Thomas Bradshaw stood at the head of the freight yard with the rope of his pale mare Banner held in his fist while the April rain came down the hollow and the coal company's train sat ticking on the switch line like a black thing that had been waiting all winter to be fed, and he watched his nephew Isaiah climb up into the open mouth of the cattle car where the other boys of Chadds Hollow were...
The flatboat was gone before the last bell. Edward Ashworth stood at the river gate with his wife's paper held flat against his chest, and he watched the mist close over her like water over a stone. There had been an oar-stroke. He was sure of it. And then there had not been one.
"What did she give you?" asked Mr. Soames, the infirmarer, who had come up with his lantern and his wet old eyes.
"A...
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