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Gone to Earth

Chapter 8 No.8

Word Count: 3429    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

the place of a flower-garden. Away to the left, just over a rise, the hill was gashed by the grey steeps of the quarries. In front rose another curve covered with thick woods. To t

se with mystery, was the Sunday congregation, which appeare

lly religious, taking on trust what he was taught; and he had an instinctive pleasure in clean and healthy things. But on winter nights at the mountain, when the tingling stars sprang in and out of their black am

to be afraid of, and bicycles. Here I just cover my ears for wind, put on an extra flannel petticoat for frost, a

out the place, mother? I feel as if some

he general who came in by the day from the first cottage in the batch)-'Marth

o should I be in

just go and see if there are any sprouts left. We'll have them for dinner.' Edward looked at the woods across the batch, and wondered

ght little of it; then we went to the "Crucifixion," and though it was very pleasant, I couldn't digest the oysters afterwards. And then, again, these clever musicians allow themselves to become

d lau

nger is not a contralto. Contralto, to my mind,' she went on placidly, stirring her porter in preparation for a draught, 'is

h, hilarious, to superimpose tumult on the peace of God's L

g had an overdose, had not survived. Mrs. Marston always spoke of him as 'my poor husband who fell asleep,' as if he had dozed in a sermon. Sleep was her fetish, panacea and art. Her strongest condemnation was to call a person 'a stirring body.' She sat to-day,

eam-jug now! Well, break one, break three!' she only shook her head, and murmured that servants were not what they used to be. When Martha's friend's little boy dropped the urn-presented to the l

rn, and the seaweed-looking like a china-shop; the urn, now rakishly dinted, presiding. People paid for their supper on these occasions, and expected to hav

*

demon that clung round his neck and possessed him-came a roar of sound. The brass band from Black Mountain was in possession of the platform. The gol

g into this cave of saffron light and rosy joy as sardonically as if they knew that those within its shelter would soon be without, shelt

ll the band's there, purple with pleasure, an

looke

hey eggs each other on cruel, so they do! Your ears may be dinned and deafened for life, and you lost to the bee-keeping (for hear you must, or you'm done, with bees),

r Abel's voice had trembled, and Hazel must comfort gr

nted; 'but what can I

the artist must elbow and push, and that if he did not often stop hi

leepy and quiet, like smoked bees. Is that the Minister?

he

lack coat on and a k

ou-when the moon falls down the chapel chimn

ing anybody. Let's

ftly among the coils of ruddy hair, she put a wreath of violets, which grew ever

tefulness of a fairy in a dream. His heart went out to her, not only for her morning air, her vivid eyes, her coronet of youth's rare violets, but for the wistfulness that was not only in her face, but in her poise and in every mov

een. The tendrils of burnished hair about her forehead and ears curled and shone with life;

orm and began to play, quite regardless

heaven pla

rist with his

Peter and

played for

aven, made

han the r

ne but is

broken-min

ven play hig

ld, rainy

arp, as gree

d harp witho

y meant nothing), but the sad cadence suited her emotional tone, and the ideas of loss and exile expressed her vague mistrust o

mystical longing or a sense of

h later he did. It was the grief of rainy forests, and the moan of stormy water; the muffled complai

und of thunder in a blossoming orchard). The echoes are in us of great voices long gone hence, the unknown cries of huge beasts on the mountains; the sullen aims of creatures in the slime; the love-call of the bittern. We know, too, echoes of things outside our ken-the thought that shapes itself in the bee's brain and becomes a waxen box of sweets; the tyranny of youth stirring in the womb; the crazy terror of small slaughtered beasts; the upward push of folded grass, and how the leaf feels in all its veins the cold rain; the ceremonial that passes yearly in t

tly blind to her real self. Mrs. Marston thought what a pity it was that she looked so wild; Martha thought it a pity that she did not wear a chenille net over her hair to keep it neat;

o be sure she was the only girl he would ever want to marry. His ministerial self put in a faint proviso, 'If she is a go

anguish of mind lest the cornet should monopolize Hazel at supper. The said cornet had become several shades more purple each time Hazel sang, so Edward was prepared for the worst. He w

Mrs. Marston, 'have y

lite way of ind

mot

your mind; you have kept up such a feeling of un

u think of

, de

autiful

and such hair! Like pussy stroked the wrong way. And there is something a little peculiar about her, for whe

the bearing of Hazel Woodus-something that penetrated the underworld which lay like a covered well

of Hazel's attention, and the quiet grey e

n-to your home, would y

promised for the

t's

ed at him

know what

afrai

k off'n the failed tre

e the fel

r's Sp

s clos

A

thought. The cornet

next Sunday

rned round di

e to tea with mother? I might be

I dunna want to t

very much amused, and with a look of qu

y week's

ednesda

e old sleep

dignity, 'will approve o

rrel with Mrs. Marston as to strike a match on a damp box, there had never been any friction. She liked things, as she said, 'nice and pleasant.' To do Providence justice, everything always had been. Even when her husband died it had been, in a crape-clad way, nice and pleasant, for he died after the testimonial and the urn, and not before, as a less considerate man would have done. He died on a Sunday, w

nd I'm much oblee

r's Spinney and see you

hed back his chair and went to another table with a sardonic l

tartlets! To-night they wunna go round. I've

ty,' said Martha, fl

must be fetched.' Other voices joined in, and

oblivious

earnestly, 'like me to

of protection about him. 'It'll be so safe-like when I

he relation in which he wished to stand t

by the uproar that broke forth at the cry

aud it would not look well, and therefore put his sinewy person in the kitchen doorway. Edward seized t

ved tartlets. I

April night, and Hazel's vivid presence and violet fragrance and young laughte

of your cl

es class

u "sir," and Martha looks

er "young per

r, or a silly flirtation, it will onl

hoisted herself upstairs with the candlestick very much

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