2 I GO TO THE COUNTRY 



thousands of little candles, and then went about 

 snuffing them all out before we awoke in the morn- 

 ing. When I asked Grandmother if this could be 

 true she smiled, but said that I was not thinking 

 in just the right way about the stars. They are 

 always there, she told me, only we cannot see them 

 until it grows dark. 



Although it is still too cold for wild flowers to 

 open, ever so many little birds are piping and 

 singing. Early in the mornings they fly to a tree 

 near my window, and there they make so many 

 chirps and give such long, sweet calls to each other 

 that I spring out of bed to run and look at them. 

 I see birds with blue backs, and many that are 

 all brown, and some are smaller than the others. 

 Numbers of them have bits of straw or grass in 

 their mouths, and this makes me feel sure they 

 are nodding and whispering about building nests. 



Just below the side of our house there runs a 

 stream. One day on Its bank I saw an odd look- 

 ing creature. In parts he was as green as grass, 

 his eyes bulged out, and his voice sounded as 

 though he had a very bad cold. I knew at once 

 that he was a bullfrog, but I did not know, until 

 Grandmother told me, his reason for croaking. 

 It was because spring had come. I often saw him 

 after this, but he usually jumped right in the 

 stream when he heard my footsteps. He was not 

 sociable. 



Another day a little farther along the stream 



