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           "Whatdoyoufindtoattractyouinthispoordrablittlecountry?"

           "Anddoyouthink,"saidthefirstswallow,"thattheothercallisnotforustoo,initsdueseason?Thecalloflushmeadow-grass,wetorchards,warm,insect-hauntedponds,ofbrowsingcattle,ofhaymaking,andallthefarm-buildingsclusteringroundtheHouseoftheperfectEaves?"

           "Doyousuppose,"askedthesecondone,"thatyouaretheonlylivingthingthatcraveswithahungrylongingtohearthecuckoo’snoteagain?"

           "Induetime,"saidthethird,"weshallbehome-sickoncemoreforquietwater-liliesswayingonthesurfaceofanEnglishstream.Butto-dayallthatseemspaleandthinandveryfaraway.Justnowourblooddancestoothermusic."

           Theyfella-twitteringamongthemselvesoncemore,andthistimetheirintoxicatingbabblewasofvioletseas,tawnysands,andlizard-hauntedwalls.

           RestlesslytheRatwanderedoffoncemore,climbedtheslopethatrosegentlyfromthenorthbankoftheriver,andlaylookingouttowardsthegreatringofDownsthatbarredhisvisionfurthersouthwards—hissimplehorizonhitherto,hisMountainsoftheMoon,hislimitbehindwhichlaynothinghehadcaredtoseeortoknow.To-day,tohimgazingSouthwithanew-bornneedstirringinhisheart,theclearskyovertheirlonglowoutlineseemedtopulsatewithpromise;to-day,theunseenwaseverything,theunknowntheonlyrealfactoflife.