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Anderson, Sherwood, 1876-1941

"Poor White"

She remembered the young school
teacher, who had held her in his arms through a long Sunday afternoon, and
the day when, as an awakening maiden, she had heard Jim Priest talking to
the laborers in the barn about the sap that ran up the tree. The afternoon
slipped away and the shadows of the trees lengthened. On such a day and
alone there in the quiet wood, it was impossible for her to remain in the
angry mood in which she had left the house. Over her father's farm brooded
the passionate fulfillment of summer. Before her, seen through the trees,
lay yellow wheat fields, ripe for the cutting; insects sang and danced in
the air about her head; a soft wind blew and made a gentle singing noise
in the tops of the trees; at her back among the trees a squirrel chattered;
and two calves came along a woodland path and stood for a long time staring
at her with their large gentle eyes. She arose and went out of the wood,
crossed a falling meadow and came to a rail fence surrounding a corn field.
Jim Priest was cultivating corn and when he saw her left his horses and
came to her. He took both her hands in his and pumped her arms up and
down. "Well, Lord A'mighty, I'm glad to see you," he said heartily. "Lord
A'mighty, I'm glad to see you." The old farm hand pulled a long blade of
grass out of the ground beneath the fence and leaning against the top rail
began to chew it. He asked Clara the same question her aunt had asked, but
his asking did not annoy her.


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