The Work and the Glory Read Online Free PDF Page A

Oneida—all were set in long, narrow valleys, as though the Great Spirit had dug his fingers into the soft earth and gouged out places for the clear blue water to fill. It was wonderful country, rich with promise. And from the moment Benjamin had laid eyes on this place, he had known it was to be his. Now with six months of work into his particular corner of it, those feelings had only deepened. In a few years their farm in Vermont would pale in comparison, and then his family would understand why he had come.
    Fifteen minutes later a shout from across a small meadow brought Benjamin’s and Nathan’s heads up together. Benjamin took off his hat and mopped at his brow with a rag from his back pocket. His face softened, the eyes crinkling around the corners. His youngest son was coming on the dead run, the big, rawboned, half-breed dog loping alongside him, tongue lolling crazily out one side of his mouth. Further behind, he could see the figure of his wife, following in the track Matthew and the dog had made across the brown grass, wet now from where the frost had melted. She was carrying a pitcher and two tin cups.
    He tossed the shovel out and climbed out of the hole, knowing what had brought about this unexpected visit to the fields. His wife would have seen Joshua come in, and whether or not she had talked with him, she would know there had been trouble between him and his father again. This was her way of assessing the damage, seeing if there was anything to be done to repair it. “Looks like it’s time to take a break,” Benjamin said.
    “Mama always knows when it’s time,” Nathan said with a grin. He likewise tossed his shovel out, taking his father’s outstretched hand for a pull up.
    “Pa! Did you get it out yet?” Matthew was calling to them even before he was close enough to see the stump still in place. He pulled up with a frown as his father shook his head. The dog stopped alongside Matthew, took a quick disinterested look into the hole, sniffed briefly at the shovels, then bolted into the trees to see what might be waiting to be stirred up.
    Looking very much like a miniature Nathan, Matthew walked around the periphery of the hole, soberly sizing up the situation. “Looks like you’ve got the biggest roots, Pa,” he said soberly. Then nodding, sure of his assessment, he added, “Can I chop that root there, Pa?”
    Mary Ann came up in time to hear the question, and shot her husband a sharp look. But Benjamin was already shaking his head. “Not quite ready for that yet, Matthew.”
    Nathan looked at his father. “There’s a lot more dirt to come out of the hole before we can chop the root,” he said, his face grave. “But I’m too tuckered to do any more right now.”
    Benjamin nodded, equally sober. “Me too. I’m plumb bushed.”
    “I’ll do it,” yelled Matthew. He grinned up at his father, knowing he was being teased, but not caring. Benjamin smiled again, his eyes clearly reflecting the pride he felt for his youngest offspring, then pointed to the shovel. With a whoop Matthew was into the pit and stabbing awkwardly at the soil around the roots of the hickory stump, barely able to manipulate the length of the shovel in the confined space.
    “Still haven’t got it out?” Mary Ann stopped next to her husband and peered down at what was left of the huge old hickory tree.
    Benjamin wiped at his forehead with his sleeve and shook his head. “It’s hangin’ on to the earth like a baby possum to its mama’s belly.”
    Mary Ann just nodded, biting back a comment. She had loved the giant old tree and had suggested way back last fall that they just clear around it and leave it be. But Benjamin had grumbled about nothing growing in its shade and having to plow around it all the time, and the issue was eventually dropped.
    She lifted the pitcher. “I brought some cold buttermilk.”
    Without waiting for an answer, she set the cups on a nearby log and poured, then stepped back as husband