Harriet Prescott Spofford

“ He heard a child's glad cry saluting the early sun; he heard a boy's clear clarion call as he drove the cattle over the hill on a misty morning, all the green world, the white air, washed with dew. And then the voice was a man's, low and tender, when he himself was burning up with a pneumonia. ”

“ How many year is it sence Reuel follered him? Three? I thought it might be about three. An' no word fum him sence. Wat do ye s'pose he's a-doin' of?"
"Eatin' husks. 'St! There's his father a-settin' on the porch."
You don't think he heered? I guess I'll be goin'. I see Eunice ter meetin'," Sally added in a lower tone. "She's aged consider'ble. She's lookin' dretfle peakid. She's a-goin' down inter a sickness or I don't know signs. Pretty creeter. Allus put me in mind of a flower,—one o' them flowers ye tech 'ith a pin an' they shet up." ”

“ And the next moment, the Deacon had sprung down the steps, and was plunging with leaps and bounds to throw his mighty arms about the boy who flung himself upon his breast.
"Oh, she's goin' ter live, father! She's goin' ter live!" cried Reuel.
"My son! My son!" the Deacon answered, clasping him close and closer.
Marthy was at the window, the flashing of the sun on the milk-pans reflected in the tears on her face like a glory. "This won't never du," she said, flicking off the tears with her fingers as she went to the door. "I'll be havin' 'em both down on my han's. Reuel, that you?" ”

“ He laid his head on the dog's neck. "Don't ye leave me, Bitters," he whispered, chokingly. "I—I couldn't stand that." The dog raised his head a trifle and lapped his master's face, and Steve's voice broke down in a loud sob.
"Here," said Sally. "He's a-comin' reoun'. Deacon jes' sorter stunned him. That's all. He was a-pullin' down Euny's cow all right. You wanter git even 'ith the Deacon? Then vou leave Bitters here ter me, an' you go down an' find Reuel. Eunice said she'd die afore she'd merry him, 'ith the Deacon so sot; an' you tell him she's a-dyin'. ”

“ Marthy, you wouldn't recognize Old Harry if you was ter meet him! You'd find excuses for him. You allus did,—fer the boy thet was licked, an' fer the man thet did the lickin'. Fer Reuel, an' fer Reuel's father. You know Elder Perry dealt with Deacon Asher fer his hard feelin's w'en he tore the leaf 'ith the boy's name on't out'n the big Bible, an' out'n the hymn-book in the pew, an' said 'twarn't ter be spoke in his hearin'. ”

“ P'r'aps I ain't come ter payin' yet,—though I've hed chilblains an' rheumatiz an' gone hungry. Anyways, I've hed my way. But I guess 'tain't jes' the same 'ith you, Deacon," said the man, scratching Bitters's back with the end of his staff. "Your w'istle was ter hev your own way tew. Ter hev it ef the sky fell. Yes, sir, w'ile you be a-settin' up yer rights as a father, an' all the rest, ye've ben a-murderin' a man, body an' soul, an' that man yer own son!" ”