Some of them had waited like this every market morning for years.

There were fewer on the road than usual, it being near harvest, when many do not so much care to leave home.
Upon reaching the foot of the Downs, Cicely left the highway and entered a narrow lane without hedges, but worn low between banks of chalk or white rubble.

The track was cut up with ruts so deep that the bed of the pony-trap seemed almost to touch the ground.

As we went rather slowly along this awkward place we could see the wild thyme growing on the bank at the side.

Presently we got on the slope of the hill, and at the summit passed the entrenchment and the shepherds' timepiece.