Excerpt
Tap any word to look it up
When Farmer Oak smiled, the corners of his mouth spread till they were within an unimportant distance of his ears, his eyes were reduced to mere chinks, and diverging wrinkles appeared round them, extending upon his countenance like the rays in a rudimentary sketch of the rising sun.
His Christian name was Gabriel, and on working days he was a young man of sound judgment, easy motions, proper dress, and general good character. On Sundays he was a man of misty views, rather given to a postponing treatment of things, whose best clothes and seven-and-sixpenny umbrella were always hampering him: upon the whole, one who felt himself to occupy morally that vast middle space of Laodicean neutrality which lay between the Sacrament people of the parish and the drunken division of its inhabitants—that is, he went to church, but yawned privately by the time the congregation reached the Nicene creed, and thought of what there would be for dinner when he meant to be listening to the sermon. Or, to state his character as it stood in the scale of public opinion, when his friends and critics were in tantrums, he was considered rather a bad man; when they were pleased, he was rather a good man; when they were neither, he was a man whose moral colour was a kind of pepper-and-salt mixture.
Since he lived six times as many working-days as Sundays, Oak’s appearance in his old clothes was most peculiarly his own—the mental picture formed by his neighbours always presenting him as dressed in that way when their imaginations answered to the thought “Gabriel Oak.” He wore a low-crowned felt hat, spread out at the base by tight jamming upon the head for security in high winds, and a coat like Dr. Johnson’s; his lower extremities being encased in ordinary leather leggings and boots emphatically large, affording to each foot a roomy apartment so constructed that any wearer might stand in a river all day long and know nothing about it—their maker being a conscientious man who always endeavoured to compensate for any weakness in his cut by unstinted dimension and solidity.
Far from the Madding Crowd is also available as a synced audiobook: a real voice reads the text, each word highlighted as it’s spoken. Listen as an audiobook →
FAQ
Is Far from the Madding Crowd free to read online?
Yes. Read Far from the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy online free on typereader, in English - no signup needed. Tap any word for an instant translation while you read.
Is there an audiobook of Far from the Madding Crowd?
Yes - Far from the Madding Crowd has a word-synced audiobook: each word lights up as it is read aloud, so you can listen and follow the text.
What reading level is Far from the Madding Crowd?
Far from the Madding Crowd sits around CEFR C1. Because every word has a one-tap translation, it also works a level below C1 for learners of English.
typereader - the best way to learn English: read real books, tap any word to translate it, carried by word-synced audio. All books · Open the app →