colby_fam_b1_f21_d36_02_a

silvery rootlets . And were
there no cowslips, and blue
bells, and violets and butter-
cups and dandelions all
growing in friendly neighbor-
hood along the stream? And
didnot those winged flow-
ers; the yellow butterflies
come in swarms to visit
them? Only they would flit
away from the little hands
that longed to touch them
And in the woods! Oh what were there
treasures were there.
Not adder tongues, [heparticas?]
anemones - what crowds of them
trilliums popper tops
and all the gay and green
things that hurry to meet the
tardy Spring at her coming?

All this and more the pen
can write, comes back in
memory, again and
again when the first hesitating
"peep" comes up from the
half froze bird or bibed
whose home is under [Vie?]