218 THE CHANGE 



the edge of the wood and the fences pro- 

 tecting the small back-gardens. Old broken 

 pails and bundles of bean-sticks littered 

 the allotments; sparrows chirped as they 

 searched the backyards for crumbs. 



" This was a field for poppies/* he 

 said softly. " Before the stems of wheat 

 stiffened, while the awns and flags whispered 

 softly in the air, the poppies were among 

 the green corn like blood-drops. What 

 untamed colours there were amongst the 

 civilised wheat! The yellow charlock grew 

 every year; we hated the wild mustard, 

 but still it grew. Everywhere the alien 

 creeps in, and hangs fiercely to life. Great 

 big thistles held their spears and purple 

 plumes higher than the grain with the 

 yellow ragwort in August. And the moon 

 daisies, sought by the moths at night. But 

 you think that I am talking foolishly. 

 Perhaps wild flowers are nothing to you." 



He looked at me quickly, and in his face 

 was youth. Yet he had said that he 



