STACKPOLE MRS. GRASSHOPPER GOES HOUSE HUNTING 295 



No Mrs. Gray Grasshopper, the Cricket Brothers dressed in 

 their shiny mourning-cos tirnies, are playing some one else's 

 funeral anthem. 



Play a little softer, will you, boys? The ant family may feel 

 the vibration of your music and reach the dead reed before a 

 certain little heart stops beating. Already they are smacking 

 their lips in anticipation of juicy red legs for their midnight 

 banquet. 



Trailing Arbutus 



Agnes At water 



Thought of the summer in winter's heart lying. 

 Tenderly nestled when snowflakes are flying. 

 Flushed with the Hght of a cold northern sky, 

 Delicate, fragrant, lovely, and shy. 

 Wax-like and rose-white, wee stars of perfume, 

 Sweet heart of springtime breaking in bloom! 



Low in the dead leaves and pine-needles hiding, 



The rust of last year on its green leaves abiding, 



Close to the earth its slender vine clinging. 



In each fibre feeling the vague impulse springing, ^ 



Filled with earth's sweetness, thrilled with earth's power, 



Spring heart of ecstacy burst into flower! 



