and he was once more under the apple-trees with the Princess. Before him was the glade, agleam with sunlight, fresh with the tender green of spring. The tiny brook, almost hidden by the lush grass and clumps of forget-me-nots, wandered away toward the road, and the blossom-laden trees narrowed toward it. Beyond was a blur of distant hills, and above was a radiant blue sky with a single fluffy cloud afloat upon it. December vanished. It was April once more. He could hear the trickling music of the sun-flecked stream, the trilling of the birds, and the droning of the bees. Then his eyes fell to a little tablet set at the bottom of the frame, and through the blurred glass he read:
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"The April joy of the blossoming world,
And the charm of April days."
