Frank Yerby
Frank Yerby

About fifteen miles above New Orleans the river goes very slowly. It has broadened out there until it is almost a sea and the water is yellow with the mud of half a continent. Where the sun strikes it, it is golden.

Frank Yerby
Frank Yerby

From where they stood, they could see the castle.

Frank Yerby
Frank Yerby

When it was over, it was not really over, and that was the trouble.

Frank Yerby
Frank Yerby

There was no wind in all that sweep of sky.