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Updated: May 27, 2025
The sound of its crackle and hiss and roar was deafening. The twigs, dry and dead, caught fire from the surrounding blaze of moss, and communicated their flame to the thicker branches and to the tree's towering summit. And thus the fierce vividness of blazing wood was added to the lighter glare of the inflammable moss. The spectacle was incredibly beautiful, but still more awesome and terrifying.
The newspaper reporters at Albany were well acquainted with Mr. Tree's name while they were putting into short-hand the doings of the Legislature. Mrs. Formica had no suspicion that Lily was the cause of Osgood's disappearance; she would not have regretted his absence so much on these grounds, for a match with Lily was not desirable. Within a month Lily's engagement to Mr.
Covered by the tree's thickness and the shadow that it threw, with his neck extended, his eyes and ears on the alert, the serf took his long forester's knife between his teeth and waited.
One tree's 'bout 's busy as another, as fur 's I can see." "Wall, there is kind of a meanin' in it to me, but it'sturrible far fetched," remarked Jabe Slocum, rather sleepily.
The snare is broken and I am escaped." For answer the boy pulled her eagerly to the window and pointed to a young pine-tree that stood near the house. "Sister, that tree's just as old as I be. I've prayed to God, and I've promised myself that before it's as tall, as the ridge-pole of the house, I'll be on my way."
I'll have Tod hitch up at the first peep of the moon; he can load your stuff on in twenty minutes. Helen added her voice to Alan's. Longstreet's eyes travelled out to the listless figure against the pepper tree. At the moment Barbee's silhouette disengaged itself from the tree's shadowy trunk and started up the road. 'All right, said Longstreet.
From the pioneer time of the Old Southwest to the last frontier of the Far North today, the service berry is cherished alike by white men and Indians; and the red men have woven about it some of their prettiest legends. When June had ripened the tree's blue-black berries, the Back Country folk went out in parties to gather them.
The sigh of the wind seemed to be for his peculiar ear. The nod of the saugh leaf on the banks was a salutation. There is, in a flutter of the tree's young plumage, some hint of communication whose secret we lose as we age, and the boy, among it, felt the warmth of companionship. But the sights were for the errant moments of his mind; his thoughts, most of the way, were on his message.
Grossetto does her utmost to hide the secret of this tree's existence, as if a hard, matter-of-fact place ought to be ashamed of a sentimentality of the kind.
We did not make the next highest force, vegetative life. That masters gravitation, and lifts up the tree in spite of it; masters cohesion the tree's rootlets tear asunder the particles of stone; masters chemical affinity it takes the oxygen from air and water. We did not create that force, measureless to our minds. We say it must have come out of some omnipotence greater than all of them.
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