Page 238 (1/2)

On her old pink quilt Little Poll, sound asleep, was lifted from

the shade of one shock to another, while Kate worked across her

share of the field As she worked she kept looking at the child

She frankly adored her, but she kept her reason and held to rigid

rules in feeding, bathing, and dressing Polllarks pierced the air with silver notes, on

the fence-rows the gathering robins called to each other; high in

the air the old black vulture that ho in Kate's

woods, looked down on the spots of colour old corn, the blue of Kate's dress, and her yellow head An

artist would have paused long, over the rich colour, the grouping

and perspective of that picture, while the hazy fall atmosphere

softened and blended the whole Kate, herself, never had appeared

or felt better She worked rapidly, often glancing across the

field to see if she was even with, or slightly in advance of Adaet "heady," so shefor Little Poll, "for

goodlike a ave the ear a twist, tossed it aside, and

reached for the next Kate was doing the sa to find the afternoon sun almost