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A WORN PATH PDF

Friday, November 15, 2019


It was December—a bright frozen day in the early morning. Far out in the country there was an old Negro woman with her head tied in a red rag, coming along a. an old Negro woman with her head tied in a red rag, coming along a path through the pinewoods. Her name was Phoenix Jackson. She was very old and small. Eudora Welty's ''A Worn Path,'' first published in Atlantic Monthly in February, , is the tale of Phoenix. Jackson's journey through the woods.


A Worn Path Pdf

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A Worn Path - Download as Word Doc .doc /.docx), PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt ) or read online. Summary: “A Worn Path” is a short story written by Eudora Welty in The story is set on the. Natchez Trace and the town of Natchez, MS. The protagonist is . resourceone.info File Size: 33 kb resourceone.infot_worksheet. docx. File Size: 15 resourceone.info File Size: .

Note how she feels free to commune with nature, and how she is grateful to God for whatever small blessings are afforded her. Only when she touches it does she realize it is not a real man. The scarecrow seems at first like it might be a lynched black man, a sudden intrusion of the social violence that faces black people in the South upon what had up until now seemed just a trial of Phoenix against nature.

Download it! Coming to the wagon track, she assumes the journey will be easier. She happens upon an old well of unknown origins—unknown because it existed from before her birth. She tries to reach up and, finding no one, just waits. Phoenix thinks, understandably, that as the road itself gets easier the journey will be easier, but as it turns out as she moves deeper into the more populated areas of Mississippi things get more difficult.

She stands up to the dog, and even when she fails she accepts her fate. Reaching up her hand for help when no one is there could be taken for a sign of delusion, but it might also be taken as a sign of faith. She does not lose her cool and is clear-eyed about her situation.

Active Themes Related Quotes with Explanations A white hunter, a young man, soon comes along, with a dog on a chain.

A Worn Path | Study Guide

His disbelief that she would walk as far as he can demeans her based on her age. Phoenix outwits the white hunter by cleverly using his pride and feelings of racial superiority over blacks both herself and the dog against him, and she manages to steal a nickel with remarkable grace. The hunter claims that he would give her money if he had any with him, and tells her again to stay home so that nothing happens to her. As they part ways, she hears his gun going off repeatedly in the distance.

Instead he tells her to keep to her place in society—in her rural home. He then lies about not having any money — his lost nickel proves that he did at least have that.

Is God watching the hunter as he threatens and lies, too? Rather than the city being a place of comfort for Phoenix, it is a place of disorientation. Yet Phoenix is guided by instinct borne over many trips to make it to her destination. She has worn a path through the city.

Phoenix is aware that country clothes are inappropriate in the city. Active Themes Related Quotes with Explanations Phoenix enters the big building and climbs up flights of stairs until her feet tell her where to stop.

Logging out…

She enters a room and sees a document with a gold seal in a gold frame. At last she was safe through the fence and risen up out in the clearing. Big dead trees, like black men with one arm, were standing in the purple stalks of the withered cotton field. There sat a buzzard. A pleasure I don't see no two-headed snake coming around that tree, where it come once.

It took a while to get by him, back in the summer. It whispered and shook, and was taller than her head. Then there was something tall, black, and skinny there, moving before her. At first she took it for a man. It could have been a man dancing in the field. But she stood still and listened, and it did not make a sound.

It was as silent as a ghost. For I have heard of nary death close by. She shut her eyes, reached out her hand, and touched a sleeve. She found a coat and inside that an emptiness, cold as ice. Her face lighted. I too old.

I the oldest people I ever know. Dance, old scarecrow,' she said, 'while I dancing with you.

Some husks blew down and whirled in streamers about her skirts. Then she went on, parting her way from side to side with the cane, through the whispering field. At last she came to the end, to a wagon track where the silver grass blew between the red ruts. The quail were walking around like pullets, seeming all dainty and unseen.

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This the easy going. In a ravine she went where a spring was silently flowing through a hollow log. Old Phoenix bent and drank. Deep, deep it went down between the high green-colored banks. Overhead the live oaks met, and it was as dark as a cave.

A big black dog with a lolling tongue came up out of the weeds by the ditch.

She was meditating, and not ready, and when he came at her she only hit him a little with her cane. Over she went in the ditch, like a little puff of milkweed.

Down there, her senses drifted away. A dream visited her, and she reached her hand up, but nothing reached down and gave her a pull. So she lay there and presently went to talking. He lifted her up, gave her a swing in the air, and set her down.

You can't even see it from here. That's as far as I walk when I come out myself, and I get something for my trouble. It was one of the bobwhites, with its beak hooked bitterly to show it was dead. Wouldn't miss going to town to see Santa Claus! The deep lines in her face went into a fierce and different radiation.

Without warning, she had seen with her own eyes a flashing nickel fall out of the man's pocket onto the ground. Look at that dog! He a big black dog. Sic him! She even heard a gunshot. But she was slowly bending forward by that time, further and further forward, the lids stretched down over her eyes, as if she were doing this in her sleep.

Her chin was lowered almost to her knees. The yellow palm of her hand came out from the fold of her apron. Her fingers slid down and along the ground under the piece of money with the grace and care they would have in lifting an egg from under a setting hen.

Then she slowly straightened up; she stood erect, and the nickel was in her apron pocket. A bird flew by. Her lips moved. I come to stealing. She stood straight and faced him. He smiled, and shouldered the gun.

I'd give you a dime if I had any money with me. But you take my advice and stay home, and nothing will happen to you. She inclined her head in the red rag. Then they went in different directions, but she could hear the gun shooting again and again over the hill. She walked on. The shadows hung from the oak trees to the road like curtains.

Then she smelled wood smoke, and smelled the river, and she saw a steeple and the cabins on their steep steps. Dozens of little black children whirled around her. There ahead was Natchez shining.

Bells were ringing. In the paved city it was Christmas time.

A Worn Path, Eudora Welty (PDF)

There were red and green electric lights strung and crisscrossed everywhere, and all turned on in the daytime. Old Phoenix would have been lost if she had not distrusted her eyesight and depended on her feet to know where to take her. She paused quietly on the sidewalk, where people were passing by. A lady came along in the crowd, carrying an armful of red, green, and silver-wrapped presents; she gave off perfume like the red roses in hot summer, and Phoenix stopped her.

She put her packages down on the sidewalk beside her and laced and tied both shoes tightly. I doesn't mind asking a nice lady to tie up my shoe, when I gets out on the street. She entered a door, and there she saw nailed up on the wall the document that had been stamped with the gold seal and framed in the gold frame, which matched the dream that was hung up in her head.

There was a fixed and ceremonial stiffness over her body. But Phoenix only looked above her head. There was sweat on her face, the wrinkles in her skin shone like a bright net. We must have your history, you know. Have you been here before?Phoenix definitely knows what that feels like. At first she took it for a man. Old Phoenix bent and drank. Phoenix really does find herself staring down the barrel of a gun, though, thanks to a hunter who puts one right in her face.

Seeing a buzzard, she asks it aloud what it is watching, and is glad that God made it so that snakes and other dangerous creatures are not out at this time of year.

He going to last. I too old.