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Schreiner, Olive, 1855-1920

"The Story of an African Farm, a novel"

"You'll let me kiss you, Em, just for
old friendship's sake." He stooped down. "You must look upon me as a dear
brother, as a cousin at least; as long as I am on the farm I shall always
be glad to help you, Em."
Soon after the brown pony was cantering along the footpath to the daub-and-
wattle house, and his master as he rode whistled John Speriwig and the
Thorn Kloof Schottische.
The sun had not yet touched the outstretched arms of the prickly pear upon
the kopje, and the early cocks and hens still strutted about stiffly after
the night's roost, when Waldo stood before the wagon-house saddling the
grey mare. Every now and then he glanced up at the old familiar objects:
they had a new aspect that morning. Even the cocks, seen in the light of
parting, had a peculiar interest, and he listened with conscious attention
while one crowed clear and loud as it stood on the pigsty wall. He wished
good morning softly to the Kaffer woman who was coming up from the huts to
light the fire. He was leaving them all to that old life, and from his
height he looked down on them pityingly. So they would keep on crowing,
and coming to light fires, when for him that old colourless existence was
but a dream.
He went into the house to say good-bye to Em, and then he walked to the
door of Lyndall's room to wake her; but she was up, and standing in the
doorway.


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