INNOCENT

The old by-road went rambling down into a dell of deep green shadow. It was a reprobate of a road,-a vagrant of the land,-having long ago wandered out of straight and even courses and taken to meandering aimlessly into many ruts and furrows under arching trees, which in wet weather poured their weight of dripping rain upon it and made it little more than a mud pool. Between straggling bushes of elder and hazel, blackberry and thorn, it made its solitary shambling way, so sunken into itself with long disuse that neither to the right nor to the left of it could anything be seen of the surrounding country. Hidden behind the intervening foliage on either hand were rich pastures and ploughed fields, but with these the old road had nothing in common. There were many things better suited to its nature, such as the melodious notes of the birds which made their homes year after year amid its bordering thickets, or the gathering together in springtime of thousands of primroses, whose pale, small, elfin faces peeped out from every mossy corner,-or the scent of secret violets in the grass, filling the air with the delicate sweetness of a breathing made warm by the April sun.

I found this in project Gutenberg and felt that l should share it with those who have never read it before. it's a beautiful book and l wish you would all find time to read it. It's not mine just felt the need for someone else to enjoy the story like l did. Here is the synopsis: