" And in that unmarred month of sunny sky
and woodlands purged of every plague, there is but one menace in
the vales. For who can bring the glowing coal to the dry-leafed
woods without these two begetting the dread red fury that
devastates the hills?
Who can bring the fire in touch with tow and wonder at the blaze?
Who, indeed? And would any but a dreamer expect young manhood in
its growing strength, and girlhood just across the blush-line, to
meet in daily meals and talk and still keep up the brother and
sister play? It needs only a Virginia on the sea-girt island to
turn the comrade into Paul.
"Marta, I tink dot Rolf an Annette don't quarrel bad, ain't it?"
"Hendrik, you vas von blind old bat-mole," said Marta, "I fink
dat farm next ours purty good, but Rolf he say 'No Lake George no
good.' Better he like all his folk move over on dat Hudson."
Chapter 86. The New Era of Prosperity
As November neared and his leave of absence ended, Rolf was himself
again; had been, indeed, for two weeks, and, swinging fork or axe,
he had helped with many an urgent job on the farm.
A fine log stable they had rolled up together, with corners
dovetailed like cabinet work, and roof of birch bark breadths
above the hay.
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