is deaf and loving. I remember those large dipping willows. I remember the stone bridge.
And this is Dorlcote Mill. I must stand a minute or two here on the bridge and look at it, though the clouds are threatening, and it is far on in the afternoon. Even in this leafless time of departing February it is Antti Niemi Jersey pleasant to look at — perhaps the chill, damp season adds a charm to the trimly kept, comfortable dwelling-house, as old as the elms and chestnuts that shelter it from the northern blast. The stream is Miehet Parajumpers Windbreaker Desert brimful now, and lies high in this little withy plantation, and half drowns the Doug Gilmour Jersey grassy fringe of the croft in front of the house. As I look at the full stream, the vivid grass, the delicate bright-green powder softening the outline of the great trunks and branches that gleam from David Backes Jersey under the bare purple boughs, Moncler Naiset pitkä untuvatakki I am in love with moistness, and envy the white ducks that are dipping their heads far Thomas Vanek Jersey into the water here among the withes, unmindful of the awkward appearance they make in the drier world above.
The rush of the water and the booming of the mill bring a dreamy deafness, which seems to heighten the peacefulness of the scene. They are like a great curtain of sound, shutting one out from the world beyond. And now there is the thunder of the huge covered wagon coming home with sacks of grain. That The North Face käsineet honest wagoner is thinking of his dinner, getting sadly dry in the oven at this late Salomon S-Wind Pro Kengät hour; but he will not touch it till he has fed his horses — the strong, submissive, meek-eyed beasts, Nike Air Max 95 Męskie who, I fancy, are looking mild reproach at him from between their UGG Classic Short Paisley 5831 blinkers, that he should crack his whip at them in that awful manner as if they needed that hint! See how they stretch their Adirondack Tall Czyścibut 5498 shoulders up the slope toward the bridge, with all the more energy because they are so near home. Look at their grand shaggy feet that seem to grasp the firm earth, at the patient strength of their necks, bowed under the heavy collar, at the mighty muscles of their struggling haunches! I should like well to hear them neigh over their hardly earned feed of corn, and see them, with their moist necks freed from the harness, dipping their eager nostrils into the muddy pond. Now they are on the bridge, and down they go again at a swifter pace, and the arch of the covered wagon disappears at the turning behind the trees.
Now I can turn my eyes toward the mill again, and watch the unresting wheel sending out its diamond jets of water. That little girl is watching it too; she has been standing on just the same spot at the edge of the water ever since I paused on the bridge. And that queer white cur with the brown ear seems to be leaping and barking in ineffectual remonstrance Nick Holden Jersey with the wheel; perhaps he is jealous because his playfellow in the beaver bonnet is so rapt in its movement. It is time the little playfellow went in, I think; and there is a very bright fire to tempt her: the red light shines out under the deepening gray of the sky. It is time, too, for me to leave off resting my arms on the cold stone of this bridge. . . .
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