The Sleeping of the Fields 305 
is their superficial suggestion, is merged and lost in 
the far more deeply pervading thoughts of rest and 
resurrection. The brown meadows, in which the 
work of the reapers is done, have borne and nour- 
ished the crops of the year, the food of millions. 
Their summer’s task completed, they lie at rest, 
gathering from air and sun, from autumn rain and 
winter snow, the constituents which will help to 
feed the crops of another year. The lilies, which 
neither toil nor spin, have yet made just and due 
provision for another summer’s need. In bulbs, 
protected from frost and damp by a coat of papery, 
scales, the young foliage, and in some cases even 
the flowers of an other season, sleep, and packed in 
with them isa store of gums and starches gathered 
for the needs of next spring by this summer’s 
leaves and roots. 
The orchard-trees have been putting their vi- 
tallity first into a wealth of bloom, and then into 
the fruit ‘‘ pleasant to the eyes and good for 
food.’’ Now their duties are done, and as a tired 
worker removes the clothing of the day before 
lying down to rest, they strip themselves of the 
green robes which they have worn all summer. 
The forest-trees by September have formed and 
ripened their seed. And all have laid away be- 
