“The swamp is almost ruined now,” she said.  “The maples, walnuts, and cherries are all gone.  The talking trees are the only things left worth while.”

“The ‘talking trees!’ I don’t understand,” commented Philip.

“No wonder!” laughed Elnora.  “They are my discovery.  You know all trees whisper and talk during the summer, but there are two that have so much to say they keep on the whole winter, when the others are silent.  The beeches and oaks so love to talk, they cling to their dead, dry leaves.  In the winter the winds are stiffest and blow most, so these trees whisper, chatter, sob, laugh, and at times roar until the sound is deafening.  They never cease until new leaves come out in the spring to push off the old ones.  I love to stand beneath them with my ear to the trunks, interpreting what they say to fit my moods.  The beeches branch low, and their leaves are small so they only know common earthly things; but the oaks run straight above almost all other trees before they branch, their arms are mighty, their leaves large.  They meet the winds that travel around the globe, and from them learn the big things.”

Philip studied the girls face.  “What do the beeches tell you, Elnora?” he asked gently.

“To be patient, to be unselfish, to do unto others as I would have them do to me.”

“And the oaks?”

“They say ‘be true,’ ‘live a clean life,’ ’send your soul up here and the winds of the world will teach it what honour achieves.’”

“Wonderful secrets, those!” marvelled Philip.  “Are they telling them now?  Could I hear?”

“No.  They are only gossiping now.  This is play-time.  They tell the big secrets to a white world, when the music inspires them.”

“The music?”

“All other trees are harps in the winter.  Their trunks are the frames, their branches the strings, the winds the musicians.  When the air is cold and clear, the world very white, and the harp music swelling, then the talking trees tell the strengthening, uplifting things.”

“You wonderful girl!” cried Philip.  “What a woman you will be!”

“If I am a woman at all worth while, it will be because I have had such wonderful opportunities,” said Elnora.  “Not every girl is driven to the forest to learn what God has to say there.  Here are the remains of Freckles’s room.  The time the Angel came here he sang to her, and I listened.  I never heard music like that.  No wonder she loved him.  Every one who knew him did, and they do yet.  Try that log, it makes a fairly good seat.  This old store box was his treasure house, just as it’s now mine.  I will show you my dearest possession.  I do not dare take it home because mother can’t overcome her dislike for it.  It was my father’s, and in some ways I am like him.  This is the strongest.”