That ginseng was worth many thousands and he had laboured over it, fighting worms and parasites, covering and uncovering it with the changing seasons, a siege of loving labour.
Sometimes a few hours of misgiving tortured him, but as a rule he was cheerful and happy in his preparations.

Without intending to do it he was gradually furnishing the cabin.

Every few days saw a new piece finished in the workshop.

Each trip to Onabasha ended in the purchase of some article he could see would harmonize with his colour plans for one of the rooms.

He had filled the flower boxes for the veranda with delicate plants that were growing luxuriantly.
Then he designed and began setting a wild-flower garden outside her door and started climbing vines over the logs and porches, but whatever he planted he found in the woods or took from beds he cultivated.