there was a great deal of talk about whether he should be put in a
madhouse or not; some called Harkness a philanthropist, and others
called him a meddling fellow. Soon, very soon, there was less talk:
that which is everybody's business is nobody's business. Harkness
continued to befriend him in the matter of food and lodging; the old man
grew to be at home in the Harmon house and its neglected surroundings.
When the will to do so seized him, he went into the village and lifted
up his voice, and preached the exactions of the love of the Son of God,
proclaiming that He would come again, and that quickly.

The winter days had grown very long; the sun had passed the vernal
equinox, and yet it looked upon unbroken snowfields. Then, about the
middle of April, the snow passed quickly away in blazing sunshine, in a
thousand rivulets, in a flooded river. The roads were heavy with mud,
but the earth was left green, the bud of spring having been nurtured
beneath the kindly shelter of the snow.




CHAPTER XII.


Now came the most lovely moment of the year. All the trees were putting
forth new leaves, leaves so young, so tiny as yet, that one could see
the fowls of the air when they lodged in the branches--no small
privilege, for now the orange oriole, and the bluebird, and the
primrose-coloured finch, were here, there, and everywhere; and more
rarely the scarlet tanager. A few days before and they had not come; a
few days more and larger leaves would hide them perfectly. Just at this