is a pig that does belong to the man that our lane does belong to.
After I did tell them all about it being the going-away day of Saint Louis, I did go my way to the garden. The golden rod did nod, "It is good that he is born." The tall sunflowers in the garden there did say, "It is his day, it is his day." I went adown the carrot-rows. They were all whispering soft whispers. I have thinks they were saying little thank prayers for the goodness of Saint Louis. The cabbage-plants were all smiling as I passed them by. I think they are right glad for the drink of water I gave each one of them last night.
From the garden I did go to tell other folks. I did sing the little song of Saint Louis as I did go along. The sun, it was hot down on my head. I took two big maple leaves and they did some help to keep its warmness from my head. I went on. Once at the edge of the near woods I met with my dear Thomas Chatterton Jupiter Zeus. We went on together. I did carry him in one arm, and I did hold a maple leaf over him with the other hand. A long way we went, in about and out about, and many little folks we did tell about this day being the going-away day of Saint Louis.
By-and-by, after it was a very long time, there was no sun. The warmness did have a different feel. There were gray clouds in the sky. Some were darkness. I did go in hurry steps. I went not from the road. I did go the way it went around the bend.
