picking up stray notes dropped by the Invisible Choir, and with
unequalled purity and tenderness, sending them ringing down to
his brooding mate, whose home and happiness would be despoiled by
the reaping of that spot of green. He delayed burning the
brush-heap from the spring pruning, back of the orchard, until
fall, when he found it housed a pair of fine thrushes; for the
song of the thrush delighted him almost as much as that of the
lark. He left a hollow limb on the old red pearmain apple-tree,
because when he came to cut it there was a pair of bluebirds
twittering around, frantic with anxiety.

His pockets were bulgy with wheat and crumbs, and his heart was
big with happiness. It was the golden springtime of his later
life. The sky never had seemed so blue, or the earth so
beautiful. The Cardinal had opened the fountains of his soul;
life took on a new colour and joy; while every work of God
manifested a fresh and heretofore unappreciated loveliness. His
very muscles seemed to relax, and new strength arose to meet the
demands of his uplifted spirit. He had not finished his day's
work with such ease and pleasure in years; and he could see the
influence of his rejuvenation in Maria. She was flitting around
her house with broken snatches of song, even sweeter to Abram's
ears than the notes of the birds; and in recent days he had
noticed that she dressed particularly for her afternoon's sewing,
putting on her Sunday lace collar and a white apron. He
immediately went to town and bought her a finer collar than she
ever had owned in her life.

Then he hunted a sign painter, and came home bearing a number of
pine boards on which gleamed in big, shiny black letters: