I ca n't wait another minute to see the places father has told us of . '' We slipped out of bed and dressed , without arousing Dan , who was still slumbering soundly , his mouth wide open , and his bed-clothes kicked off on the floor . I had hard work to keep Felix from trying to see if he could `` shy '' a marble into that tempting open mouth . I told him it would waken Dan , who would then likely insist on getting up and accompanying us , and it would be so much nicer to go by ourselves for the first time . Everything was very still as we crept downstairs . Out in the kitchen we heard some one , presumably Uncle Alec , lighting the fire ; but the heart of house had not yet begun to beat for the day . We paused a moment in the hall to look at the big `` Grandfather '' clock . It was not going , but it seemed like an old , familiar acquaintance to us , with the gilt balls on its three peaks ; the little dial and pointer which would indicate the changes of the moon , and the very dent in its wooden door which father had made when he was a boy , by kicking it in a fit of naughtiness . Then we opened the front door and stepped out , rapture swelling in our bosoms . There was a rare breeze from the south blowing to meet us ; the shadows of the spruces were long and clear-cut ; the exquisite skies of early morning , blue and wind-winnowed , were over us ; away to the west , beyond the brook field , was a long valley and a hill purple with firs and laced with still leafless beeches and maples . Behind the house was a grove of fir and spruce , a dim , cool place where the winds were fond of purring and where there was always a resinous , woodsy odour . On the further side of it was a thick plantation of slender silver birches and whispering poplars ; and beyond it was Uncle Roger 's house . Right before us , girt about with its trim spruce hedge , was the famous King orchard , the history of which was woven into our earliest recollections . We knew all about it , from father 's descriptions , and in fancy we had roamed in it many a time and oft . It was now nearly sixty years since it had had its beginning , when Grandfather King brought his bride home . Before the wedding he had fenced off the big south meadow that sloped to the sun ; it was the finest , most fertile field on the farm , and the neighbours told young Abraham King that he would raise many a fine crop of wheat in that meadow . Abraham King smiled and , being a man of few words , said nothing ; but in his mind he had a vision of the years to be , and in that vision he saw , not rippling acres of harvest gold , but great , leafy avenues of wide-spreading trees laden with fruit to gladden the eyes of children and grandchildren yet unborn . It was a vision to develop slowly into fulfilment . Grandfather King was in no hurry . He did not set his whole orchard out at once , for he wished it to grow with his life and history , and be bound up with all of good and joy that should come to his household .
So the morning after he had brought his young wife home they went together XXXXX the south meadow and planted their bridal trees .
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