THE PAGEANT OF SUMMER 



even a fern-owl beats by, passing close to 

 the eaves whence the moths issue. On 

 the narrow waggon-track which descends 

 along a coombe and is worn in chalk, the 

 heat pours down by day as if an invisible 

 lens in the atmosphere focussed the sun's 

 rays. Strong woody knapweed endures 

 it, so does toadflax and pale blue scabious, 

 and wild mignonette. The very sun of 

 Spain burns and burns and ripens the 

 wheat on the edge of the coombe, and will 

 only let the spring moisten a yard or two 

 around it; but there a few rushes have 

 sprung, and in the water itself brooklime 

 with blue flowers grows so thickly that 

 nothing but a bird could find space to 

 drink. So down again from this sun of 

 Spain to woody coverts where the wild 

 hops are blocking every avenue, and 

 green-flowered bryony would fain climb 

 to the trees ; where grey-flecked ivy winds 

 spirally about the red rugged bark of 

 pines, where burdocks fight for the foot- 

 path, and teazle-heads look over the low 



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