E.V.L.
* * * * *
IN THE MOVEMENT.
How I came to be able to understand the language of trees is a secret.
But I do understand it. It is my peculiar privilege to overhear all
kinds of whispered conversation--green speech in green shades--as I
take my rest underneath the boughs on a country walk. Some day I shall
set down fully the result of these leaves-droppings, but at the moment
I want to tell only of what I heard some blackberry bushes saying last
week.
"From what I hear," said the first bush, "the cost of everything's
going up by leaps and bounds."
"How is that?" asked one of its neighbours.
"It's due, I understand," the first bush replied, "partly to scarcity
of labour and partly to profiteering."
"I don't see why we shouldn't participate," said another bush. "Here
we are, covered with fruit, and it's all just as free as ever it was.
That's absurd, after a big war. The duty of a war is to make things
dearer and remove freedom."
"Of course," said the others.
"'Your blackberries will cost you more'--that should be our motto,"
said the first bush. "We must be up to date."
* * * * *
A few days later, after one of our infrequent post-bellum gleams of
sunshine, I met the Lady of the White House and all her nice children
returning from a day's blackberrying.
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