Fragrant Quote for January 1st, 2012 -The triangular society: Leaves from the life of a Portland family By Elizabeth Akers Allen

It was in the last of May, and an exceptionally lovely morning. All the family were in the garden; the mother, in a white sunbonnet, was trying to cut the dead branches from a climbing rose-bush; Brunette, with her hat covered with cobwebs, from a recent rummnge in the cellar after the last summer's hoe, stood trying to tighten it on the handle by pounding it with a half-brick; and Bob, with no head covering but his yellow hair, was kneeling beside his special flower-bed, dibbling little holes, in a row, with a slatepencil. The air was full of the very spirit of summer, and sweet with the odor of new fruit blossoms, and springing grass, and the wild, woodsy, delicious smell of freshly-dug earth, while the birds seemed holding a very jubilee of rejoicing song.
"How lovely it is," said Brunette, pausing in her labor to pet her pounded thumb, " and how many fragrances there are! I smell the moist ground, and the fresh sods, and the buds on the trees, yes, the very bark of the twigs and trunks, I believe, and beside all these, and the scent of the fruit-blossoms, there is still something nameless, and sweeter than any or all. I wonder if it is the breath of bird-songs? How much finer is that red-breast's carol than the bubble-and-squeak of the ordinary caged canary-bird!"
Fragrant Quote for January 1st, 2012 -The triangular society: Leaves from the life of a Portland family By Elizabeth Akers Allen