The Opelousas courier., 1895-11-23

blending with the clouds Fields of
yellow stubble covered the open stretch
OF plain betweel the foothills and tim
Der belt, finding a background in the
rich dark green Of the live oak groves
that outline the course of river and
creek that feed Tulare lake.
Harvest was over. For weeks six
and eight horse teams, heavy with
sacks Of grain, had cut deep ruts in the
sandy soil and left in their wake a trail
OF dust. which, caught by sudden gusts
OF wind. was sent in eddies down q
road that formed the section line be.
tween two ranches. All through the
hot summer months the dust rolled in
dense clouds off to the neighborine
fields, to hang for hours like a veil over
the landscape. depositing a film Of yell
low on trees and grass, and dimming
once glazing w~hitewashed house, al
most hidden by spreading fig trees,
Shanty would be a more correct term
for the small square box-like structure
of rough redwood boards, the pine
shake roof stained and warped by the
passing seasons. The ground before
h partly open door. bare and hard
from constant sweeping, bore evidence
Of a thrifty hand, but all day the 6tful
October winds had banked the half.
dried fig leaves against the doorsill,
giving an air of neglect, intensified by
the shrill cries OF a motherless brood
OF chickens standing with anxious eyes
and outstretchcd callow necks before
the door.
A newly weaned calf lowed piteous-
~ from the orchard, where in his
frantic efforts to get loose he over
turned q frame of sun-drisd fruit. The
warm n beat in the window. through
the cotton curtain that. blown to one
side, hung limp against the outer wall.
its wilderness marred by q streak of
dirt gathered in the trail across the |
window-siu, and on to the clean
scrubbed floor. lighting up the corners
OF the SOU are north room.
Above the broad open fireplace, the
vanished mantcl, stained with traces
OF tobacco juice, held a miscellaneous
collection, the outcome of certain
needs, a cracked blue vase filled with
the next years vegetable seeds, a cigar
box. the receptacle for tacks and
pieces of Irvine, a basket of worn socks
and q half-smoked pipe. The tall loud-
ticking clock pointed to four. The
angular features Of the room suggested
no sweet human intercourse when the
day was ended and the hearth aglow.
In or orner was a bed. Its pillows
IN their coarse cotton slips rose primly
above the log cabin quilt. and full high
feather tick, whose bright hued line of
colors was broken by the woman lying
across it.
For hours she had lain there, deaf to
the cries of the hungry chickens, the
below Of the frantic calf. Her face
buried in the pillow. like a tired
The brown hair, streaked
with carly threads of age, SO thin
the ~blue-veined temples, the
hollow cheeks. the sharp lines, like j
pencil-tracings, across the brow, all i
expressed care and bodily fatigue. !,
One arm lay under her, but the other
hand. brown and callous from toll, still 6
held in the fast slackening fingers the f,
gingham apron. disclosing I
, tireless mothers life. woven in the 8
stitches of the baby garment. i
Before an open window stood the I
sewing machine. A little sleeve held Y
hast by the needle fiuttered as the cool 4
breeze OF the evening crept in, a kit !