100 NATUEE NEAR LONDON. 



The roof of the Crystal Palace yonder gleams and 

 sparkles this afternoon as if it really were crystal 

 under the bright rays. But it was concealed by 

 mist when the ploughs in the months gone by were 

 guided in these furrows by men, hard of feature and 

 of hand, stooping to their toil. The piercing east 

 wind scattered the dust in clouds, looking at a dis- 

 tance like small rain across the field, when grey-coated 

 men, grey too of beard, followed the red drill to and 

 fro. 



How many times the horses stayed in this sheltered 

 corner while the ploughmen and their lads ate their 

 crusts ! How many times the farmer and the bailiff, 

 with hands behind their backs, considering, walked 

 along the hedge taking counsel of the earth if thej 

 had done right ! How many times hard gold and 

 silver was paid over at the farmer's door for labour 

 while yet the plant was green ; how many considering 

 cups of ale were emptied in planning out the future 

 harvest ! 



Now it is come, and still more labour — look at the 

 reapers yonder — and after that more time and more 

 labour before the sacks go to the market. Hard toil 

 and hard fare : the bread which the reapers have 

 brought with them for their luncheon is hard and dry, 

 the heat has dried it like a chip. In the corner of 

 the field the women have gathered some sticks and 

 lit a fire — the flame is scarce seen in the sunlight, 

 and the sticks seem eaten away as they burn by some 

 invisible power. They are boiling a kettle, and their 

 bread, too, which they will soak in the tea, is dry and 

 chip-like. Aside; on the ground by the hedge, is a 



