80 FEESH FIELDS 



or ten days of silence, during whicli the parent 

 birds by their manner seem to bemoan their loss 

 and to take counsel together, the male breaks forth 

 with a new song, and the female begins to construct 

 a new nest. The poets, therefore, in depicting the 

 bird on such occasions as bewailing the -lost brood, 

 are wide of the mark; he is invoking and celebrat- 

 ing a new brood. 



As it was mid-afternoon, I could only compose 

 myself till nightfall. I accompanied the farmer to 

 the hay-field and saw the working of his mowing- 

 machine, a rare implement in England, as most of 

 the grass is still cut by hand, and raked by hand 

 also. The disturbed skylarks were hovering above 

 the falling grass, full of anxiety for their nests, as 

 one may note the bobolinks on like occasions at 

 home. The weather is so uncertain in England, 

 and it is so impossible to predict its complexion, 

 not only from day to day but from hour to hour, 

 that the farmers appear to consider it a suitable time 

 to cut grass when it is not actually raining. They 

 slash away without reference to the aspects of the 

 sky, and when the field is down trust to luck to be 

 able to cure the hay, or get it ready to "carry" 

 between the showers. The clouds were lowering 

 and the air was damp now, and it was Saturday 

 afternoon; but the farmer said they would never 

 get their hay if they minded such things. The 

 farm had seen better days; so had the farmer; both 

 were slightly down at the heel. Too high rent and 

 too much hard cider were working their efiects upon 



