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Bacheller, Irving, 1859-1950

"Darrel of the Blessed Isles"

"
"If you've no objection I'd like to go with you," said Thurst
Tilly. "I'm a good farmer."
"Can you drive a team?" said the man.
"Drove horses all my life," said Thurst; whereupon they made a
bargain.
Trove and Tilly went away to the brook for water while the
travellers went to bed in their big, covered wagon. Trove lay down
with his blanket on the boughs, reading over the indelible record
of that day. And he said, often, as he thought of it, years after,
that the saddest thing in all the world is a man of broken courage.


X
An Odd Meeting
They were up betimes in the morning, and Trove ate hastily from his
own store and bade them all good-by and made off, for he had yet a
long road to travel.
That day Trove fell in with a great, awkward country boy, slouching
along the road on his way to Cleveland. He was an odd figure, with
thick hair of the shade of tow that burst out from under a slouch
hat and muffled his neck behind; his coat was thread-bare and a bit
too large; his trousers of satinet fell loosely far enough to break
joints with each bootleg; the dusty cowhide gave his feet a lonely
and arid look. He carried a bundle tied to a stick that lay on his
left shoulder.


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