A Son of the Hills

Lost Hollow lies close at the foot of the mountain which gives it its name. The height of neither is great, geographically considered; the peak is perhaps eighteen hundred feet...

Tod Greeley, the postmaster, was sitting on his cracker box contemplatively eying the rusty stove enthroned upon its sawdust platform, in the middle of the store. Every man in T...

It was something of a jog to The Hollow people to find Miss Lowe actually settled at Trouble Neck. They had looked upon the possibility of her coming as an evil which threatened...

Sandy Morley came out of his shed and turned his bruised and aching face to Lost Mountain. It was very early, and the first touch of a red morn was turning the mists on the high...

"I sho' have," he replied; "it smells like ash cakes, and I've brought a bucket of buttermilk from ole Mis' Walden's place. She certainly is a techersome woman but a powerful go...

When Sandy had departed down The Way he felt weak and stricken. All the fervour and exhilaration were gone; there was no turning back, and he could not stand still. The walk to...

The warm sun of September brought a faint tinge to Sandy's hollow cheeks. After Matilda's "There!" the boy had leaned his head back on the pillow of his couch and closed his eye...

Lansing Treadwell, after an hour on the piazza with his aunt and uncle, followed the latter into the study and, taking the broad leather chair, faced Markham across the flat des...

Cynthia Walden came slowly up the trail leading to the old gray house. Since the day of the flood which bore old Ivy forever from sight, she had confronted so many strange condi...

Life in the Morley cabin was tense and dangerously vital. The cold had settled down now with serious intent; the door was permanently closed except of entrances and exits and th...

Martin Morley slept, in the clean loft over Marcia Lowe's living-room. There was a good warm bed there, and before he had gone up the ladder to his much-needed rest, the little...

The day that civilization and education took Sandy Morley into its keeping, saw Cynthia Walden astride Crothers' mule jogging down The Way to the factory. Sandy, arrayed in imma...

And there Marcia Lowe found her. Fortunately the little doctor went early to the church, for she had conceived of a Christmas such as The Hollow had never known, and it seemed f...

Seven years passed, leaving their traces, and upon a certain afternoon in August Levi Markham and Matilda sat on the piazza of the Bretherton home and awaited the arrival of Mrs...

Sandy came down from Boston that evening, tired-eyed and dusty. He walked up from the station because he had taken an earlier train and he wanted the walk through the quiet, swe...

Perhaps it was the spring air; perhaps it was the turn in the tide of Cynthia Walden's life, but whatever it was it roused her and gripped her from early morning. At six o'clock...

If one can forget the languor of the summer and the fear of the winter, a September day among the hills is an experience to set the heart singing. The fluttering birds in busy p...

Old Sally Taber sat in the full glow and warmth of an early October afternoon and looked about Sandy Morley's kitchen. The glow came from the sun which streamed through the broa...

They had tramped the hills together, Sandy and Lans. They had gone carefully over the plans for the factory and Home-school, had seen the growing building of the former and reve...

"Yes," he thought to himself virtuously, "I'll let Marian have it out with her conscience or whatever it was that took her from me. I'll write and tell her I'm waiting up here!"

Crothers was a man who approached his ends by the use of his better qualities. The man whom the children of the factory shrank before in trembling fear, the man whom the men faw...

Marcia Lowe was mistaken. Sandy did not know. He knew that Treadwell had not returned the evening before, but Tansey Moore, who was now manager of Crothers' new factory, had tol...

The Markhams came to Lost Mountain early in December. The weather was fair and mild and much of the time could be spent out of doors. Matilda, frail but with that gentle tenacit...

But Matilda Markham could not sit down under her weight of conviction in protracted silence. The winter at last gripped The Hollow, and doors and windows were closed against the...

The work God had sent Cynthia to do came to hand very shortly after Miss Markham's return to Bretherton. Cynthia had spent one blessed day at the quiet old farm, then Mrs. Tread...

There was a crust of glistening snow upon The Way; every branch of the tall, bare trees was outlined with a feathery whiteness which shone, as one looked deep into the woods, li...