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intersected by lines of cold grey stone； for one where his road
wound under the shelter of woods； or up swelling hills； muffled
with hedgerows and long meadow…grass and thick corn； and
where at every turn he came upon some fine old country…seat
nestled in the valley or crowning the slope； some homestead with
its long length of barn and its cluster of golden ricks； some grey
steeple looking out from a pretty confusion of trees and thatch and
dark…red tiles。 It was just such a picture as this last that Hayslope
Church had made to the traveller as he began to mount the gentle
slope leading to its pleasant uplands； and now from his station
near the Green he had before him in one view nearly all the other
typical features of this pleasant land。 High up against the horizon
were the huge conical masses of hill； like giant mounds intended
to fortify this region of corn and grass against the keen and hungry
winds of the north； not distant enough to be clothed in purple
mystery； but with sombre greenish sides visibly specked with
sheep； whose motion was only revealed by memory； not detected
by sight； wooed from day to day by the changing hours； but
responding with no change in themselves—left for ever grim and
sullen after the flush of morning； the winged gleams of the April
noonday； the parting crimson glory of the ripening summer sun。
And directly below them the eye rested on a more advanced line of
hanging woods； divided by bright patches of pasture or furrowed
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Adam Bede 25
crops； and not yet deepened into the uniform leafy curtains of high
summer； but still showing the warm tints of the young oak and the
tender green of the ash and lime。 Then came the valley； where the
woods grew thicker； as if they had rolled down and hurried
together from the patches left smooth on the slope； that they might
take the better care of the tall mansion which lifted its parapets
and sent its faint blue summer smoke among them。 Doubtless
there was a large sweep of park and a broad glassy pool in front of
that mansion； but the swelling slope of meadow would not let our
traveller see them from the village green。 He saw instead a
foreground which was just as lovely—the level sunlight lying like
transparent gold among the gently curving stems of the feathered
grass and the tall red sorrel； and the white ambels of the hemlocks
lining the bushy hedgerows。 It was that moment in summer when
the sound of the scythe being whetted makes us cast more
lingering looks at the flower…sprinkled tresses of the meadows。
He might have seen other beauties in the landscape if he had
turned a little in his saddle and looked eastward； beyond Jonathan
Burge’s pasture and woodyard towards the green corn…fields and
walnut…trees of the Hall Farm； but apparently there was more
interest for him in the living groups close at hand。 Every
generation in the village was there； from old “Feyther Taft” in his
brown worsted night…cap； who was bent nearly double； but
seemed tough enough to keep on his legs a long while； leaning on
his short stick； down to the babies with their little round heads
lolling forward in quilted linen caps。 Now and then there was a
new arrival； perhaps a slouching labourer； who； having eaten his
supper； came out to look at the unusual scene with a slow bovine
gaze； willing to hear what any one had to say in explanation of it；
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Adam Bede 26
but by no means excited enough to ask a question。 But all took
care not to join the Methodists on the Green； and identify
themselves in that way with the expectant audience； for there was
not one of them that would not have disclaimed the imputation of
having come out to hear the “preacher woman”—they had only
come out to see “what war a…goin’ on； like。” The men were chiefly
gathered in the neighbourhood of the blacksmith’s shop。 But do
not imagine them gathered in a knot。 Villagers never swarm： a
whisper is unknown among them； and they seem almost as
incapable of an undertone as a cow or a stag。 Your true rustic
turns his back on his interlocutor； throwing a question over his
shoulder as if he meant to run away from the answer； and walking
a step or two farther off when the interest of the dialogue
culminates。 So the group in the vicinity of the blacksmith’s door
was by no means a close one； and formed no screen in front of
Chad Cranage； the blacksmith himself； who stood with his black
brawny arms folded； leaning against the door…post； and
occasionally sending forth a bellowing laugh at his own jokes；
giving them a marked preference over the sarcasms of Wiry Ben；
who had renounced the pleasures of the Holly Bush for the sake of
seeing life under a new form。 But both styles of wit were treated
with equal contempt by Mr。 Joshua Rann。 Mr。 Rann’s leathern
apron and subdued griminess can leave no one in any doubt that
he is the village shoemaker； the thrusting out of his chin and
stomach and the twirling of his thumbs are more subtle
indications； intended to prepare unwary strangers for the
discovery that they are in the presence of the parish clerk。 “Old
Joshway；” as he is irreverently called by his neighbours； is in a
state of simmering indignation； but he has not yet opened his lips
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Adam Bede 27
except to say； in a resounding bass undertone； like the tuning of a
violoncello； “Sehon； King of the Amorites； for His mercy endureth
for ever； and