SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 107 | Next

Fox, John, 1863-1919

"The Trail of the Lonesome Pine"

Her father was out feeding the stock and she could
hear her step-mother in the kitchen. Bub still slept soundly, and
she shook him by the shoulder.
"Git up, Bub."
"Go 'way," said Bub fretfully. Again she started to shake him but
stopped--Bub wasn't going to the Gap, so she let him sleep. For a
little while she looked down at him--at his round rosy face and
his frowsy hair from under which protruded one dirty fist. She was
going to leave him, and a fresh tenderness for him made her breast
heave, but she did not kiss him, for sisterly kisses are hardly
known in the hills. Then she went out into the kitchen to help her
step-mother.
"Gittin' mighty busy, all of a sudden, ain't ye," said the sour
old woman, "now that ye air goin' away."
"'Tain't costin' you nothin'," answered June quietly, and she
picked up a pail and went out into the frosty, shivering daybreak
to the old well. The chain froze her fingers, the cold water
splashed her feet, and when she had tugged her heavy burden back
to the kitchen, she held her red, chapped hands to the fire.
"I reckon you'll be mighty glad to git shet o' me.


Pages:
95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119