thout a
word. And then I beheld a noble sight; for though she was pale she did
as she was bidden, nor did she turn her eyes off the wound. But her
bosom rose and fell fast, as if some danger threatened her, and her
nostrils quivered, and I was minded to hold out my arms to save her from
falling. But she stood firm till all was done, and none but I was aware
of her having defied the base foe with such true valor.

Thenceforth she ever did me good service without shrinking; and
whensoever thereafter I had some hateful duty to do which meseemed I
might never bring myself to fulfil, I would remember Ann holding my
aunt's wound. And out of all this grew the good saying, "They who will,
can"--which the children are wont to call my motto.

CHAPTER VI.

Summer wore away; the oats in the forest were garnered and the vintage
had begun in the vine-lands. It was a right glorious sunny day; and if
you ask me at which time of the year forest life is the sweeter, whether
in Springtide or in Autumn, I could scarce say.

Aye, it is fair indeed in the woods when Spring comes gaily in. Spring
is the very Saviour, as it were, of all the numberless folk, great and
small, which grow green and blossom there, wherefore the forest holds
festival for his birthday and cradle feast as is but fitting! The
fir-tree lights up brighter tips to its boughs, as children do with
tapers at Christmastide. Then comes the largesse. It lasts much more
than one evening, and the gifts bestowed on all are without number, and
bright and various indeed to behold. As a father's tinkling bell brings
the children together, so the snowdrop bells call forth all the other
flowers. First and foremost comes the primrose, and cowslips--Heaven's
keys as we call them--open the gates to all the other children of the
Spring. "Come forth, come forth!" the returning birds shout from out the
bushes, and silver-grey catkins sprout on every twig. Beech leaves burst
off their sharp, brown sheaths and open to the light, as soft as taffety
and as green as emeralds.

The other trees follow the example, and so teach their boughs to make
a leafy shade against the sun as it mounts higher. Every creature that
loves its kind finds a voice under the blossoming May, and the dumb
forest is full of the call and answer of thankful and gladsome loving
things which have met together, and of sweet tunefulness and songs of
bridal joy.

Round nests have come into being in a thousand secre