There was the deepest peace in that orchard. It was surrounded by a triple
enclosure; the wire fence, then the hedge of thorny locusts, then the
mulberry hedge which kept out the hot winds of summer and held fast to the
protecting snows of winter. The hedges were so tall that we could see
nothing but the blue sky above them, neither the barn roof nor the
windmill. The afternoon sun poured down on us through the drying grape
leaves. The orchard seemed full of sun, like a cup, and we could smell the
ripe apples on the trees. The crabs hung on the branches as thick as beads
on a string, purple-red, with a thin silvery glaze over them. Some hens
and ducks had crept through the hedge and were pecking at the fallen
apples. The drakes were handsome fellows, with pinkish grey bodies, their
heads and necks covered with iridescent green feathers which grew close and
full, changing to blue like a peacock's neck. Antonia said they always
reminded her of soldiers--some uniform she had seen in the old country,
when she was a child.
`Are there any quail left now?' I asked. I reminded her how she used to
go hunting with me the last summer before we moved to town. `You weren't a
bad shot, Tony. Do you remember how you used to want to run away and go
for ducks with Charley Harling and me?'
`I know, but I'm afraid to look at a gun now.
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