104 FOREST FANCIES 



of Man's doing and undoing upon your white 

 bosom? For most spruce trees go forth into 

 the world as paper. Sometimes more than 

 twenty acres of the spruce sisterhood are 

 changed into the newspaper of a single day. 

 Yet after all, a newspaper lives but a day." 



* * Only one day I ' ' repeated Picea. * ' The lit- 

 tle gauzy insects flying in the summer sun- 

 light, live as long as thatl" 



"A newspaper lives but a day," he contin- 

 ued, **but a good book lives forever!" 



And her murmuring branches echoed, **A 

 good book lives forever !" 



He started at the touch of a falling cone. 



**The wind almost makes you talk. Picea, 

 I am a poet, and that is how I know you 

 have a soul. Yes, I see more than a tree be- 

 neath your brown bark and green branches: 

 I see a friend, one who serves mankind. And 

 yet, Picea, I love you for yourself alone, and 

 for your message given me this summer after- 

 noon; for in the restlessness of my life in the 

 world I had lost the faith which here I have 

 found again — the faith that the same Care 



