BIRDS IN A VILLAGE 159 



chestnut hair loosed and scattered on the sward, 

 her arms stretched out, her eyes nearly closed, 

 basking in the sun, as happy as some heat-loving 

 wild animal. No, it was not strange that she had 

 not gone to school with the others when her dis- 

 position was remembered, but most strange to 

 hear a voice of such quality in a spot where 

 nature was rich and lovely, and only man was, 

 if not vile, at all events singularly wanting in the 

 finer human qualities. 



Looking out from the open window across the 

 low hedge-top, I could see her as she alternately 

 rose and fell with slow, indolent motion, now 

 waist-high above the green dividing wall, then 

 only her brown head visible resting against the 

 rope just where her hand had grasped it. And 

 as she swayed herself to and fro she sang that 

 simple melody — probably some child's hymn 

 which she had been taught at the Sunday-school; 

 but it was a very long hymn, or else she repeated 

 the same few stanzas many times, and after each 

 there was a brief pause, and then the voice that 

 seemed to fall and rise with the motion went on 

 as before. I could have stood there for an hour 

 — nay, for hours — listening to it, so fresh and 



