ks and sandpipers hopped ridiculously.

It was, curiously enough, easier to run than to walk in Emmons' Woods,
and even more natural to dance than to run. One became acquainted with
squirrels, established intimacies with chipmunks, and was on some sort
of civil relation with blackbirds. And, oh, the tossing green of the
young willows, where the lilac distance melted into the pale blue of the
sky! And, oh, the budding of the maples and the fringing of the oaks;
and, oh, the blossoming of the tulip trees and the garnering of the
chestnuts! And then, the wriggling things in the grass; the procession
of ants; the coquetries of the robins; and the Beyond, deepening,
deepening into the forest where it was safe only for the woodsmen to go.

On this particular Sunday one of us was requested not to squeal and run
about, and to remember that we wore our best shoes and need not mess
them unnecessarily. It was hard to be reminded just when the dance was
getting into my feet, but I tried to have Sunday manners, and went along
in the still woods, wondering why the purple colours disappeared as
we came on and what had been distance became nearness. There was a
beautiful, aching vagueness over everything, and it was not strange
that father, who had stretched himself on the moss, and mother, who was
reading Godey's Ladies' Book, should presently both of them be nodding.
So, that being a well-established fact--I established it by hanging over
them and staring at their eyelids--it seemed a good time for me to let
the dance out of my toes. Still careful of my fresh linen frock, and
remembering about the best shoes, I went on, demurely, down the green
alleys of the wood. Now I stepped on patches of sunshine, now in pools
of shadow. I thought of how naughty I was to run away like this, and of
what a mistake people made who said I was a good, quiet, child. I knew
that I looked sad and prim, but I really hated my sadness and primness
and goodness, and longed to let out all the interesting, wild, naughty
thoughts there were in me. I wanted to act as if I were bewitched, and
to tear up vines and wind them about me, to shriek to the echoes, and
to scold back at the squirrels. I wanted to take off my clothes and
rush into the pond, and swim like a fish, or wriggle like a pollywog.
I wanted to climb trees and drop from them; and, most of all--oh, with
what longing--did I wish to lift myself above the earth and fly into the
bland blue air!

I came