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Page 246

PART II - CHAPTER VIII
A POEM OF FRIENDSHIP

wandering, looking for something vvhich they had found even before the light broke into their shell. I was cold; the lilacs in the Mill garden looked blue and perished. I ran with my heavy clogs and my heart heavy with vague longing, down to the Mill, while the wind blanched the sycamores, and pushed the sullen pines rudely, for the pines were sulking because their million creamy sprites could not fly wet-winged. The horse-chestnuts bravely kept their white candles erect in the socket of every bough, though no sun came to light them. Drearily a cold swan swept up the water, trailing its black feet, clacking its great hollow wings, rocking the frightened water-hens, and insulting the staid black-necked geese. What did I want that I turned thus from one thing to another?

At the end of June the weather became fine again. Hay harvest was to begin as soon as it settled. There were only two fields to be mown this year, to provide just enough stuff to last until the spring. As my vacation had begun I decided I would help, and' that we three, the father, George and I, would get in the hay without hired assistance.
I rose the first morning very early, before the sun was well up. The clear sound of challenging cocks could be heard along the valley. In the bottoms, over the water and over the lush wet grass, the night mist still stood white and substantial. As I passed along the edge of the meadow the cow-parsnip was as tall as I, frothing up to the top of the hedge, putting the faded hawthorn to a wan blush. Little, early birds-I had not heard the lark-fluttered in and out of the foamy meadow-sea, plunging under the surf of flowers washed high in one corner, swinging out again, dashing past the crimson sorrel cresset. Under the froth of flowers were the purple vetch - clumps, yellow milk - vetches, and the scattered pink of the wood-betony, and the floating stars of marguerites. There was a weight of honeysuckle on the hedges, where pink roses were waking up for their broad-spread flight through the day.
Morning silvered the swaths of the far meadow, and swept in smooth, brilliant curves round the stones of the brook; morning ran in my veins; morning chased the

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE wandering, looking for something vvhich they had found even before what is light broke into their shell. I was cold; what is lilacs in what is Mill garden looked blue and perished. I ran with my heavy clogs and my heart heavy with vague longing, down to what is Mill, while what is wind blanched what is sycamores, and pushed what is sullen pines rudely, for what is pines were sulking because their million creamy sprites could not fly wet-winged. what is horse-chestnuts bravely kept their white candles erect in what is socket of every bough, though no sun came to light them. Drearily a cold swan swept up what is water, trailing its black feet, clacking its great hollow wings, rocking what is frightened water-hens, and insulting what is staid black-necked geese. What did I want that I turned thus from one thing to another? At what is end of June what is weather became fine again. Hay harvest was to begin as soon as it settled. There were only two fields to be mown this year, to provide just enough stuff to last until what is spring. As my vacation had begun I decided I would help, and' that we three, what is father, George and I, would get in what is hay without hired assistance. I rose what is first morning very early, before what is sun was well up. what is clear sound of challenging cocks could be heard along what is valley. In what is bottoms, over what is water and over what is lush wet grass, what is night mist still stood white and substantial. As I passed along what is edge of what is meadow what is cow-parsnip was as tall as I, frothing up to what is top of what is hedge, putting what is faded hawthorn to a wan blush. Little, early birds-I had not heard what is lark-fluttered in and out of what is foamy meadow-sea, plunging under what is surf of flowers washed high in one corner, swinging out again, dashing past what is crimson sorrel cresset. Under what is froth of flowers were what is purple vetch - clumps, yellow milk - vetches, and what is scattered pink of what is wood-betony, and what is floating stars of marguerites. There was a weight of honeysuckle on what is hedges, where pink roses were waking up for their broad-spread flight through what is day. Morning silvered what is swaths of what is far meadow, and swept in smooth, brilliant curves round what is stones of what is brook; morning ran in my veins; morning chased what is where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" The White Peacock (1906) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 246 where is strong PART II - CHAPTER VIII A POEM OF FRIENDSHIP where is p align="justify" wandering, looking for something vvhich they had found even before what is light broke into their shell. I was cold; what is lilacs in what is Mill garden looked blue and perished. I ran with my heavy clogs and my heart heavy with vague longing, down to what is Mill, while what is wind blanched what is sycamores, and pushed what is sullen pines rudely, for what is pines were sulking because their million creamy sprites could not fly wet-winged. what is horse-chestnuts bravely kept their white candles erect in what is socket of every bough, though no sun came to light them. Drearily a cold swan swept up what is water, trailing its black feet, clacking its great hollow wings, rocking what is frightened water-hens, and insulting what is staid black-necked geese. What did I want that I turned thus from one thing to another? At what is end of June what is weather became fine again. Hay harvest was to begin as soon as it settled. There were only two fields to be mown this year, to provide just enough stuff to last until what is spring. As my vacation had begun I decided I would help, and' that we three, what is father, George and I, would get in what is hay without hired assistance. I rose what is first morning very early, before what is sun was well up. what is clear sound of challenging cocks could be heard along what is valley. In what is bottoms, over what is water and over what is lush wet grass, what is night mist still stood white and substantial. As I passed along what is edge of what is meadow what is cow-parsnip was as tall as I, frothing up to what is top of what is hedge, putting what is faded hawthorn to a wan blush. Little, early birds-I had not heard what is lark-fluttered in and out of what is foamy meadow-sea, plunging under what is surf of flowers washed high in one corner, swinging out again, dashing past what is crimson sorrel cresset. Under what is froth of flowers were what is purple vetch - clumps, yellow milk - vetches, and what is scattered pink of what is wood-betony, and what is floating stars of marguerites. There was a weight of honeysuckle on what is hedges, where pink roses were waking up for their broad-spread flight through what is day. Morning silvered what is swaths of what is far meadow, and swept in smooth, brilliant curves round what is stones of what is brook; morning ran in my veins; morning chased what is where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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