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Schreiner, Olive, 1855-1920

"The Story of an African Farm, a novel"


"How has he grown so young in this one night?" they said when they found
him in the morning.
Yes, dear old man; to such as you time brings no age. You die with the
purity and innocence of your childhood upon you, though you die in your
grey hairs.

Chapter 1.IX. He Sees A Ghost.
Bonaparte stood on the ash-heap. He espied across the plain a moving speck
and he chucked his coat-tails up and down in expectancy of a scene.
The wagon came on slowly. Waldo laid curled among the sacks at the back of
the wagon, the hand in his breast resting on the sheep-shearing machine.
It was finished now. The right thought had struck him the day before as he
sat, half asleep, watching the water go over the mill-wheel. He muttered
to himself with half-closed eyes:
"Tomorrow smooth the cogs--tighten the screws a little--show it to them."
Then after a pause--"Over the whole world--the whole world--mine, that I
have made!" He pressed the little wheels and pulleys in his pocket till
they cracked. Presently his muttering became louder--"And fifty pounds--a
black hat for my dadda--for Lyndall a blue silk, very light; and one purple
like the earth-bells, and white shoes." He muttered on--"A box full, full
of books. They shall tell me all, all, all," he added, moving his fingers
desiringly: "why the crystals grow in such beautiful shapes; why lightning
runs to the iron; why black people are black; why the sunlight makes things
warm.


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