To do as he would wish was all her living.
She welcomed Gervase for the news he brought.
XXIX
Black-hearts and white-hearts, bubbled with the
sun, Hid in their leaves and knocked against each other.
Eunice was standing, panting with her run Up to the tool-house
just to get another
Basket. All those which she had brought were filled, And
still Gervase pelted her from above.
The buckles of his shoes flashed higher and higher Until
his shoulders strove
Quite through the top. Eunice, your spirits filled
This tree. White-hearts! He shook, and cherries
spilled
And spat out from the leaves like falling fire.
XXX
The wide, sun-winged June morning spread itself Over
the quiet garden. And they packed
Full twenty baskets with the fruit. My shelf Of
cordials will be stored with what it lacked.
In future, none of us will drink strong ale, But cherry-brandy. Vastly
good, I vow,
And Gervase gave the tree another shake. The
cherries seemed to flow
Out of the sky in cloudfuls, like blown hail.
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