noon
He had no love for the farm , which had belonged to his father ; an old flute , on which his father used to play , was more of a treasure to him . Often in summer , as day faded , and the dews of night descended ; when the clear lights in the valley were set twinkling one by one , leaving the uplands to the winds and stars , Aaron Bade , perched upon his pasture bars , piped to the faintly glowing sky his awkward thoughts and clumsy feelings . In the morning he took leave of his wife , and with his hoe slung over his shoulder , made his way down to the cornfield . There , seated upon a stone , he saw himself in Attleboro again , pictured to himself the countryside beyond , and before noon , was half way round the world , leaving friends behind him in every land . Then , with a sigh , he would go in among the corn with his weeder , only to stand dreaming at every rustle of wind , seeing , in his mind , the smoke of distant cities , hearing , in fancy , the booming of foreign seas . His wife was no longer a young woman . As a girl she had also had hopes for herself .