Inspiration
An enthusiasm for tidying up took me and I hurried down to the shed for the hedging knife with which I could clear a great patch
of briar and thorn that has somehow been stealing uphill to surround the long-empty fowlhouse. In a little while I had hacked and slashed my way several yards along the slope and had a great mound of cut thorn tumbling in front of me. I was a pioneer, a clearer of brush and jungle, until a small voice enquired what I proposed to do with this mountain, so full of thorns and tentacles anxious to attach themselves to jacket and trousers. Some- times inspiration comes to me suddenly. I smiled. My whole idea in cutting it down had been to make the children a bonfire on the Fifth. I felt very proud at my resourcefulness and ;,11 little while I actually began to believe that I had started with that intention.
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