What I'm curious to know--and I might as well tell you
frankly--is how such a man as you are reputed to be could grow
such an extraordinary hedge. You must have been at it a very long
time."
I was surprised at the effect of my words. The old man turned
partly aside and looked for a moment along the proud and
flaunting embattlements of the green marvel before us. Then he
said in a moderate voice:
"It's a putty good hedge, a putty good hedge."
"I've got him," I thought exultantly, "I've got him!"
"How long ago did you start it?" I pursued my advantage eagerly.
"Thirty-two years come spring," said he.
"Thirty-two years!" I repeated; "you've been at it a long time."
With that I plied him with questions in the liveliest manner, and
in five minutes I had the gruff old fellow stumping along at my
side and pointing out the various notable-features of his
wonderful creation. His suppressed excitement was quite wonderful
to see. He would point his hickory stick with a poking motion,
and, when he looked up, instead of throwing back his big, rough
head, he bent at the hips, thus imparting an impression of
astonishing solidity.
"It took me all o' ten years to get that bell right," he said,
and, "Take a look at that arch: now what is your opinion o'
that?"
Once, in the midst of our conversation, he checked himself
abruptly and looked around at me with a sudden dark expression of
suspicion.
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