While she so did, the baby did have a wake-up. She said I might rock it in its cradle. I went in a quick way to do so. I did give its cradle little touches on its corner with my fingers, and it did rock in a gentle way. As the cradle so did rock back and forth in that gentle way, I did sing to the dear baby in it a little song. I did sing to it le chant de fleurs that Angel Father did teach me to sing of hyacinthe, éclaire, nenufar, rose, iris et dauphinelle et oléandre et romarin, lis, eglantier, anemone, narcisse et souci. I did sing it four times over, and the baby did go to sleeps again. I do so love to watch it in its cradle.
Afterwards I went to look for thoughts. Every day now I do look for thoughts in flowers. Some times they are hidden away in the flower-bell—and sometimes I find them on a wild rose—and sometimes they are among the ferns—and sometimes I climb away up in the trees to look looks for them. So many thoughts do abide near unto us. They come from heaven and live among the flowers and the ferns, and often I find them in the trees. I do so love to go on searches for the thoughts that do dwell near about.
[CHAPTER XXX
How Opal and the Little Birds from the Great Tree Have a Happy Time at the House of Dear Love.]
When I was come home from school this afternoon, first I did go to the wood-shed to carry in wood. I saw there was some new bran in the bran-sack-box. That box is a big box. I make climbs up on it sometimes to have thinks. And Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus makes a climb up too. Then I get down and make a pile of wood high enough so Brave Horatius can make a jump climb up. We have likes for that big bran-sack-box. Jenny Strong says why we do have likes for that box is because it is a hard box to get up on. But we do get up on it often. Sometimes I do eat my bowl of bread and milk for supper there on the bran-sack-box.
There is another box in the wood-shed. In that other box is a sack of wheat. In morning-time a little bit of it goes with the scraps to feed the chickens. In evening before gray-light-time more wheat from that sack goes to feed the chickens. And the chickens do have likes for that wheat from that sack in that box. I strew it on the ground for them in swings. I swing my arm a long swing and then a short swing. When I do swing it a long swing the wheat goes far. When I swing it a short swing it goes not so. It goes only a little ways. To-day I did swing my arm four long swings and three short swings and two more long swings. The chickens were glad to have it so. They did pick up that wheat in a hurry way.
Then I went into the kitchen to get the egg-turner to pat the dirt down good around that tomato plant that’s been dabbling its toes in the brook and is now planted again. Just when I got it most patted down right, so it looked real proper—just then the mamma stepped behind me. She turned me over her knee. She would n’t listen to explanations. She just applied that egg-turner to the back part of me. Now I feel too much sore to sit down, so I lean over a stump to print this. I have thinks I will go goes to the house of Dear Love.
I so did. I went through the near woods and into the far woods. In my going I went by where the man of the long step that whistles most all of the time does gather ferns for the pensée girl with the far-away look in her eyes. There little ferns grow tall and big ferns grow very tall. And sunbeams and shadows are among them before gray-light-time. It is the same place where the man that wears gray neckties and is kind to mice did dig up little ferns to make fern wishes to the fairies when I put letters in the moss-box by the old log. But now we dig not up little ferns here. We find them in another place. We have feels the fairies would like it, and these ferns grow there for the pensée girl with the far-away look in her eyes. Often it is now she is come to visit her aunt of the gray calico dress with a black bow at its neck.
After I did say a little prayer at the growing-place of the little tall ferns and the very tall ferns, I did go on. I went on along a winding path that goes in between old logs. I went a little way. I did hear a little squeal. I did look looks about. There was Solomon Grundy coming after me just as quick as he could come. His little legs did bring him in a quick way. I made a stop to wait for him. He was joys all over when he did come up by me. He did jump upon me. And his squeals were squeals of gladness. Then we did go on together. We went on. As we so did, I did sing to him one of the songs Angel Father did teach me to sing. Every day I do sing him one of them. To-day I did sing him un chant des fleurs, de fête, d’oncle, of souci et eglantine et pensée et tulipe et quintefeuille et ulmaire et apalachine et tournesol et romarin et éclaire. He did grunt grunts in-between times.
When we were come to the house of Dear Love, they were standing by the steps. The husband of Dear Love did bring home to her a little nest that was in a tree that they did fall in the far woods to-day. The nest it was a long nest. Its longness was very long. I have thinks when the wind did go through the woods sometimes this cradle did swing. Its largeness was so long. The husband of Dear Love did think these little birds were most ready to fly from the nest when the tree did fall to-day. All the six little birds but one did get death as the tree did fall. They were such little things when we did take them out. The one live one was hungry. And we did feed him. We did feed him little bits at a time—a little bit of egg that was left in the dinner-pail of the husband of Dear Love, did give to this little bird some satisfaction feels. Dear Love did cuddle it warm in her hands, and her husband did make the piece of egg into little divides for me to give to it. It did open its mouth most wide.