THE FIELD-PLAY. 25 



the lowest slope of hills, hills covered afar with woods. 

 Meads at hand, corn fields farther away, then green 

 slopes over which broad cloud-shadows glided slowly. 

 The larks sang in spring, in summer the wheat was 

 golden, in autumn the distant woods were brown and 

 red and yellow. Had you spent your youth in those 

 fields, had your little drama of life been enacted in 

 them, do you not think that you would like at least 

 to gaze out at them from the windows of your prison ? 

 It was observed that the miserable wretches were 

 always looking out of the windows in this direction. 

 The windows on that sido were accordingly built up 

 and brir.ked in that they might not look out. 



