There was farming country and timber each way up the road.

The whole battery was drunk going along the road in the dark.

In the shanty nearest the road there was a light in the window.

The houses were in a big grove of elm trees and the road was very sandy.

When she saw the wagon coming down the road she felt weak and sick sort of inside.

The young Indian stopped and blew out his lantern and they all walked on along the road.

The men had moved off up the road to sit in the dark and smoke out of range of the noise she made.

Troops went by the house and down the road and the dust they raised powdered the leaves of the trees.

Up the road a ways was the Methodist church and down the road the other direction was the township school.

She liked it the way he walked over from the shop and often went to the kitchen door to watch for him to start down the road.

We went along the road all night in the dark and the adjutant kept riding up alongside my kitchen and saying, “You must put it out.”

The trunks of the trees too were dusty and the leaves fell early that year and we saw the troops marching along the road and the dust rising and leaves, stirred by the breeze, falling and the soldiers marching and afterward the road bare and white except for the leaves.

There were mists over the river and clouds on the mountain and the trucks splashed mud on the road and the troops were muddy and wet in their capes; their rifles were wet and under their capes the two leather cartridge-boxes on the front of the belts, gray leather boxes heavy with the packs of clips of thin, long 6.5 mm. cartridges, bulged forward under the capes so that the men, passing on the road, marched as though they were six months gone with child.