Above the hazel rose two straight, joyous maple-trees
with gayly indented leaves, red stems and long dangling clusters of
green fruit. Behind the maples came the forest--a green evenly rounded
slope, where birds went out and in as elves in a grasshill.
All this you could see if you came wandering along the path through
the fields beyond the fence. If, however, you were lying in the shadow
of the oak with your back against the trunk and looking the other
way--and there was a some one, who did that--then you would see first
your own legs, then a little spot of short, vigorous grass, next a
large cluster of dark nettles, then the hedge of thorn with the big,
white convolvulus, the stile, a little of the ryefield outside,
finally the councilor's flagpole on the hill, and then the sky.
It was stifling hot, the air was quivering with heat, and then it was
very quiet; the leaves were hanging from the trees as if asleep.
Nothing moved except the lady-birds and the nettles and a few withered
leaves that lay on the grass and rolled themselves up with sudden
little jerks as if they were shrinking from the sunbeams.
And then the man underneath the oak; he lay there gasping for air and
with a melancholy look stared helplessly towards the sky. He tried to
hum a tune, but gave it up; whistled, then gave that up too; turned
round, turned round again and let his eyes rest upon an old mole-hill,
that had become quite gray in the drought.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25