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Fox, John, 1863-1919

"The Trail of the Lonesome Pine"

She could not understand how
they could walk along, heedless of the wonderful visions that
beckoned to her from the shop-windows; fearless of the strange
noises about them and scarcely noticing the great crowds of
people, or the strange shining vehicles that thronged the streets.
But she had quickly concluded that it was one of the demands of
that new life to see little and be astonished at nothing, and
Helen and Hale surprised in turn at her unconcern, little
suspected the effort her self-suppression cost her. And when over
some wonder she did lose herself, Hale would say:
"Just wait till you see New York!" and June would turn her dark
eyes to Helen for confirmation and to see if Hale could be joking
with her.
"It's all true, June," Helen would say. "You must go there some
day. It's true." But that town was enough and too much for June.
Her head buzzed continuously and she could hardly sleep, and she
was glad when one afternoon they took her into the country again--
the Bluegrass country--and to the little town near which Hale had
been born, and which was a dream-city to June, and to a school of
which an old friend of his mother was principal, and in which
Helen herself was a temporary teacher.


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