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A NEW STORY by DELMAS W. ABBOTT Be with me, Beauty, for the fire is dying, My dog and I are old, too old for roving. Man, whose young passion sets the spindthrift flying, Is soon too lame to march, too cold for loving. From John Masefield's "On Growing Old" Walt was looking very peaked. He seemed thinner and weaker, Zora thought. He looked even worse than usual. A mess ain't had sallet yet, and Walt's feeling of sallet would be good for him, she knew. have Eva with me. She's a beautiful child; So she decided to go sallet picking this and so good. I'll be looking for her with morning to find greens to liven Walt. It baskets and knives ready." Walt was lying awake in his bed in the was spring, and things would be growing young and tender in the field beyond the corner of the front room where the tele- porely; so I thought sallet might do him a heap of good. Thank you, Ellie. I like to pasture. She'd take Ernest Gooch's little girl, Eva, and go pick a mess of sallet for Walt. phone was. "Well, hit's about time you give
Appalachian Review – University of North Carolina Press
Published: Jan 8, 1976
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