200 THE CLERK OF THE WOODS 



manner. As for whistling, there was hardly 

 a boy in the street but was studying that 

 accomplishment, though none of them could 

 yet come within a mile of Jason Andcut. 

 His was indeed " a soft and solemn-breathing 

 sound," as unlike the ear-piercing notes 

 which most pairs of puckered lips gave forth 

 as the luscious fruit of his own early pear 

 tree (" Andcut's pears," we always called 

 them) was unlike certain harsh and crabbed 

 things that looked like pears, to be sure, but 

 tied your mouth up in a hard knot if, in 

 a fit of boyish hunger, you were ever rash 

 enough to set your teeth in one. The good 

 man ! I should love to hear his whistle 

 now ; I believe I should like it almost as 

 well as Mr. Longy's oboe ; but the last of 

 those magical improvisations was long ago 

 finished. I have heard good whistling since 

 (not often, but I have heard it, both pro- 

 fessional and amateur), but nothing to match 

 that soliloquistic pianissimo, which I stole 

 close to the man's elbow to get my fill of. 

 Was the prosperity of the music partly in 

 the boyish ear that heard it? 



That corner-grocery gathering was one 



