"This is the first dairy I ever kept. Saint Elspeth gave me the book which she ment for Jasper Strong, St. John's brother who wood rather be a writer than a huming boy. He ought to change places with me, cause I'd rather be a live girl any day than a norther which is what Gale wants to be and that is one reason I am going to keep a dairy as she may find it usful when she gets to be famus like St. Elspeth's sister Ester. I should not want to keep a dairy if I had to tend to it every day, but St. Elspeth says just to rite when I feel like it which I don't s'pose will be offen as there is usuly something to do which I like better. I am riting today becaus it rains and I cant go out doors.
"The sparrow is playing in the mud
Don't I wish I could, too.
He don't need rubbers on his feet,
Behind the clouds it's blue.
He wears feathers stead of close
And to him the rain aint wet.
I wisht that I wore feathers, too,
Then I'd stay out doors you bet.
"The raindrop fairy is my newest fairy. I'll tell Allee all about it when she gets well enough so's I can go home. They are very wet but it aint their fault. If they wuz dry they wouldnt be water. They go about doing lots of good to the trees and flowers which couldnt grow without water, and we mustn't fuss cause there is always sun somewhere and its a cumfert to no it wont rain all the time. When the storm is over the raindrop faries strech a net of red and blue and green and yellow akros the sky which means it wont rain any more until the next time. Thats the way with huming beings. If we skowl and growl we're making a huming thunder-storm, but just as soon as the smile comes out thats the rainbow and shows the sun is shining, 'cause there is never a rainbow without the sun is in the clouds behind it. I'm going to smile and smile after this and be a reglar sunflour all myself."
"Dear little Peace," murmured Elizabeth, as she closed the book and laid it back on the desk. "It's mean to laugh at her precious diary, particularly when she has taken such pains with it and tried her best to please."
"She'll make an author yet," chuckled the minister. "I am proud of our little philosopher. She is scattering more sunshine than she dreams of, and some day will harvest a big crop of sunflowers."
CHAPTER VII
A VOICE FROM THE LILAC BUSHES
It was a glorious morning in May. Spring had really come at last with its warm, life-giving sunshine, and the air was heavy with the smell of growing things. Overhead the blue sky was clear and cloudless, underfoot the new grass made a thick carpet invitingly cool and refreshing. The trees were sporting fresh garlands of leaves, and in woods and gardens the bright-colored blossoms glowed and blushed. How beautiful it all was!
Peace paused at Elizabeth's side in the open doorway to drink in the rich fragrance of the lilacs, whose purple plumes nodded so temptingly from the hedge across the way. For days it had been part of her morning program to rush out of doors as soon as she was dressed to sniff hungrily at the lilac-laden air, but never before had they smelled so sweet nor looked so beautiful and feathery as they did this morning, for now they had reached the height of their perfection. Tomorrow some of their beauty would be gone; they would be growing old.