Around Troupsburg The night unwinds its skein of silver-blue wool around the moon and trains its face to glow upon the lonely Amish barn roof and the silent silo. The merciful day drapes its yellow throw from Smucker’s Rise to Jericho Hill across the husky rolling shoulders holding the fallen beyond the horizon. Little wonder these caretakers of hoe and horse plow hold with a will greater than their own— its infinite tenderness and pity; its correction. They give thanks...
