6 Next to the Ground 



to half-inch upstanding fringes, tails banged 

 to the pertest tasseled tip, even the ears had 

 been shorn of their long inner hairs. Dan 

 had a firm faith in witches. Now a witch, it 

 is well known, cannot ride down a horse or 

 mule unless there are hairs long enough to 

 twist into a stirrup. Dan had not left a 

 single long one — hence he was satisfied the 

 teams would thrive and stand up to their work, 

 not to name being ever so much more bid- 

 dable, since witches, working unhindered, put 

 the devil into even the best broken of them. 



The clover-shift was at the very back of 

 the place, running out to the flat-woods and 

 the crawfishy strip, which had been so long 

 abandoned it was overgrown like a jungle with 

 every sort of brier, persimmon trees, crab- 

 apples, blackthorn and scrub-oak. Birds sang 

 riotously in the strip, after their fashion upon 

 late midsummer mornings. Their clear reedy 

 jangle filled all the silence of the fields. Wood- 

 peckers flying in to plunder the early apple 

 trees, made wavering lines of black and white 

 against the pink sky. Under the strengthen- 

 ing light, corn began to rustle and cast down 

 heavy drops, which beat like fairy drums upon 

 the lower blades. 



Joe could have shut his eyes tight, yet 

 named the fields as they passed them. Each 

 had its own scent, subtly unlike all the rest. 



