THE FIELD-PLAY. 7 



reasoning, dim and big, passed through his mind in 

 the summer days ? Did he conclude he had a right to 

 take what others only asked or worked for ? 



The sweet scent of the new-mown hay disappeared, 

 the hay became whiter, the ricks rose higher, and were 

 topped and finished. Hourly the year grew drier and 

 sultry, as the time of wheat-harvest approached. Sap 

 of spring had dried away ; dry stalk of high summer 

 remained, browned with heat. Mr. Andrew (in the 

 country the son is always called by his Christian 

 name, with the prefix Master or Mr.) had been sent 

 for to London to fill the promised lucrative berth. 

 The reapers were in the corn Dolly tying up; big 

 Mat slashing at the yellow stalks. Why the man 

 worked so hard no one could imagine, unless it was 

 for pure physical pleasure of using those great muscles. 

 Unless, indeed, a fire, as it were, was burning in his 

 mind, and drove him to labour to smother it, as they 

 smother fires by beating them. Dolly was happier 

 than ever the gayest of the gay. She sang, she 

 laughed, her white, gleaming teeth shone in the sun- 

 shine ; it was as if she had some secret which enabled 

 her to defy the taunts and cruel, shameless words 

 hurled at her, like clods of earth, by the other women. 

 Gay she was, as the brilliant poppies who, having the 

 sun as their own, cared for nothing else. 



Till suddenly, just before the close of harvest, Dolly 

 and Mat were missing from the field. Of course their 

 absence was slanderously connected, but there was no 

 known ground for it Big Mat was found intoxicated 

 at the tavern, from which he never moved for a fort- 

 night, spending in one long drain of drink the lump 



