with the odor of mint and the perfume of the willows and flags and
warm moist earth. Gorgeous winged butterflies zigzagged here and there
from flower to flower--now near for a little--then far away. Honeybees
droned their hymns of industry the while they searched for sweet
treasures. And now and then a tiny green frog would come out of a
shadowy nook in the bank of the stream to see what the little girl was
doing; or a bird would drop from out the blue sky for a drink or a
bath in the pebbly shallows. And not far away--easily within
call--mother sat on the shady porch, with her sewing, where she could
watch over her little girl.

Dear, innocent, sheltered, protected, Yesterdays--when mother told her
child all that was needful for her to know, and told her in a most
tender, beautiful, way. Dear, blessed, Yesterdays--when love did not
leave vice to teach the sacred truths of love--days that were days of
blissful Ignorance--not vicious Ignorance but ignorance of the
vicious. There was a wealth of Ignorance in those Yesterdays that is
of more worth to womanhood, by far, than much knowledge of the world.

And often the boy would come, too, and, together, they would wade hand
in hand in the clear flood, mingling their shouts and laughter with
the music of their playmate brook, while the minnows darted to and fro
about their bare legs; or, they would build brave dams and bridges and
harbors with the bright stones; or, best of all, fashion and launch
the ships of childhood.

Oh, childish ships of the Yesterdays! What precious cargoes they
carried! What priceless treasures they bore to the far away port of
dreams!