out clear, stiff and self-important as a dapper constable.
Above the mist the golden wonder of the sunlight held sway. The upper mould-board of the heavy plough gleamed bright and the colter, as it caught the glint of the sun, looked like the stubby sword of a dwarf knight, stocky and slow.
Two men were at work in the field; the younger, a lad of seventeen or eighteen, with limbs still loose-jointed and enormous hands, was spreading manure. He sang as he worked. The immature voice exploded in heavy gusts of song which, for all that, rang out, so resonant was the air.
The man at the plough did not sing, but like his companion, he felt the joy of the moment. He had had a Sunday's rest and as he began the week, his implement felt light to his hand. He was tall and straight, with a finely chiseled head and rather long legs. His round hat, stuck on the back of his head, left uncovered his lean, brown, clean-shaven face. His black eyes were quick and roving.
He drove his animals with a skilled hand, without any shouting. Yet, he was breaking in two young bullocks, but he had placed them in the middle of the team and immediately worked them so hard that they were soon under control, panting and submissive. Even at the headland the bullocks meekly followed their leaders. All the ploughman had to do was to quietly lift his plough and turn it
