noon
There were a few white birches mixed with the poplars , so delicately formed and dainty in their slender branches and lacy leaves , they looked like nice little girls with flowing hair , coming down to bathe in the blue lake , timidly trying out the water with their white feet . The trees formed a semi-circle around the east side of the lake , leaving one side open to view , and she could see the prairie falling away to the river , which made a wide detour at this point . Pearl settled herself in her rustic seat , putting the newspaper , which she had left for the purpose , behind her back as she leaned against the tree , to keep the powdery bark from marking her blue coat , and leaning back contentedly , she drank in the spring sounds . The sun , which stood almost at noon , seemed to draw the leaves out like a magnet ; she could almost believe she saw them unfolding ; above her head there was a perfect riot of bird 's song , and a blue-bird , like a burst of music , went flashing across the water . A gray squirrel chattered as he ran up a tree behind her , and a rabbit , padding over the dead leaves on his way to the lake , made a sound like a bear . Up through the tree tops there had climbed a few blue rags of smoke , for behind her a sleepy prairie fire was eating backward toward a ploughed fire-guard , and the delightful acrid smell brought back the memory of past prairie fires , pleasant enough to think of , as life 's battles are , if they end victoriously . Not a breath stirred in the trees , and the prairie fire that smouldered so indolently was surely the gentlest of its race .