Thirty Six: Far From The Madding Crowd: Thomas Hardy - The Wedding Celebration
Towards the end of August. Night. Bathshebs was still a novice in her married life. Dry and sultry weather. A man stood motionless in the stackyard of Weatherbury Upper Farm looking at the moon and sky. The night had a sinister aspect. A hot breeze from the south slowly fanned the summits of lofty objects, and broken clouds were sailing in the breeze. The moon had a lurid metallic look. The fields were sallow; the sheep had trailed homeward, the rooks were confused. A long rain was expected. The end of harvesting season. Oak looked without disbelief at the ricks in the open space. He went on to the barn. This was the night chosen by sergeant Troy for giving harvest supper and dance. As Oak approached the building, the sounds of violins, and a tambourine, and the regular jigs of many feet grew more distinct. He came close to the large doors, one of which stood slightly ajar, and looked in. The central space together with t...