omely.
And probably the same peaceful conditions extended to the labouring
folk. Of course, their ploughing and harvesting have left no traces; but
there is much suggestiveness in some little things one may note, such
as the friendly behaviour of carter-men to their horses, and the
accomplished finish given to the thatch of ricks, and the endearing
names which people in out-of-the-way places still bestow upon their
cows. Quietly, but convincingly, such things tell their tale of
tranquillity, for they cannot have originated amongst a people
habitually unhappy and harassed. But whether the day's work went
comfortably or no, certainly the people's own home-work--to turn to that
again--must often have been agreeable, and sometimes delightful. The
cottage crafts were not all strictly useful; some had simple aesthetic
ends. If you doubt it, look merely at the clipped hedges of box and yew
in the older gardens; they are the result of long and loving care, but
they serve no particular end, save to please the eye. So, too, in
general, if you think that the folk of old were inappreciative of
beauty, you have but to listen to their names of flowers--sweet-william,
hearts-ease, marigold, meadow-sweet, night-shade--for proof that English
peasant-life had its graceful side.

Still, their useful work must, after all, have been the mainstay of the
villagers; and how thoroughly their spirits were immersed in it I
suppose few living people will ever be able to realize. For my part, I
dare not pretend to comprehend it; only at times I can vaguely feel what
the peasant's attitude must have been. All the things of the countryside
had an intimate bearing upon his own fate; he was not there to admire
them, but to live by them--or, say, to wrest his living from them by
familiar knowledge of their properties. From long experience--experience
older than his own, and traditional amongst his people--he knew the soil
of the fields and its variations almost foot by foot; he understood the
springs and streams; hedgerow and ditch explained themselves to him; the
coppices and woods, the water-meadows and the windy heaths, the local
chalk and clay and stone, all had a place in his regard--reminded him of
the crafts of his people, spoke to him of the economies of his own
cottage life; so that the turfs or the faggots or the timber he handled
when at home called his fancy, while he was handling them, to the
landscape they came from. Of the intimacy of thi