Chapter 46

           

           Severaldayshadpassedsinceherfutilejourney,andTesswasafield.Thedrywinterwindstillblew,butascreenofthatchedhurdleserectedintheeyeoftheblastkeptitsforceawayfromher.Ontheshelteredsidewasaturnip-slicingmachine,whosebrightbluehueofnewpaintseemedalmostvocalintheotherwisesubduedscene.Oppositeitsfrontwasalongmoundor“grave”,inwhichtherootshadbeenpreservedsinceearlywinter.Tesswasstandingattheuncoveredend,choppingoffwithabill-hookthefibresandearthfromeachroot,andthrowingitaftertheoperationintotheslicer.Amanwasturningthehandleofthemachine,andfromitstroughcamethenewly-cutswedes,thefreshsmellofwhoseyellowchipswasaccompaniedbythesoundsofthesnufflingwind,thesmartswishoftheslicing-blades,andthechoppingsofthehookinTess’sleather-glovedhand.

           Thewideacreageofblankagriculturalbrownness,apparentwheretheswedeshadbeenpulled,wasbeginningtobestripedinwalesofdarkerbrown,graduallybroadeningtoribands.Alongtheedgeofeachofthesesomethingcreptupontenlegs,movingwithouthasteandwithoutrestupanddownthewholelengthofthefield;itwastwohorsesandaman,theploughgoingbetweenthem,turninguptheclearedgroundforaspringsowing.

           Forhoursnothingrelievedthejoylessmonotonyofthings.Then,farbeyondtheploughing-teams,ablackspeckwasseen.Ithadcomefromthecornerofafence,wheretherewasagap,anditstendencywasuptheincline,towardstheswede-cutters.

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