XXIXThe only wonder, Ase thought, was that such a year had been so long in coming. Catastrophe after catastrophe struck the crops. A man working with the land might expect disaster at any time. He had escaped it better than many of his neighbors. His instinct for weather changes, strengthened by the lore of Mink Fisher the Indian, had often led him to plant a crop earlier than was customary, or when other landsmen said it was too late, and the seasons had been harmonious with him and proved him right. Now there seemed no benignity left in nature.
The spring came early. The apple orchard was a foam of blossom. The wind veered one April day, the sun withdrew, a norther roared down with sleet and bitter cold, and when it passed, the orchard was a stricken thing, bereft of bloom and hope of h
