|Date:||Wed, 9 Aug 2006 23:54:42 +0200|
All that day Niels slept: a deep, sunken sleep. Thefrown on his brow deepened into a scowl. A slow, numbing dread took hold of Bobby . Thecreaking and rattling of the wheels echoed back to the driver whosat hushed on the load. He went to the shack again and lighted the stove.
He finished and made an attempt to rise: the attempt failed or wasgiven up.
For a moment the sight of all the farms recalled him toreality. On the yard man and wife werepitching off their load.
And he that increasethknowledge increaseth sorrow . It was Bobby, too, who, when winter came began the work in thebush. He would never be quiteso happy again; but he would be more thoughtful . All was still, so still that he heard the fluttering of the wingsof a bird flitting by. In another half hour he was south of his yard; and then, behind thegranary.
Niels, Bobby cried again, what are you going to do? He brushed the horses, untied them, andopened the door to the lot.
Bobby, he said at last, youve been a son to me.
He went blindly, with unseeing eyes, unthinking brain.
Niels watched this with fascination: he counted the things whichthus disappeared.
He stopped at once: the sound jarred on the silence. Atlast he turned north again, along pig-pens and milk-house, till hereached the garden.
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