RIVER FOREST 39 



The children's singing has touched a chord in 

 our hearts. Settled in the train, while the big 

 little girl is retying her violets with the strings 

 that the big boy can always produce from some- 

 where, Mother sits beside me, making her sign of 

 perfect happiness and content. She is singing, 

 so softly that I wonder whether I really do hear 

 it, running old bits of songs together with im- 

 provised melodies, very sweetly and quite un- 

 consciously. One strain comes in again and 

 again and all at once I recognize some bars of 

 a song that I remember as far back as memory 

 goes, and when it comes again I join her with all I 

 remember of the words ; perhaps they are not right : 



" 'Twas down by the river, where violets were 



blooming, 

 And the springtime was ever fresh and green." 



