ALONG A COUNTRY 

 ROAD 



THE dust is very thick and white and 

 soft, like a woollen blanket. The 

 road is broad in places, and espe- 

 cially at the bottoms of the hills, or in level 

 stretches of land. On the crests of the hills 

 and in the woods it narrows sometimes to a 

 dusty streak. There is an individuality in a 

 country road if one takes the trouble to ob- 

 serve. Where the road widens out in the 

 sunlight by meadows and fields of grain it 

 seems to invite the confidence of the traveller. 

 The invitation is emphasized by hospitable 

 clusters of blackberries on the way-side bushes. 

 But in the cool, secluded depths of the woods, 

 where the sun's rays are beaten back by shields 

 of oak and hickory foliage, and where the 

 hush is broken by only an occasional bird- 

 note, the old road seems to say, " I have my 

 secrets, too." 



Where this road runs there was an Indian 

 86 



