OF RICHARD JEFFERIES 



the world increases, and the green wheat 

 of the human heart is not to be trampled 

 out— ' Field and Hedgerow': Walks in 

 the Wheatfields. 



THE gallows at the cross-roads 

 is gone, but the workhouse 

 stands, and custom, that 

 tyrant of the mind, has inured us (to use 

 an old word) to its existence in our 

 midst. Apart from any physical suffer- 

 ing, let us only consider the slow agony 

 of the poor old reaper when he feels his 

 lusty arm wither, and of the grey bowed 

 wife as they feel themselves drifting like 

 a ship ashore to that stony waiting-room. 

 For it is a waiting-room till the grave 

 receives them. Economically, too, the 

 workhouse is a heavy loss and drag. 

 Could we, then, see the tithe barn filled 

 again with golden wheat for this purpose 

 of help to humanity, it might be a great 

 and wonderful good. With this truth 



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