Prev | Current Page 272 | Next

Buck, Charles Neville, 1879-1930

"A Pagan of the Hills"


They had put two-thirds of the journey behind them, when Alexander
suggested, "Let's rest hyar a spell. Hit's a right good place ter
pause an' eat a snack."
They stood on a pinnacle where time-corroded shoulders of sandstone
broke eruptively through the soil. In a cluster of paw-paw trees there
was a carpet of moss spread over ancient boulders, and off behind them
stretched the nobility of forests unspoiled; of oak and ash and poplar
and the mighty plumes of the pine. The crimson flower of the trumpet
flower trailed everywhere, and a mighty vista was spread from
foreground to horizon where the ashy purple of the last ridge merged
with the sky.
But for Jerry the chief beauty was all close at hand.
"Alexander," he said, with his heart in his eyes, "ye're ther purtiest
gal I ever seed--ther purtiest gal I reckon anybody ever seed."
The tease in her came to the surface. "Another feller likened me ter a
comet amongst small stars, Jerry."
"I reckon I kin hazard a guess who thet feller war," he answered
soberly. "There's only one man hyarabouts thet's got a gift of speech
like thet.


Pages:
260 261 262 263 264 265 266 267 268 269 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 277 278 279 280 281 282 283 284