Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1912-05-07


full of discouraged looking
dandelions.
Here's a beautiful bouquet
for you, mamma" said the Little
Boy, and, mamsy, I want to ask
you somefn'-somefn' secret"
We'll" said the Little Boys
Mother. pinching her right hand
with her left very hard to keep
from rumpling the Little Boys hair
back out of his eyes in the way he
hates-awell, what is the secret
question:"
And the Little Boy leaned SO
close to his Mother that she could
feel kind of soft warmth in the
air Mamma" said the Little
Boy, speaking very softly. mann
ma, is it tomorrow YETI"
mol mean yes. Little Boy"
said the Mother, hesitating an in
slant and then answering quite de-
cidedly. yes, Little Boy, it is to-
morrow-right now"
oh" cried the Little Boy. be-
ginning to dance like some kind of
a strange, merry little toy wound
up, "oh, then we can go into the
real country and pick real flowers
with smelling to them, and watch
the real grass grow and-and-'
Yes indeed" said the Little
Boys Mother, 1--WE can do all these
things and we will. too" And she
took the Little Boy and the Little
Boys sister and put on their rough,
heavy shoes and their good dark
coats, and she tied up a box of
sandwiches and some cookies with
raisins in them, and away they all
went to the real country to see the
real flowers with real smelling to
them, and to witch the real grass .
grow, and to heat the real birds up
in the trees telling each other all
the real news about Yesterday and
today and tomorrow and all the
time there ever is or ever will be.
And it was cool in the shade and
warm in the sunshine. and it was
thirsty work walking, and there
was a real wen by the real road
side, and a real woman at the door
of the real farm house gave them
real drink and took them out to the
barnyard and let them see a real
calf before it had begun to worry
about being a COW and acting re-
spectacle.
And there was a rowdyish little
stream. running nowhere in partic-
ular. and, Of course, there We're fish
in it-somewhere-even if it was
only an inch deep; and all the real
willows were out; you could smell
them a long way off with your eyes
shut
Once a hen flew clucking across
the road, and after her there came
peeping, peeping, one, two, three,
four, six little yellow things, all
peeping for their lives and holding
their foolish stubs of wings up and
running like mad. and asking the
old hen. so the Little Boy thought,
whether it was tomorrow yet. And
the old hen was very cross and kept
saving, mo. no, of course not"
And the Little Boy stood on
high stone and watched the little
yellow chickens and pitied them
because they were in today yet,
when he was in the glorious tomor-
row And he named them, one by
one, Daddy Rogers, and Miss Ruby,
and James Metcalf, and Rebecca-
and the Others wouldn't wait to be
named. but ran away, peeping loud
er than ever
Poor things, sighed the Little
Boy, poor little things Now they
viii never know what to say when
they want to call each other and
find out if it is tomorrow yet"
And the sun shone and.the Spring
Beauties nodded from the edge of
the woods, and the shooting stars
cleaned in the meadows and down
by the rowdy little stream that
came from nowhere, the violets
stopped under their green parasols
and tried to see themselves in the
clear brown water and they pre-
tending to be so shy and modest,
too.