The Reaping Race

  • A. A. Kelly


At dawn the reapers were already in the rye field. It was the big rectangular field owned by James McDara, the retired engineer. The field started on the slope of a hill and ran down gently to the sea-road that was covered with sand. It was bound by a low stone fence and the yellow heads of the rye-stalks leaned out over the fence all round in a thick mass, jostling and crushing one another as the morning breeze swept over them with a swishing sound.


Thick Mass Midday Meal Oaten Bread Intense Thirst Masculine Voice 
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Copyright information

© Liam O’Flaherty 1999

Authors and Affiliations

  • A. A. Kelly

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