Little buds bob all down the trail,
Short and white as a lambkin's tail;
Hedges and ledges with blooms are full,
Fluffy and fair as a lambkin's wool.
Mighty switchy and sweet, and all that--
But he's going out like a lion.
_Hold on to your hat_!"

"There's not a single solitary clock at this place, anyway," Amos
remarked.

"Don't be too sure," J. M. told him. "It may be, you see, that the tree
keeps a clock in its trunk. First thing you know, the clock may speak up
and tell on itself, the way Tom Tuttle used to do."

"We never heard of Tom Tuttle," said little Ann.

"Never heard of Tom Tuttle?" echoed the Journeying Man. "Then you shall
hear of him, as soon as--"

From a hole in the tree came the sound of a clock striking loudly. J. M.
was bound to go on, then, just as he had begun, and so he said:--

"As soon as ever spring drew near, and brooks and winds were loose,
Tom Tuttle would be late to school with never an excuse.

"So little and so very late! And when the teacher said
That he must take his punishment, he merely hung his head.

"She'd ask him all the hardest things in all the hardest books;
And queerly he would answer her, with absent-minded looks.

"'How many yards make twenty rods?' And Tommy said, 'Oh, dear,
Twelve rods I've cut for fishing poles in our own yard this year.'

"'How many perches make a mile? Now think before you speak.'
'Perches?' he said, 'There's millions in the upper sawmill creek.'

"'What grows in southern Hindustan?' Said Tom, 'I do not know;
But I can take you to a tree where blackheart cherries grow.'

"'Name Christopher Columbus's boats.' 'I can't remember, quite;
But mine, that lies below the falls, is named the Water Sprite.'

"'Now what is "whistle"--noun or verb?' 'I do not know indeed;
But just the other day I made a whistle from a reed.'

"Then all the little listening boys would wiggle in their places,
And all the little watching girls would have to hide their faces;

"And, 'Thomas, Thomas!' teacher'd say, and shake her head in doubt,
And make him write a hundred words before the day was out.

"'T was always so when grass turned green and blue was in the sky--
Tom Tuttle coming late to school and never telling why."

They had a good laugh at Tom Tuttle; but presently the thoughts of Amos
turned to March hares.

"Do they ev