XII


June did not have to be awakened that morning. At the first
clarion call of the old rooster behind the cabin, her eyes opened
wide and a happy thrill tingled her from head to foot--why, she
didn't at first quite realize--and then she stretched her slender
round arms to full length above her head and with a little squeal
of joy bounded out of the bed, dressed as she was when she went
into it, and with no changes to make except to push back her
tangled hair. Her father was out feeding the stock and she could
hear her step-mother in the kitchen. Bub still slept soundly, and
she shook him by the shoulder.

"Git up, Bub."

"Go 'way," said Bub fretfully. Again she started to shake him but
stopped--Bub wasn't going to the Gap, so she let him sleep. For a
little while she looked down at him--at his round rosy face and
his frowsy hair from under which protruded one dirty fist. She was
going to leave him, and a fresh tenderness for him made her breast
heave, but she did not kiss him, for sisterly kisses are hardly
known in the hills. Then she went out into the kitchen to help her
step-mother.

"Gittin' mighty busy, all of a sudden, ain't ye," said the sour
old woman, "now that ye air goin' away."