A HARVESTING
'I perceive,' he said pleasantly, 'that we have something in common. I, an old man, dream dreams; you, a young one, see visions. Your lot is the happier. And now—' his hand had been resting all this time on a wicket-gate — 'you are hot, it is easily seen;—the day is advanced, Virgo is the Zodiacal sign. Perhaps I may offer you some poor refreshment, if your engagements will permit?'
My only engagement that afternoon was an arithmetic lesson, and I had not intended to keep it in any case; so I passed in, while he held the gate open politely, murmuring, 'Venit Hesperus, ite capellæ: come, little kid!' and then apologising abjectly for a familiarity which (he said) was less his than the Roman poet's. A straight flagged walk led up to the cool-looking old house, and my host, lingering in his progress at this rose-tree and that, forgot all about me at least twice, waking up and apologising humbly after each lapse. During these intervals I put two and two together, and identified him as the Rector: a bachelor, eccentric, learned exceedingly, round whom the
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