小说园

第77部分（第3页）

She　came　to　school　in　the　morning　seeing　the　hawthorn　flowers

wet；　the　little；　rosy　grains　swimming　in　a　bowl　of　dew。　The

larks　quivered　their　song　up　into　the　new　sunshine；　and　the

country　was　so　glad。　It　was　a　violation　to　plunge　into　the　dust

and　greyness　of　the　town。

So　that　she　stood　before　her　class　unwilling　to　give　herself

up　to　the　activity　of　teaching；　to　turn　her　energy；　that　longed

for　the　country　and　for　joy　of　early　summer；　into　the　dominating

of　fifty　children　and　the　transferring　to　them　some　morsels　of

arithmetic。　There　was　a　little　absentness　about　her。　She　could

not　force　herself　into　forgetfulness。　A　jar　of　buttercups　and

fools…parsley　in　the　window…bottom　kept　her　away　in　the

meadows；　where　in　the　lush　grass　the　moon…daisies　were

half…submerged；　and　a　spray　of　pink　ragged　robin。　Yet　before　her

were　faces　of　fifty　children。　They　were　almost　like　big　daisies

in　a　dimness　of　the　grass。

A　brightness　was　on　her　face；　a　little　unreality　in　her

teaching。　She　could　not　quite　see　her　children。　She　was

struggling　between　two　worlds；　her　own　world　of　young　summer　and

flowers；　and　this　other　world　of　work。　And　the　glimmer　of　her

own　sunlight　was　between　her　and　her　class。

Then　the　morning　passed　with　a　strange　far…awayness　and

quietness。　Dinner…time　came；　when　she　and　Maggie　ate　joyously；

with　all　the　windows　open。　And　then　they　went　out　into　St。

Philips　churchyard；　where　was　a　shadowy　corner　under　red

hawthorn　trees。　And　there　they　talked　and　read　Shelley　or

Browning　or　some　work　about　〃Woman　and　Labour〃。

And　when　she　went　back　to　school；　Ursula　lived　still　in　the

shadowy　corner　of　the　graveyard；　where　pink…red　petals　lay

scattered　from　the　hawthorn　tree；　like　myriad　tiny　shells　on　a

beach；　and　a　church　bell　sometimes　rang　sonorously；　and

sometimes　a　bird　called　out；　whilst　Maggies　voice　went　on　low

and　sweet。

These　days　she　was　happy　in　her　soul：　oh；　she　was　so　happy；

that　she　wished　she　could　take　her　joy　and　scatter　it　in　armfuls

broadcast。　She　made　her　children　happy；　too；　with　a　little

tingling　of　delight。　But　to　her；　the　children　were　not　a　school

class　this　afternoon。　They　were　flowers；　birds；　little　bright

animals；　children；　anything。　They　only　were　not　Standard　Five。