A COMPOSITE FAMILY 253 



of warm days while Flower Hat and I roamed 

 about the Tree -bridge region. The shed was one 

 of Time o' Year's scattered bits of property and 

 only separated by a tangled strip of garden flowers 

 from his cabin, behind which he was now sitting on 

 an Elm stump used for a chopping-block, his fine 

 head held between his hands, his deep eyes open, 

 and gazing straight before him at nothing, unless 

 it was the yellow ribbon of dwarf Brook Sunflowers 

 that started from below the overflow tub by his 

 well, and looped and twisted to join a broader band 

 that outlined a meadow pool. 



Nell had already turned into her familiar quar- 

 ters under the shed, and I hastened across the lot 

 below to come within distant range of the old man 

 without surprising him into betraying any trouble 

 that he might not wish to reveal. I paused a mo- 

 ment to look up at a gigantic stalk of Canada 

 Goldenrod that held its plumes high above my 

 head, and at once became conscious that he was 

 coming toward me, his wide straw hat pulled well 

 over his eyes, one hand twisting nervously in his 

 wonderful beard that glistened like spun silver or 

 the newly released silk of Milkweeds. 



"There wa'n't no other way out of it. I 

 allowed when the breeze came up long about sun- 



