SWALLOW BROW: A Fantasy 



(To P. T.) 



THAT morning as she brushed her hair 

 little Jo felt a great joy in her heart, for the 

 sunlight was making bright the room. Her 

 real name was Mary, but they called her 

 Jo for short. She dropped her brush and 

 leaned out, while a blackbird with a yellow 

 bill flew to the top of one of the apple trees 

 in the garden and commenced to flute in 

 a rich, beautiful voice. Then a wild bee 

 crawled on the window-sill and began to 

 clean gauzy wings with his legs. Little 

 Jo watched him with the eager look that 

 some small children have when regarding 

 the lesser works of God, and thought that 

 his body was very velvety, with a sash 

 tied round the middle of it. A lark sang 

 over the cornfield behind the garden, and 



she wanted to sing and shout, for everything 

 182 



