In the Country
WELL now, take a seat in the train and ride off in any direction, humming a tune to the rattling of the wheels. There will parade the Streets of the Vast Number, the cupolas of gasworks, cross-roads of railway-tracks, factories, grave yards; now strips of green intrude upon the endless city, you see the tramway terminus, quiet suburbs, green grass and the first sheep bowed down to the earth in nature’s eternal ceremony of feeding. And then, another half-hour, and you are outside the greatest city in the world; you alight at a small station where hospitable people are waiting for you, and you are in the English country.
Where are you to pick words fine enough to portray the quiet and verdant charms of
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