From the market-place they saw a pathway that wound up the hill.
Along it grew young cherry-trees which formed vaulted arches with
their white tops. The arch was light and floating, and the branches
absurdly slender, altogether weak, delicate and youthful.

The cherry-tree path attracted the eyes of the men against their
will. What an unpractical hole it was, where people planted cherry
trees, where any one could take the cherries. The three Petters had
considered it before as a nest of iniquity, full of cruelty and
tyranny. Now they began to laugh at it, and even to despise it a
little.

But the fourth one of the company did not laugh. His longing for
revenge was seething ever more fiercely, for he felt that this was
the town where he ought to have lived and labored. It was his lost
paradise. And without paying any attention to the others he walked
quickly up the street.

They followed him; and when they saw that there was only one
street, and when they saw only flowers, and more flowers the whole
length of it, their scorn and their good humor increased. It was
perhaps the first time in their lives that they had ever noticed
flowers, but here they could not help it, for the clusters of lilac
blossoms brushed off their caps and the petals of cherry-blossoms
rained down over them.

"What kind of people do you suppose live in this town?" said
Long-Petter, musingly.