To Make My Bread Read Online Free PDF

asked.
    Ora answered, “I’ve heard of visitations.”
    â€œI’ve got a husband and three young ones in the burying ground,” Emma said. “And they’ve never come back.”
    â€œSometimes they have to walk where they’re laid,” Ora told her.
    â€œI declare,” Jennie sighed. “I’m glad Jim’s a-coming for me to-night. I’d be plumb scared to go home by myself.”
    â€œWell,” Emma wanted to comfort Jennie. “I’ve never seen anything. Hit may be that ghosts walk. But maybe they don’t. Maybe what Ora saw was a shadow, or one of Tate’s sheep.”
    â€œHow’s Granma Wesley?” Ora asked Jennie.
    â€œShe’s still in the bed with her rheumatic fever,” Jennie answered. The Wesleys were her near neighbors in Possum Hollow. “She says hit’s a sure sign of a hard winter, her getting the fever so soon.”
    â€œShe’ll never live to finish that coverlet,” Ora said.
    Over at the Wesleys, under a shed joined to the cabin, there was a frame for weaving. The treadles were worn, for the frame had belonged to the first Wesleys who had settled in the mountains no one knew how many years before. In the cabin by the fireplace was a spinning wheel. Granma Wesley owned two sheep and she planned to finish a coverlet from their wool before she died. Each year she sheared the animals herself, combed the wool and spun it into thread for the loom. In the summer on a clear day anyone passing through Possum Hollow near enough to the cabin could hear the loom. Everyone knew about Granma Wesley’s sheep and her great wish to finish the coverlet before she died.
    â€œPore old woman,” Emma said. “I hope she’ll finish. She’ll never rest quiet in her grave unless she does.”
    â€œEvery year she gets the fever sooner than the year before,” Ora said. “Hit looks bad.”
    Jennie went back to something she had said before. “She says hit’s a sign of a hard winter—that she’s laid up so early.”
    â€œWe’ve had mighty light weather so far,” Ora said. “But maybe she’s right. You never can tell what the Lord will send.”

CHAPTER FOUR
    G RANMA W ESLEY ’ S prophecy came true. That winter was the worst in years. And the cold was harder to bear because the fall had been so balmy and spring-like. Heavy snows kept the ground covered. Food became scarce. To make matters worse, the Swains came down on credit at the store. Hal would possibly have helped his neighbors, but Sally, his wife, would not allow it. She said they could not support the whole community. If they gave credit, the money would never be paid back. What she said was true. Yet there was a hushed up resentment felt at her and at Hal. Everyone knew they and their children had enough, while others were close to starvation.
    For some time the McClures had potatoes, and as long as the shot lasted there was an occasional rabbit. Then the shot gave out, and one day Emma had to tell the others that the last potato had been eaten. It had been hard for her to believe this. She had got down into the trench and felt in every corner, hoping she might find some small ones hidden in the straw. There was not a single potato left.
    Now there was only one hope for food. Granpap and the boys dragged themselves out of the cabin each day and waded through the snow looking for rabbit tracks. There was no ammunition for the guns, and the dogs were too weak from hunger to be of any use. One day they did track a rabbit. Kirk went ahead of the others. He had a piece of knotted pine wood in his hand. Kirk was swifter than Granpap and Basil though they tried to keep up. When they had their usual strength either Kirk or Basil could have run a rabbit down in the snow and killed it with a stick. But it was different now. Kirk felt ashamed and angry that he could not outrun the little animal that was handicapped