"It will live," said Webb, quietly, as he turned away; "it will probably
live out its natural life."
Amy, in her deep sympathy, looked after him curiously. There was
something in his tone and manner which suggested a meaning beyond his
words. Not infrequently he had puzzled her of late, and this added to her
interest in him. She understood Burt thoroughly.
Good old Mr. Clifford saw in the shattered tree only reasons for profound
thankfulness, and words of Christian gratitude rose to his lips.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
THE TWO LOVERS
The July sun speedily drank up the superabundant moisture, and the farm
operations went on with expedition. The corn grew green and strong, and
its leaves stretched up to Abram's shoulder as he ran the cultivator
through it for the last time. The moist sultriness of the Fourth finished
the ox-heart cherries. They decayed at once, to Alf's great regret. "That
is the trouble with certain varieties of cherries," Webb remarked. "One
shower will often spoil the entire crop even before it is ripe." But it
so happened that there were several trees of native or ungrafted fruit on
the place, and these supplied the children and the birds for many days
thereafter. The robins never ceased gorging themselves. Indeed, they were
degenerating into shameless _gourmands_, and losing the grace of
song, as were also the bobolinks in the meadows.
Already there was a perceptible decline in the morning and evening
minstrelsy of all the birds, and, with the exception of calls and
twitterings, they grew more and more silent through the midday heat.
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