And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barnsAbout the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,In the sun that is young once only...
Dylan Thomas, Fern HillWhen Lucy woke, the room was already light. The curtains were not drawn andthe pane of the open casement reflected a gleam of sun which she could lose andfind by moving her head on the pillow. A wood pigeon was calling in the elms. Butit was some other sound, she knew, that had woken her -- a sharp sound, a part ofthe dream which had drained away, as she woke, like water out of a washbasin.
Perhaps the dog had barked. But now everything was quiet and there was only theflash of sun from the windowpane and the sound of the wood pigeon, like the firststrokes of a paint brush on a big sheet of paper when you were still not sure howthe picture was going to go. The morning was fine. Would there be anymushrooms yet? Was it worth getting up now and going down the field to see? Itwas still too dry and hot -- not good mushroom weather. The mushrooms werelike the blackberries -- both wanted a drop of rain before they'd be any good.
Soon there'd be damp mornings and the big spiders would come in the hedges --the ones with a white cross on their backs. Jane Pocock running off to the back ofthe schoolbus when she brought one in a matchbox to show Miss Tallant.
Spider, spider on the bus,Soppy Jane that made a fuss,Spider got th' eleven-plus.
Now she couldn't catch the reflection in her eyes any more. The sun hadmoved. What was going to happen today? Thursday -- market day in Newbury.
Dad would be going in. Doctor was coming to see Mum. Doctor had funny glassesthat pinched on his nose. They'd made a mark each side. If he wasn't in a hurryhe'd talk to her. Doctor was a bit funny-like when you didn't know him, but whenyou did he was nice.
Suddenly there was another sharp sound. It ripped through the still, earlymorning like something spilled across a clean floor -- a squealing -- somethingfrightened, something desperate. Lucy jumped out of bed and ran across to thewindow. Whatever it was, it was only just outside. She leaned well out, with herfeet off the floor and the sill pressing breathlessly across her stomach. Tab wasdown below, right by the kennel. He'd got something: rat it must be, squealinglike that.
"Tab!" called Lucy sharply. "Tab! Wha' you got?"At the sound of her voice the cat looked up for a moment and immediatelylooked back again at its prey. 'T'weren't no rat, though; 't'was a rabbit, layin' onits side by the kennel. It looked proper bad. Kicking out an' all. Then it squealedagain.
Lucy ran down the stairs in her nightdress and opened the door. The gravelmade her hobble and she left it and went on up the flower bed. As she reached thekennel the cat looked up and spat at her, keeping one paw pressed down on therabbit's neck.
"Git out, Tab!" said Lucy. "Crool thing! Let'n alone!"She cuffed the cat, which tried to scratch her, ears laid flat. She raised her handagain and it growled, ran a few feet and stopped, looking back in sulky rage. Lucypicked up the rabbit. It struggled a moment and then held itself tense in her firmgrip.
"'Old still!" said Lucy. "I ain't goin' 'urtcher!"She went back to the house, carrying the rabbit.
"What you bin up to, eh?" said her father, boots scratch-scratch over the tiles.
"Look at yore feet! En I told you -- Wha' got there, then?""Rabbit," said Lucy defensively.
"In yer nightdress an' all, catch yore bloomin' death. Wha' want with 'im,then?""Goner keep 'im.""You ain't!""Ah, Dad. 'E's nice.""'E won't be no bloomin' good t'yer. You put 'im in 'utch 'e'll only die. You can'tkeep woild rabbit. 'N if 'e gets out 'e'll do all manner o' bloomin' 'arm.""But 'e's bad, Dad. Cat's bin at 'im.""Cat was doin' 'is job, then. Did oughter've let 'im finish be roights.""I wanner show 'im to Doctor.""Doctor's got summin' better to do than bide about wi' old rabbit. You jus' give'im 'ere, now."Lucy began to cry. She had not lived all her life on a farm for nothing and sheknew very well that everything her father had said was right. But she was upset bythe idea of killing the rabbit in cold blood. True, she did not really know what shecould do with it in the long run. What she wanted was to show it to Doctor. Sheknew that Doctor thought of her as a proper farm girl -- a country girl. When sheshowed him things she had found -- a goldfinch's egg, a Painted Lady fluttering ina jam jar or a fungus that looked exactly like orange peel -- he took her seriouslyand talked to her as he would to a grown-up person. To ask his advice about adamaged rabbit and discuss it with him would be very grown-up. Meanwhile, herfather might give way or he might not.
"I on'y jus............