136 FIELD AND HEDGEROW. 



The gallows at the cross-roads is gone, but the work- 

 house stands, and custom, cruel custom, that tyrant of 

 the mind, has inured us (to use an old word) to its exist- 

 ence in our midst. Apart from any physical suffering, 

 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. Economic- 

 ally, 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 tenth 

 to feed the starving and clothe the naked ; with the tenth 

 to give the little children a midday meal at the school — 

 that would be natural and true. In the course of time, 

 as the land laws lessen their grip, and the people take 

 possession of the earth on which they stand, it is more 

 than probable that something of this kind will really 

 come about. It would be only simple justice after so 

 many centuries — it takes so many hundreds of years to 

 get even that. 



1 Workhouse, indeed ! ' I have heard the same 

 ancient well-to-do greybeards ejaculate, ' workhouse ! 

 they ought to be very thankful they have got such a 

 place to go to ! ' 



All the village has been to the wheat-field with 

 reaping-hooks, and waggons and horses, the whole 

 strength of man has been employed upon it ; little 

 brown hands and large brown hands, blue eyes and dark 

 eyes have been there searching about ; all the intelligence 

 of human beings has been brought to bear, and yet the 

 stubble is not empty. Down there come again the ever- 

 increasing clouds of sparrows ; as a cloud rises here 



