He knew it well , although it was fifteen years since he had seen it . He had been born and brought up in Amberley ; he had left it at the age of twenty-five to make his fortune . But Amberley was Amberley still . Jedediah found it hard to believe that it or himself was fifteen years older . `` There 's the Stanton place , '' he said . `` Charlie has painted the house yellow -- it used to be white ; and Bob Hollman has cut the trees down behind the blacksmith forge . Bob never had any poetry in his soul -- no romance , as you might say . He was what you might call a plodder -- you might call him that . Get up , my nag , get up . There 's the old Harkness place -- seems to be spruced up considerable . Folks used to say if ye wanted to see how the world looked the morning after the flood just go into George Harkness 's barn-yard on a rainy day . The pond and the old hills ai n't changed any . Get up , my nag , get up . There 's the Adams homestead . Do I really behold it again ? '' Jedediah thought the moment deliciously romantic . He revelled in it and , to match his exhilarated mood , he touched the pony with his whip and went clinking and glittering down the hill under the poplars at a dashing rate . He had not intended to offer his wares in Amberley that day . He meant to break the ice in Occidental , the village beyond . But he could not pass the Adams place .
When he came to the open gate he turned in under the willows and drove down the wide , shady lane , girt on both sides with a trim white paling smothered in lavish sweetbriar bushes that were gay XXXXX bloom .
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