Wider grew the clearings in the forest lands.

Our fruit trees, which we had brought two thousand miles in the nursery wagon, began to put out tender leafage.

There were eastern flowers--marigolds, hollyhocks, mignonette--planted in the front yards of our little cabins.
Vines were trained over trellises here and there.

Each flower was a rivet, each vine a cord, which bound Oregon to our Republic.
Summer came on.

The fields began to whiten with the ripening grain.