noon
Winter 's tempestuous course was run , its icy breath apparently had ceased , and darkness closed on its quiet , pallid face . `` March came in like a lamb '' -- an ominous circumstance for the future record of this month of most uncertain weather , according to the traditions of the old weather-prophets . The sun rose clear and warm , the snow sparkled and melted , the bluebirds rejoiced , and their soft notes of mutual congratulation found many echoes among their human neighbors . By noon the air was wonderfully soft and balmy , and Webb brought in a number of sprays from peach-trees cut in different parts of the place , and redeemed his promise to Amy , showing her the fruit germs , either green , or rather of a delicate gold-color , or else blackened by frost . She was astonished to find how perfect the embryo blossom appeared under the microscope . It needed no glass , however , to reveal the blackened heart of the bud , and Webb , having cut through a goodly number , remarked : `` It would now appear as if nature had performed a very important labor for us , for I find about eight out of nine buds killed . It will save us thinning the fruit next summer , for if one-ninth of the buds mature into peaches they will not only bring more money , but will measure more by the bushel . ''