`` Jims cut his first tooth today . I am very glad , for he is nearly nine months old and Mary Vance has been insinuating that he is awfully backward about cutting his teeth . He has begun to creep but does n't crawl as most babies do . He trots about on all fours and carries things in his mouth like a little dog . Nobody can say he is n't up to schedule time in the matter of creeping anyway -- away ahead of it indeed , since ten months is Morgan 's average for creeping . He is so cute , it will be a shame if his dad never sees him . His hair is coming on nicely too , and I am not without hope that it will be curly . `` Just for a few minutes , while I 've been writing of Jims and the concert , I 've forgotten Ypres and the poison gas and the casualty lists . Now it all rushes back , worse than ever . Oh , if we could just know that Jem is all right ! I used to be so furious with Jem when he called me Spider . And now , if he would just come whistling through the hall and call out , ` Hello , Spider , ' as he used to do , I would think it the loveliest name in the world . '' Rilla put away her diary and went out to the garden . The spring evening was very lovely . The long , green , seaward-looking glen was filled with dusk , and beyond it were meadows of sunset . The harbour was radiant , purple here , azure there , opal elsewhere . The maple grove was beginning to be misty green . Rilla looked about her with wistful eyes . Who said that spring was the joy of the year ? It was the heart-break of the year .
And the pale-purply mornings and the daffodil stars and the wind in the old pine were so many separate pangs XXXXX the heart-break .
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