The Mystery of Witch-Face Mountain, and Other StoriesCraddock, Charles Egbert
General
The Mystery of Witch-Face Mountain, and Other Stories
Craddock, Charles Egbert
Cumberland Mountains -- Fiction; Mountain life -- Fiction; Tennessee -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
A lazy, lazy day, and very, very warm. The birds had much ado to find
sheltering shady nooks where they might escape the glare and the heat;
their gay carols were out of season, and they blinked and nodded under
their leafy umbrellas, and fanned themselves with their wings, and
twittered disapproval of the weather. "Hot, hot, red-hot!" said the
birds--"broiling hot!"
Now and then an acorn fell from among the serrated chestnut leaves,
striking upon the fence with a sounding thwack, and rebounding in the
weeds. Those chestnut-oaks always seem to unaccustomed eyes the
creation of Nature in a fit of mental aberration--useful freak! the
mountain swine fatten on the plenteous mast, and the bark is highly
esteemed at the tan-yard.
A large cat was lying at full length on the floor of the little porch,
watching with drowsy, half-closed eyes the assembled birds in the
tree. But she seemed to have relinquished the pleasures of the chase
until the mercury should fall.
Close in to the muddiest side of the pond over there, which was all
silver and blue with the reflection of the great masses of white
clouds, and the deep azure sky, a fleet of shining, snowy geese was
moored, perfectly motionless too. No circumnavigation for them this
hot day.
And Cynthia's dark brown eyes, fixed upon the leafy vista of the road,
were as slumberous as the noontide sunshine.
"Cynthy! whar _is_ the gal?" said poor Mrs. Hollis, as she came around
the house to hang out the ragged clothes on the althea-bushes and the
rickety fence. "Cynthy, air ye a-goin' ter sit thar in the door all
day, an' that thar pot a-bilin' all the stren'th out 'n that thar
cabbige an' roas'in'-ears? Dish up dinner, child, an' don't be so slow
an' slack-twisted like yer dad."
* * * * *
Great merriment there was, to be sure, at the Kildeer Fair grounds,
situated on the outskirts of Colbury, when it became known to the
convulsed town faction that the gawky Jenks Hollis intended to compete
for the premium to be awarded to the best and most graceful rider. The
contests of the week had as usual resulted in Colbury's favor; this
was the last day of the fair, and the defeated country population
anxiously but still hopefully awaited its notable event.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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