He also heaved a sigh of
satisfaction, as he saw again the green, undulating valley of the
Neshaminy, with its dazzling squares of young wheat, its brown
patches of corn-land, its snowy masses of blooming orchard, and the
huge, fountain like jets of weeping willow, half concealing the
gray stone fronts of the farm-houses. He had been absent from home
only six days, but the time seemed almost as long to him as a three
years' cruise to a New Bedford whaleman. The peaceful seclusion
and pastoral beauty of the scene did not consciously appeal to his
senses; but he quietly noted how much the wheat had grown during
his absence, that the oats were up and looking well, that Friend
Comly's meadow had been ploughed, and Friend Martin had built his
half of the line-fence along the top of the hill-field. If any
smothered delight in the loveliness of the spring-time found
a hiding-place anywhere in the well-ordered chambers of his heart,
it never relaxed or softened the straight, inflexible lines of his
face. As easily could his collarless drab coat and waistcoat have
flushed with a sudden gleam of purple or crimson.
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