“I will do so with pleasure,” said Brother June, taking the staff held out to him, and giving the fire a vigorous poke. At this, the winter disappeared, the trees sprang into full leaf, and crimson berries were seen amidst the creeping tendrils of the strawberry plant.
Clare gathered as much of the sweet fruit as she could carry, and once more thanked her friends with a grateful smile.
“You are welcome,” they cried in chorus, and as Brother January took back his staff the winter once more spread its mantle over the earth.
Instead of being grateful for the delicious fruit that Clare had brought her, Laura was more vexed than ever to find she had not been eaten by wolves. Her mother, too, looked at the poor girl angrily, and sent her out to the barn, as if she could no longer bear the sight of her.
Clare was barely awake next morning when she was told that she must go to the forest and bring home some apples for her sister Laura, who had a fancy for them.
“But it’s so dark, dear mother,” cried Clare in terror.
“Make haste and go,” was the only answer, and as quickly as her numbed fingers would allow her, Clare finished her simple toilet and started on her way.
The robin was still asleep with his head tucked under his wing, but a tiny wood-mouse poked out his head from his nest in the foot of a hollow tree, as he heard her footsteps upon the frozen snow.
“If you walk straight on, you will find your friends,” he squeaked, and Clare thankfully followed his directions. Before long she was warming herself before the glowing fire, and the brothers were asking with much sympathy why she had again been sent to face the cold.
“‘Apples’!” cried Brother January, when she had told them. “Ah! it’s your concern now, Brother September.”