"'I am the sun. I wrap you in a glowing mantle of warmth and light. I make the earth grow and sing for you. It is I who wake the dawn-wind and the birds. Take my warm kiss on your upturned face.' "And that was the Second Gift. The person thanked the sun very much, and went in, with his heart all warmed, to eat his breakfast. As he sat eating, in at the window came all manner of little sounds--twitterings and sighings and warblings and rustlings, and all the little voices said together: "'We are the sounds of the open. We are the birds in the russet meadow, and the whispering of the orchard trees, the cheep of the crickets in the long grass, and the whole humming, throbbing voice of out-of-doors. Take our kiss upon your waiting senses.' "That was the Third Gift. The person ran out at the door to thank the little sounds, when what should meet him but a host of the most delicious scents! "'We are the smell of the tawny grass, and the good tang of the wood-smoke. We are the fragrance of ripening apples in the orchard, and honeysuckle over the wall. We are the clean, cool, mellowing atmosphere of September. Breathe our sweetness!' "That was the Fourth Gift. To be sure, the nice person was quite overwhelmed by this time, for he never had expected such a thing. As he stooped to thank the delicious scents, he touched a little clump of asters by the door-stone. "'Greeting!' they piped. 'We are the flowers. We are the asters by the door, and burnished goldenrod in the orchard; trumpeting honeysuckle on the fence, sumach burning by the roadside, juicy milkweed by the gate. Take our cool, green kiss on your gentle fingers!' "He stroked their little purple heads, and flung himself down beside them for a moment, to thank them. As he did so, a big, warm voice came from beneath him: "'I am the earth. I am the cool clasp of the tall grass by the gate. I am the crispness of the heath-grass on the upland. I will rock you to sleep on my great, grass-carpeted breast. I will give you rest and security. Take my great kiss on your body.' "That was the Sixth Gift. Dear me! the person was delighted. He lay with his cheek to the good earth's heart, thanking it, when a big gusty voice came swinging out of the east. "'I am the sea. I give you the sound of water about the boat's bow, and the cry of the gulls; the wet, salt smack of me, the damp fog on your face, and the call out into the wide places.' "The person jumped up and turned his face to the blue glint of the bay, and thanked the sea for the Seventh Gift. Then he went into the house to tidy up the hearth. As he came into the room, a queer, gentle, melodious voice, which seemed to come from the organ, said: "'I am Music. I hold the key to enchantment. It is I who will sum up for you all the other gifts and make them mine--and yours. Take my kiss within your soul.' "And that was the Eighth Gift," Felicia paused. "But the ninth?" Kirk whispered. "I'm trying to think of it."