And, yet, there was a suggestion of pathos in the loneliness of the
slender figure standing there. Now and again, she clasped her delicate
hands to her breast as if moved by emotions of a too-poignant sweetness,
while in her eyes shone the soft light of fondest memories and dearest
dreams. Several times she turned her head to look about, as if wishing
for some one to share with her the beauty that moved her so. At last,
she called; and her voice, low and pure-toned, had in it the quality
that was in the light of her eyes.
"Judy! Judy, dear! Do come and see this wonderful, wonderful sky!"
From within the house, a shrill, querulous, drawling voice, so
characteristic of the Southern "poor-white" mountaineer, answered:
"Wha-a-t?"
A quick little smile deepened the crows'-feet at the corners of Auntie
Sue's eyes, as she called again with gentle patience: "Do come and see
the sunset, Judy, dear! It is so beautiful!" And, this time, in answer,
Judy appeared in the doorway.
From appearances, the poor creature's age might have been anywhere from
fifteen to thirty-five; for the twisted and misshapen body, angular and
hard; the scrawny, wry neck; the old-young face, thin and sallow, with
furtive, beady-black eyes, gave no hint of her years. As a matter of
fact, I happened to know that Judith Taylor, daughter of the notorious
Ozark moonshiner, Jap Taylor, was just past twenty the year she went to
live with Auntie Sue.
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