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Schreiner, Olive, 1855-1920

"The Story of an African Farm, a novel"


Suddenly his eyes opened wide; something was coming from the direction of
the homestead. Winking his eyes and looking intently, he perceived it was
the grey mare. Now Doss had wondered much of late what had become of her
master. Seeing she carried some one on her back, he now came to his own
conclusion, and began to move his tail violently up and down. Presently he
pricked up one ear and let the other hang; his tail became motionless, and
the expression of his mouth was one of decided disapproval bordering on
scorn. He wrinkled his lips up on each side into little lines.
The sand was soft, and the grey mare came on so noiselessly that the boy
heard nothing till Bonaparte dismounted. Then Doss got up and moved back a
step. He did not approve of Bonaparte's appearance. His costume, in
truth, was of a unique kind. It was a combination of the town and country.
The tails of his black cloth coat were pinned up behind to keep them from
rubbing; he had on a pair of moleskin trousers and leather gaiters, and in
his hand he carried a little whip of rhinoceros hide.
Waldo started and looked up. Had there been a moment's time he would have
dug a hole in the sand with his hands and buried his treasure. It was only
a toy of wood, but he loved it, as one of necessity loves what has been
born of him, whether of the flesh or spirit.


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