Читать книгу Memory's Storehouse Unlocked, True Stories. Pioneer Days In Wetmore and Northeast Kansas онлайн

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Came now my father, gayly whistling, to his beloved tannery. Davey followed. The other boys were already there. With a puzzled look on his face the daddy of that happy-go-lucky bunch stopped suddenly in his tracks. He surveyed the surroundings in considerable disgust.

At first I thought my father was so overcome by the shock that he was not going to say anything. Well, he didn’t—exactly. Maybe he couldn’t. But it was none the less certain that a violent change of mood had taken place. The thing he saw had stilled his gay whistle—and whereas only a few moments before could his voice but have taken up the glad song of his heart he would have sung beautifully, now he cursed prodigiously!

And Davey howled some more.

That “damned” black cherry tree was gone—cut down, trimmed, and neatly piled. Jim had mistaken Davey’s purpose in bringing him the axe. He had done his work well. The morning sun flooded the tanvats and the work-bench. By noon it would beat down upon them with torrid intensity.