第21章

Butwhenamancamehomeatnight，afterlongday’slabour，knowingthatthedaysincreased，andsohiscareshouldmultiply；stillhefoundenoughoflighttoshowhimwhatthedayhaddoneagainsthiminhisgarden。Everyridgeofnew-turnedearthlookedlikeanoldman’smuscles，honeycombed，andstandingoutvoidofspring，andpowdery。Everyplantthathadrejoicedinpassingsuchawinternowwascowering，turnedaway，unfittomeettheconsequence。Flowingsaphadstoppeditscourse；flutedlinesshowedwantoffood，andifyoupinchedthetopmostspray，therewasnoreboundorfirmness。

Wethinkagooddeal，inaquietway，whenpeopleaskusaboutthem——ofsomefine，upstandingpear-trees，graftedbymygrandfather，whohadbeenverygreatlyrespected。AndhegotthosegraftsbyshelteringapoorItaliansoldier，inthetimeofJamestheFirst，amanwhonevercoulddoenoughtoshowhisgratefulmemories。Howhecametoourplaceisaverydifficultstory，whichIneverunderstoodrightly，havinghearditfrommymother。Atanyrate，therethepear-treeswere，andtheretheyaretothisveryday；andIwisheveryonecouldtastetheirfruit，oldastheyare，andrugged。

Nowthesefinetreeshadtakenadvantageofthewestwinds，andthemoisture，andthepromiseofthespringtime，soastofillthetipsofthespray-woodandtherowelsallupthebrancheswithacrowdofeagerblossom。Notthattheywereyetinbloom，norevenshowingwhiteness，onlythatsomeoftheconeswereopeningatthesideofthecapwhichpinchedthem；andthereyoumightcountperhaps，adozennobs，likeverylittlebuttons，butgrooved，andlined，andhuddlingclose，tomakeroomforoneanother。Andamongthesebudsweregray-greenblades，scarcebiggerthanahairalmost，yetcurvingsoasiftheirpurposewastoshieldtheblossom。

Otherofthespur-points，standingontheolderwoodwherethesapwasnotsoeager，hadnotbursttheirtunicyet，butwereflayedandflakedwithlight，castingoffthehuskofbrowninthree-corneredpatches，asIhaveseenaScotchman’splaid，orashislegsshowsthroughit。Thesebuds，atadistance，lookedasiftheskyhadbeenrainingcreamuponthem。

Nowallthisfairdelighttotheeyes，andgoodpromisetothepalate，wasmarredandbaffledbythewindandcuttingofthenight-frosts。Theopeningconeswerestruckwithbrown，inbetweenthebuttonbuds，andonthescapesthatshieldedthem；whilethefootpartofthecoverhunglikerags，peeledback，andquivering。

Andtherethelittlestalkofeach，whichmighthavebeenapear，Godwilling，hadaringarounditsbase，andsoughtachancetodropanddie。Theotherswhichhadnotopenedcomb，butonlypreparedtodoit，werealittlebetteroff，butstillverybrownandunkid，andshrivellingindoubtofhealth，andneitherpeartnorlusty。

NowthisIhavenottoldbecauseIknowthewaytodoit，forthatIdonot，neitheryethaveseenamanwhodidknow。Itiswonderfulhowwelookatthings，andneverthinktonoticethem；andIamasbadasanybody，unlessthethingtobeobservedisadog，orahorse，oramaiden。AndthelastofthosethreeIlookat，somehow，withoutknowingthatItakenotice，andgreatlyafraidtodoit，onlyIknewafterwards(whenthetimeoflifewasinme)，notindeed，whatthemaidenwaslike，buthowshedifferedfromothers。

YetIhavespokenaboutthespring，andthefailureoffairpromise，becauseItookittomyheartastokenofwhatwouldcometomeinthebuddingofmyyearsandhope。Andeventhen，beingmuchpossessed，andfullofafoolishmelancholy，Ifeltasaddelightatbeingdoomedtoblightandloneliness；notbutthatImanagedstill(whenmotherwasurgentuponme)toeatmyshareofvictuals，andcuffamanforlaziness，andseethataploughsharemadenoleaps，andsleepofanightwithoutdreaming。Andmymotherhalf-believing，inherfondnessandaffection，thatwhattheparishsaidwastrueaboutamaddoghavingbittenme，andyetarguingthatitmustbefalse(becauseGodwouldhavepreventedhim)，mymothergavemelittlerest，whenIwasintheroomwithher。Notthatsheworriedmewithquestions，n