. . . They don't know what they wish, but if
He had a lot of money, why, then they could help the poor, and all
like that, and have a new dress every day.
James Sackett - his real name is Jim Bag, but teacher calls him
James Sackett - has his face set toward: "A farmer sold 16 2-3 bu.
wheat for 66 7-8 c. per bu.; 19 2-9 bu. oats for," etc., etc., but
his soul is far away in Cummins's woods, where there is a robbers'
cave that he, and Chuck Higgins, and Bunt Rogers, and Turkey-egg
McLaughlin are going to dig Saturday afternoons when the chores
are done. They are going to - Here Miss Daniels should slip up
behind him and snap his ear, but she, too, is far away in spirit.
Her beau is coming after supper to take her buggy-riding. She
wonders. . . . She wonders. . . . Will she have to teach again next
fall? She wonders. . . .
Wait. Wait but a moment. A subtle change is coming.
The rim of the revolving year has a brighter and a darker half, a
joyous and a somber half, Autumnal splendors cannot cheer the
melancholy that we feel when summer goes from us, but when summer
comes again the heart leaps up in glee to meet it. Wait but a
moment now. Wait.
The distant woodland swims in an amethystine haze. A long and
fluting note, honey-sweet as it were blown upon a bottle, comes to
us from far.
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