remembered  bird-notes,  this  sky  with  its  fitful
brightness,  these  furrowed  and  grassy  fields,  each
with  a  sort  of  personality  given  to  it  by  the  capri-
cious hedgerows — such  things  as  these  are  the
mother  tongue  of  our  imagination,  the  language
that  is  laden  with  all  the  subtle  inextricable  associa-
tions the  fleeting  hours  of  our  childhood  left  behind
them.  Our  delight  in  the  sunshiae  on  the  deep-
bladed  grass  to-day,  might  be  no  more  than  the
faint  perception  of  wearied  souls,  if  it  were  not  for
the  sunshine  and  the  grass  in  the  far-off  years,  which
still  live  in  us,  and  transform  our  perception  into
love.
CHAPTER   VI.
THE  AUNTS  AND  UNCLES  AEE  COMING.
It  was  Easter  week,  and  Mrs  Tulliver's  cheese-cakes
were  more  exquisitely  light  than  usual;  "a  pufif
0*  wind  'ud  make  *em  blow  about  like  feathers,"
Kezia  the  house-maid  said, — feeling  proud  to  live
under  a  mistress  who  could  make  such  pastry ;  so
that  no  season  or  circumstances  could  have  been
more  propitious  for  a  family  party,  even  if  it  had
not  been  advisable  to  consult  sister  Glegg  and  sister
Pullet  about  Tom's  going  to  school

"Fd  as  lief  not  invite  sister  Deane  this  time,"
said  Mrs  Tulliver,  "  for  she's  as  jealous  and  having
as  can  be,  and  's  allays  trying  to  make  the  worst  o'
my  poor  children  to  their  aunts  and  uncles."

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Mr  Tulliver,  "  ask  her  to  come.
I  never  hardly  get  a  bit  o'  talk  with  Deane  now :
we  haven't  had  him  this  six  months.     What's  it


72  THE  MILL  ON   THE   FLOSS.
