Spring! Apple blossoms and lilacs perfumed the fresh morning. Peter felt marvellous as he drove the cattle to the back pasture. He glanced into the neighbor's yard. If he should by chance espy Susie Reimer there, it would be the best day ever. He was in luck for, sure enough, he caught a glimpse of her as she disappeared behind the honeysuckle bush hiding the entrance to her privy. All village yards had a leafy bush growing there. No one, however modest, would now be ashamed to visit the facility, even in broad daylight.

Peter, romantic but shy by nature, had always liked Susie. Actually, he loved her and blushed at the very thought of any sort of intimacy with this heavenly creature. It was time to tell her. He mulled it over in his mind all day. Ask his mother or father what he should do? He just didn't know, since the topic of love was never discussed in his home. His friends? The boys would never let him live it down. Forget it all together? Better not; Susie was far too pretty with her curly hair and laughing eyes. His face reddened when he thought of her figure. It was a miracle that she wasn't yet spoken for. Besides, it was spring when the young blades in the neighbourhood were beginning to feel their oats.

He himself often experienced a surge of heat. Sweat dripped down his armpits and sometimes even down his nose. His mother's cooking, usually so delicious, had lost all its flavor. He couldn't get to sleep at night. The breeze outside his open window whispered, "Susie, Susie, I love you so."

Suddenly he knew exactly what to do. He found a flashlight and a pencil, then stepped out the door. There was a full moon but all the houses were dark. Every sensible person was fast asleep. Good! No one would disturb him. Quietly he sneaked into the Reimer's biffy. With the aid of his light he wrote inside the door: "Susie, Susie, how I love you / I love you more and more each day / What do you think, what do you say?/ Be mine! Name our wedding day." Surely his love would read it as she sat there brooding, perhaps thinking of him.

Next morning before breakfast, Susie marched into Peter's yard. Peter was shovelling manure out of the pig pen when she confronted him with, "I don't mind getting hitched right after harvest time. Otherwise, God forbid, you'll write some more of your so-called poetry inside my privy door!"

---