Happily, The Wild Anemones Will Not Bear The Journey
To London, They Wither Too Soon; Else They Would Probably Be Torn Up Like
The Violets.
Neither is there any demand for the white barren strawberry
blossom, or the purplish ground-ivy among the finely marked fern moss.
The rain falls; and in the copses of the valley, deep and moist, where
grey lichen droops from the boughs, the thrushes sing all day - so
delighted are they to have the earth soft again, and so busy with the
nesting. At four o'clock in the morning the larks begin to sing: they
will be half an hour earlier next month, adjusting their time nicely by
the rising of the sun. They sing on till after the lamps are lit in the
evening. Far back in the snow-time a pair of wagtails used to come
several times a day close to the windows, their black markings showing up
singularly well against the snow on the ground. They seemed to have just
arrived. But now the weather is open and food plentiful they have left
us. The wagtails appear to be the first of the migrant birds to return,
long before the hail of April rattles against the windows and leaps up in
the short grass. Out in the hop-gardens the poles are placed ready for
setting, in conical heaps - at a distance resembling the tents of an army.
Never were the labouring men so glad to see the spring, for never have so
many of them been out of work or for longer periods. Yet, curiously
enough, even if out of work and suffering, every sort of job will not
suit them. One applicant for work was offered hop-pole shaving at 3 - s - . a
hundred - said to be a fair price; but the work did not please him, and he
would not do it. On the other hand, a girl sent out 'to service' turned
her back on domestic duties, ran away from her mistress, and joined her
father and brother in the woods where they were shaving hop-poles. There
she worked with them all the winter - the roughest of rough
winters - preferring the wild freedom of the snow-clad woods, with hard
food, to the indoor employment. No mistress there in the snow: one woman
does not like another over her. A man stood idling at the cross-roads in
the village for weeks, hands in pockets, waiting for work. Some one took
pity on him, and said he could come and dig up an acre of grassland to
make a market garden; 15 - s - . a week was the offer, with spade found, and
not long hours. 'Thank you, sir; I'll go and look at it,' said the
labourer. He went; and presently returned to say that he did not care
about it. In some way or other it did not fall in with his notions of
what work for him ought to be. I do not believe he was a bad sort of
fellow at all; but still there it is. No one can explain these things. A
distinct line, as it were, separates the cottager, his ways and thoughts,
from others. In a cottage with which I am acquainted an infant recently
died. The body was kept in the parents' bedroom close to their bed, day
and night, until burial. This is the custom. The cottage wife thinks that
not to have the body of her child by her bed would be most
unfeeling - most cruel to lay it by itself in a cold room away from her.
SOME APRIL INSECTS.
A black humble-bee came to the white hyacinths in the garden on the sunny
April morning when the yellow tulip opened, and as she alighted on the
flower there hovered a few inches in the rear an eager attendant, not
quite so large, more grey, and hovering with the shrillest vibration
close at hand. The black bee went round the other side of a bunch of
hyacinths, and was hidden in the bell of a purple one. At thus
temporarily losing sight of her, the follower, one might say, flew into a
state of extreme excitement, and spun round and round in the air till he
caught sight of her again and resumed his steady hovering. Then she went
to the next bunch of hyacinths; he followed her, when, with a furious,
shrill cry of swiftly beating wings, a second lover darted down, and then
the two followed the lady in black velvet - buzz, buzz, buzz, pointing
like hounds stationary in the air - buzz, buzz - while she without a
moment's thought of them worked at the honey. By-and-by one rushed at
her - a too eager caress, for she lost her balance and fell out of the
flower on to the ground. Up she got and pursued him for a few angry
circles, and then settled to work again. Presently the rivals darted at
each other and whirled about, and in the midst of the battle off went the
lady in velvet to another part of the garden, and the combatants
immediately rushed after her. Every morning that the tulip opened its
great yellow bell, these black humble-bees came, almost always followed
by one lover, sometimes, as on the first occasion, by two. A bright row
of polyanthus and oxlips seemed to be the haunt of the male bees. There
they waited, some on the leaves and some on the dry clods heated by the
sun, in ambush till a dark lady should come. The yellow tulip was a
perfect weather-meter; if there was the least bit of harshness in the
air, the least relic of the east wind, it remained folded. Sunshine alone
was not sufficient to tempt it, but the instant there was any softness in
the atmosphere open came the bell, and as if by a magic key all the bees
and humble-bees of the place were unlocked, and forth they came with
joyous note - not to visit the tulip, which is said to be a fatal cup of
poison to them.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 64 of 104
Words from 64442 to 65467
of 105669
