24 THE OPEN AIR. 



GOLDEN-BROWN. 



THREE fruit-pickers women were the first people 

 I met near the village (in Kent). They were clad in 

 "rags and jags," and the face of the eldest was in 

 "jags" also. It was torn and scarred by time and 

 weather ; wrinkled, and in a manner twisted like the 

 fantastic turns of a gnarled tree-trunk, hollow and 

 decayed. Through these jags and tearings of weather, 

 wind, and work, the nakedness of the countenance 

 the barren framework was visible ; the cheekbones 

 like knuckles, the chin of brown stoneware, the 

 upper-lip smooth, and without the short groove which 

 should appear between lip and nostrils. Black 

 shadows dwelt in the hollows of the cheeks and 

 temples, and there was a blackness about the eyes. 

 This blackness gathers in the faces of the old who 

 have been much exposed to the sun, the fibres of the 

 skin are scorched and half -charred, like a stick thrust 

 in the fire and withdrawn before the flames seize it. 

 Beside her were two young women, both in the 

 freshness of youth and health. Their faces glowed 

 with a golden-brown, and so great is the effect of 

 colour that their plain features were transfigured. 

 The sunlight under their faces made them beautiful. 

 The summer light had been absorbed by the skin, 



