Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1874-06-24
t'nr Y nung Ladies.
After Arbutus.

~ ROSE rEnnr COOKE.
Who docs not reyie a New England
spring. Its coming a long evaporation.
Winter delays departure till flesh and spirit
ache with longing for grass and soft airs.
One storm after another smites the barren
world, and spreads fresh winding sheets over
its fields and hills. No one storm dare we
call the last, for on its flying track follows
close the presage Of another--snow on snow,
frost after frost, mud and food, the accumu.
lated fury and scourge Of winter before its
unwilling aud forced abdicaiion.
And it is time Of death. Now the fee
BILE, the aged, the poor-those who have
struggled with all their Pickering strength
through storm and cold in hope Of all.re.
storing spriug-can do no more; they de-
spair without knowing it life fades out Of
their hearts, and they turn over lecbly and
die having given up hope and heart. Then
the poorly this time fuel is gone aud
charity is weary the fire is put out that
cooks one scanty meal, and they shiver and
starye till next days pot is boiled-per
haps it never is. This is the time when
men beg who never begged before, when
the feeble mother longs for sunshine that
her noisy children may be turned out Of
doors and her ailing baby get breath Of
air that is not keener than a dagger and
colder than grave, All this il true; but,
after all, spring does come-the sweet new
year and with il comes charm no quick raj
ture Of the South that flashes into sudden
bloom like the kiudling Of fire ever knows
Some dav the south wind blows softly and
a mist covers the face Of the ground, as
once in Paradise it lay tenderly over the
new creation then the SHOWS weep them
selves away the little song-sparrows trill
their lovc.songs with courageous MARBLE
from the bare trees snowbirds make a
last appearance valOrous robins shout a
rain song, and hop about barns with a
quaint air Of possession At night the first
authentic announcement Of spring is made
from every swamp by the halfsweet, half
sad call of unnumbered frogs, who pipe one
note on many keys, making a monotonous
variety, full Of memories sadder than sweet
to the ear that bears them--has heard them
too often to forget
Now VIC begin to talk about arbutus one
friend tells another where it was best last
year; and whoever appears with the first
spray in button.hole or braid is surrounded
and questioned like a miner who EXHIBITS a
nugget Then the tired man takes day
from his business, whether or no" aud
the weary mother leaves baking and sewing
and babies behind her, in sort Of gay des-
peration, and goes off on the universal
errand after arbutus" No matter about
mud How full and bright the brooks are
how they dance and sparkle in their stony
beds, and overleap tiny precipices in bub-
BILE of white foam, shouting with fairy
laughter to the squirrels that dart from
their holes to feel the sunshine again la the
swamps the oad-leaved verdant skunk !.
cabbage, inodorous but splendid in its free
fresh growth, and its half.sister, the green
neratrine, with huted leaves and upright
stalk, are the sole signs Of returning vege-
tation but in the woods squirrecups uu.
fold from their gray fur hoods sweetest lit
tie faces Of blue, pink, purple, and white
and their last years leaves lie veined and
dark on the ground beneath them, not ready
to die till their young successors take theil
places and darken to maturity below these
in damper ground, the spring beauty shoots
up slender, succulent stalks, heavy with
faint pinkveiued bells and narrow, inefh
cieut-ooking leaves and between the two
grows the odd and delicate plant known a,
the " Dutchman's breeches." with bright
green, dceply-cut leaves, and slight, pink
ish stems, Haunting on their tops rows o
tiny white brooches, hung out as if to dry
in the yearly washing of the fairy people o
this New World. BY the roadside, on well
summed and watered turf-banks, thousand
off, innocents, or eye-brights,' sometime
called" Quaker ladies'" lift their baby face
to the sky, fearless and simple-so fragile
so small, so helpless-looking, one almos
thinks they bloom 80 early because there il
so little for them to do in blooming and the
must needs die so soon. But the bright, BRAY
squirrel.cup, and the coarse, golden cowsip
in the swamp pasture, are more ephemera
than they for these wee blossoms endur
far into the heats of summer, and now an
. then to autumns nearest verge. There, toe
A., is one small disc Of sunshine, bold and roun
as brazen shield, the first dandelion pre-
3 cursor Of thousands that will dot the mead
ows soon and blaze back the suns brigh
face and here, from a damp edge Of tn
forest, the dog-tooth violet, better knowna
the adder's tongue, losses its golden turban
spotted with maroon, springing lightly frol
= its dark mottled leaves, and quivering
. every sharp wind and above them an earl
! maple shows its scant and leafless bloom
= blood-red, on the gray boughs, or an elm
u tree waves its langud branches, thick wit
swelling buds. A newer life, also, darker
! those soft and stately pines that murmu
T. above US and distill from their deep verdul
u breath Of balsamic fragrance. These pin
= woods mean arbutus for by pine and whit
Il birch, on soil so barren that low briars an
, mullelns alone contest their possession, tn
u meek blossom creeps and blooms. 1t
J hard to find. The newcomer stands in
sudden disappointment at the gray an
tlowerless hillside before nina norther
T. hillside, too, bleak with all wiutry wind
and bearing yet ruins ofthe last snow-drif
here and there; about his feet lie gray-greel
rough leaves, burnt or SCARED perhaps wit
frost, and creeping in among dead, curle
grass, gray itself as the fleece of some dea
!, wild creature. But we who have hunte
: this shy blossom for years know better no
to coax it into sight. Friend, have pi
/. thence Stoop and pull gently at that roug
a leaf there is a CLEAN of pure color unde
r that curling gray grass soit y, now it come
p aud sends before it breath Of exquisit
/ odor, the very essence Of all wood-perfum'
! the pine.resin, the birch-spiciness, III
4 sweetness of dead leaves in autumn, III
/ deliciousness Of the silver-fr's new shoot
the unfolding hickory buds, the wild rose
breath Of balm, and the vanishing sign {
e the white violet-all these have their shaI
0 herein, and all are fused into one indescribl
/ bic incense, known alone to those cluster
n of roseate pink blossoms that emerge fro
T the dead leaves aud matted grass, so IA
4 and pure, SO tender in tint, so softly moulde
Q so dainty of texture, like the delicate shell
e Of wax dropped hot into water untouche
by any coarse mortal manipulation. Hel
are buds pink as the very glow Of mornin
/ above their sleep, with the calm look
b baby lips before day wakens them to eve
!. baby SORROWS here clusters Of snow-whit
I there bunch tinted like delicate shell