The black, scudding clouds, and the squalls of rain and sleet and snow, whitening and melting and vanishing, and the cold, clear nights, with crackling frost, all retarded the work of the warming sun.

The day came, however, when the greens held their own with the grays; and this was the assurance of nature that spring could not be denied, and that summer would follow.
* * * * * Bent Wade was hiding in the willows along the trail that followed one of the brooks.

Of late, on several mornings, he had skulked like an Indian under cover, watching for some one.

On this morning, when Columbine Belllounds came riding along, he stepped out into the trail in front of her.
"Oh, Ben! you startled me!" she exclaimed, as she held hard on the frightened horse.
"Good mornin', Collie," replied Wade.

"I'm sorry to scare you, but I'm particular anxious to see you.