Far from the Madding Crowd Read Online Free

and slightly yawned in sympathy.
    â€œI wish we were rich enough to pay a man to do these things,” she said.
    â€œAs we are not, we must do them ourselves,” said the other; “for you must help me if you stay.”
    â€œWell, my hat is gone, however,” continued the younger. “It went over the hedge, I think. The idea, of such a slight wind catching it.”
    The cow standing erect was of the Devon breed, and was encased in a tight warm hide of rich Indian red, as absolutely uniform from eyes to tail as if the animal had been dipped in a dye of that colour, her long back being mathematically level. The other was spotted, grey and white. Beside her Oak now noticed a little calf about a day old, looking idiotically at the two women, which showed that it had not long been accustomed to the phenomenon of eyesight, and often turning to the lantern, which it apparently mistook for the moon, inherited instinct having as yet had little time for correction by experience. Between the sheep and the cows, Lucina, that Goddess of birth and labour, had been busy on Norcombe Hill lately.
    â€œI think we had better send for some oatmeal,” said the elder woman; “there’s no more bran.”
    â€œYes, aunt; and I’ll ride over for it as soon as it is light.”
    â€œBut there’s no side-saddle.”
    â€œI can ride on the other: trust me.”
    Oak, upon hearing these bold remarks, became more curious to observe her features, but this prospect being denied him by the hooding effect of the cloak, and by his aerial position, he felt himself drawing upon his fancy for their details. In making even horizontal and clear inspections we colour and mould according to the wants within us whatever our eyes bring in. Had Gabriel been able from the first to get a distinct view of her countenance, his estimate of it as very handsome or slightly so would have been as his soul required a divinity at the moment or was ready supplied with one. Having for some time known the want of a satisfactory form to fill an increasing void within him, a void he had scarcely confessed even to himself, his position moreover affording the widest scope for his fancy, he painted her a beauty.
    By one of those whimsical coincidences in which Nature, like a busy mother, seems to spare a moment from her unremitting labours to turn and make her children smile, the girl now dropped the cloak, and forth tumbled ropes of black hair over a red jacket. Oak knew her instantly as the heroine of the yellow waggon, myrtles, and looking-glass: prosily, as the woman who owed him twopence.
    They placed the calf beside its mother again, took up the lantern, and went out, the light sinking down the hill till it was no more than a nebula. Gabriel Oak returned to his flock. Yet, though his attention that night was fixed for the most part upon the ewes and their offspring, his lively fancy remained caught up with the image he had glimpsed of the nameless girl. The rosy bloom on her cheeks in the lantern light, her abundant raven hair, and her very youth and vigour called to an answering thrill of desire and pleasure deep within himself. Would she allow herself to be seen again, or was she merely a nymph of the night and shadow? And, should she appear again, what was the possibility that he, a humble farmer with few prospects, might chance to gain her acquaintance?
    The mind nimbly darts from possibility to probability, from probability to certainty, and it did not take long for Gabriel to close his eyes in anticipation of his lips pressed — ah, where? Not yet daring to imagine any spot upon her unseen body, nor even her soft and yielding lips, but chastely, as befits a gentleman, upon her hand. This image proving unsatisfactory to the sudden urgency he felt below, he was led into more fanciful imaginings yet — what lay beneath that red jacket? Was her figure well-formed and shapely? Where might his lips rest, if not upon the