nvitation, for Zulime was fond of him and had only one
point of contention with him: "I wish you wouldn't wear your working
clothes about the street," she said--and artfully added, "You are so
handsome when you are in your Sunday suit, I wish you would wear it all
the time."

He smiled with pleasure, but replied: "I'd look fine hoeing potatoes in
my Sunday suit, wouldn't I!" Nevertheless he was mindful of her request
and always came to dinner in, at worst, his second best.

Each day the gardens about us took on charm. The plum and cherry trees
flung out banners of bloom and later the apple trees flowered in
pink-and-white radiance. Wonder-working sap seemed to spout into the air
through every minute branch. Showers of rain alternated with vivid
sunshine, and through the air, heavy with perfume, the mourning dove
sang with sad insistence as if to remind us of the impermanency of May's
ineffable loveliness. Butterflies suddenly appeared in the grass, and
the bees toiled like harvesters, so eager, so busy that they tumbled
over one another in their haste. Nature was at her sweetest and
loveliest, and in the midst of it walked my young wife, in quiet
anticipation of motherhood.

Commonplace to others our rude homestead grew in beauty and significance
to us. Day by day we sat on our front porch, and watched the clouds of
blossoms thicken. If we walked in our garden we felt the creative loam
throbbing beneath our feet. Each bird seemed as proud of the place as
we. Each insect was in a transport of activity.

Into the radiant white of the cherry blossoms, impetuous green shoots
(new generations) appeared as if in feverish haste, unwilling to await
the passing of the flowers. The hills to the south were soaring bubbles
of exquisite green vapor dashed with amber and pink and red. Each
morning the shade of the maple trees deepened, and on the lawn the
dandelions opened, sowing with pieces of gold the velvet of the sward.
The songs of the robin, the catbird and the thrush became more
confident, more prolix until, at last, the drab and angular little
village was transfigured into celestial beauty by the heavenly light and
melody of completed spring.

In a certain sense here was the wealth I had been struggling to secure.
Here were--seemingly--all the elements of man's content, a broad roof, a
generous garden, spreading trees, blossoming shrubs, a familiar horizon
line, a lovely wife--and the promise of a child!

Truly, I sho