uns, or puzzles to make out what birds they can
be that peck the ripening peas out of the pods, or estimates the yield
of oats to the acre by counting the sheaves that he stacks, or examines
the lawn to see what kinds of grass are thriving. About all such matters
his talk is the talk of an experienced man habitually interested in his
subject, and yet it is never obtrusive. The remarks fall from him
casually; you feel, too, that while he is telling you something that he
noticed yesterday or years ago his eyes are alert to seize any new
detail that may seem worthy of attention. Details are always really his
subject, for the generalizations he sometimes offers are built on the
flimsiest foundation of but one or two observed facts. But I am not now
concerned with the value of his observations for themselves; the point
is that to him they are so interesting. He is a man who seems to enjoy
his life with an undiminished zest from morning to night. It is doubtful
if the working hours afford, to nine out of ten modern and even
"educated" men, such a constant refreshment of acceptable incidents as
Turner's hours bring to him.

He is perhaps the best specimen of the old stock now left in the valley;
but it must not be thought that he is singular. Others there are not
very unlike him; and all that one hears of them goes to prove that the
old cottage thrift, whatever its limitations may have been, did at least
make the day's work interesting enough to a man, without his needing to
care about leisure evenings. Turner, for his part, does not value them
at all. In the winter he is often in bed before seven o'clock.

XVI

THE OBSTACLES

Keeping this old-fashioned kind of life in mind as we turn again to the
modern labourer's existence, we see at once where the change has come
in, and why leisure, from being of small account, has become of so great
importance. It is the amends due for a deprivation that has been
suffered. Unlike the industry of a peasantry, commercial wage-earning
cannot satisfy the cravings of a man's soul at the same time that it
occupies his body, cannot exercise many of his faculties or appeal to
many of his tastes; and therefore, if he would have any profit, any
enjoyment, of his own human nature, he must contrive to get it in his
leisure time.

In illustration of this position, I will take the case--it is fairly
typical--of the coal-carter mentioned in the last chapter. He is about
twenty-five years o