Lydia of the Pines
There was still light enough to see by. Lydia stood Patience on the bed and got her into her nightdress after gently persuading the baby to let her fasten the balloon to the foot of the bed. Then she carried her to the little rocker by the window and with a look that was the very essence of motherhood began to rock the two year old to sleep. Presently there floated down to Amos, smoking his pipe on the front step, Lydia's childish, throaty contralto:
"I've reached the land of corn and wine With all its riches surely mine, I've reached that beauteous shining shore, My heaven, my home, for ever more."
A little pause, during which crickets shrilled, then, in a softer voice:
"Blow him again to me While my little one, while my pretty one sleeps."
Another pause--and still more softly:
"Wreathe me no gaudy chaplet; Make it from simple flowers Plucked from the lowly valley Afte