Autumn

s brown overalls; he came clumping into the barn, dusty with last year's hay, and peered about him in the yellow light

it on their faces, and puffed and sighed. The shed was cold, and redolent of earth. Outside, the odor of coffee, d

loor, where it lay as sleepy as its mistress. She tossed her hair back from her face; it spread broad and gold across her shou

ces wet and clean, poured sugar over their

r, like an ear-worm, s

in our corn, so f

much rain sin

ad y

ther, with prices what they are, and you two e

usband hastily, "that's

ater like lazy fish, curled around plates, swam out of pots; while her thoughts, drowsy, s

out, thin, stooped, her long, lean fingers fumbling with her apron; and she came back mo

t the house to rights; in order to keep Anna fresh and plump until she was married. Anna, plump and wealthy, was a good m

rom the cellar, woke her with a clatter of coal. "Why, you big, a

of a thousand things. But when I went to

," she s

r doubtfully, "you mig

k, cluck; the peas fell into the bowl like shot at first, dull as the bowl grew full. Click, cluck, c

o the peas. "I must be in love

sighed. "Ak

er a while she asked, "D

ot," said

cried, "I'm not in

ers rest idly along the

he began. Then it was

rked Mrs. Barly, who wanted to

er's voice, tart and dry, filled her mind with the sulky thoughts of you

r meant. "Be glad there's any left," she r

circles through the peas. "I'm too

er than w

reaching for more. And Anna, too, wanted more . . . more than her mother had had. "If

open like the covers of a book. "I declare," she exclaimed, "I don't know what

on't," s

es . . . wait . . . you'll see a bit of someth

n, their wet, cotton shirts open at the neck, their faces shaded with wide straw hats. Farmer Ba

r Barly, "I'm going to

o cover it, I'm going

," said M

d Mr. Barly. "I'm buildi

ight say," corr

by God," sa

his head and cast a loo

hole," he s

to find that out." And, greatly amused at his own wit, Mr. Barl

her before me." He smote his fist into his open palm. "I'll vote the Democrats blue in the face. If a man can't vote fo

ou can," sa

vil take th

quoth Mr. Barly, "folks bei

it," he said, "it's like this: first, there's me; and

epeat to his wife wha

e it to him,"

y agreed that the pay they received for their work was inadequate. It seemed to them to b

he said to Thomas Frye, who had been his pupil in school: "These little sticks of wood need only a good scratch to confuse me, for a moment, with the

ell," she cried, "don't keep me waiting all day." But when Mr. Jeminy was gone,

ught anything. "It's all the fault of that old m

Wicket in the garden, he stopped to wave his hand. Under her bonnet, the young woman looked up at him, her plain, thin face flushed with her e

which danced above the road, kept him company; and all about him, in the meadows, among the daisies, the beetles, wasps

but especially our brother, the sun . . . fair he

the moon, and for the stars, which

the wind, and for air and cl

r, the earth, which does s

nother . . . and who endure weakness and tribulatio

hin, clear clang of the smithy, the full sun sank in the west. For a time

e, in his father's wago

rl

oney, the night was visible, pale and full of shadows. To the boy beside her, timid

shall we go

r mother, "I'm going

ate," said

uggy; soon the yellow lantern, swung between its w

o quie

I, A

ng

king . . .

began to hum u

thinking," h

y, he added,

d me," he wou

nny for his thoughts, he

ar

swept forward. "You know w

ked Anna i

't y

rha

ng of harness, came to a halt in front of the drug store, they descended to quench their thirs

e; they imagine they are acting upon the screen. It is a mistake which charms and consoles them bo

herself: "Other people'

rough the night mist; and the wheels, rumbling over the ground, turned

me, "don't you care for me . . . any more?" As he s

I do

h as yo

as m

e, A

ay

ll you? Say, w

Tom. Don't as

t to ask you

y, to where the faint light of the lanter

said slowly,

, the

last he asked, "Is i

said

dead ma

"No, it isn't," she s

Would it be Noel, if he

ay

to keep on thinkin

't pla

back to the old questi

not w

me,

id vaguely, "I

d w

t so much, Tom . . . you co

is it I could

want what other people ha

d with pity for herself. "Is it so

s got into

got into me beyond I don't wa

as you can

youth: she swore she'd b

h, A

sh?" she asked.

at's what it is

he said. And she sat loo

t's got into you.

e happy," sh

can do as you li

ser to him, all her reckless spirit gone. "There . . . you've ma

going to k

oss his horse's back. "What's the

here isn't any. Oh, I don't kno

silence, with pale chee