Now I Am in the Garden …

Now I am in the garden at the back, a very preserve of butterflies, as I remember it, with a high fence and a gate and paddock; where the fruit clusters on the trees, riper and richer than fruits have ever been since, in any other garden, and where my mother gathers some in a basket, while I stand by, bolting furtive gooseberries, and trying to look unmoved.

—Charles Dickens, in David Copperfield (pub. 1849)

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