Jerome's father had been at work there with the old white horse that was drawing wood for him to-day.

Much of the garden had to be spaded instead of ploughed, because this same old white horse was needed for other work.
As Jerome spaded, the smell of the fresh earth came up in his face.
Now and then a gust of cold wind, sweet with unseen blossoms, smote him powerfully, bending his slender body before it like a sapling.

A bird flashed past him with a blue dazzle of wings, and Jerome stopped and looked after it.

It lit on the fence in front of the house, and shone there in the sunlight like a blue precious stone.

The boy gazed at it, leaning on his spade.