Evans, Augusta J. (Augusta Jane), 1835-1909 / 2008-09-27 00:00:00


"What is your name?" asked the surgeon.
"Edna Earl."
"Do you live near this place?"
"Yes, sir, very near."
"Is your father at home?"
"I have no father, but grandpa has not gone to the shop yet."
"Will you show me the way to the house?"
"Do you wish to carry him there?" she asked, glancing at the corpse,
and shuddering violently.
"Yes, I want some assistance from your grandfather."
"I will show you the way, sir."
The surgeon spoke hurriedly to the two remaining gentlemen, and
followed his guide. Slowly she retraced her steps, refilled her
bucket at the spring, and walked on before the stranger. But the
glory of the morning had passed away; a bloody mantle hung between
the splendor of summer sunshine and the chilled heart of the awe-
struck girl. The forehead of the radiant, holy June day had been
suddenly red-branded like Cain, to be henceforth an occasion of
hideous reminiscences; and with a blanched face and trembling limbs
the child followed a narrow, beaten path, which soon terminated at
the gate of a rude, unwhitewashed paling.
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