the story of an african farm-第18节

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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　showed　how　the　shears　would　work

with　a　little　guidance；　how　the　sheep　would　be　held；　and　the　wool　fall　into

the　trough。　　A　flush　burst　over　his　face　as　he　spoke。



〃I　tell　you　what；　my　lad；〃　said　Bonaparte　emphatically；　when　the

explanation　was　finished；　〃we　must　get　you　a　patent。　　Your　fortune　is　made。

In　three　years'　time　there'll　not　be　a　farm　in　this　colony　where　it　isn't

working。　　You're　a　genius；　that's　what　you　are！〃　said　Bonaparte；　rising。



〃If　it　were　made　larger；〃　said　the　boy；　raising　his　eyes；　〃it　would　work

more　smoothly。　　Do　you　think　there　would　be　any　one　in　this　colony　would　be

able　to　make　it？〃



〃I'm　sure　they　could；〃　said　Bonaparte；　〃and　if　not；　why　I'll　do　my　best　for

you。　　I'll　send　it　to　England。　　It　must　be　done　somehow。　　How　long　have　you

worked　at　it？〃



〃Nine　months；〃　said　the　boy。



〃Oh；　it　is　such　a　nice　little　machine；〃　said　Bonaparte；　〃one　can't　help

feeling　an　interest　in　it。　　There　is　only　one　little　improvement；　one　very

little　improvement；　I　should　like　to　make。〃



Bonaparte　put　his　foot　on　the　machine　and　crushed　it　into　the　sand。　　The

boy　looked　up　into　his　face。



〃Looks　better　now；〃　said　Bonaparte；　〃doesn't　it？　　If　we　can't　have　it　made

in　England　we'll　send　it　to　America。　　Good…bye；　ta…ta；〃　he　added。　　〃You're

a　great　genius；　a　born　genius；　my　dear　boy；　there's　no　doubt　about　it。〃



He　mounted　the　grey　mare　and　rode　off。　　The　dog　watched　his　retreat　with

cynical　satisfaction；　but　his　master　lay　on　the　ground　with　his　head　on　his

arms　in　the　sand；　and　the　little　wheels　and　chips　of　wood　lay　on　the　ground

around　him。　　The　dog　jumped　on　to　his　back　and　snapped　at　the　black　curls；

till；　finding　that　no　notice　was　taken；　he　walked　off　to　play　with　a　black

beetle。　　The　beetle　was　hard　at　work　trying　to　roll　home　a　great　ball　of

dung　it　had　been　collecting　all　the　morning：　　but　Doss　broke　the　ball；　and

ate　the　beetle's　hind　legs；　and　then　bit　off　its　head。　　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。　　He　had　often　wondered　what　was　up　there；

he　liked　to　know　what　was　in　all　locked…up　places　and　out…of…the…way

corners；　but　he　was　afraid　to　climb　the　ladder。　　So　Bonaparte　looked　up；

and　in　the　name　of　all　that　was　tantalizing；　questioned　what　the　boy　did　up

there。　　The　loft　was　used　only　as　a　lumber…room。　　What　could　the　fellow

find　up　there　to　keep　him　so　long？



Could　the　Boer…woman　have　beheld　Waldo　at　that　instant；　any　lingering　doubt

which　might　have　remained　in　her　mind　as　to　the　boy's　insanity　would

instantly　have　vanished。　　For；　having　filled　the　salt…pot；　he　proceeded　to

look　for　the　box　of　books　among　the　rubbish　that　filled　the　loft。　　Under　a

pile　of　sacks　he　found　ita　rough　packing…case；　nailed　up；　but　with　one

loose　plank。　　He　lifted　that；　and　saw　the　even　backs　of　a　row　of　books。　　He

knelt　down　before　the　box；　and　ran　his　hand　along　its　rough　edges；　as　if　to

assure　himself　of　its　existence。　　He　stuck　his　hand　in　among　the　books；　and

pulled　out　two。　　He　felt　them；　thrust　his　fingers　in　among　the　leaves；　and

crumpled　them　a　little；　as　a　lover　feels　the　hair　of　his　mistress。　　The

fellow　gloated　over　his　treasure。　　He　had　had　a　dozen　books　in　the　course

of　his　life；　now　here　was　a　mine　of　them　opened　at　his　feet。　　After　a　while

he　began　to　read　the　titles；　and　now　and　again　opened　a　book　and　read　a

sentence；　but　he　was　too　excited　to　catch　the　meanings　distinctly。　　At　last

he　came　to　a　dull；　brown　volume。　　He　read　the　name；　opened　it　in　the

centre；　and　where　he　opened　began　to　read。　　It　was　a　chapter　on　property

that　he　fell　uponCommunism；　Fourierism；　St。　Simonism；　in　a　work　on

Political　Economy。　　He　read　down　one　page　and　turned　over　to　the　next；　he

read　down　that　without　changing　his　posture　by　an　inch；　he　read　the　next；

and　the　next；　kneeling　up　all　the　while　with　the　book　in　his　hand；　and　his

lips　parted。



All　he　read　he　did　not　fully　understand；　the　thoughts　were　new　to　him；　but

this　was　the　fellow's　startled　joy　in　the　bookthe　thoughts　were　his；　they

belonged　to　him。　　He　had　never　thought　them　before；　but　they　were　his。



He　laughed　silently　and　internally；　with　the　still　intensity　of　triumphant

joy。



So；　then；　all　thinking　creatures　did　not　send　up　the　one　cry〃As　thou；

dear　Lord；　has　created　things　in　the　beginning；　so　are　they　now；　so　ought

they　to　be；　so　will　they　be；　world　without　end；　and　it　doesn't　concern　us

what　they　are。　　Amen。〃　　There　were　men　to　whom　not　only　kopjes　and　stones

were　calling　out　imperatively；　〃What　are　we；　and　how　came　we　here？　

Understand　us；　and　know　us；〃　but　to　whom　even　the　old；　old　relations

between　man　and　man；　and　the　customs　of　the　ages　called；　and　could　not　be

made　still　and　forgotten。



The　boy's　heavy　body　quivered　with　excitement。　　So　he　was　not　alone；　not

alone。　　He　could　not　quite　have　told　any　one　why　he　was　so　glad；　and　this

warmth　had　come　to　him。　　His　cheeks　were　burning。　　No　wonder　that　Bonaparte

called　in　vain；　and　Doss　put　his　paws　on　the　ladder；　and　whined　till　three…

quarters　of　an　hour　had　passed。　　At　last　the　boy　put　the　book　in　his　breast

and　buttoned　it　tightly　to　him。　　He　took　up　the　salt　pot；　and　went　to　the

top　of　the　ladder。　　Bonaparte；　with　his　hands　folded　under　his　coat…tails；

looked　up　when　he　appeared；　and　accosted　him。



〃You've　been　rather　a　long　time　up　there；　my　lad；〃　he　said；　as　the　boy

descended　with　a　tremulous　haste；　most　unlike　his　ordinary　slow　movements。

〃You　didn't　hear　me　calling；　I　suppose？〃



Bonaparte　whisked　the　tails　of　his　coat　up　and　down　as　he　looked　at　him。　

He；　Bonaparte　Blenkins；　had　eyes　which　were　very　far…seeing。　　He　looked　at

the　pot。　　It　was　rather　a　small　pot　to　have　taken　three…quarters　of　an　hour

in　the　filling。　　He　looked　at　the　face。　　It　was　flushed。　　And　yet；　Tant

Sannie　kept　no　winehe　had　not　been　drinking；　his　eyes　were　wide　open　and

brighthe　had　not　been　sleeping；　there　was　no　girl　up　therehe　had　not

been　making　love。　　Bonaparte　looked　at　him　sagaciously。　　What　would　account

for　the　marvellous　change　in　the　boy　coming　down　the　ladder　from　the　boy

going　up　the　ladder？　　One　thing　there　was。　　Did　not　Tant　Sannie　keep　in　the

loft　bultongs；　and　nice　smoked　sausages？　　There　must　be　something　nice　to

eat　up　there！　　Aha！　that　was　it！



Bonaparte　was　so　interested　in　carrying　out　this　chain　of　inductive

reasoning　that　he　quite　forgot　to　have　his　boots　blacked。



He　watched　the　boy　shuffle　off　with　the　salt…pot　under　his　arm；　then　he

stood　in　his　doorway　and　raised　his　eyes　to　the　quiet　bl