When she awakened in the morning she did not speak of what had happened and I did not dare to . She seemed more cheerful that day than she had been , and went about her household duties briskly and skillfully . My fear lifted . I was sure now that she had only dreamed . And I was confirmed in my hopeful belief when two nights had passed away uneventfully . Then , on the third night , he dream-child called to her again . I wakened from a troubled doze to find her dressing herself with feverish haste . `` He is calling me , '' she cried . `` Oh , do n't you hear him ? Ca n't you hear him ? Listen -- listen -- the little , lonely cry ! Yes , yes , my precious , mother is coming . Wait for me . Mother is coming to her pretty boy ! '' I caught her hand and let her lead me where she would . Hand in hand we followed the dream-child down the harbor shore in that ghostly , clouded moonlight . Ever , she said , the little cry sounded before her . She entreated the dream-child to wait for her ; she cried and implored and uttered tender mother-talk . But , at last , she ceased to hear the cry ; and then , weeping , wearied , she let me lead her home again . What a horror brooded over that spring -- that so beautiful spring !
It was a time XXXXX wonder and marvel ; of the soft touch of silver rain on greening fields ; of the incredible delicacy of young leaves ; of blossom on the land and blossom in the sunset .
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