Forty Four: Far From The Madding Crowd: Thomas Hardy: Under A Tree
Bathsheba went along the dark road, neither knowing nor caring about the direction. She reached a gate leading into a thicket overhung by large oak and beech trees. It occurred to her that she had seen it by daylight on some previous occasion, and that it was brake of fern , now withering fast. She could think of nothing better to do with her palpitating self, than to hide here. She found a reclining trunk, where she sank down upon a tangled couch of fronds and stems. The night passed. Bathsheba was not sure whether she slept. But after a long interval she became conscious of her surroundings. She was in a secluded place. A course throated chatter of a sparrow, followed by "Chee- weeze-weeze-weeze!" from another retreat. It was a finch. Third: "Tink-tink-tink-a-chink!" from the hedge. It was a robin. "Chuk-chuk-chuk!" overhead. A squirrel. Then, from the road, "With my ra-ta-ta and my rum-tum-tum!" It was a ploughbo...