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Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 1849-1924

"The Shuttle"

"
Then still standing in the sunshine, on the weed-grown path, she
continued to talk to him. It revealed itself that she understood a good
deal. As he was to assume heavier responsibilities, he was to receive
higher wages. It was his experience which was to be considered, not his
years. This was a new point of view. The mere propeller of wheel-barrows
and digger of the soil--particularly after having been attacked by
rheumatism--depreciates in value after youth is past. Kedgers knew that
a Mr. Timson, with a regiment of under gardeners, and daily increasing
knowledge of his profession, could continue to direct, though years
rolled by. But to such fortune he had not dared to aspire.
One of the lodges might be put in order for him to live in. He might
have the hothouses to put in order, too; he might have implements,
plants, shrubs, even some of the newer books to consult. Kedgers' brain
reeled.
"You--think I am to be trusted, miss?" he said more than once. "You
think it would be all right? I wasn't even second or third under Mr.
Timson--but--if I say it as shouldn't--I never lost a chance of learning
things. I was just mad about it. T'aint only Liliums--Lord, I know 'em
all, as if they were my own children born an' bred--shrubs, coniferas,
herbaceous borders that bloom in succession.


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