SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 115 | Next

Schreiner, Olive, 1855-1920

"The Story of an African Farm, a novel"

And it was all
play, and no one could tell what it had lived and worked for. A striving,
and a striving, and an ending in nothing.

Chapter 1.XI. He Snaps.
"I have found something in the loft," said Em to Waldo, who was listlessly
piling cakes of fuel on the kraal wall, a week after. "It is a box of
books that belonged to my father. We thought Tant Sannie had burnt them."
The boy put down the cake he was raising and looked at her.
"I don't think they are very nice, not stories," she added, "but you can go
and take any you like."
So saying, she took up the plate in which she had brought his breakfast,
and walked off to the house.
After that the boy worked quickly. The pile of fuel Bonaparte had ordered
him to pack was on the wall in half an hour. He then went to throw salt on
the skins laid out to dry. Finding the pot empty, he went to the loft to
refill it.
Bonaparte Blenkins, whose door opened at the foot of the ladder, saw the
boy go up, and stood in the doorway waiting for his return. He wanted his
boots blacked. Doss, finding he could not follow his master up the round
bars, sat patiently at the foot of the ladder. Presently he looked up
longingly, but no one appeared. Then Bonaparte looked up also, and began
to call; but there was no answer. What could the boy be doing? The loft
was an unknown land to Bonaparte.


Pages:
103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127