Country Life
THE scythe had been left on the patch of long grass at the end of the garden at the cottage. I was told about it as soon as it was remembered, and made a special journey to put the implement under cover. After all, it was new and it would rust. I wandered up the path and through the gate, admiring the wallflowers that have grown wild every- where and wondering if anything could ever stop the march of the valerian plant which covers more ground every year. It was a while before I thought of the scythe. It had been taken to the grass with the object of making that area a bit tidier. 1 picked it up and made a few tentative sweeps with the blade, but it was too warm for me to do anything in earnest. A young rabbit sprang from its bed almost at my feet and darted into the bank. I thought about the rabbits and wire-netting and I was back at the car before it struck me that I had left the scythe precisely where 1 had found it ! My second walk up through the garden was purposeful. The scythe was carried to the potting shed and locked away.
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