“‘I’m goin’ a-sit more in the lew o’ the wood today,’ Ma Hawkins said. ‘I sat out there yesterday and the wind cut holes in me breeches.’ ‘Puzzle it to cut through mine,’ Poll Sankey said. ‘I got two pair on. Me thick ’uns and me thin ’uns.’ ‘Hark at old Poll!’ they all said. ‘Hark at Poll!—Poll’s off again.’ Blue as water, pale and never still, a field of flax stirred with limp and tender waves below the field of sugar beet, cool green and glittering in the midday sun. Columns of sweet chestnut...s in fresh dusty yellow flowers were piled high beyond it, crested with breezy summer cloud that swept big brushes of shadow across the long blue hollow. ‘I’ll git me joint out,’ Poll said. ‘Who wants a cut off me joint? Don’t all speak at once—and them as open their mouths don’t say nothing!’ In the breezy air, cool for July, the laughing voices of the women were scattered like a crackle of crows. ‘Hark at old Poll!’ they said. ‘Hark at old Poll!MoreLessRead More Read Less
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