The leaves are everywhere. We would rake them up into big
piles, and jump into them, and 'swish' about in them. How bracing the
air is! How silvery the sun! How red your cheeks would get! And think
of the bonfires!"
"And in winter?" murmured the girl. Her eyes were shining.
"In the winter the wind would howl through the 'big tree,' and
everything would be bleak and cold out doors. We would be inside, of
course, and we would sit on the fur rug in front of the fireplace,
while the evening passed by, watching the 'geese in the chimney' flying
slowly away."
"'Suppose' some more," she begged dreamily. "I love it. It rests me."
She clasped her hands back of her head and closed her eyes.
The young man looked quietly about him.
"This is a wild and beautiful country," said he, "but it lacks
something. I think it is the soul. The little wood lots of the East
have so much of it." He paused in surprise at his own thoughts. His
only experiences in the woods East had been when out picnicking, or
berrying, and he had never noticed these things. "I don't know as I
ever thought of it there," he went on slowly, as though trying to be
honest with her, "but here it comes to me somehow or another.
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