Treas are grate. They are so wild and wounderful. There is so many kinds here. The trea I love best of them all, is the U.K. Liptes. It is fragran; it has the sun and the erth all flowers and the swaying beauty of its great youth. I loved it from the first. It is beauty that stays.
I went up to a grove the other day and along a little lone path—the mist and odor of them lingering in deep shadows. My feet broke the deep silences and a Voice came and spoke soft to me: "If you listen long enough you can hear——" I think it was my Master speaking, for a glow came around me, after He had spoke.
The Song of the Sperit
Life is not any good until you forget your boddy; then you get all the power of living, but you can't do anything that you feel like doing.
Lether:
All lether has a mystery in it. It is the animal's mystery. The misteks of the other world know it, and try to tell us. I have been told but my mind has not received it. I will hafto wait until it does. I think I will know it all in a fue years. I will tell the rest of the world, if I hear it first. I would like to be the first to hear it.
Stones:
The whole erth was of stone.
God thought that he would make it something good. He sent the Old Mother Nature down and she spent years and years, but she did not know what to put on it. She went up to God and He took her to a room, and showed her the things that He had to put on the Erth.
They were sperits, so she got them one at a time and brought them down.