gone out soon after dawn。 A cold wind was blowing。 He had his
old trousers tucked into his boots； he wore no coat nor
waistcoat； his shirt…sleeves fluttered in the wind； his face was
ruddy and intent； in a kind of sleep。 When he was at work he
neither heard nor saw。 A long； thin man； looking still a youth；
with a line of black moustache above his thick mouth； and his
fine hair blown on his forehead； he worked away at the earth in
the grey first light； alone。 His solitariness drew the child
like a spell。
The wind came chill over the dark…green fields。 Ursula ran up
and watched him push the setting…peg in at one side of his ready
earth； stride across； and push it in the other side； pulling the
line taut and clear upon the clods intervening。 Then with a
sharp cutting noise the bright spade came towards her； cutting a
grip into the new； soft earth。
He struck his spade upright and straightened himself。
〃Do you want to help me？〃 he said。
She looked up at him from out of her little woollen
bonnet。
〃Ay；〃 he said； 〃you can put some taters in for me。
Look……like that……these little sprits standing
up……so much apart； you see。〃
And stooping down he quickly； surely placed the spritted
potatoes in the soft grip； where they rested separate and
pathetic on the heavy cold earth。
He gave her a little basket of potatoes；