108 THE OPEN AIB. 



much. We have not been through the same circum- 

 stances : our day has been differently spent, and the 

 same words have therefore a varying value. Certain 

 it is, that it is conversation that takes men to the 

 public-house. Had Eoger been a horse he would 

 have hastened to borrow some food, and, having eaten 

 that, would have cast himself at once upon his rude 

 bed. Not being an animal, though his life and work 

 were animal, he went with his friends to talk. Let 

 none unjustly condemn him as a blackguard for that 

 — no, not even though they had seen him at ten 

 o'clock unsteadily walking to his shed, and guiding 

 himself occasionally with his hands to save himself 

 from stumbling. He blundered against the door, and 

 the noise set the swallows on the beams twittering. 

 He reached his bedstead, and sat down and tried to 

 unlace his boots, but could not. He threw himself 

 upon the sacks and fell asleep. Such was one twenty- 

 four hours of harvest-time. 



The next and the next, for weeks, were almost 

 exactly similar; now a little less beer, now a little 

 more ; now tying up, now pitching, now cutting a 

 small field or corner with a fagging-hook. Once now 

 and then there was a great supper at the farm. Once 

 he fell out with another fellow, and they had a fight ; 

 Eoger, however, had had so much ale, and his oppo- 

 nent so much whisky, that their blows were soft and 

 helpless. They both fell — that is, they stumbled, 

 — they were picked up, there was some more beer, 

 and it was settled. One afternoon Eoger became 

 suddenly giddy, and was so ill that he did no more 

 work that day, and very little on the following. It 



