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Updated: May 20, 2025
There's something there." "Ay;" he assented. "There med bae soomthing. Sall we goa oop t' fealds?" The Three Fields looked over the back of Upthorne Farm. Naked and gray, the great stone barn looked over the Three Fields. A narrow track led to it, through the gaps, slantwise, from the gate of the mistal. Above the fields the barren, ruined hillside ended and the moor began.
I fully sympathize with Tennyson's, Northern Farmer, Old Style: "But summon 'ull come ater meä mayhap wi' 'is kittle o' steäm Huzzin' an' maäzin' the blessed feälds wi' the Devil's oän teäm"; for, except on a large farm with immense fields, the ponderous and ungainly steam, tackle gives one a sensation of intrusion.
"'Tis Nad, wi' t' dawg, drivin' t' sheep." "Oh, Jim, he'll see us." "Nat he!" But he drew her behind the shelter of the barn. "He'll come down the fields. He'll be sure to see us." "Ef he doos, caann't I walk in my awn fealds wi' my awn sweetheart?" "I don't want to be seen," she moaned. "Wall ?" he pushed open the door of the barn. "Wae'll creep in here than, tall he's paassed."
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