She was fat and black,
hooded and aproned, with great round head and massive bosom. Her face
was dull and heavy and homely, her old eyes sorrowful. She moved
swiftly, carrying a basket on her arm. Opposite her, to the southward,
but too far for sight, an old man came out of the lower Cresswell place,
skirting the swamp. He was tall, black, and gaunt, part bald with tufted
hair, and a cowed and furtive look was in his eyes. One leg was
crippled, and he hobbled painfully.
Up the road to the eastward that ran past the school, with the morning
sun at his back, strode a young man, yellow, crisp-haired, strong-faced,
with darkly knit brows. He greeted Bles and the teacher coldly, and
moved on in nervous haste. A woman, hurrying out of the westward swamp
up the path that led from Elspeth's, saw him and shrank back hastily.
She turned quickly into the swamp and waited, looking toward the school.
The old woman hurried into the back gate just as the old man appeared to
the southward on the road. The young man greeted him cordially and they
stopped a moment to talk, while the hiding woman watched.
"Howdy, Uncle Jim."
"Howdy, son. Hit's hot, ain't it? How is you?"
"Tolerable, how are you?"
"Poorly, son, poorly--and worser in mind. I'se goin' up to talk to old
Miss."
"So am I, but I just see Aunt Rachel going in.
Pages:
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141