the story of an african farm-第22部分

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sacrament　Sunday；　there　would　still　have　been　something　unanointed　in　the

aspect　of　the　fellow。　　As　it　was；　standing　there　in　his　strange　old

costume；　his　head　presenting　much　the　appearance　of　having　been　deeply

rolled　in　sand；　his　eyelids　swollen；　the　hair　hanging　over　his　forehead；

and　a　dogged　sullenness　on　his　features；　he　presented　most　the　appearance

of　an　ill…conditioned　young　buffalo。



〃Beloved　Lord；〃　cried　Tant　Sannie；　〃how　he　looks！　　Come　in；　boy。　　Couldn't

you　come　and　say　good…day　to　me？　　Don't　you　want　some　supper？〃



He　said　he　wanted　nothing；　and　turned　his　heavy　eyes　away　from　her。



〃There's　a　ghost　been　seen　in　your　father's　room；〃　said　Tant　Sannie。　　〃If

you're　afraid　you　can　sleep　in　the　kitchen。〃



〃I　will　sleep　in　our　room；〃　said　the　boy　slowly。



〃Well；　you　can　go　now；〃　she　said；　〃but　be　up　early　to　take　the　sheep。　　The

herd〃



〃Yes；　be　up　early；　my　boy；〃　interrupted　Bonaparte；　smiling。　　〃I　am　to　be

master　of　this　farm　now；　and　we　shall　be　good　friends；　I　trust；　very　good

friends；　if　you　try　to　do　your　duty；　my　dear　boy。〃



Waldo　turned　to　go；　and　Bonaparte；　looking　benignly　at　the　candle；

stretched　out　one　unstockinged　foot；　over　which　Waldo；　looking　at　nothing

in　particular；　fell　with　a　heavy　thud　upon　the　floor。



〃Dear　me！　　I　hope　you　are　not　hurt；　my　boy；〃　said　Bonaparte。　　〃You'll　have

many　a　harder　thing　than　that　though；　before　you've　gone　through　life；〃　he

added　consolingly；　as　Waldo　picked　himself　up。



The　lean　Hottentot　laughed　till　the　room　rang　again；　and　Tant　Sannie

tittered　till　her　sides　ached。



When　he　had　gone　the　little　maid　began　to　wash　Bonaparte's　feet。



〃Oh；　Lord；　beloved　Lord；　how　he　did　fall！　　I　can't　think　of　it；〃　cried　Tant

Sannie；　and　she　laughed　again。　　〃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。　　Around　him　in　the　morning　sunlight　fed　the　sheep；　behind　him　lay　his

master　polishing　his　machine。　　He　found　much　comfort　in　handling　it　that

morning。　　A　dozen　philosophical　essays；　or　angelically　atuned　songs　for　the

consolation　of　the　bereaved；　could　never　have　been　to　him　what　that　little

sheep…shearing　machine　was　that　day。



After　struggling　to　see　the　unseeable；　growing　drunk　with　the　endeavour　to

span　the　infinite；　and　writhing　before　the　inscrutable　mystery；　it　is　a

renovating　relief　to　turn　to　some　simple；　feelable；　weighable　substance；　to

something　which　has　a　smell　and　a　colour；　which　may　be　handled　and　turned

over　this　way　and　that。　　Whether　there　be　or　be　not　a　hereafter；　whether

there　be　any　use　in　calling　aloud　to　the　Unseen　power；　whether　there　be　an

Unseen　power　to　call　to；　whatever　be　the　true　nature　of　the　〃I〃　who　call

and　of　the　objects　around　me；　whatever　be　our　meaning；　our　internal

essence；　our　cause　（and　in　a　certain　order　of　minds　death　and　the　agony　of

loss　inevitably　awaken　the　wild　desire；　at　other　times　smothered；　to　look

into　these　things）；　whatever　be　the　nature　of　that　which　lies　beyond　the

unbroken　wall　which　the　limits　of　the　human　intellect　build　up　on　every

hand；　this　thing　is　certaina　knife　will　cut　wood；　and　one　cogged　wheel

will　turn　another。　　This　is　sure。



Waldo　found　an　immeasurable　satisfaction　in　the　handling　of　his　machine；

but　Doss　winked　and　blinked；　and　thought　it　all　frightfully　monotonous　out

there　on　the　flat；　and　presently　dropped　asleep；　sitting　bolt　upright。　

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。　　When　cold　eyes　have　looked　at

it；　the　feathers　are　rubbed　off　our　butterfly's　wing　forever。



〃What　have　you　here；　my　lad？〃　said　Bonaparte；　standing　by　him；　and　pointing

with　the　end　of　his　whip　to　the　medley　of　wheels　and　hinges。



The　boy　muttered　something　inaudible；　and　half　spread　over　the　thing。



〃But　this　seems　to　be　a　very　ingenious　little　machine；〃　said　Bonaparte；

seating　himself　on　the　antheap；　and　bending　down　over　it　with　deep

interest。　　〃What　is　it　for；　my　lad？〃



〃Shearing　sheep。〃



〃It　is　a　very　nice　little　machine；〃　said　Bonaparte。　　〃How　does　it　work；

now？　　I　have　never　seen　anything　so　ingenious！〃



There　was　never　a　parent　who　heard　deception　in　the　voice　that　praised　his

childhis　first…born。　　Here　was　one　who　liked　the　thing　that　had　been

created　in　him。　　He　forgot　everything。　　He