She was a plain
little woman, the cradle was cheap and common, and her singing was only
a monotonous chant; but the scene had a sort of sublimity--it was so
old, so typical, and so beautiful.
The woman without the threshold stood for a long time staring straight
before her, then turned and walked away homeward--past the weary,
patient, heroic man toiling deep in the earth for her sake--leaving him
without a glance or a word.
"You didn't get over to Mrs. Bradley's this afternoon, then?" Burke
said, at supper.
"No," she replied, shortly, "I had some sewin' to do."
"Wal, go to-morrow. That's an awfully cute little chap--that baby," he
went on, after a little. "Mrs. Bradley let him set on my knee to-day."
Then he sighed. "I wisht we had one like 'im, Blanche." After a pause,
he said, "Mebbe God will send one some day."
She didn't appear to hear, and her face was dark with passion.
IV
AUGUST
Now the settlers began to long for rain. Day after day vast clouds rose
above the horizon, swift and portentous, domed like aerial mountains,
only to pass with a swoop like the flight of silent, great eagles,
followed by a trailing garment of dust.
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