THE DELIGHTS OF FAITH 25 



Every noon the sunshine marks a line farther north on the 

 leaf-covered hepaticas and the brown bulb beds, showing 

 a daring spear or two of green. In the confined garden 

 spaces our careless eyes overlook the daily progress of 

 the northward coming of sunshine. If one* would see it in 

 its mystery and beauty, let him take a flight from the 

 Gulf to the Lakes and behold how spring is marked on the 

 countryside as plainly as if the Almighty Artist dipped 

 his brush in green every morning and spread it across the 

 face of nature, scattering flowers in its trail, each day a 

 little nearer to the arctic snows. 



It does seem rather far-fetched to imagine that the tree 

 tops feel the sunshine before our duller senses are awake, 

 because they are that much nearer heaven. Yet this must 

 be true, else why are the topmost twigs on the elm, maple, 

 poplar, ash, willow, and cottonwood decorated with 

 swelling buds'? 



Look and look again at them, for it will not be long 

 before their graceful shapes will be hidden with draperies 

 of foliage. 



The drooping disposition of the elm and the elegance 

 of the birch and maple are never more evident than when 

 outlined against the twilight of a March sky. It has 

 taken long to become acquainted with the bare catalpa and 

 linden, and if you have not known the silver-leaf poplar, 

 hunt out a few in the neighborhood. Hereafter it will be 

 listed among the wayward friends of testy temper, twisted 



