Too Muck of a Good Tking 205 



its plants and animals, and its beck curling 

 under heathery banks on the edge of the moor. 

 He was indeed only a London clerk, released 

 at last from long years of drudgery by a happy 

 stroke of good fortune. 



They had just arrived from London to take 

 possession of their cottage and garden in the 

 country. It was a frosty evening early in 

 March, and the sun was just setting as they 

 went up the garden together ; it lit up the bare 

 boughs of a tree which stood just in front of 

 the cottage. 



"Look here, Bessie," said the Poet; "that is 

 a rowan tree, and it was the sight of that rowan 

 that fixed me. The cottage was snug, the 

 garden was good, but the rowans there arc 

 three of them were irresistible. There were 

 three just outside our garden in Yorkshire, and 

 every August the berries turned orange-red and 

 made a glory before my window. Next August 

 you shall see them, and you'll see nothing quite 

 so good till then." 



Bessie, London born and bred, was glad to 

 get into the house, and make herself snug 



