After the Days Labour 115 



Between eleven and twelve the waggons cease to 

 arrive it is luncheon time : the exact time for luncheon 

 varies a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes, or more, 

 according to the state of the work. Messengers come home 

 for cans of beer, and carry out also to the field wooden 

 f bottles ' small barrels holding a gallon or two. After 

 a short interval work goes on again till nearly four o'clock^ 

 when it is dinner-time. One or two labourers, deputed by 

 the rest and having leave and licence so to do, enter the 

 farmhouse garden and pull up bundles of onions, lettuces, 

 or radishes sown over wide areas on purpose and carry 

 them out to the cart-house, or wherever the men may be. 

 If far from home, the women often boil a kettle for tea 

 under the hedge, collecting dead sticks fallen from the 

 trees. At six o'clock work is over: the women are allowed 

 to leave half an hour or so previously, that they may pre- 

 pare their husbands' suppers. 



As the sunset approaches the long broad dusty road 

 loses its white glare, and yonder by the hamlet a bright 

 glistening banner reflects the level rays of the sun with 

 dazzling sheen ; it is the gilding on the swinging wayside 

 sign transformed for the moment from a wooden board 

 rudely ornamented with a gilt sun, all rays and rotund 

 cheeks, into a veritable oriflamme. 



There the men will assemble by-and-by, on the forms 

 about the trestle table, and share each other's quarts in 

 the fellowship of labour. Or perhaps the work may be 

 pressing, and the waggons are loaded till the white owl 

 noiselessly flits along the hedgerow, and the round moon 

 rises over the hills. Then those who have stayed to assist 

 find their supper waiting for them in the brewhouse, and 

 do it ample justice. 



Once during the morning, while busy in the hay-field, 



i2 



