The Harvester (Romance Classic). Stratton-Porter Gene

ection>

      Gene Stratton-Porter

      The Harvester (Romance Classic)

      Books

      OK Publishing, 2020

       [email protected] Tous droits réservés.

      EAN 4064066301392

      Table of Contents

       CHARACTERS

       CHAPTER I. BELSHAZZAR'S DECISION

       CHAPTER II. THE EFFECT OF A DREAM

       CHAPTER III. HARVESTING THE FOREST

       CHAPTER IV. A COMMISSION FOR THE SOUTH WIND

       CHAPTER V. WHEN THE HARVESTER MADE GOOD

       CHAPTER VI. TO LABOUR AND TO WAIT

       CHAPTER VII. THE QUEST OF THE DREAM GIRL

       CHAPTER VIII. BELSHAZZAR'S RECORD POINT

       CHAPTER IX. THE HARVESTER GOES COURTING

       CHAPTER X. THE CHIME OF THE BLUE BELLS

       CHAPTER XI. DEMONSTRATED COURTSHIP

       CHAPTER XII. “THE WAY OF A MAN WITH A MAID”

       CHAPTER XIII. WHEN THE DREAM CAME TRUE

       CHAPTER XIV. SNOWY WINGS

       CHAPTER XV. THE HARVESTER INTERPRETS LIFE

       CHAPTER XVI. GRANNY MORELAND'S VISIT

       CHAPTER XVII. LOVE INVADES SCIENCE

       CHAPTER XVIII. THE BETTER MAN

       CHAPTER XIX. A VERTICAL SPINE

       CHAPTER XX. THE MAN IN THE BACKGROUND

       CHAPTER XXI. THE COMING OF THE BLUEBIRD

      THIS PORTION

       OF THE LIFE OF A MAN OF TO-DAY

       IS OFFERED IN THE HOPE THAT IN CLEANLINESS,

       POETIC TEMPERMENT, AND MENTAL FORCE,

       A LIKENESS WILL BE SEEN

       TO

       HENRY DAVID THOREAU

      CHARACTERS

       Table of Contents

      DAVID LANGSTON, A Harvester of the Woods.

       RUTH JAMESON, A Girl of the City.

       GRANNY MORELAND, An Interested Neighbour.

       DR. CAREY, Chief Surgeon of the Onabasha Hospital.

       MRS. CAREY, Wife of the Doctor.

       DR. HARMON, Who Concludes to Leave the City.

       MOLLY BARNET, A Hospital Nurse with a Heart.

       HENRY JAMESON, A Trader Without a Heart.

       ALEXANDER HERRON, Who Made a Concession.

       MRS. HERRON, A Gentle Woman.

       THE KENNEDYS, Philadelphia Lawyers.

      CHAPTER I. BELSHAZZAR'S DECISION

       Table of Contents

      “Bel, come here!” The Harvester sat in the hollow worn in the hewed log stoop by the feet of his father and mother and his own sturdier tread, and rested his head against the casing of the cabin door when he gave the command. The tip of the dog's nose touched the gravel between his paws as he crouched flat on earth, with beautiful eyes steadily watching the master, but he did not move a muscle.

      “Bel, come here!”

      Twinkles flashed in the eyes of the man when he repeated the order, while his voice grew more imperative as he stretched a lean, wiry hand toward the dog. The animal's eyes gleamed and his sensitive nose quivered, yet he lay quietly.

      “Belshazzar, kommen Sie hier!”

      The body of the dog arose on straightened legs and his muzzle dropped in the outstretched palm. A wind slightly perfumed with the odour of melting snow and unsheathing buds swept the lake beside them, and lifted a waving tangle of light hair on the brow of the man, while a level ray of the setting sun flashed across the water and illumined the graven, sensitive face, now alive with keen interest in the game being played.

      “Bel, dost remember the day?” inquired the Harvester.

      The eager attitude and anxious eyes of the dog betrayed that he did not, but was waiting with every sense alert for a familiar word that would tell him what was expected.

      “Surely you heard the killdeers crying in the night,” prompted the man. “I called your attention when the ecstasy of the first bluebird waked the dawn. All day you have seen the gold-yellow and blood-red osiers, the sap-wet maples and spring tracing announcements of her arrival on the sunny side of the levee.”

      The dog found no clew, but he recognized tones he loved in the suave, easy voice, and his tail beat his sides in vigorous approval. The man nodded gravely.

      “Ah, so! Then you realize this day to be the most important of all the coming year to me; this hour a solemn one that influences my whole after life. It is time for your annual decision on my fate for a twelve-month. Are you sure you are fully alive to the gravity of the situation, Bel?”

      The dog felt himself safe in answering a rising inflection ending in his name uttered in that tone, and wagged eager assent.

      “Well then,” said the man, “which shall it be? Do I leave home for the noise and grime of the city, open an office and enter the money-making scramble?”

      Every word was strange to the dog, almost breathlessly waiting for a familiar syllable. The man gazed steadily into