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Schreiner, Olive, 1855-1920

"The Story of an African Farm, a novel"

"I always did know he was not right; but
this evening any one could see it," she added, wiping the tears of mirth
from her face. "His eyes are as wild as if the devil was in them. He
never was like other children. The dear Lord knows, if he doesn't walk
alone for hours talking to himself. If you sit in the room with him you
can see his lips moving the whole time; and if you talk to him twenty times
he doesn't hear you. Daft-eyes; he's as mad as mad can be."
This repetition of the word mad conveyed meaning to Bonaparte's mind. He
left off paddling his toes in the water.
"Mad, mad? I know that kind of mad," said Bonaparte, "and I know the thing
to give for it. The front end of a little horsewhip, the tip! Nice thing;
takes it out," said Bonaparte.
The Hottentot laughed, and translated.
"No more walking about and talking to themselves on this farm now," said
Bonaparte; "no more minding of sheep and reading of books at the same time.
The point of a horsewhip is a little thing, but I think he'll have a taste
of it before long." Bonaparte rubbed his hands and looked pleasantly
across his nose; and then the three laughed together grimly.
And Waldo in his cabin crouched in the dark in a corner, with his knees
drawn up to his chin.

Chapter 1.X. He Shows His Teeth.
Doss sat among the karoo bushes, one yellow ear drawn over his wicked
little eye, ready to flap away any adventurous fly that might settle on his
nose.


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