COUNTRY LIFE
ON the country-bus everyone knows everyone else, and when it is crowded friends converse over the heads of other passengers. At times things become involved. I sat in the bus listening, for I was probably the only out-of-parish traveller. A woman at the back told a friend at the front how her small daughter had come through an illness. A man on a -seat across the gangway fondled the ears of a collie that crouched at his feet, and talked to the conductor about the improve- ment of a football-pitch in his village; and the conductor took fares and asked after relatives of passengers between making comments on football and parish councils. It was a happy journey. My neighbour remarked on the luck of a particular farmer at lambing time, and then looked harder at me. He was a little put out to find that I was a stranger, but put matters right by asking if 1 had had any luck with my rod. I felt that a weekly trip might bring me into a circle of bus-travellers who, if they are not all related, behave as though they are neighbours and crowd one another on the seats, managing packages and children with smiles and sympathy.
Previous page
