Chapter 12 ORCHARDS AND A LINE FROM VIRGIL

Orchards! We were walking to New York-through orchards. And we might have gone by train! A country of orchards and gold-dust sunshine falling through the quaint tapestry trees, falling dreamily on heaped-up gold, and the grave backs of little pigs joyously at large in the apple twilight. A drowsy, murmuring spell was on the land, the spell of fable