76 Next to the Ground 



ten minutes. It would have taken half an 

 hour by daylight, with clouds and the same 

 wind. In still sunshine it would have taken 

 half a day, yet been nothing like so well done. 

 Why, is among the curious small secrets of 

 nature's processes the wise men have yet to 

 find out. The cave-dwellers no doubt knew 

 that sunshine had a trick of making fire burn 

 languidly, yet their remote descendants have 

 not gone much beyond the fact. 



Joe went home over the burned ground, 

 stepping out sturdily at his father's side. The 

 earth was still warm — warm enough to pene- 

 trate thick boot soles. It was light too — 

 so light in places they sank shoe-mouth deep, 

 and in other places the sedge tussocks came up 

 for a sound kick. Given its own time, its own 

 way, and freedom from trampling hoofs, sedge 

 loosens land marvelously, and makes it rich. 

 The drawback is, it takes so much time. Un- 

 like clover it neither feeds on the air nor breeds 

 enriching spores. Its work is mechanical — 

 the roots creep, the stalks shelter, the leaves 

 droop as a mulch to entangle air and moisture, 

 which are the primal soil-solvents. By their 

 help the mineral particles break down, as, on a 

 bigger scale, stone and pebble broke down to 

 sand and clay. Then the rotting mulch adds 

 humus — the leaf mould in which all grow- 

 ing things delight. Further, the mulch catches 



