94 THE OPEN AIM. 



ONE OF THE NEW VOTERS. 



I. 



IF any one were to get up about half-past five on 

 an August morning and look out of an eastern 

 window in the country, he would see the distant trees 

 almost hidden by a white mist. The tops of the 

 larger groups of elms would appear above it, and 

 by these the line of the hedgerows could be traced. 

 Tier after tier they stretch along, rising by degrees 

 on a gentle slope, the space between filled with haze. 

 Whether there were corn-fields or meadows under this 

 white cloud he could not tell a cloud that might 

 have come down from the sky, leaving it a clear 

 azure. This morning haze means intense heat in 

 the day. It is hot already, very hot, for the sun 

 is shining with all his strength, and if you wish 

 the house to be cool it is time to set the sunblinds. 



Eoger, the reaper, had slept all night in the cow- 

 house, lying on the raised platform of narrow planks 

 put up for cleanliness when the cattle were there. 

 He had set the wooden window wide open and left 

 the door ajar when he came stumbling in overnight, 

 long after the late swallows had settled in their nests 

 on the beams, and the bats had wearied of moth 

 catching. One of the swallows twittered a little, 



