2o Next to the Ground 



he held out his hand. They had seemed that 

 morning to know what was before them, stand- 

 ing like lambs to be hitched, without snatch- 

 ing at the green stuff so temptingly under their 

 feet. No wonder he patted them, called them 

 pretty girls, and stuck little leafy bushes in 

 their head-stalls to frighten the flies from their 

 ears. 



He whistled. Wicked Sal laid one ear back, 

 one forward, shook herself the least bit, and 

 flung her weight against the collar. Blarney 

 and Beauty stepped with her as though the 

 three were one. There was no lurching, nor 

 lagging, nor darting. The share surged for- 

 ward, with foam-light earth creaming away 

 from it almost as water creams from the prow 

 of a boat. It was set to cut a furrow-slice 

 nine inches broad, and five inches thick. Thus 

 if the slices kept shape, they would fall slant- 

 wise, one on the other, and cover the field's 

 face with six inches of light earth. 



Ploughing began just where the pasture ad- 

 joined the mown land. Down the tramped 

 side the slices did keep shape. Over in the 

 aftermath, the earth was so mellow they melted 

 as they fell, leaving bare a netted intricacy of 

 big yellow clover-roots. Joe knew the tramped 

 land would be mellow enough by seedtime. 

 It was only firm, not packed and caked as the 

 path was. The path ran through the mowed 



