THE WAY TO GRANDPA'S. 81
��THE WAY TO GRANDPA'S.
��BY LAURA GARLAND CARR.
A well-worn path across the field —
Round barley-lot and through the corn — Here showing clearly, there concealed By drooping grass, at dewy morn !
The older people walked straight through, But many curves our young feet knew !
Out through the barn for just one glance
At swallows flitting to and fro— At queer black heads, with look askance, From out mud nests, at us below — For just one tumble on the hay, Then off, through back-doors, on our way!
Down by the stone-heap, framed around
By raspb'ry bushes young and old. Just there, beneath a rock, we found A whole ant city in the mould ! 'Twas but a step outside the way — We'd not been there for one whole day !
Then over yonder, by the ledge,
The blueb'ry bush that stood alone Seemed wooing us with offered pledge Of berries ripe and fully grown ; And close beside, in grassy rest, We found a tiny chip-bird's nest.
We reached the style— a pleasant place
Beneath a spreading maple tree-^- And there we tarried long to trace The wayward flight of bird and bee, Or watched the chipmunk rise and fall, Darting adown the pasture wall.
The pasture bars— too wide and high
For little fingers to undo- But many crevices were nigh Where little forms could " sidle " through ! Beyond, the orchard, darkly green, While " cat-tail " flags grew rank between !
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