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Schreiner, Olive, 1855-1920

"The Story of an African Farm, a novel"


It had been a princely day. The long morning had melted slowly into a rich
afternoon. Rains had covered the karoo with a heavy coat of green that hid
the red earth everywhere. In the very chinks of the stone walls dark green
leaves hung out, and beauty and growth had crept even into the beds of the
sandy furrows and lined them with weeds. On the broken sod walls of the
old pigsty chick-weeds flourished, and ice-plants lifted heir transparent
leaves. Waldo was at work in the wagon-house again. He was making a
kitchen table for Em. As the long curls gathered in heaps before his
plane, he paused for an instant now and again to throw one down to a small
naked nigger, who had crept from its mother, who stood churning in the
sunshine, and had crawled into the wagon-house.
From time to time the little animal lifted its fat hand as it expected a
fresh shower of curls; till Doss, jealous of his master's noticing any
other small creature but himself, would catch the curl in his mouth and
roll the little Kaffer over in the sawdust, much to that small animal's
contentment. It was too lazy an afternoon to be really ill-natured, so
Doss satisfied himself with snapping at the little nigger's fingers, and
sitting on him till he laughed. Waldo, as he worked, glanced down at them
now and then, and smiled; but he never looked out across the plain.


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