Instead of frozen game and winter vegetables, were the products of summer gardens, and fruits, and berries.

The color scheme was dazzling with great heaps of tomatoes, and long, emerald ears of corn, and baskets of apples, and gold crooks of summer squashes, and speckled pods of beans.
"Suppose," said Robert, as they walked on, "that all the market-men who had artistic tastes had art educations and set up studios and painted pictures, who would keep the markets ?" He spoke gayly.

His manner that night was younger and merrier than Ellen had ever seen it.

She was naturally rather grave herself.

What she had seen of life had rather disposed her to a hush of respect than to hilarity, but somehow his mood began to infect her.
"I don't know," she answered, laughing, "I suppose somebody would keep the markets." "Yes, but they would not be as good markets.