The lapwings were gathering in silence, and holding flying drills
in preparation for their journey; wad all the strand birds were
assembling, in order to take flight together. Even the lark had
lost its courage and was seeking convoy voiceless and unknown among
the other gray autumn birds. But the sea-gull stalked peaceably
about, protruding its crop; it was not under notice to quit.

The air was so still and languid and hazy. All sounds and colors
were toning down against the winter, and that vas very pleasant to
her.

She was weary, and the long dead winter would suit her well. She
knew that her winter would be longer than all the others, and she
began to shrink from the spring.

Then everything would awaken that the winter had laid to sleep. The
birds would come back and sing the old songs with new voices; and
upon the King's Knoll her mother's violets would peer forth afresh
in azure clusters; it was there that he had clasped her round the
waist and kissed her--over and over again.



THE PEAT MOOR.

High over the heathery wastes flew a wise old raven.

He was bound many miles westward, right out to the sea-coast, to
unearth a sow's ear which he had buried in the good times.