“My mother, her sleeves rolled high over her round white arms, was in the dark interior of the milk-house as I passed, and spoke to me laughingly; and I could perceive my father sitting in his great splint-bottomed chair just within the front doorway, and I marked how the slight current of air toyed with his long gray beard. The old Bible lay wide open upon his knee; yet his eyes were resting upon the dark green of the woods that skirted our clearing. I wondered, as I quaffed the cool sweet water at the spring, if he was dreaming again of those old days when he had been a man among men. How distinct in each detail the memory of it remains! The blue sky held but one fleecy white cloud in all its wide arch; it seemed as if the curling film of smoke rising from our chimney had but gathered there and hung suspended to render the azure more pronounced.”
(Tanıtım Bülteninden)
Internet Explorer tarayıcısının 9.0 ve daha eski sürümlerini desteklememekteyiz. Web sitemizi doğru görüntüleyebilmek için tarayıcınızı güncelleyebilirsiniz, güncelleyemiyorsanız başka bir tarayıcıyı ücretsiz yükleyebilirsiniz.