swamp-loam

Updated: May 22, 2025

Juist prime!" he said. Sarah Duncan stood alone in the middle of her two-roomed log cabin and lifted a bony, clawlike pair of hands, reddened by frequent immersion in hot water, cracked and chafed by exposure to cold, black-lined by constant battle with swamp-loam, calloused with burns, and stared at them wonderingly. "Pretty-lookin' things ye are!" she whispered. "But ye hae juist been kissed.

Gene Stratton-Porter - Freckles