Love Among The Haystacks by D H Lawrence Chapter 2 Page 4

They all sat round the white spread, in the shadow of the tree and the stack, and looked out up the fields as they ate. From their shady coolness, the gold sward seemed liquid, molten with heat. The horse with the empty wagon wandered a few yards, then stood feeding. Everything was still as a trance. Now and again, the horse between the shafts of the load that stood propped beside the stack, jingled his loose bit as he ate. The men ate and drank in silence, the father reading the newspaper, Maurice leaning back on a saddle, Henry reading the Nation, the others eating busily.

Presently “Helloa! ‘Er’s ‘ere again!” exclaimed Bill. All looked up. Paula was coming across the field carrying a plate.

“She’s bringing something to tempt your appetite, Maurice,”