Beyond the picturesque snake-fences stretched the fields of springing
grain, of varying shades of green, with here and there a dark brown
patch, marking a turnip field or summer fallow, and far back were the
woods of maple and beech and elm, with here and there the tufted top of
a mighty pine, the lonely representative of a vanished race, standing
clear above the humbler trees.
As we drove through the big swamp, where the yawning, haunted gully
plunges down to its gloomy depths, Graeme reminded me of that night when
our horse saw something in that same gully, and refused to go past; and
I felt again, though it was broad daylight, something of the grue that
shivered down my back, as I saw in the moonlight the gleam of a white
thing far through the pine trunks.
As we came nearer home the houses became familiar. Every house had its
tale: we had eaten or slept in most of them; we had sampled apples, and
cherries, and plums from their orchards, openly as guests, or secretly
as marauders, under cover of night--the more delightful way, I fear.
Pages:
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257