This Fine-Pretty World: A Comedy of the Kentucky Mountains

This Fine-Pretty World: A Comedy of the Kentucky Mountains

This Fine-Pretty World: A Comedy of the Kentucky Mountains

This Fine-Pretty World: A Comedy of the Kentucky Mountains

Excerpt

"Here we are in a rough-hewn, old log-cabin in the heart of the mountains: The bob-white's call floats up to us, the creek murmurs, the hollyhocks flash their pink and brilliant stalks. Around, up, and far away--the hills are dusted with the chestnut bloom, which the wind brings to us as faint odors.

"Next door, in the dog-trot, are the looms and spinning-wheels, and going by--the lovely mountain children, so fresh and wild and new. The water splashes into our pitcher, clear and sparkling; the hillsides are strong with great trees; and I hear a child repeating his Sunday text--'Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall inherit'--

"In the distant field, with long, crooning lilt, uncertain in its plaintive wildness, speaking of isolation and of meditation, ancestral, real,--breaks the mountain ballad from a childish throat.

"On the porch last night, with yet but one star shining, the murmuring creek--the noises of drowsy birds--the call of the whip-poor-will--and the distant hills drifting into darkness--the dross of life fell away.

"Here is a new world and an old, untouched by the gropings of man for two centuries, unenmeshed . . .

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