Harriet Monroe

From “Carolina Wood-cuts”

“TWELVE miles?”

“Twelve miles—in the cool o’ th’ mornin’.”

“But look—such a tiny baby!”

“He’s five weeks a’ready”—she snuggled him close in her arms—

“But I couldn’ quite leave him with the othah children.”

“Others?”—she looked so young,

Her milky brow and blue gentian eyes.

“O’ cou’se—six—an’ Co’nelia an’ Jim ah lots o’ help:

Las’ wintah, when they couldn’ go to school—”

“Couldn’t go to school?”

“Coz ’twas too fah an’ they had no shoes—

See, they made these nice little baskets—

Jus’ like my big ones.”

“Oh yes, the baskets—you came all these miles to sell them?”

“We jus’ had to have money t’ rent a plow,

Or else we won’t have no co’n—

It’s plantin’ time.”

“But your husband?”—he sat there lumpish.

Her voice grew soft as the pink-petalled wind

In the apple-blossoms:

“He nevah c’d sell no baskets—

Besides, I couldn’ let him come alone.”