70 LONDON CHILDREN 



keep the cattle in the meadow from stray- 

 ing into the covert behind, and to guard 

 them from the brook that ran at the edge 

 of the hazels. High nettles hid the lower 

 rails of the fence, growing straight and 

 green, and giving off a heavy odour from 

 their flowers. From afar a cuckoo was 

 calling, but near me the only sounds were 

 the burring of the dusky humble bees at 

 the nettle flowers, and the soft voice of the 

 brook. A great cloud shadow came rushing 

 over the meadow, the wind lost its warmth, 

 and a few drops pattered on the hawthorn. 

 Immediately a blackbird sang on the top- 

 most bough of an oak tree in the wood, 

 and a wren trilled from some hidden bush. 

 Gently the rain fell, plashing on the veined 

 leaves of the hazels; a yellow-green wave 

 of light descended the distant hills and 

 followed the black shadow over cornfield, 

 meadow, and webbed pattern of hop field, 

 washing the red oast-houses with instant 

 colour. The swift sunlight swept down to 



