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XXIII. Eventide—A Second Declaration

           Nowthenagainthenextbar;I’llhelpyetoflourishuptheshrillnoteswhereyerwindisratherwheezy:

           "Ohthewi′-il-lo′-owtree′will′twist′,

           Andthewil′-low′tre′-eewi′-illtwine′."

           Butthesingercouldnotbesetgoingagain.BobCogganwassenthomeforhisillmanners,andtranquilitywasrestoredbyJacobSmallbury,whovolunteeredaballadasinclusiveandinterminableasthatwithwhichtheworthytoperoldSilenusamusedonasimilaroccasiontheswainsChromisandMnasylus,andotherjollydogsofhisday.

           Itwasstillthebeamingtimeofevening,thoughnightwasstealthilymakingitselfvisiblelowdownupontheground,thewesternlinesoflightrakingtheearthwithoutalightinguponittoanyextent,orilluminatingthedeadlevelsatall.Thesunhadcreptroundthetreeasalasteffortbeforedeath,andthenbegantosink,theshearers’lowerpartsbecomingsteepedinembrowningtwilight,whilsttheirheadsandshoulderswerestillenjoyingday,touchedwithayellowofself-sustainedbrilliancythatseemedinherentratherthanacquired.

           Thesunwentdowninanochreousmist;buttheysat,andtalkedon,andgrewasmerryasthegodsinHomer’sheaven.Bathshebastillremainedenthronedinsidethewindow,andoccupiedherselfinknitting,fromwhichshesometimeslookeduptoviewthefadingsceneoutside.Theslowtwilightexpandedandenvelopedthemcompletelybeforethesignsofmovingwereshown.

           GabrielsuddenlymissedFarmerBoldwoodfromhisplaceatthebottomofthetable.

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