Old Uncle Rollin Coffee looked up from his hoeing and hailed Farmer Riley Ritchie, coming up the road.
"Well, Rile, I hear Andy's come home agin. Did he graduate this time?"
"Nope."
Uncle Rollin ran his callused fingers through his white hair, spat and said: "Well, Rile, I don't know nothin' about a college. But I know one thing. There must be a heap to larn at college or else your Andy larns mighty slow!"
But gaunt young Andrew Jackson Ritchie, back home in the Blue Ridge Mountains of northeastern Georgia for the second time because...
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