In Most Cases He Would
Start Back And Stand Still, Astonished At Such An Outburst,
And Then, Concluding That The Only Way To Save His Dignity Was
To Face The Music, He Would Step Hurriedly Across The Green
Space To Hide Himself Behind The Crowd.
The most amusing case was that of a very tall person adorned
with an exceedingly long, bright red beard, who had on a
Glengarry cap and a great shawl over his overcoat.
The
instant this unfortunate person stepped into the arena a
general wild cry of "Scotland for ever!" was raised, followed
by such cheers and yells that the poor man actually staggered
back as if he had received a blow, then seeing there was no
other way out of it, he too rushed across the open space to
lose himself among the others.
All this proved very entertaining, and I was glad to laugh
with the crowd, thinking that after all we were taking a very
mild revenge on our hated enemies, the tyrants of the roads.
The fun over, I went soberly back to my village, and finding
it impossible to get to sleep I went to Sunday-morning service
at Shrewton Church. It was strangely restful there after that
noisy morning crowd at Stonehenge. The church is white stone
with Norman pillars and old oak beams laid over the roof
painted or distempered blue - a quiet, peaceful blue. There
was also a good deal of pleasing blue colour in the glass of
the east window.
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