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John's River, the great river flowed northward and into the sea.
It excited Jody to watch the beginning of the ocean.
Title: The Yearling (1938) Author: Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, 1896-1953 * A Project Gutenberg of Australia e Book * e Book No.: 0301541Edition: 1 Language: English Character set encoding: HTML (Latin-1(ISO-8859-1)--8 bit) Date first posted: December 2003 Date most recently updated: December 2003 This e Book was produced by: Don Lainson [email protected] Gutenberg of Australia e Books are created from printed editions which are in the public domain in Australia, unless a copyright notice is included.
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The wild bees had found the chinaberry tree by the front gate.
They burrowed into the fragile clusters of lavender bloom as greedily as though there were no other flowers in the scrub; as though they had forgotten the yellow jessamine of March; the sweet bay and the magnolias ahead of them in May.
Finding a bee-tree was nobler work than hoeing, and the corn could wait another day. It bored into him as the bees bored into the chinaberry blossoms, so that he must be gone across the clearing, through the pines and down the road to the running branch. Rip barked deeply but the voice of the small mongrel was high and shrill. They were a sorry pair, he thought, good for nothing but the chase, the catch and the kill.
They wagged deprecatory short tails when they recognized him. They had no interest in him except when he brought them their plates of table scraps night and morning.
The creek joined Lake George, Lake George was a part of the St.The smoke was blue where it left the red of the clay. His mother was hanging up pots and pans after the noon dinner. She would sweep the floor with a broom of ti-ti and after that, if he were lucky, she would scrub it with the corn shucks scrub.It trailed into the blue of the April sky and was no longer blue but gray. If she scrubbed the floor she would not miss him until he had reached the Glen.Oliver had been very particular to have the cross-bar round and smooth, he remembered. He climbed it and cut a twig as even as a polished pencil.He selected a palm frond and cut two strips of the tough fiber, an inch wide and four inches long.
"You was pups together," his father told him, "ten year gone, when you was two year old and her a baby. There was no ache in his legs, as when he hoed the corn. Small clouds were stationary, like bolls of cotton.