Page:Emma Speed Sampson--The shorn lamb.djvu/275

Rh of old. Again the sun-dial pointed the hour, but its fluted column no longer was used as a back scratcher for fat hogs or razor-backs. The walks had been graveled and flower beds had been spaded and an occasional green shoot was peeping up, in evidence that bulbs had been planted there and the early March sunshine was tempting them to cast off the light snow with which they had been covered.

Could it be the garden would bloom again with violets and daffodil, iris, purple and white, cornflowers and love-in-the-mist! Perhaps Elizabeth again might find time to bring her sewing and sit on the stone bench by the great box bush. Again she might find time to open the little blue leather Shelleys, with their delicate gold tooling, and read "The Skylark" and "The Sensitive Plant."

"Yi! Yi! Yonder that ol' dried up Bob Taylor a comin' in he buggy!" cried Aunt Peachy, peering through the kitchen window, from which a portion of the red road could be seen as it dipped from the hill.

"How you know it's Bob Taylor?" asked Rolfe Bolling.

"Know by my nose an' my two big toes, ter say nothin' er seein' him jes' as plain as I kin see you, my baby. He air settin' up thar