Twenty One: Far From The Madding Crowd: Thomas Hardy - Reconciliation
The Upper Farm. The house of Bathsheba. Sunday afternoon. Joseph Poorgrass, Mathew Moon, Henery Fray and half a dozen others came running up. Bathsheba was coming out on her way to church; and ceasing for a moment, she pulled on her gloves with her red lips. "Sixty!" said Joseph Poorgrass. "Seventy!" said Moon. "Fifty-nine!" said Susan Tall's husband. "Sheep have broke fence," said Fray. "And got into a field of clover," said Tall. "Young clover," said Moon. "Clover," said Joseph Poorgrass. "And they be getting blasted," said Henery Fray. "That they be," said Joseph. "All will die as dead as door nits, if they baint got out and cured," said Tall. Joseph's countenance was drawn into lines and puckers by his concern. Fray'a forehead was wrinkled both perpendicularly and crosswise after the pattern of portcullis expressive of a big concern. Laban Tall's lips were th...