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The Trees of Pride | Gilbert K. Chesterton | |
I. The Tale Of The Peacock Trees |
Page 10 of 11 |
"What DID you mean by all that about walking trees?" she asked. "Don't tell me you really believe in a magic tree that eats birds!" "I should probably surprise you," said Treherne gravely, "more by what I don't believe than by what I do." Then, after a pause, lie made a general gesture toward the house and garden. "I'm afraid I don't believe in all this; for instance, in Elizabethan houses and Elizabethan families and the way estates have been improved, and the rest of it. Look at our friend the woodcutter now." And he pointed to the man with the quaint black beard, who was still plying his ax upon the timber below. "That man's family goes back for ages, and it was far richer and freer in what you call the Dark Ages than it is now. Wait till the Cornish peasant writes a history of Cornwall." "But what in the world," she demanded, "has this to do with whether you believe in a tree eating birds?" "Why should I confess what I believe in?" he said, a muffled drum of mutiny in his voice. "The gentry came here and took our land and took our labor and took our customs. And now, after exploitation, a viler thing, education! They must take our dreams!" "Well, this dream was rather a nightmare, wasn't it?" asked Barbara, smiling; and the next moment grew quite grave, saying almost anxiously: "But here's Doctor Brown back again. Why, he looks quite upset." |
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The Trees of Pride Gilbert K. Chesterton |
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