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From: | Mabel Delgado |
Subject: | [Free-dev] unsuitable |
Date: | Thu, 21 Sep 2006 04:12:16 +0300 |
Abe had never expected Ruth to do any farm work,
not even to carrywater or fuel into the house.
But, still standing in his place, heshrugged his
shoulders. I know its hard,living that way, all by yourself.
She sank into a chair by the door, covering her
face with an apron.
It would have been hard todefine his
_expression_.
Trouble is, Ill have to owe you themoney it costs.
Plates wereinverted on the oilcloth of the table; cups in their saucers. Ihad
nothing but a hand plough when I came.
Unless I know that Ican crop that fallow next year,
I wont earn wages for my work. Theyll get past hereafter all this
summer.
You, Nicoll said at last, were of course in a
different positionwhen you arrived.
When they met again, Nicoll pursued the topic.
Altogether, this was the most anxious winter he had spent on thefarm.
Listen here, he said, shaken, and his voice
betrayed him.
There had been a time when both hadforeseen the
coming estrangement and dreaded its approach.
Ivebeen watching these threshing outfits. Such
curious, harrying thoughts could beshaken off only by desperate spurts of work. It
was, of course, impossible to rogue three hundredacres of grain; he did what he
could. But rather than stayalone, let niggers and Chinamen come.
The second outfit was visibly forging ahead. Come,
Abe said to Ruth; and again he took her arm.
While you do your own work, farming is boundto
pay.
Whenever Abelooked away for a second, he noticed
the progress made in theinterval. Im buying more land and proving up on the
homestead.
If all helpers were like Nicoll, it would not be
bad.
The second outfit was visibly forging ahead. But
Ruth wasconsciously isolating herself, making that a point of pride whichhad been a
grievance.
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