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 205 | Next

Fox, John, 1863-1919

"The Trail of the Lonesome Pine"

His word is just as good as his bond. I'm a-goin'
to sell him this land. It'll be his'n, an' he can do what he wants
to with it. I'm his friend, and I'm goin' to stay his friend as
long as he goes on as he's goin' now, an' I'm not goin' to see him
bothered as long as he tends to his own business."
The words fell slowly and the weight of them rested heavily on all
except on June. Her fingers loosened and she smiled.
The Red Fox rose, shaking his head.
"All right, Judd Tolliver," he said warningly.
"Come in and git something to eat, Red."
"No," he said, "I'll be gittin' along"--and he went, still shaking
his head.
The table was covered with an oil-cloth spotted with drippings
from a candle. The plates and cups were thick and the spoons were
of pewter. The bread was soggy and the bacon was thick and
floating in grease. The men ate and the women served, as in
ancient days. They gobbled their food like wolves, and when they
drank their coffee, the noise they made was painful to June's
ears. There were no napkins and when her father pushed his chair
back, he wiped his dripping mouth with the back of his sleeve.


Pages:
193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217