UNDER THE ACORNS. 171 



atmosphere. Some roan cows were wandering down 

 the lane, feeding on the herbage at the side ; their 

 colour, too, was lit up by the peculiar light, which gave 

 a singular softness to the large shadows of the trees 

 upon the sward. In a meadow by the wood the oaks 

 cast broad shadows on the short velvety sward, not so 

 sharp and definite as those of summer, but tender, 

 and, as it were, drawn with a loving hand. They 

 were large shadows, though it was mid-day — a sign 

 that the sun was no longer at his greatest height, 

 but declining. In July, they would scarcely have 

 extended beyond the rim of the boughs; the rays 

 would have dropped perpendicularly, now they 

 slanted. Pleasant as it was, there was regret in the 

 thought that the summer was going fast. Another 

 sign — the grass by the gateway, an acre of it, was 

 brightly yellow with hawkweeds, and under these 

 were the last faded brown heads of meadow clover; 

 the brown, the bright yellow disks, the green grass, 

 the tinted sunlight falling upon it, caused a wavering 

 colour that fleeted before the glance. 



AU things brown, and yellow, and red, are brought 

 out by the autumn sun; the brown furrows freshly 

 turned where the stubble was yesterday, the brown 

 bark of trees, the brown fallen leaves, the brown 

 stalks of plants ; the red haws, the red unripe 

 blackberries, red bryony berries, reddish -yellow 

 fungi; yellow hawkweed, yellow ragwort, yellow 

 hazel-leaves, elms, spots in lime or beech; not a 

 speck of yellow, red, or brown the yellow sunlight 

 does not find out. And these make autumn, with 

 the caw of rooks, the peculiar autumn caw of laziness 



