An Inverted Spring Idyl

"An Inverted Spring Idyl" by Charles Battell Loomis is a whimsical and satirical poem that playfully subverts the traditional themes of spring. Through its clever use of language and humor, the work challenges the idyllic notions often associated with the season, offering a fresh perspective on renewal and nature. Loomis's unique voice and imaginative imagery craft a narrative that juxtaposes the expected joys of spring with a more ironic and reflective take on life and its cycles. This work showcases Loomis's skill in blending wit and poetry, inviting readers to reconsider their perceptions of the natural world.

• Short story

								
It was a bright morning in the early spring, a time to call forth
poetic fancies in the mind of the most prosaic; and Jack was more
imaginative than many boys. He had been spending the winter at his
uncle’s in the country, and these warm, languorous days had made him
long for New York once more. He sat astride of a maple-branch, on
which the crimson leaves were just peeping out. Ah me, what would
he not give to be back in the city! He leaned back against the
tree-trunk and gave himself over to day-dreams.

The boys on his block were spinning tops. Oh, for a good hard city
pavement for just five minutes, that he might do the same. Through
the hazy air came the anything but drowsy tinklings of the grip-men’s
gongs; a scissors-grinder blew his horn; and the exciting clang
of an ambulance-gong split the air as the ambulance rattled over
the Belgian blocks. Oh, for an hour of the dear city in the happy
springtime! To hear once more the piano-organ and the harp, and the
thousand delightful sounds that were so lamentably absent from the
country!

What was that? Did he hear bells? Yes, surely it was the ragman. He
had never realized how he loved him. He could see the fellow, lean
and ragged and bent, pushing his cart, while from his lips came the
cry of “Rha-ags! rha-ags!” and from the sagging cord the sweet bells
jingled. Yes, surely it was the bells. All thought of the lonely
country faded away, and he was once more home; the boys were just
around the corner, and the bells were coming nearer.

Their tintinnabulations grew so loud that he waked from his day-dream
and saw--not a familiar and beloved city sight, but a tiresome herd
of cows coming home to be milked, their harsh bells jangling out of
tune.
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