sprouts shooting up in spots from which the snow had melted; and on
making this discovery, we always danced into the house and shouted out:
"Spring has come!" It gladdened our very hearts to find the first little
violet that dared to show its head above the ground; and then we ran to
the peach-trees to look at the delicate pink buds that shot forth so
curiously without any leaves. There was a warm sweet breath abroad upon
the air that tossed our hair about, and fanned our flushed cheeks, and
we knew that it was spring, sweet spring! that had come again to us. Oh,
how delightful it was when, escaped from all watchful eyes, I could
throw aside the troublesome sun-bonnet, that so obstructed my sight, and
dig and delve at pleasure! Never in all my life have I been so happy as
in these delightful spring days, when I roved about the paths with a
heart full of happiness, and a sensation of thankfulness for the
blessings I enjoyed.

Two circumstances contributed materially to immortalize this particular
spring in my recollections: I then completed my tenth year, which I
thought left me on the very threshold of womanhood, and we had two pet
squirrels, who inhabited the locust trees in front of the house, with a
tin cage to retire to at night--one of whom we called "blackey," and the
other "browney," from their different colors.

"Blackey" was extremely mischievous, and rarely could be caught; but
"browney" seemed a perfect paragon of gentleness and goodness--and I
would seat myself on the steps, holding him for hours, and listening to
the monotonous hum of the locusts, which always filled my heart with a
sense of quiet happiness. Did you never sit watching the glorious
sunbeams, as they fell on the soft, fresh grass, and with this low,
soothing hum in your ears, feel that the earth was very beautiful? I
have; but then I was a dreamer--an unmistakable, enthusiastic dreamer,