The Open Air 



overhung them and the men with whom they were 

 drinking; the white pipes, the blue smoke, the flash 

 of a match, the red sign which had so often swung 

 to and fro in the gales now still in the summer eve, 

 the rude seats and blocks, the reaping-hooks bound 

 about the edge with hay, the white dogs creeping 

 from knee to knee, some such touches gave an interest 

 to the scene. But a quarrel had begun; the men 

 swore, but the women did worse. It is impossible to 

 give a hint of the language they used, especially the 

 elder of the three whose hollow face was blackened 

 by time and exposure. The two golden-brown girls 

 were so heavily intoxicated they could but stagger 

 to and fro and mouth and gesticulate, and one held a 

 quart from which, as she moved, she spilled the ale. 



