy, now that he is older grown, does get a little heavy when I carry him quite a long ways. When I was come to the far end of the near woods, I met the man that wears gray neckties and is kind to mice. He smiled the gentle smile he always does smile, and he took Solomon Grundy into his arms. I have thinks he did see the tiredness that was in my arms. When he sat down on a log with the dear pig, I said I had fears Solomon Grundy was sick. He said he did too. But he smoothed my curls back and he said, “Don’t you worry; he will get well.” Hearing him say that made me have better feels.
Men are such a comfort—men that wear gray neckties and are kind to mice. One I know. He looks kind looks upon the forest and he does love the grand fir trees that do grow there. I have seen him stretch out his arms to them just like I do do in the cathedral. He does have kindness for the little folks that do live about the grand trees. His ways are ways of gentleness. All my friends have likes for him, and so had Solomon Grundy. To-day he said he would take Solomon Grundy back to camp by the mill to his bunk-house. A warming he did need, so he said, and he said he would wrap him in his blanket and take care of him until morningtime was come. Then he did go the way that goes to the far woods and I did go the way that does go to the cathedral. I so went to have a little thank service for the getting well of Solomon Grundy. I do have knowings he will be well when morningtime is come. With me to the cathedral did go Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Brave Horatius.
This morning before breakfast I did go to the cathedral to say thanks for the goodness of one William Wordsworth, for this is the day of his borning in 1770. With me did go Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus. And Brave Horatius came a-following after.
After the morning’s work was done, I took my little basket most full of christening robes to the pen-place near the hen-house where is Minerva and her fourteen baby chickens. One baby chicken did n’t hatch. I had most enough christening robes ready on yesterday afternoon but one. When I did go to sing her baby to sleeps, Elsie did help me to fix that one while I did carry in some wood for her. She put a little ruffle of lace on it and a little blue bow of ribbon. It looked very nice. I did have thinks how nice they would look if all of the christening robes for the baby chickens of Minerva did have little bows of ribbon on them.
Elsie had asks what was my thoughts about, and I did tell her. And she did say she had thinks that way too. And she did make a go to her work-basket that was under the shelf where does set the bottle of vaseline that her young husband does smooth back his pumpadoor with. That vaseline jar is most empty again. When Elsie did find some little ribbons in her work-basket, she did go and raise up the trunk-lid and she did find some more little ribbons in the tray of the trunk. She tied them all into little bows. And some were pink and some were lavande and some were blue and some were rose. There was enough for every baby chicken to have one on his christening robe. And I did sew them all on at night-time on yesterday when the mamma did put me under the bed. Light enough came from the lamp on the kitchen table so I could have sees to sew them all on.
When we was come near unto the cathedral, I made a stop to put on their christening-robes. Nicholas Boileau and Jean Molière did have lavande ribbon bows on theirs. They waited waits in a corner of the basket while I did put on the others. Sir Walter Raleigh had a little pink bow on his. He would not keep still while I was getting him into his robes. He peeped three times. But Sir Francis Bacon was more fidgety than he was. It took quite a time to get his christening robe on. Ben Jonson did wear the christening robe with the ruffle of lace around it, and before I did get him put back in the basket there, he did catch his toe in that ruffle of lace. Then he peeped. I took his toe out of the ruffle, and put a christening robe with a rose ribbon bow on it on Francis Beaumont and one like it on John Fletcher, because their names was together in the book Angel Mother did write in.
After I did get little brown Oliver Goldsmith and all the rest of the children of Minerva into their christening robes, then I did take out of my pocket her little white cap with the ruffles on it like the ruffles on the morning-cap of Jenny Strong. I tied it under Minerva’s bill. She was a sweet picture in it coming down the cathedral aisle by my side. Minerva is a plump hen of gentle ways. It is not often she does talk, but she did chuckle all of the time while her baby chickens was getting christened. Brave Horatius stood by the altar and Lars Porsena of Clusium did perch upon his back. Lucian Horace Ovid Virgil did sit on a log close by. And Mathilde Plantagenet watched from the pasture-bars. Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides did walk by my side when we went goes to have asks for the blessing of Saint Louis on all Minerva’s baby chickens after they were christened. Then I did sing “Hosanna in Excelsis.” And Ben Jonson peeped and so did Francis Beaumont and Pius VII. He was wiggling so that his christening robe was most off him. I put it on again. Then I did stop to straighten up Minerva’s cap with the ruffles on it. It had had a slip-back. Then we had more prayers. Afterward we all did have goes back to the chicken-yard pen. I took off Minerva’s cap so it would be clean for cathedral service on Sundays. Then I put her and all her children back in their pen, after they did have their christening robes off.
After I did give Minerva some good-bye pats and advices about bringing up her children, then I did go goes to the house of Sadie McKibben. Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides did walk by my side and Brave Horatius came a-following after. When I was come to the house of Sadie McKibben, there was Dear Love. They was glad we was come, and they had likes for Minerva’s little cap with the ruffles around it like the morning-cap of Jenny Strong. Dear Love did give Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus some pats on his nice white paws.
And they did talk on. I did have hears of them saying of the pensée girl with the far-away look in her eyes, that is come again to visit her aunt of the gray calico dress with the black bow at its neck. I was glad she is come again. I whispered to Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus about my glad feels in his left ear. He cuddled up more close. We listened more listens. Dear Love too did say to Sadie McKibben as how it is the man of the long step that whistles most all of the time has great love for the pensée girl with the far-away look in her eyes; and how it is he is afraid to speak to her about this great love he has for her. And more Dear Love did say of how it is he does pick bunches of flowers in the woods for her and then he does lay them by an old log because he has too shy feels to take them on to her.
Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus did stick out his right front foot. I gave it a pat, and I did give him some throat rubs,—that he had likes for,—and all of the time I was having thinks. I looked looks out the side window of the house of Sadie McKibben. A white cloud was sailing in the sky. A little wind was in the woods. It was calling, “Petite Françoise, come, petite Françoise.” I did tell Dear Love and Sadie McKibben there was needs for me to hurry away. They did have understanding, and Sadie McKibben did say it was not long I was staying to-day, and she would wait waits for my return coming on the morrow. Dear Love did tell me of the pieces she did find in the top of her trunk that were waiting waits to be made into christening robes for little folks that now do have their borning-time. I was glad, for there is needs of more.
After I did say good-bye, I went goes on to the woods. I did not follow the trail that does go to the moss-box where I do leave letters on leaves for the fairies. The wind was calling. I followed after it. It was not adown the path that does lead to the nursery. It was calling over logs in the way that does lead to where is that old log with the bunches of flowers by it and under its edges. They was the flowers that the man of the long step that whistles most all of the time did gather for the pensée girl with the far-away look in her eyes. Some of the bunches of flowers was all faded. It is days a long time since he did put them there, and it is only a little time since he did put the last ones there.
I set down on the moss my basket that I did carry Minerva’s baby chickens to christening in. Then I made begins. First I put some moss in the basket, then I did put in some of the bunches of flowers. I put in the most faded ones because they had been waiting waits the longest. Then we all did go in a hurry to the house of her aunt of the gray calico dress with the black bow at its neck.
The aunt was not there, and we were glad; but the pensée girl with the far-away look in her eyes was there. She came to the door when we did tap upon its handle. I did tell her all in one breath that we was making begins to bring the flowers that the man of the long step that whistles most all of the time did gather for her on many days. We gave her explanations how it was too shy feels he had to bring them to her himself, so he did lay them by the old log. I told her as how it was we did bring the most faded ones first because they was waiting waits the longest; and she did take them all up in her arms. And I told her my dog’s name was Brave Horatius and he was a fine dog, and that Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus was a most lovely wood-rat, and I held out his white paw for her to have feels of; but he did pull it back and cuddle his nose up close to my curls. I told her how it was he was shy, too, and when he had knows of her better he would let her pat his nice white paws.
Then I did take my basket and go goes in a hurry back to get the flowers. I did carry the next most old ones to her. And she was glad for them. She was waiting waits for me on the steps of the house of her aunt of the gray calico dress with the black bow at its neck. She was ready to go back with us to the log where the flowers was; and there was joy-lights in her eyes. While we did go along, I did tell her more about the little animal and bird folks that do live in the woods and I did tell her about the great love the man of the long step that whistles most all of the time does have for her.
Quietness was upon her, and we did walk on in a slow way. A beetle went across the path and a salal bush did nod itself to us. The wind made little soft whispers, and by-and-by we was come to the log. She did kneel down by it, and she looked looks for a long time at all the bunches of flowers. And I did say a little prayer and Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus did squeak a little squeak. I made counts of the bunches of flowers, and they were thirty-and-three. I saw a chipmunk, and I followed him after to see how many stripes he did have on his back and where was his home; and on the way I saw other birds and I followed them after on tiptoes to have sees where they were having goes to. And in the bushes there was a little nest with four eggs in it with speckles on them. I did have thinks there was needs for me to pick out names for the little birds that will hatch out of those eggs. This is a very busy world to live in. There is much needs for picking out names for things.
I am very happy. I have been to the cathedral to pray again that the angels will bring a baby to Dear Love soon.
My legs do feel some tired this eventime. I’ve been most everywhere to-day. I so have been going to tell the plant-folks and the flower-folks and the birds about this day being the going-away day of one William Shakespeare in 1616. Before yet breakfast-time was come, I did go to the cathedral to say prayers of thanks for all the writings he did write. With me did go Brave Horatius and Lars Porsena of Clusium and Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus and Lucian Horace Ovid Virgil.
When we were come again to the house, they did wait waits while I did go to do the morning works. After the morning works were done, I did put pieces of bread and butter in papers in my pockets for all of us. I put some milk in the bottle for Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides. He was waiting waits for me by the pasture-bars. He is a most woolly lamb. He was glad for his breakfast and he was glad to have knows about this day. While I was telling them all there what day this is, Plutarch Demosthenes made a little jump onto a little stump. He looked a look about and made a jump-off. Sophocles Diogenes came a-following after. They both did make some more jumps. Their ways are ways of playfulness. They are dear lambs.
While I was telling them all, Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides did in some way get the nipple off his bottle, and the rest of the milk did spill itself out the bottle. I hid the bottle away by a rock. Menander Euripides Theocritus Thucydides did follow me after. He does follow me many wheres I do go to. We went all on. We saw fleurs and I did stop moments to have talks with them. I looked for other fleurs that I had longs to see. Everywhere that we did go I did look looks for teverin and yellow éclaire and pink mahonille and mauve and morgeline. When Brave Horatius had askings in his eyes for what I was looking, I did give to him explanations. He looked looks back at me from his gentle eyes. In his looks he did say, they are not hereabout. We went on. We went to forêt d’Ermenonville and forêt de Chantilly. We went adown Lounette to where it flows into Nonette—and we went on. Everywhere there were little whisperings of earth-voices. They all did say of the writes of William Shakespeare. And there were more talkings. I lay my ear close to the earth where the grasses grew close together. I did listen. The wind made ripples on the grass as it went over. There were voices from out the earth. And the things of their saying were the things of gladness of growing. And there was music. And in the music there was sky-twinkles and earth-tinkles. That was come of the joy of living. I have thinks all the grasses growing there did feel glad feels from the tips of their green arms to their toe roots in the ground.
And Brave Horatius and the rest of us did n’t get home until after supper-time. The folks was gone to the house of Elsie. I made a hunt for some supper for Brave Horatius. I found some and I put it in his special dish. Then I came again into the house to get some bread and milk. There was a jar of blackberry jam on the cook-table. It had interest looks. Just when I happened to be having all my fingers in the jar of blackberry-jam, there was rumblings of distress come from the back yard. I climbed onto the flour barrel and looked a look out the window. There near unto my chum’s special supper-dish sat the pet crow with top-heavy appears. There was reasons for his forlorn looks, for Brave Horatius had advanced to the rear of Lars Porsena of Clusium and pulled out his tail-feathers.
I have had no case like this before. I felt disturbs. I had not knowings what to do for it. I had some bandages and some mentholatum in my pocket. I took Lars Porsena of Clusium—all that was left of him with his tail-feathers gone—and I sat down on the steps. First I took some mentholatum and put it on a piece of bandage. I put the piece of bandage onto Lars Porsena of Clusium where his tail-feathers did come out. Then I did take the long white bandage in the middle, and I did wrap it about Lars Porsena of Clusium from back to front—in under his wings and twice on top, so the bandage would stay in place on the end of him where his tail-feathers came out.
Then I did make a start to the hospital. I did have wonders how long the needs would be for Lars Porsena of Clusium to be there before his tail would grow well again. I only did have going a little way when I did meet with the man that wears gray neckties and is kind to mice. He looked a look at me and he looked a look at Lars Porsena of Clusium in my arms. Then he did have askings why was it Lars Porsena was in bandages. I told him explanations all about it. He pondered on the matter. Then he picked me and Lars Porsena up and set us down on a stump. He told me there was no needs for me to have wonders about how long the need would be for Lars Porsena of Clusium to be in the hospital with bandages on him. He did talk on in his gentle way of how it is birds that do lose their tail-feathers do grow them on again. He so said and I did have understanding.
Then he did take up Lars Porsena of Clusium in his arms. And he unwrapped him from front to back and back to front. When the bandage was all off him, Lars Porsena of Clusium did give himself a stretch and his wings a little shake. And I said a little prayer for his getting well and a new tail soon. And the man that wears gray neckties and is kind to mice said Amen. Then we came home.
To-day was dyeing day. The mamma dyed. She dyed clothes—old ones. First she washed them in the tub. Then she put them in the boiler on the stove. In the boiler was beautiful blue water. I know because I climbed on the stove-hearth and peeked in. The mamma did n’t make this water blue with balls like she does the rench water for the clothes on wash-days. She made this water blue with stuff out of an envelope. I had sees of her tear its corner off, and the blue little specks came out of that envelope in a quick way. The specks so did come in a more hurry way when she did give the envelope some shakes. All the clothes the mamma did carry from the wash-tub to the boiler—all those clothes was blue when she took them out; and afterwards the blue was yet with them and they hung upon the line. I see them quiver blue quivers when the wind blows.
After she did hang them there on the line, the mamma did leave the boiler of dye-blue water on the stove. And she is gone goes to the house of her mother by the meeting of the roads. She told me to watch the house and let the fire go out. It so is gone a long time ago, and I keep watch. The blue water in the boiler has cold feels now. I stood upon the stove and I put my arm way down in it, and it was coldness. First I did only touch touches on the water with my finger. It was warmness then. That was just when the mamma did go.
She is hours and hours gone now. I have been keeping watches of the house like she did say for me to do when she went away. And in-between times I have been reading reads in the books Angel Mother and Angel Father did write in. I have been screwtineyesing the spell of words. Now I am going to have dyeing day like the mamma did have on this morning. It is so much of fun to lift things up and down in blue water. On wash-days the mamma has me to do it much. She calls it renching the clothes. When it’s blue water in a boiler, it’s dyeing them.
I have been dyeing like the mamma dyed this morning. First I did dye the mamma’s bag of blueing balls. That bag was getting pale looks. Next I did dip in the mamma’s clothes-pin bag. It was brownness before. I have not sure feels yet what color it is going to be since it has had its dye. I took all the clothes-pins out first. Then I did give them all a dip. They did bob about in a funny way. I made whirls in the dye-blue water with my fingers, so the clothes-pins would make some more bobs. It was very nice, standing there on top the cook-stove watching the bobs they made in the boiler.
Then I made a start to dye handles. First I dipped in the butcher-knife handle. Then I did give the dipper-handle a dip. I had carefuls to make it go only half-way. Then I did give the handle of the potato-masher a dip. And I gave the hammer-handle a dip in the dye-blue water.
Clementine came in a walk up step on the back porch. She looked a look in. She is such a friendly Plymouth Rock hen. She walked right into our house and came in a hop up by the dye-blue water. She so does like my blue calico apron. She hops up on my knee when I sit down to talk to the chickens in the chicken park. I had thinks being as she has likes for my blue calico apron she would have likes for blue feathers; so I did give her a gentle dip in the dye-blue water and two more. She walked right out our front door without even a thank chuckle. I never had knows of her to do so before. The dye-blue water was waiting waits.
Next I dipped the Plymouth Rock rooster in. He did object to being dyed blue. He was quite fidgety. I had decides not to coax any more folks from the chicken yard to get dyed blue feathers. I looked looks about the house we live in. I had seeing of a box of matches the mamma did leave on a chair in the bedroom. The mamma has said I must n’t touch a box of matches on the cupboard shelf. And I don’t. But she did n’t say I must n’t touch them when she leaves them on a chair. So I have took the box of matches and it has had its dip. It has a limp feel. I have put it on the back steps to get its form again. And all the matches that was in the box have had their dips in the dye-blue water. I have laid them in rows on the grass to have a dry.
And now I do have thinks how nice it will be on next time when dyeing day is come if the mamma does have seeing as how I could be helps—being as I now do have so much knowing of the ways of dyeing. I have thinks a big amount of helps I could be. Now while the things I have dyed do dry, I am going goes to the cathedral to have a long service there, for this is the borning day of Saint Louis in 1215. And many wheres there is needs for me to go to tell the plant-folk all about this being the day of his borning. And too it is the borning day of Oliver Cromwell in 1599, and the borning day of Padre Martini in 1706, and it is the going-away day of Torquato Tasso in 1595. The winds sing of these. And the great pine tree is saying a poem about this day.