A Worn Path

39 Pages 9776 Words

Now and then there was a quivering in the thicket. Old Phoenix said,
'Out of my way, all you foxes, owls, beetles, jack rabbits, coons and
wild animals! ... Keep out from under these feet, little bob-whites ...
Keep the big wild hogs out of my path. Don't let none of those come
running my direction. I got a long way.' Under her small black-freckled
hand her cane, limber as a buggy whip, would switch at the brush as if
to rouse up any hiding things.

On she went. The woods were deep and still. The sun made the pine
needles almost too bright to look at, up where the wind rocked. The
cones dropped as light as feathers. Down in the hollow was the
mourning dove—it was not too late for him.

The path ran up a hill. 'Seem like there is chains about my feet, time I
get this far,' she said, in the voice of argument old people keep to use
with themselves. 'Something always take a hold of me on this
hill—pleads I should stay.'

After she got to the top, she turned and gave a full, severe look behind
her where she had come. 'Up through pines,' she said at length. 'Now
down through oaks.'

Her eyes opened their widest, and she started down gently. But before
she got to the bottom of the hill a bush caught her dress.

Her fingers were busy and intent, but her skirts were full and long, so
that before she could pull them free in one place they were caught in
another. It was not possible to allow the dress to te...