Explore "The Riddle of Three-Way Creek" by Ridgwell Cullum on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
A world of smiling hope looked out of the man's tired blue eyes. The sky was brilliant, and flecked with fine-weather cloud. The air was full of a warmth that was increasing with each passing day. The whole world about him was bursting with renewed life. He felt that the battle had been fought out. At long last the prospect of ultimate victory was infinitely more than a vain hope.
His face and body were painfully thin. But the full ravages, induced by the privations he had suffered during the desperate months of winter, were largely concealed under a thick growth of grey beard and whisker. His hair was long, with scarcely a streak of its original colour remaining. And its white strands reached to the decayed collar of a coat that would have ill-become the body of a "hoboe. " His nether garments were worn and patched, and painfully soil-stained. But his thin body was unbowed, and the spirit looking out of his eyes was undismayed.