i8 LUTHER BURBANK 



kept him busy, yet he had time to build windmills, water 

 wheels, and to repair broken sleds and skates. With the 

 song of the robin and thrush to awaken him in the morn- 

 ing and a chorus of green-coated frogs to lull him to slum- 

 ber at night, life was rich in the wealth of Nature's gifts 

 to a country boy. 



Through the meadow ran a rippling stream. There 

 his bark canoes were floated, his water wheels placed, 

 as he waded in its clear waters among the nodding heads 

 of golden cowslips; and on its banks he gathered the cran- 

 berries reddening in the sunshine, questioning why those 

 hiding in mossy places were of paler hue. 



Sometimes with older brothers he strolled over Pine 

 Hill for a swim in the smoothly flowing Nashua River, 

 coming home with pockets rilled with "shagbark" nuts; 

 nor did he forget to gather from the rushes an armful of 

 cat- tails to place with wild roses in the large living room. 

 Then there was boating on the quiet wood-encircled 

 Cumberry Pond. While the others fished, the boy gathered 

 the buds of the beautiful white pond lilies resting on its 

 surface, and which, opening the next morning, filled the 

 rooms with their fragrance. 



But always dearest to him were the autumn days, when 

 trees and vines were robed in russet, scarlet, and gold; 

 and when the flowers began, one by one, to close their 

 eyes, making ready to lie down to sleep beneath a cover- 

 let of snow. 



