Country Life
A FEW years ago when a relative, borne from South Africa, came to stay with us, often found him sitting beneath the trees in the glen with an expression of great con- tent on his face. " You can have no idea," he told me, " what a wonderful thing it is to me to sit here and listen to the leaves." In his part of South Africa there were few trees and little relief in the endless veldt. Unless one is something of an artist, it is not often that the simple background things 'of the country- side—the rustling of leaves or the colour of grass rejuvenated by autumn rain—strike one as beauty in itself, a thing to be admired as much as a sunset or a rainbow. To one who has been away in a foreign climate, the sight of whitewashed farms and the smoke from cottage chimneys can be a real solace.
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