At all events she agreed. "Yes, it is," she
said. "It is so. And most of us don't realize how wonderful until it's
gone."
From the shadows by the gate Lucy Larcom sprang aloft to knock another
beetle galley-west. Lucy was distinctly a middle-aged cat, but he did
not allow the fact to trouble him. He gathered his June bugs while he
might and did not stop to dream vain dreams of vanished youth.
CHAPTER XV
Early June came to Gould's Bluffs. The last of the blossoms fell from
the apple and pear trees in the Phipps' orchard, there were young
swallows in the nests beneath the eaves of the shed, and tulips and
hyacinths gave color and fragrance to the flower beds in the front yard.
Down in the village Ras Beebe began his twice-a-year window dressing,
removing the caps, candy, sweaters, oil heaters, patent medicines and
mittens to substitute bathing suits, candy, straw hats, toy shovels,
patent medicines and caps. Small boys began barefoot experiments.
Miss Tamson Black departed for Nantucket to visit a cousin. Mr. Raish
Pulcifer had his wife resurrect his black-and-white striped flannel
trousers from the moth chest and hang them in the yard. "No use
talkin'," so Zach Bloomer declared, "summer is headin' down our way.
She'll be here afore we know it."
She was. One pleasant morning Galusha, emerging from the Phipps' "side
door," saw workmen about the premises of the Restabit Inn.
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