MANY years ago, on one of the loveliest of summer days—a day which seemed made on purpose to enable farmers to save their hay—there was a great haymaking going on in a large field belonging to a farm in one of the midland counties of England. It was so long ago that haymaking machines, if indeed they existed at all, were not common; and so that prettiest of country sights, a haymaking in the old style, was still to be seen. A long irregular line of men and maidens, each armed with a fork or rake, passed slowly across the sunny field, gathering the hay into ridges, which looked not unlike the waves of the sea after a high wind, when they come in on the shore in long undulating swells, one af…
Your support pays for translating these classics into more languages.
Support for $12/month DonateSubscribers read with instant translation, without waiting for the free daily limit.