_Literary Monthly_, 1902.
THE LIFTING OF THE CLOUDS
SHEPARD ASHMAN MORGAN '06
All day long a reeking mist had been rolling across the valley, at
times all but obscuring the Peak where it rose between its pair of
flanking hills. Sifting clouds had surged and seethed in the Cleft, as
those who dwelt in its vicinity called the interval between the two
hills and the loftier and more distant Peak, and rose now and then
barely enough to reveal the greater mountain, but never yet had quite
cleared the summit. The mist had slimed the whole world with a coating
of wet, and when the wind chanced to set the bare limbs of the trees
to swaying, the drops would spatter on the ground and scarcely be
absorbed, so waterlogged was the earth.
Mrs. Trent rolled up her knitting in a napkin, picked a few stray bits
of yarn from her black dress, and stepped to the window. She looked
out across the valley toward the Cleft to see if perchance the clouds
would open enough to permit her a view of the Peak. Not once, but many
times that day had she arisen from her work to search for a glimpse of
the mountain, but every time she had failed.
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