And later in the afternoon she trudged up the hill under the tall hedge with her child.

The hay was gathered from the fields, and cattle were turned on to the eddish.

It was warm, peaceful.
Mrs.Morel did not like the wakes.

There were two sets of horses, one going by steam, one pulled round by a pony; three organs were grinding, and there came odd cracks of pistol-shots, fearful screeching of the cocoanut man's rattle, shouts of the Aunt Sally man, screeches from the peep-show lady.

The mother perceived her son gazing enraptured outside the Lion Wallace booth, at the pictures of this famous lion that had killed a negro and maimed for life two white men.