228 LETTERS TO MARCO xxxm 



far to seek. Agriculture has almost ceased to 

 pay its cost ; our lanes swarm with tramps 

 and our towns with the unemployed. 



One little crumb of comfort the drought 

 affords, which is, that the dry, dusty state of 

 the soil facilitates the extraction, by the rake- 

 harrow, of the baneful couch grass. On 

 every side you see around here heaps of 

 this wiry - looking weed scratched up and 

 burning in small bonfires. 



You, dear Marco, unlike the son of Zippor, 

 summoned me, in your last letter, to bless; 

 and I, unlike the son of Beor, have in response 

 given nothing but dismal utterances. You 

 ask for a more cheerful letter, and when the 

 long-wished-for rain has come I will gladly 

 accede to your desire. My flowers and 

 garden shall be my theme, and I promise to 

 banish entirely the depression and gloom 

 which has latterly pervaded my letters. 



G. D. L. 



