It is here now! It has come, the Spring! Dickon says so!" "Has it ?" cried Colin, and though he really knew nothing about it he felt his heart beat.

He actually sat up in bed.
"Open the window!" he added, laughing half with joyful excitement and half at his own fancy.

"Perhaps we may hear golden trumpets!" And though he laughed, Mary was at the window in a moment and in a moment more it was opened wide and freshness and softness and scents and birds' songs were pouring through.
"That's fresh air," she said.

"Lie on your back and draw in long breaths of it.

That's what Dickon does when he's lying on the moor.