looked on, fastens itself upon heart and brain, to be forgotten no
more. Her hair, black, straight, waveless as an Indian's, hung
around her shoulders, and glistened as the water from the dripping
bucket trickled through the wreath of purple morning-glories and
scarlet cypress, which she had twined about her head, ere lifting
the cedar pail to its resting-place. She wore a short-sleeved dress
of yellow striped homespun, which fell nearly to her ankles, and her
little bare feet gleamed pearly white on the green grass and rank
dewy creepers that clustered along the margin of the bubbling
spring. Her complexion was unusually transparent, and early exercise
and mountain air had rouged her cheeks till they matched the
brilliant hue of her scarlet crown. A few steps in advance of her
stood a large, fierce yellow dog, with black, scowling face, and
ears cut close to his head; a savage, repulsive creature, who looked
as if he rejoiced in an opportunity of making good his name, "Grip."
In the solemn beauty of that summer morning the girl seemed to have
forgotten the mission upon which she came; but as she loitered, the
sun flashed up, kindling diamond fringes on every dew-beaded
chestnut leaf and oak-bough, and silvering the misty mantle which
enveloped Lookout. A moment longer that pure-hearted Tennessee child
stood watching the gorgeous spectacle, drinking draughts of joy,
which mingled no drop of sin or selfishness in its crystal waves;
for she had grown up alone with nature--utterly ignorant of the roar
and strife, the burning hate and cunning intrigue of the great world
of men and women, where, "like an Egyptian pitcher of tamed vipers,
each struggles to get its head above the other." To her, earth
seemed very lovely; life stretched before her like the sun's path in
that clear sky, and, as free from care or foreboding as the fair
June day, she walked on, preceded by her dog--and the chant burst
once more from her lips: