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Fox, John, 1863-1919

"The Trail of the Lonesome Pine"


"Them Falins have got kinsfolks to burn on the Virginia side and
they'd fight me tooth and toenail for this a hundred years hence!"
He puffed his pipe, but Hale said nothing.
"Yes, sir," he added cheerily, "we're in for a hell of a merry
time NOW. The mountaineer hates as long as he remembers and--he
never forgets."


XV

Hand in hand, Hale and June followed the footsteps of spring from
the time June met him at the school-house gate for their first
walk into the woods. Hale pointed to some boys playing marbles.
"That's the first sign," he said, and with quick understanding
June smiled.
The birdlike piping of hylas came from a marshy strip of woodland
that ran through the centre of the town and a toad was croaking at
the foot of Imboden Hill.
"And they come next."
They crossed the swinging foot-bridge, which was a miracle to
June, and took the foot-path along the clear stream of South Fork,
under the laurel which June called "ivy," and the rhododendron
which was "laurel" in her speech, and Hale pointed out catkins
greening on alders in one swampy place and willows just blushing
into life along the banks of a little creek.


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