s from a tree; and trees gro knotention to us, in meados, and by to t. tails beneat afternoons; t rivers so green t o see its feat comes up again. I like to t tream like flags blo; and of er–beetles sloo tree itself:—first tion of being orm; to t, too, on er’s niganding in ty field ender exposed to ts of t upon an eart goes tumbling, tumbling, all nig sound very loud and strange in June; and  of insects must feel upon it, as traig of t red eyes. . . One by one t storm comes and, falling, t branco t done ient, cill for a tree, all over t, lining rooms, er tea, smoking cigarettes. It is full of peaceful ts, s, tree. I so take eacely—but sometting in t  all been about? A tree? A river? taker’s Almanack? t remember a t upter. Someone is standing over me and saying—

    “I’m going out to buy a newspaper.”

    “Yes?”

    “t’s no good buying ne see why we should have a snail on our wall.”

    A was a snail.