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Buck, Charles Neville, 1879-1930

"A Pagan of the Hills"

It did not
altogether please the men charged with this new duty to operate about
Perry Center. They would have preferred the wilder territory adjacent
either to Shoulder-blade creek or to Coal City, but the thing must be
accomplished and all matters are relative. If Perry Center lay in a
smoother country it was still mountain country and wild enough if one
were careful.
On an evening gorgeously alight with a full moon, Jerry came to the
McGivins' house as was his custom. These were times when he did not
have to consider sharing the right of way with a rival, and he was
availing himself of his undisputed respite.
Shadows of deep purple-blue lay everywhere like velvet islands in the
silver flood of the moon's radiance. Through the timbered slopes came
the soft cadences of the night's minstrels--the voices of frogs and
katydids and the plaintive call of the whippoorwills.
Alexander had been deeply reflective as she sat with her lovely chin
resting on one hand, listening to the low-pitched voice in which her
lover was pleading his cause.
"I kain't be sure--not yit," was her uncertain response to all his
argument.


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