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A wind sprang high in the west, like a wave of unreasonable happiness, and toreeastward across England, trailing with it the frosty scent of forests and the coldintoxication of the sea. In a million holes and corners it refreshed a man like aflagon, and astonished him like a blow. In the inmost chambers of intricate andembowered houses it woke like a domestic explosion, littering the floor with someprofessor's papers till they seemed as precious as fugitive, or blowing out thecandle by which a boy read Treasure Island and wrapping him in roaring dark. Buteverywhere it bore drama into undramatic lives, and carried the trump of crisisacross the world. Many a harassed mother in a mean backyard had looked at fivedwarfish shirts on the clothes-line as at some small, sick tragedy; it was as if shehad hanged her five children. The wind came, and they were full and kicking as iffive fat imps had sprung into them; and far down in her oppressed subconsciousshe half-remembered those coarse comedies of her fathers when the elves stilldwelt in the homes of men. Many an unnoticed girl in a dank walled garden hadtossed herself into the hammock with the same intolerant gesture with which shemight have tossed herself into the Thames; and that wind rent the waving wall ofwoods and lifted the hammock like a balloon, and showed her shapes of quaintclouds far beyond, and pictures of bright villages far below, as if she rode heaven ina fairy boat. Many a dusty clerk or cleric, plodding a telescopic road of poplars, thought for the hundredth time that they were like the plumes of a hearse; whenthis invisible energy caught and swung and clashed them round his head like awreath or salutation of seraphic wings. There was in it something more inspiredand authoritative even than the old wind of the proverb; for this was the good windthat blows nobody harm

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