It
turned out to be mild spring weather; the trees had large buds; spring
blossoms dressed the ground in the leafy meadows; the poplars' long,
thin pendants swayed; and in the little gardens, which one finds around
every cottage, the gooseberry bushes were green.
The warmth and the spring-budding had tempted the people out into the
gardens and roads, and wherever a number of them were gathered together
they were playing. It was not the children alone who played, but the
grown-ups also. They were throwing stones at a given point, and they
threw balls in the air with such exact aim that they almost touched the
wild geese. It looked cheerful and pleasant to see big folks at play;
and the boy certainly would have enjoyed it, if he had been able to
forget his grief because he had failed to save the city.
Anyway, he had to admit that this was a lovely trip. There was so much
singing and sound in the air. Little children played ring games, and
sang as they played. The Salvation Army was out. He saw a lot of people
dressed in black and red--sitting upon a wooded hill, playing on guitars
and brass instruments. On one road came a great crowd of people. They
were Good Templars who had been on a pleasure trip. He recognized them
by the big banners with the gold inscriptions which waved above them.
They sang song after song as long as he could hear them.
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