THE CHILD'S BOOK OF THE SEASONS
BY
ARTHUR RANSOME
Author of "The Stone Lady."
NATURE BOOKS FOR CHILDREN.
With Illustrations by Frances Craine
LONDON
ANTHONY TREHERNE & COMPANY, LTD.
II, YORK BUILDINGS, ADELPHI, W.C.
1906
FOR ROBERT AND PHYLLIS.
CONTENTS.
I. Spring
II. Summer
III. Autumn
IV. Winter
I
SPRING
Spring always seems to begin on the morning that the Imp, in a brightpink nightgown, comes rushing into my room without knocking, and throwshimself on my bed, with a sprig of almond blossom in his hand. You see,the almond blossom grows just outside the Imp's window, and the Impwatches it very carefully. We are none of us allowed to see it until itis ready, and then, as soon as there is a sprig really out, he picks itand flies all round the house showing it to everybody. For the Imp lovesthe Spring, and we all know that those beautiful pink blossoms mean thatSpring is very near.
"Spring!" shouts the Imp, waving his almond blossoms, and we begin tokeep a little note-book, and write down in it after the almond blossomday all the other days of the really important things, the day when wefirst see the brimstone butterfly, big and pale and golden yellow,flitting along the hedgerow near the ground, and the day of picking thefirst primrose and the finding of the first bird's nest.
And then walks begin to be real fun. No dull jig-jog, jig-jog, just somany miles before going home to lunch, when all the time you would muchrather have stayed at home altogether. The Imp and the Elf love Springwalks, and are always running ahead trying to see things. There are sucha lot of things to see, and every one of them means that Summer is alittle nearer. And that is a jolly piece of news, is it not?
The Imp and the Elf have a nurse to take them for walks, and a very niceold nurse she is, with lots of fairy tales. But somehow she is not muchinterested in flowers, or birds, or mice, or even in the Spring, so thatvery soon after the day of the apple blossom those two children startcoming to my door soon after breakfast. They knock both at once veryquietly. I pretend not to hear. They knock again, and still I do notanswer. Then they thunder on the door. Do you know how to thunder on adoor? You do it by doubling up your fist and hitting hard with the podgypart that comes at the end where your thumb is not. You can make atremendous noise that way, And then suddenly I jump up and roar out,"Who's there?" as if I were a terrible giant. And the Imp and the Elfcome tumbling in, and stand in front of me, and bow and say, "Oh, Mr.Ogre, we hope you are not very really truly busy, because we want you tocome for a walk."
And then we stick our things on, and away we go through the garden andinto the fields, with our three pairs of eyes as wide open as they willgo, so as not to miss anything.
We watch the lark rise high off the ploughed lands and sing up into thesky. He is a little speckled brown bird with a very conceited head, ifonly you can get near enough to see him. The Imp says he ought not to beso proud just because he has a fine voice. And certainly, if you watchthe way he swings into the air, with little leaps of flying, higher andhigher and higher, you cannot help thinking that perhaps h