Page:Frank Owen - Rare Earth, 1931.djvu/269

 "Yes," she said, "Enoch was like that. He'd bring out the best that was in people. He was just a simple colored boy but he was oh, so good." She paused for a moment, then she went on slowly, "Something has happened to this farm, I don't know what For months my nerves were at the breaking point. There wasn't anything for me to live for. The farm had grown to be a desolate place. Then Jethro Trent came and it seemed as though the soil itself ceased to be grim. He has changed everything. Even the house seems more contented. It knows there is someone to look after it. And when I sit alone on the porch in the afternoons and watch his figure working far off there in the fields an unexplainable feeling comes over me. The quietude of the garden is beautiful. The occasional swish of the trees or the cackle of a chicken seems to add to the peace that envelopes everything. And unfamiliar thoughts go floating through my mind. It is hard for me to explain them to you. Why should I feel that life has suddenly grown to be worth living, I who am hundreds of miles