Redbud, too, recollected the nice cherries they had eaten from the
trees--as nice as the oxhearts near the house--in the Spring; and
Fanny did too, and told some very amusing stories of beaux being
compelled to climb and throw down boughs laden with their red bunches.
In this pleasant way they strolled along the brook which stole by
in sun and shadow, over mossy rocks, and under bulrushes, where the
minnows haunted--which brook, tradition (and the maps) call to-day by
the name of one member of that party; and so, passing over the slip of
meadow, where Verty declared the hares were accustomed to gambol by
moonlight, once more came again toward the locust-grove of "dear old
Apple Orchard,"--(Fanny's phrase,)--and entered in again, and threw
down their treasures of bright flowers and bird's-nests--for they had
taken some old ones from the trees--and laughed, sang, and were happy.
"Why! what a day!" cried Ralph; "if we only had a kite now!"
"A kite!" cried Fanny.
"Yes."
"An elegant college gentleman--"
"Oh--suspend the college gentleman, if I may use the paraphrase," said
Mr.
Pages:
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378