little leaves of symphorine do whisper little whispers. I have thinks they are telling me they were come here before I was come here. I make a stop to have more listens. They do whisper, "See, petite Françoise, we were a long time come." I can see they were, too, because their toes have grown quite a ways down in the ground.
To-day, as I did walk a walk to where they grow, I did tell them about the day that it is. I told them all about this being the borning day of Jeanne d'Albret, mère de Henri IV, in 1528. I told the year-numbers on my fingers. I had thinks they might have remembers better if I so told them on my fingers. I do have remembers of numbers better when I do tell them on my fingers. Brave Horatius did stand by and listen while I so told them. We went on.
I tied bits of bread on the tips of the branches of the trees. Too, I tied on popcorn kernels. They looked like snow-flowers blooming there on fir trees. I looked looks back at them. I have knows the birds will be glad for them. Often I do bring them here for them. When I do have hungry feels I feel the hungry feels the birds must be having. So I do have comes to tie things on the trees for them. Some have likes for different things. Little gray one of the black cap has likes for suet. And other folks has likes for other things.
There is a little box in the woods that I do keep things for the pheasants and grouses and squirrels
