"Liberty's a glorious feast." With this quotation begins a story in which it appears that in the three generations of the Freelands, mother, four sons, grandchildren, flourish all the elements of conservatism and revolt against the existing order which allows the petty tyranny of the English land system. Derek, the young grandson, is the leading spirit for the peasants in rebellion against this particular case of petty tyranny and is tragically unsuccessful. His love for his cousin, beautifully portrayed, lightens the story and gives promise for a brighter future for him in some newer land where there seems to be more possibility of enjoying the "glorious feast."
age amongst fruit-trees, high above the road, a youth with black hair and pale-brown face stood beside a girl with frizzy brown hair and cheeks like poppies.
"Have you had that notice?"
The laborer answered slowly:
"Yes, Mr. Derek. If she don't go, I've got to."
"What a d--d shame!"
The laborer moved his head, as though he would have spoken, but no words came.
"Don't do anything, Bob. We'll see about that."
"Evenin', Mr. Derek. Evenin', Miss Sheila," and the laborer moved on.
The two at the wicket gate also turned away. A black-haired woman dressed in blue came to the wicket gate in their place. There seemed no purpose in her standing there; it was perhaps an evening custom, some ceremony such as Moslems observe at the muezzin-call. And any one who saw her would have wondered what on earth she might be seeing, gazing out with her dark glowing eyes above the white, grass-bordered roads stretching empty this way and that between the elm-trees and green fields; while the blackbirds a