|
The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from My Antonia by Willa Cather: purple-red, with a thin silvery glaze over them. Some hens and ducks
had crept through the hedge and were pecking at the fallen apples.
The drakes were handsome fellows, with pinkish grey bodies,
their heads and necks covered with iridescent green feathers
which grew close and full, changing to blue like a peacock's neck.
Antonia said they always reminded her of soldiers--some uniform
she had seen in the old country, when she was a child.
`Are there any quail left now?' I asked. I reminded her how she
used to go hunting with me the last summer before we moved to town.
`You weren't a bad shot, Tony. Do you remember how you used to want
to run away and go for ducks with Charley Harling and me?'
My Antonia |
