170 THE OPEN AIH. 



At a turn of the lane there was a great heap of oak 

 " chumps," crooked logs, sawn in lengths, and piled 

 together. They were so crooked, it was difficult to 

 find a seat, till I hit on one larger than the rest. 

 The pile of " chunks " rose halfway up the stem of 

 an oak-tree, and formed a wall of wood at my back ; 

 the oak-houghs reached over and made a pleasant 

 shade. The sun was warm enough to render resting 

 in the open air delicious, the wind cool enough to 

 prevent the heat becoming too great; the pile of 

 timber kept off the draught, so that I could stay and 

 listen to the gentle "hush, rush" of the breeze in the 

 oak above me; "hush" as it came slowly, "rush" 

 as it came fast, and a low undertone as it nearly 

 ceased. So thick were the haws on a bush of thorn 

 opposite, that they tinted the hedge a red colour 

 among the yellowing hawthorn-leaves. To this red 

 hue the blackberries that were not ripe, the thick dry 

 red sorrel stalks, a bright canker on a brier almost as 

 bright as a rose, added their colours. Already the 

 foliage of the bushes had been thinned, and it was 

 possible to see through the upper parts of the boughs. 

 The sunlight, therefore, not only touched their outer 

 surfaces, but passed through and lit up the branches 

 within, and the wild-fruit upon them. Though the 

 sky was clear and blue between the clouds, that is, 

 without mist or haze, the sunbeams were coloured 

 the faintest yellow, as they always are on a ripe 

 autumn day. This yellow shone back from grass 

 and leaves, from bough and tree-trunk, and seemed 

 to stain the ground. It is very pleasant to the eyes, 

 a soft, delicate light, that gives another beauty to the 



