I stood on the banks
of Rocky Head Creek, not far from the bridge.
One low-hanging limb, heavy with blue silk ties, had been
propped up with walking sticks, while at my roots lay Papa's good
Sunday-go-to-meeting hat. It, too, was big, as big as a barrel.
In the middle of it a fat, fat goose had made her nest. And there
she sat, hatching out popcorn balls and pennies by the hatful.
Mister Ward came whizzing across the bridge, his new
automobile loaded with guns and axes. He stopped to chop me down!
But Ginger came frisking along just then and barked so loud it
scared him and his automobile away.
Old Mister Hawk came walking along the far bank of the creek,
leading his mule to get water. She saw me and blinked her eyes
and gave her tail a swish. Before I could say anything, though,
Mister Hawk took her away without even looking up. All he said
was, "Let's go, Nellie."
Then, three kings on bay horses came galloping by, their
calico robes rippling in the wind, their laughter ringing through
the woods.
"Pick some presents!" I called.
Pages:
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231