Just David by Eleanor H. (Eleanor Hodgman) Porter
page 7 of 266 (02%)
page 7 of 266 (02%)
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express.
Across the valley the grays and blues of the mountains had become all purples now. Above, the sky in one vast flame of crimson and gold, was a molten sea on which floated rose-pink cloud-boats. Below, the valley with its lake and river picked out in rose and gold against the shadowy greens of field and forest, seemed like some enchanted fairyland of loveliness. And all this was in David's violin, and all this, too, was on David's uplifted, rapturous face. As the last rose-glow turned to gray and the last strain quivered into silence, the man spoke. His voice was almost harsh with self-control. "David, the time has come. We'll have to give it up--you and I." The boy turned wonderingly, his face still softly luminous. "Give what up?" "This--all this." "This! Why, father, what do you mean? This is home!" The man nodded wearily. "I know. It has been home; but, David, you didn't think we could always live here, like this, did you?" |
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