Page:Al Que Quiere.djvu/74

  storms, sun, fire, against flies, against girls that came smelling about, against drought, against weeds, storm-tides, neighbors, weasles that stole her chickens, against the weakness of her own hands, against the growing strength of the boys, against wind, against the stones, against trespassers, against rents, against her own mind.

She grubbed this earth with her own hands, domineered over this grass plot, blackguarded her oldest son into buying it, lived here fifteen years, attained a final loneliness and—

If you can bring nothing to this place but your carcass, keep out. 

K. McB.

You exquisite chunk of mud Kathleen—just like any other chunk of mud! —especially in April! Curl up round their shoes when they try to step on you, spoil the polish! 