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had that day shown me; nor was that problem solved to my
satisfaction ere I fell sweetly asleep.
Well has Solomon said- 'Better is a dinner of herbs where love
is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith.'
I would not now have exchanged Lowood with all its privations for
Gateshead and its daily luxuries.
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CHAPTER IX
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BUT the privations, or rather the hardships, of Lowood lessened.
Spring drew on: she was indeed already come; the frosts of winter
had ceased; its snows were melted, its cutting winds ameliorated. My
wretched feet, flayed and swollen to lameness by the sharp air of
January, began to heal and subside under the gentler breathings of
April; the nights and mornings no longer by their Canadian temperature
froze the very blood in our veins; we could now endure the play-hour
passed in the garden: sometimes on a sunny day it began even to be
pleasant and genial, and a greenness grew over those brown beds,
which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed
them at night, and left each morning brighter traces of her steps.
Flowers peeped out amongst the leaves; snowdrops, crocuses, purple
auriculas, and golden-eyed pansies. On Thursday afternoons
(half-holidays) we now took walks, and found still sweeter flowers
opening by the wayside, under the hedges.
I discovered, too, that a great pleasure, an enjoyment which the
horizon only bounded, lay all outside the high and spike-guarded walls
of our garden: this pleasure consisted in prospect of noble summits
girdling a great hill-hollow, rich in verdure and shadow; in a
bright beck, full of dark stones and sparkling eddies. How different
had this scene looked when I viewed it laid out beneath the iron sky
of winter, stiffened in frost, shrouded with snow!- when mists as
chill as death wandered to the impulse of east winds along those
purple peaks, and rolled down 'ing' and holm till they blended with
the frozen fog of the beck! That beck itself was then a torrent,
turbid and curbless: it tore asunder the wood, and sent a raving sound
through the air, often thickened with wild rain or whirling sleet; and
for the forest on its banks, that showed only ranks of skeletons.
April advanced to May: a bright, serene May it was; days of blue
sky, placid sunshine, and soft western or southern gales filled up its
duration. And now vegetation matured with vigour; Lowood shook loose
its tresses; it became all green, all flowery; its great elm, ash, and
oak skeletons were restored to majestic life; woodland plants sprang
up profusely in its recesses; unnumbered varieties of moss filled
its hollows, and it made a strange ground-sunshine out of the wealth
of its wild primrose plants: I have seen their pale gold gleam in