The Rescue of an Old Place 



calculations have gone agley ; and if Paul 

 plants, and Apollos declines to water, 

 what then ? 



To return to our expedition. There 

 was an easterly tang in the air, a smell of 

 rain that promised well for the morrow, 

 though in the shelter of the trees all was 

 warmth and sunshine, and bursting buds. 

 Upon the rocks the Lady's - slipper was 

 waving its rosy blossoms, tempting us to 

 add a few roots of it to our shady garden, 

 where it has thriven well. The Beeches 

 and Birches were full of crumpled leaflets, 

 Anemones were blooming by the wayside, 

 the oak-tops were reddened with the flush 

 of early leaf-buds, the forest was astir. 

 Along the fences ran the busy chipmunks, 

 saucily chattering, with their bushy tails 

 trailing behind them. The wood robins 

 were singing in the thickets, and the 

 thrushes challenging us from wayside 

 bushes. In northern Maine one hears al- 

 ways in summer the tender song of the 

 Peabody bird in such places, but here it 

 occurs but seldom, and I missed it from 

 the woodland sounds, of which the air was 

 full. The Witch-hazel stared at us with 

 158 



