e only:

'Why, all is happy! Not a worm that crawls,
Or grasshopper that chirps about the grass,
Or beetle basking on the sunny walls,
Or mail-clad fly that skims the face of glass
The river wears in summer;--not a bird
That sings the tranquil glory of the fields,
Or single sight is seen or sound is heard,
But some new pleasure to my full soul yields!'

Paul, standing there in the darkness, whispered this many times as if
struck with awe by it, and indeed the boy wondered, and thought it an
inspiration.

'That is poetry,' said Paul 'I am a poet--a poet--a poet!'

He fell on his knees, with his face on his hands in the open quoin
drawer, feeling as if he had uttered a blasphemy. How long he was there
he never knew, but he was disturbed by the grating of a door below, and
his father's voice called up the stairs:

'Paul! Where are ye?'

'Here, father,' Paul answered

A sob met his voice half-way, and Armstrong came stumbling up the
stairs.

'What's the matter, lad?' he asked, in a tone between concern and
impatience.

'Nothing,' said Paul.

'Why is't ye're here alaun?' his father demanded 'And whaur have ye been
the livelong day? And what are ye cryin' for?

'Nothing,' said Paul again.

'Ye're not such a fule,' said Armstrong, 'as to be cryin' an' hidin' for
naething, an' I'm not such a fule as to believe it.'

He paused, but Paul made no reply. The old man struck a lucifer match
and lit the gas. The boy stood blinking in the light, his face stained
with tears, his eyelids red and a little swollen. To the father's eye he
looked sullen and defiant Of course he was neither, but he was entirely
hopeless of being understood, and therefore helpless to explain.

'Noo, Paul,' said Armstrong, with a severity which he felt to be
justified, 'I'm goin' to the bottom o' this business. Ye've absented
yourself the haul day from the House o' God. Ye've not been seen since
morning's light, and it's nigh-hand on midnight Whaur _have_ ye been?
Answer me that at once, sir.'

'In the Hoarstone Fields,' said Paul.

'And wha's been with ye, helping ye to desecrate God's day?'

'Nobody, father. I've been by myself all the while.'

'And what's been your work, my lad?' There was silence, and the silence
began to have a threat in it 'I'm goin' to the bottom o' this affeer,
Paul,' said the father. He meant that honestly, but he was not taking
the right way. 'I'm not to b