86 NATURE NEAR LONDON. 



with measured step and without haste, and both 

 horses and human folks are content in themselves. 



As you sit in summer on the beach and gaze afar 

 over the blue waters scarcely flecked with foam, 

 how slowly the distant ship moves along the horizon. 

 It is almost, but not quite, still. You go to lunch and 

 return, and the vessel is still there ; what patience 

 the man at the wheel must have. So, now, resting 

 here on the stile, see the plough yonder, travelling 

 as it were with all sails set. 



Three shapely horses in line draw the share. The 

 traces are taut, the swing-tree like a yard braced 

 square, the helmsman at the tiller bears hard upon 

 the stilts. But does it move ? The leading horse, 

 seen distinct against the sky, lifts a hoof and places 

 it down again, stepping in the last furrow made. 

 But then there is a perceptible pause before the next 

 hoof rises, and yet again a perceptible delay in the 

 pull of the muscles. The stooping ploughman walk- 

 ing in the new furrow, with one foot often on the 

 level and the other in the hollow, sways a little 

 with the lurch of his implement, but barely drifts 

 ahead. 



"While watched they scarcely move ; but now look 

 away for a time and on returning the plough itself 

 and the lower limbs of the ploughman and the horses 

 are out of sight. They have gone over a slope, and 

 are " hull down ; " a few minutes more, and they 

 disappear behind the ridge. Look away again and 

 read or dream, as you would on the beach, and then, 

 see, the head and shoulders of the leading horse are 

 up, and by and by the plough rises, as they come 



