CHAPTER III 



THE REAL SPRING AND LITTLE TRUDY, 



In the sunshine now it is really warm. The 

 gardener has given up saying that there may yet 

 come a frost to catch the impatient blossoms, and 

 Grandmother no longer urges me to wear my win- 

 ter coat. Tommy seems excited by these real 

 spring days, and has hardly time to talk with 

 Peter. He is busy keeping watch on the crow's 

 nest, and many little flowers which, he says, are as 

 timid as fairies, and wait for no one. 



It was the day Francis went away that we had 

 our first talk about Early Saxifrage. Tommy had 

 picked a small piece of it to put in a bouquet for 

 Francis with Hepaticas, Dutchman's Breeches, 

 Anemones, and Dog's-tooth Violet. But Francis, 

 who was pleased with the other flowers, asked him 

 to take the Saxifrage out because he said it wasn't 

 pretty. 



Now both Tommy and I think it a dear, fleecy 

 little flower, only as Francis was going home. 

 Tommy did as he asked without a word. It 

 was not until after we had seen him off at the sta- 

 tion that Tommy told me he was sure Francis 

 would be an artist when he grew up, as he mostly 

 cared for things that pleased his eyes; and that 

 although he didn't like the Saxifrage, he could 



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