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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"At the Foot of the Rainbow"

"Ye never would, Jimmy," he
implored.
"Sure not!" cried Jimmy. "I'm no good Catholic livin', but if it
come to dyin', bedad I niver could face it without first
confissin' to the praste, and that would give the game away.
Let's cut out dyin', and cut corn!"
"That's richt," agreed Dannie. "And let's work like men, and then
fish fra a week or so, before ice and trapping time comes again.
I'll wager I can beat ye the first row."
"Bate!" scoffed Jimmy. "Bate! With them club-footed fingers of
yours? You couldn't bate an egg. Just watch me! If you are enough
of a watch to keep your hands runnin' at the same time."
Jimmy worked feverishly for an hour, and then he straightened and
looked about him. On the left lay the river, its shores bordered
with trees and bushes. Behind them was deep wood. Before them lay
their open fields, sloping down to the bottom, the cabins on one
side, and the kingfisher embankment on the other. There was a
smoky haze in the air. As always the blackbirds clamored along
the river. Some crows followed the workers at a distance, hunting
for grains of corn, and over in the woods, a chewink scratched
and rustled among the deep leaves as it searched for grubs. From
time to time a flock of quail arose before them with a whirr and
scattered down the fields, reassembling later at the call of
their leader, from a rider of the snake fence, which inclosed the
field.


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