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Allen, James Lane, 1849-1925

"The Mettle of the Pasture"


Miss Anna started up:
"She needs me!"
He held her back:
"No, Anna! Not to help is to help."


X
One afternoon late in the autumn of the following year, when a
waiting stillness lay on the land and shimmering sunlight opened up
the lonely spaces of woods and fields, the Reaper who comes to all
men and reaps what they have sown, approached the home of the
Merediths and announced his arrival to the young master of the
house: he would await his pleasure.
Rowan had been sitting up, propped by his pillows. It was the room
of his grandfather as it had been that of the man preceding; the
bed had been their bed; and the first to place it where it stood
may have had in mind a large window, through which as he woke from
his nightly sleep he might look far out upon the land, upon rolling
stately acres.
Rowan looked out now: past the evergreens just outside to the
shining lawn beyond; and farther away, upon fields of brown
shocks--guiltless harvest; then toward a pasture on the horizon.
He could see his cattle winding slowly along the edge of a russet
woodland on which the slanting sunlight fell. Against the blue sky
in the silvery air a few crows were flying: all went in the same
direction but each went without companions. He watched their wings
curiously with lonely, following eyes. Whither home passed they?
And by whose summons? And with what guidance?
A deep yearning stirred him, and he summoned his wife and the nurse
with his infant son.


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