The Bishop of Cottontown: A Story of the Southern Cotton Mills
John Stuart Mill · en
They were deft with their fingers--the old mill had taught many of
them that--and their pay, daily, ran from seventy-five cents to a
dollar and a half--as much as some of them had earned in a week of
the old way. And, oh, the health of it, the glory of air and sky and
sunshine, the smell of dew on the bruised cotton-heads, the rustle of
the mountain breeze cooling the heated cheeks; the healthy hunger,
and the lunches in the shade by the cool spring; the shadows of
evening creeping down from the mountains, the healthy fatigue--and
the sweet home-going in the twilight, riding beneath the silent stars
on wagons of snowy seed cotton, burrowing in bed of down and purest
white--this snow of a Southern summer--with the happy laughter of
childhood and the hunger of home-coming, and the glory and freedom of
it all!
THE END.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Bishop of Cottontown, by John Trotwood Moore