. Our village. ^f\<^ ^irst ^ ac/C stiv.—Fine March weather: boister-ous, blustering, much wind and squallsof rain ; and yet the sky, where theclouds are swept away, deliciously blue,with snatches of sunshine, bright, andclear, and healthful, and the roads, in spite of the slightglittering showers, crisply dry. Altogether the day istempting, very tempting. It will not do for the dearcommon, that windmill of a walk ; but the close shelteredlanes at the bottom of the hill, which keep out justenough of the stormy air, and let in all the sun, will bedelightful. Past our old house, and ro
. Our village. ^f\<^ ^irst ^ ac/C stiv.—Fine March weather: boister-ous, blustering, much wind and squallsof rain ; and yet the sky, where theclouds are swept away, deliciously blue,with snatches of sunshine, bright, andclear, and healthful, and the roads, in spite of the slightglittering showers, crisply dry. Altogether the day istempting, very tempting. It will not do for the dearcommon, that windmill of a walk ; but the close shelteredlanes at the bottom of the hill, which keep out justenough of the stormy air, and let in all the sun, will bedelightful. Past our old house, and round by the wind-ing lanes, and the workhouse, and across the lea, andso into the turnpike-road again,—that is our route forto-day. Forth we set, Mayflower and I, rejoicing inthe sunshine, and still more in the wind, which givessuch an intense feeling of existence, and, co-operatingwith brisk motion, sets our blood and our spirits in aglow. For mere physical pleasure, there is nothing 4» OUR perhaps equal to the enjoyment
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Keywords: ., bookauthorritchieannethackeray1, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890
