"This is a very unpleasant position, sir," said he, when I reached
the tree. "I simply came into your yard, on a matter of business,
and finding that raging beast attacking a person in a tree, I had
barely time to get up into this tree myself, before he dashed at
me. Luckily I was out of his reach; but I very much fear I have
lost some of my property."
"No, he hasn't," said Pomona. "It was a big book he dropped. I
picked it up and took it into the house. It's full of pictures of
pears and peaches and flowers. I've been lookin' at it. That's
how I knew what he was. And there was no call for his gittin' up a
tree. Lord Edward never would have gone after him if he hadn't run
as if he had guilt on his soul."
"I suppose, then," said I, addressing the individual in the cherry-
tree, "that you came here to sell me some trees."
"Yes, sir," said he quickly, "trees, shrubs, vines, evergreens,--
everything suitable for a gentleman's country villa. I can sell
you something quite remarkable, sir, in the way of cherry-trees,--
French ones, just imported; bear fruit three times the size of
anything that could be produced on a tree like this. And pears--
fruit of the finest flavor and enormous size--"
"Yes," said Pomona. "I seen them in the book. But they must grow
on a ground-vine. No tree couldn't hold such pears as them."
Here Euphemia reproved Pomona's forwardness, and I invited the
tree-agent to get down out of the tree.
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