Unsolicited Writings

The thought reminded him of his evening chores, and he set off for the barn with
a harsh jubilation that it was almost the last time he would need to milk. How
far, he wondered, could he go on that money? He hurried through his work and into
the house to his old desk. The faded text-ornament stood on the top shelf, but he
did not see it, as he hastily tumbled out all the time-tables and sailing-lists.
The habit of looking at them with the yearning bitterness of unreconciled
deprivation was still so strong on him that even as he handled them eagerly, he
hated them for the associations of years of misery they brought back to him.
The day before he went back to his own home, now so strange to him, he was out
with her, searching for some lost turkey-chicks, and found one with its foot
caught in a tangle of rusty wire. The little creature had beaten itself almost to
death in its st!
ruggle to get way. Kneeling in the grass, and feeling the wild palpitations of its
heart under his rescuing hand, he had called to his sister, Oh, look! Poor thing!
Its most dead, and yet it aint really hurt a mite, only desperate, over bein held
fast. His voice broke in a sudden wave of sympathy: Oh, aint it terrible to feel
so!
Nathaniels face flushed in a relief which died quickly down to a sombre
hopelessness. He faced his uncle doggedly. Not much, Uncle Jehiel! he said
heavily. I aint agoin to hear to such a thing. I know all about your wantin to
get away from the valley -- you take that money and go yourself and Ill --
have plenty of meaning, but the SOUNDS are so mild and ineffectual that