News from Nowhere; Or, An Epoch of Rest: Being Some Chapters from a Utopian RomanceMorris, William
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News from Nowhere; Or, An Epoch of Rest: Being Some Chapters from a Utopian Romance
Morris, William
Utopias
Though there were no rough noises to wake me, I could not lie long abed
the next morning, where the world seemed so well awake, and, despite the
old grumbler, so happy; so I got up, and found that, early as it was,
someone had been stirring, since all was trim and in its place in the
little parlour, and the table laid for the morning meal. Nobody was
afoot in the house as then, however, so I went out a-doors, and after a
turn or two round the superabundant garden, I wandered down over the
meadow to the river-side, where lay our boat, looking quite familiar and
friendly to me. I walked up stream a little, watching the light mist
curling up from the river till the sun gained power to draw it all away;
saw the bleak speckling the water under the willow boughs, whence the
tiny flies they fed on were falling in myriads; heard the great chub
splashing here and there at some belated moth or other, and felt almost
back again in my boyhood. Then I went back again to the boat, and
loitered there a minute or two, and then walked slowly up the meadow
towards the little house. I noted now that there were four more houses
of about the same size on the slope away from the river. The meadow in
which I was going was not up for hay; but a row of flake-hurdles ran up
the slope not far from me on each side, and in the field so parted off
from ours on the left they were making hay busily by now, in the simple
fashion of the days when I was a boy. My feet turned that way
instinctively, as I wanted to see how haymakers looked in these new and
better times, and also I rather expected to see Ellen there. I came to
the hurdles and stood looking over into the hay-field, and was close to
the end of the long line of haymakers who were spreading the low ridges
to dry off the night dew. The majority of these were young women clad
much like Ellen last night, though not mostly in silk, but in light
woollen mostly gaily embroidered; the men being all clad in white flannel
embroidered in bright colours. The meadow looked like a gigantic tulip-
bed because of them. All hands were working deliberately but well and
steadily, though they were as noisy with merry talk as a grove of autumn
starlings. Half a dozen of them, men and women, came up to me and shook
hands, gave me the sele of the morning, and asked a few questions as to
whence and whither, and wishing me good luck, went back to their work.
Ellen, to my disappointment, was not amongst them, but presently I saw a
light figure come out of the hay-field higher up the slope, and make for
our house; and that was Ellen, holding a basket in her hand. But before
she had come to the garden gate, out came Dick and Clara, who, after a
minute's pause, came down to meet me, leaving Ellen in the garden; then
we three went down to the boat, talking mere morning prattle. We stayed
there a little, Dick arranging some of the matters in her, for we had
only taken up to the house such things as we thought the dew might
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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