Who would dream, looking at this land which seems reduced to rubble by too much brown - wind-burned grasses, torn and broken trees, snow-battered soil - who would dream that these soon will revive? Rains will come drifting down; green armies will rise up on every hand . . . will move in and occupy, en masse, the hills and vales. Then, restoration begun, all the old wounds and scars of earth will heal in vernal overgrowth and the common weal; ruins will bloom, while a delighted sun hails the basic victories of grass!