can say just what comes into her head. That is conversation. Here’s a little path I never saw before. Let’s explore it.”
The path was a winding one, so narrow that the girls walked in single file and even then the fir boughs brushed their faces. Under the firs were velvety cushions of moss, and further on, where the trees were smaller and fewer, the ground was rich in a variety of green growing things.
“What a lot of elephant’s ears,” exclaimed Diana. “I’m going to pick a big bunch, they’re so pretty.”
“How did such graceful feathery things ever come to have such a dreadful name?” asked Priscilla.
“Because the person who first named them either had no imagination at all or else far too much,” said Anne, “Oh, girls, look at that!”
“That” was a shallow woodland pool in the center of a little open glade where the path ended. Later on in the season it would be dried up and its place filled with a rank growth of ferns; but now it was a glimmering placid sheet, round as a saucer and clear as crystal. A ring of slender young birches encircled it and little ferns fringed its margin.
“How sweet!” said Jane.
“Let us dance around it like wood-nymphs,” cried Anne, dropping her basket and extending her hands.
But the dance was not a success for the ground was boggy and Jane’s rubbers came off.
“You can’t be a wood-nymph if you have to wear rubbers,” was her decision.
