Quick as he get in de room he calls out de
winder fo' me to drive quick's I can to de Judge's an' fotch yo. An'
dat's all I know--'ceptin' Dr. Harry say hit's a'mergency case. We most
dare now. Go on Jim--go on sah!"
While the old negro was speaking the big horse was whirling them through
the quiet streets of the village. As Uncle George finished they reached
the top of Academy Hill, where Miss Farwell saw the old school
building--ghostly and still in the mists that hung about it like a
shroud, the tumble-down fence with the gap leading into the weed-grown
yard, the grassy knoll and the oak--all wet and sodden now, and--below,
the valley--with its homes and fields hidden in the thick fog, suggestive
of hidden and mysterious depths.
"Is yo' cold, Miss? We's mos dar, now." The nurse had shivered as with a
sudden chill.
Turning sharply to the north a minute later they entered the square of
Old Town where a herd of lean cows were just getting up from their beds
to pick a scanty breakfast from the grass that grew where once the farmer
folk had tied their teams, and in front of the ruined structure that had
once been the principal store of the village, a mother sow grunted to her
squealing brood.
Long without touch of painter's brush, the few wretched buildings that
remained were the color of the mist. To the nurse--like the fog that hid
the valley--they suggested cold mysterious depths of life, untouched by
any ray of promised sun.
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