Greene Ferne Farm by Richard Jefferies

Baa -- baa! A long-drawn pettish bleating that sometimes sounded absurdly like the "Ma -- ma! " of a spoilt child. The lambs gambolled in the genial sunshine over the daisies; the ewes, arrived at the age of common sense, fed steadily on the young sweet grass, and did not notice the flowers.

Geoffrey Newton looked at them from the other side of the hedge, where indeed he had no business to be. He had carelessly wandered in a daydream from the footpath, and was now in the midst of mowing-grass, to walk in which is against the unwritten laws of country life, because when trampled down it is difficult to mow. Yet there is a great pleasure in pushing through it, tall grasses and bennets and sorrel stems reaching to the knee -- the very dogs delight in it. See a spaniel just let loose; how he circles round, plunging over it! -- visible as he bounds up, lost to sight next moment in the matted mass; the higher it is the more he likes it.