136 THE RING OF NATURE 



patches of bird's-foot trefoil that gladden the 

 uneconomic eye with their clear yellow and flakes 

 of dragon's blood. He is not deceived by the 

 ranks of tall sorrel or the waving yellow plumes 

 of an occasional melilot, or the powdering of 

 moon daisies, or even the waving heads of timothy 

 and sweet vernal. He says that the grass has no 

 bottom, nor ever will have if we do not get the 

 growing weather that is our right from May to 

 July. Sun and rain together make growing 

 weather. We have had weeks of all sun and now 

 we are having all rain. 



When for a few hours the rain holds off and the 

 sun comes out, a nice problem presents itself : 

 whether to use the sun for the growing of grass or 

 for the making of hay, and as the rare days of 

 sunshine have less and less infected us with hope, 

 we have more and more given the benefit to the 

 grass. If the weather should break again, it 

 would not spoil the grass, while it would sadly 

 interfere with haymaking. The doubt has saved 

 us again and again, for not even the finest day, 

 accompanied by a change in the moon and all 

 other indications of a permanent change, has been 

 followed by enough fine weather for the making 

 of even a scanty crop of hay. 



But at last the day of the hill field has come. 

 The chatter of the mowing machine has silenced 

 the whitethroat's scolding, has excited the upright 

 curiosity of distant rabbits, and sent near ones 

 scampering. Here come the strong, silent horses 



