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The cottonwoods whispered in the dawn-wind, the spring beneath the milk-house talked and murmured. Out in the big corrals the cattle were beginning to stir and bawl. In the kitchen old Anita and young Paula had breakfast waiting for the men. Deep in that dim south room where the pale Virgin kept watch and ward, Kenset of the foothills slept in healing peace.
On his right front humped the knoll, an islet set in a sea of turf, now only tenanted by dark sycamores, ruffling it in the dawn-wind. Beneath him the greensward ran away to the shingle-bank. Beyond the crest of it, the mast of the lugger pricked up black against the sparkling water.
Then I dropped back to all the happiness I'd had that day, an' the last thing I knew I was lookin' into Barbie's eyes an' wonderin' what made her face so pink. It was the cold, gray dawn-wind that woke me up. That was a summer I love to think over; but the' wasn't nothin' happened to tell about.
The Shingle grinding along the shore, When they dragged his war-boats down to the sea; The dawn-wind whistling his spears among. And the magic song of his ministrels three. Whereby you may know, if you consider it rightly, what great strain of influence flows in from the Great Plain and the Land of Youth, that may yet help towards the salvation of Europe.
Lucy listened for the first long breaths of sleep, and seemed to hear them, just as the dawn was showing itself, and the dawn-wind was pushing at the curtains. But she herself did not sleep. This young creature lying beside her, with her full passionate life, seemed to have absolutely absorbed her own. She felt and saw with Helena.
"Rotten!" said Bobby, as a shell sang over the parapet and burst in the wood behind. Kaiser or no Kaiser, Major Wagstaffe's extravagant analogy held good. Between six and seven next morning, the Battalion, which had stood to arms all night, lifted up its heavy head and sniffed the misty dawn-wind an east wind dubiously.
In it the dawn-wind blew up little spirals of dust; and it was so quiet, that when a scrap of paper was whirled into the air, I heard the littering noise it made before it started on its flight. The sky was of exquisite purity, pale as milk, with a very faint flush of rose behind the church.
As soon as it was light enough to see I was for crawling into this little cavern. But Agathemer restrained me. "The face of the rock," he said, "would feel cold as ice to your skin. You have, even if you do not realize it, somewhat warmed the leaves next you. For the present we are least uncomfortable where we are. The dawn-wind cannot get at our hides while we are under these leaves. Keep still."
Dickie Lang was poised in the bow like a figurehead, one foot resting on the rail. Her hair, jerked from her cap by the fingers of the dawn-wind, streamed out behind her in a shower of dull red gold. Her eyes were shining with the joy of the chase. "He's almost at the turn," she called back. "He'll never make it on an outgoing tide. He's got to slow up. If he does, we've got him. If he doesn't "
Old Ding-dong saw it too. He raised his head. The moonlight was on his face, and the hand in Kit's quivered. "Them's my colours," he whispered. "I never struck em." The dawn-wind blowing chilly on the boy's skin roused him. All night he had slept like a child far from the world and its terrible distresses. The weary body had brought peace to the worn mind.
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