“Ah, how charming to breathe fresh air, and to be in the light! Why, I feel all alive, all astir! This warm sunshine thrills me through and through. ’Twas very dismal down there; but how light and cheerful it is up above! And here are all our old neighbors; come to spend the summer, I hope. Dear Violet, I’m so glad to see you! When did you come up?”
“Only just this moment, Pansy. When the birds began to call, I felt that we ought to start immediately. It is really very pleasant to be awakened by music; pleasant, too, to meet old friends once more. And, oh, how good it is to be alive! I have just your feelings, and cannot keep myself quiet. What is the charm that works upon us so?”
“I believe,” said Pansy, “that the great shining sun up there has something to do with it, in a way we don’t understand.—Ah! Neighbor Snowdrop, how do you do? No doubt, being so early a riser, you were one of the very first upon the ground.”
“Why, yes,” said Snowdrop, “I do make a practice of coming early. It seems as if the birds should have some one to welcome them back: it must be hard work singing to bare ground, after what they’ve been used to at the South. And, besides, my dreams were so unpleasant, that I was really glad to shake them off. Probably I slept too near the surface; for the terrible uproar above ground disturbed me, even in my sleep. I dreamed that a mighty giant was striding about, shaking the world to pieces; that he stamped upon the flowers; and was so cruel to the trees as to make them groan dreadfully. Once I half awaked, and shuddered, and said to myself, ‘Oh! what can be going on overhead?’ then fell asleep again, and dreamed that the whole beautiful earth was covered with something white and cold, and that a voice said, ‘Go up through the snow!’ to which I answered, ‘Oh! I’m afraid to go alone.’
“When I awoke, the voice seemed still saying, ‘Go up!’ Then I remembered the birds, and came, but came trembling; for the cold white snow was truly here, and I feared that dreadful giant might be real also. My good friends, did you have no bad dreams? and were you not disturbed by the tumult?”
“Not at all,” said Pansy. “When our mother told us the good Summer who loved us had gone, and that there was a dreadful old Winter coming, who would growl and pinch and bite, and that we’d better keep our heads under cover, then I went to sleep, and slept soundly. I haven’t heard any thing of all this rowdedow you say has been going on overhead, but, on the contrary, have had very charming dreams. I dreamed of being in a place where the sky was made up of the most beautiful colors,—purple, yellow, pale gold, and straw-color; and there were purple and yellow rainbows reaching down from the sky to me. At last I awoke, and heard the birds calling. Wasn’t that pretty? Now, little Violet, what did you dream?”
“In my dreams,” said the Violet, “the sky was all over blue,—a deep, beautiful blue. And I can’t tell you how it was,—the dream was a strange one,—but, while it lasted, this blue seemed to fall upon me,—to fall gently, as the dew falls; and with the blue came a delightful perfume. It was a very sweet dream.”
“Now I slept here quite accidentally,” said a young Sunflower, starting up; “but I, too, had my dreams. I dreamed of seeing something round and bright and glorious moving across the sky,—something which I so worshipped, so longed to be like, that, wherever it went, I never failed to turn towards it; and, in return for my worship, this glorious object sent me down floods of its golden light.”
“As for me,” said a Damask Rose-Bush, “I haven’t been to bed at all, but have slept standing; and in my dreams the sky was the color of the east just before sunrise, and every object seemed bathed in its lovely light. There was a fragrance, too, in the air about me, and whispers, very faint whispers, which sounded like this,—‘Love, love, love!’ and there were little winged boys hovering around.”
“Now I,” said the Woodbine, “slept leaning against the house, and my dreams were chiefly of climbing. Nothing would satisfy me but getting higher. And really the dream seems to have meant something. I have strange sensations: I feel active, restless. What has got into me, I wonder. It must be the sap. Well, here I go!”