United States or Ireland ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
As spring opened, she shook herself, arose, and went to work. It was not planned, systematic, effective, Bates work. Piecemeal she did anything she saw needed the doing. The children helped to make garden and clean the yard. Then all of them went out to Aunt Ollie's and made a contract to plant and raise potatoes and vegetables on shares.
Ollie's eyes were red and swollen from recent weeping, her face was mottled from her tears. Much trouble had made her careless of late of her prettiness, and now she was disheveled, her apron awry around her waist, her hair mussed, her whole aspect one of slovenly disregard. Her depression was so great that Joe was moved to comfort her. "You've got a hard time of it," said he.
Hammer held it open for her and gave her the comfort of his hand under her elbow as she went forward to take her place. A stir and a whispering, like a quick wind in a cornfield, moved over the room when Ollie's name was called. Then silence ensued. It was more than a mere listening silence; it was impertinent.
Morgan was secure in her heart without sacrifice. Well, tomorrow they would bury Isom, and that would end it. Joe would be set free then, she thought, the future would be clear. So reasoning, she went to sleep in peace. Ollie's habit of early rising during the past year of her busy life made it impossible for her to sleep after daylight.
Joe lifted his feet like an Indian, toes turned in a bit, and this method of walking made it appear as if he stalked something, for he moved without noise. He had dropped his scythe with the apple, his eyes held Ollie's swinging bonnet as he approached it as if it were some rare bird which he hoped to steal upon and take.
The jurymen, tired and unshaved, and over the momentary thrill of Ollie's disclosure, lolled and sprawled in the box. It seemed that they now accepted the thing as settled, and the prospect of further waiting was boresome.
Ollie promised to do as she was told and kissing her mother good-by she ran down-stairs. She found Lucy standing by the fence, looking over into Mr. Beech's yard. Mr. Beech lived next to Ollie's papa, and he had one little girl. Every one called her "Chubby," because she was so plump and round. "Lucy," called Ollie, "what are you doing?" "Come here a minute," said Lucy.
Joe's face flushed with resentful fire; but Ollie's white calm, forced and strained that it was, remained unchanged. "No, sir; he never did." "Did he ever kiss you?" "No, I tell you, he didn't!" Ollie answered, with a little show of spirit. Hammer rose with loud and voluble objections, which had, for the first time during the proceedings, Joe's hearty indorsement.
It was only a quarter of a mile from Ollie's house to the water, and it did not take long to get over the ground which lay between. Ollie was never tired of the ocean, and it was a rare thing for her to let a day pass without spending some time on the shore.
Joe felt small and young in Ollie's presence, due to the fact that she was older by a year at least than himself. That feeling of littleness had been one of his peculiarities as long as he could remember when there were others about older than himself, and supposed from that reason to be graver and wiser.
Word Of The Day