lt to cut.

Her dress swept over the bennets and shook the thick-stemmed
butter-cups--branched like the golden candlestick, and with flowers of
golden flame. For the burnished petals reflect the sun, and throw light
back into the air.

Amadis began to drag behind--he could not walk much farther; they sat
down together on the trunk of an oak that had been felled by a gateway
close to the horse-chestnut trees Iden had planted. Even with his back
leaning against a limb of the oak, Amadis had to partly support himself
with his hands.

What was the use of such a man?--He had nothing but his absurdly
romantic name from Don Quixote to recommend him.

That was the very thought that gnawed at poor Amadis's heart as he sat
by her side. What use to care for him?

Iden's flag-basket of tools lay by the gate, it was a new gate, and he
had been fitting it before he went in to lunch. His basket was of flag
because the substance of the flag is soft, and the tools, chisels, and
so on, laid pleasant in it; he must have everything right. The new gate
was of solid oak, no "sappy" stuff, real heart of oak, well-seasoned,
without a split, fine, close-grained timber, cut on the farm, and kept
till it was thoroughly fit, genuine English oak. If you would only
consider Iden's gate you might see there the man.

This gateway was only between two meadows, and the ordinary farmer, when
the old gate wore out, would have stopped it with a couple of rails, or
a hurdle or two, something very, very cheap and rough; at most a gate
knocked up by the village carpenter of ash and willow, at the lowest
possible charge.

Iden could not find a carpenter good enough to make _his_ gate in the
hamlet; he sent for one ten miles, and paid him full carpenter's wages.
He was not satisfied then, he watched the man at his work to see that
the least little detail was done correctly, till the fellow would have
left the job, had he not been made pliable by the Goliath ale. So he
just stretched the job out as long as he could, and talked and talked
with Iden, and stroked him the right way, and drank the ale, and "played
it upon me and on William, That day in a way I despise." Till what with
the planing, and shaving, and smoothing, and morticing, and ale, and
time, it footed up a pretty bill, enough for three commonplace gates,
not of the Iden style.

Why, Iden had put away those pieces of timber years before for this very
purpose, and had watched the sawyers saw