A large green, park-like shaded by well-
grown oak, elm, beech, and ash trees; a small slow stream of water
winding through it:
Round this pleasant shaded and watered space the
low-roofed thatched cottages, each cottage in its own garden, its porch
and walls overgrown with ivy and creepers. Thus, instead of a straight
line like Burbage it formed a circle, and every cottage opened on to
the tree-shaded village green; and this green was like a great common
room where the villagers meet, where the children play, where lovers
whisper their secrets, where the aged and weary take their rest, and
all subjects of interest are daily discussed. If a blackcap or
chaffinch sung in one of the trees the strain could be heard in every
cottage in the circle. All hear and see the same things, and think and
feel the same.
The neighbouring village was neither line, nor circle, but a cluster of
cottages. Or rather a group of clusters, so placed that a dozen or more
housewives could stand at their respective doors, very nearly facing
one another, and confabulate without greatly raising their voices.
Outside, all round, the wide open country - grass and tilled land and
hedges and hedgerow elms - is spread out before them. And in sight of
all the cottages, rising a little above them, stands the hoary ancient
church with giant old elm-trees growing near it, their branches laden
with rooks' nests, the air full of the continuous noise of the
wrangling birds, as they fly round and round, and go and come bringing
sticks all day, one to add to the high airy city, the other to drop as
an offering to the earth-god beneath, in whose deep-buried breast the
old trees have their roots.
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