May heaven bless, for the sweet sake of womanhood, all men who
understand.





RELIGION

It was springtime--blossoming time--mating time. The world was a riot
of color and perfume and song.

Every twig that a few weeks before had been a bare, unsightly stick
was now a miracle of dainty beauty. From the creek, below the little
girl's house, the orchard hill appeared against the soft, blue, sky a
wonderous, cumulus, cloud of fleecy whiteness flushed with a glow of
delicate pink. The meadows and pastures were studded with stars of
gold and pearl, of ruby and amethyst and silver. The fairy hands that
had thrown over the wood a filmy veil of dainty color now dressed each
tree and bush in robes of royal fabric woven from many tints of
shimmering, shining, green.

Through the amber light above new turned furrows; amid the jewel glint
of water in the sun; in the diamond sparkle of the morning; against
the changing opal skies of evening; the bees and all their winged kin
floated and darted, flashed and danced, and whirled, from flower to
flower and field to field, from blossom to blossom and tree to tree,
bearing their pollen messages of love and life while sweet voiced
birds, in their brightest plumage, burdened the perfumed air with the
passionate melody of their mating time.