PUSSY WILLOWS
Soon after the skunk cabbage has sent up its purple hoods comes the pussy-willow season. But it is not every child who has the luck to be in the country at this time.
There is a clean, sweet smell in the air. Down in the boggy meadow, just before nightfall, the little frogs sing so loud that you wonder if they are trying to make you believe the birds have come back.
The brook is getting a bright green border. The buds on the trees are so big that you feel sure in a few hours they must burst open. And you know that each new day may bring with it some happy surprise,—a bird, a leaf, or a flower that you have not seen for many a long month.
So when you find the willow branches set thick with silken pussies, you know that a happy time has begun, at least for you country children.
And even the city children learn to love these soft pussies when they are placed in tall vases on the teacher’s desk.
If you look carefully at the different branches, you see that they bear different kinds of pussies; and your teacher will tell you, or perhaps you will discover yourselves, that these different branches were broken from different trees.
Fig. 197