NATURE NEAR LONDON s^3J 



short white beard. It is much wrinkled with 

 years ; but still has a hale and hearty hue. 



The sheep are only on their way from one part 

 of the farm to another, perhaps half a mile ; but 

 they have already been an hour, and will probably 

 occupy another, in getting there. Some are feed- 

 ing steadily ; some are in a gateway, doing noth- 

 ing, like their pastor ; if they were on the loneliest 

 slope of the Downs, he and they could not be 

 more unconcerned. Carriages go past, and neither 

 the sheep nor the shepherd turn to look. 



Suddenly there comes a hollow booming sound 

 a roar, mellowed and subdued by distance, with 

 a peculiar beat upon the ear, as if a wave struck 

 the nerve and rebounded and struck again in an 

 infinitesimal fraction of time such a sound as 

 can only bellow from the mouth of cannon. An- 

 other and another. The big guns at Woolwich 

 are at work. The shepherd takes no heed 

 neither he nor his sheep. 



His ears must acknowledge the sound, but his 

 mind pays no attention. He knows of nothing 

 but his sheep. You may brush by him along the 

 footpath and it is doubtful if he sees you. But 

 stay and speak about the sheep, and instantly he 

 looks you in the face and answers with interest. 



Round the corner of the straw-rick by the red- 

 roofed barn there comes another man, this time 



