"Nothing，"saidLyndallquietly；"onlytheyhavelockedusin。"
　　Sheturned，andwentbacktobedagain。ButerelongEmheardasoundofmovement。Lyndallhadclimbedupintothewindow，andwithherfingersfeltthewoodworkthatsurroundedthepanes。Slippingdown，thegirlloosenedtheironknobfromthefootofthebedstead，andclimbingupagainshebrokewithiteverypaneofglassinthewindow，beginningatthetopandendingatthebottom。
　　"Whatareyoudoing？"askedEm，whoheardthefallingfragments。
　　Hercompanionmadehernoreply；butleanedoneverylittlecross—bar，whichcrackedandgavewaybeneathher。Thenshepressedwithallherstrengthagainsttheshutter。Shehadthoughtthewoodenbuttonswouldgiveway，butbytheclinkingsoundsheknewthattheironbarhadbeenputacross。Shewasquitequietforatime。Clamberingdown，shetookfromthetableasmallone—bladedpenknife，withwhichshebegantopeckatthehardwoodoftheshutter。
　　"Whatareyoudoingnow？"askedEm，whohadceasedcryinginherwonder，andhaddrawnnear。
　　"Tryingtomakeahole，"wastheshortreply。
　　"Doyouthinkyouwillbeableto？"
　　"No；butIamtrying。"
　　InanagonyofsuspenseEmwaited。FortenminutesLyndallpecked。Theholewasthree—eighthsofaninchdeep——thenthebladesprungintotenpieces。
　　"Whathashappenednow？"Emasked，blubberingafresh。
　　"Nothing，"saidLyndall。"Bringmemynightgown，apieceofpaper，andthematches。"
　　Wondering，Emfumbledabouttillshefoundthem。
　　"Whatareyougoingtodowiththem？"shewhispered。
　　"Burndownthewindow。"
　　"Butwon’tthewholehousetakefireandburndowntoo？"
　　"Yes。"
　　"Butwillitnotbeverywicked？"
　　"Yes，very。AndIdonotcare。"
　　Shearrangedthenightgowncarefullyinthecornerofthewindow，withthechipsoftheframeaboutit。Therewasonlyonematchinthebox。Shedrewitcarefullyalongthewall。Foramomentitburntupblue，andshowedthetinyfacewithitsglisteningeyes。Shehelditcarefullytothepaper。Foraninstantitburntupbrightly，thenflickeredandwentout。Sheblewthespark，butitdiedalso。Thenshethrewthepaperontotheground，trodonit，andwenttoherbed，andbegantoundress。
　　Emrushedtothedoor，knockingagainstitwildly。
　　"Oh，TantSannie！TantSannie！Oh，letusout！"shecried。"Oh，Lyndall，whatarewetodo？"
　　Lyndallwipedadropofbloodoffthelipshehadbitten。
　　"Iamgoingtosleep，"shesaid。"Ifyouliketositthereandhowltillthemorning，do。Perhapsyouwillfindthatithelps；Ineverheardthathowlinghelpedanyone。"
　　Longafter，whenEmherselfhadgonetobedandwasalmostasleep，Lyndallcameandstoodatherbedside。
　　"Here，"shesaid，slippingalittlepotofpowderintoherhand；"rubsomeontoyourface。Doesitnotburnwhereshestruckyou？"
　　Thenshecreptbacktoherownbed。Long，longafter，whenEmwasreallyasleep，shelaystillawake，andfoldedherhandsonherlittlebreast，andmuttered——
　　"Whenthatdaycomes，andIamstrong，Iwillhateeverythingthathaspower，andhelpeverythingthatisweak。"Andshebitherlipagain。
　　TheGermanlookedoutatthecabindoorforthelasttimethatnight。Thenhepacedtheroomslowlyandsighed。Thenhedrewoutpenandpaper，andsatdowntowrite，rubbinghisoldgreyeyeswithhisknucklesbeforehebegan。
　　"MyChickens：Youdidnotcometosaygood—byetotheoldman。Mightyou？
　　Ah，well，thereisalandwheretheypartnomore，wheresaintsimmortalreign。
　　"Isitherealone，andIthinkofyou。Willyouforgettheoldman？Whenyouwaketomorrowhewillbefaraway。Theoldhorseislazy，buthehashissticktohelphim；thatisthreelegs。Hecomesbackonedaywithgoldanddiamonds。Willyouwelcomehim？Well，weshallsee。IgotomeetWaldo。Hecomesbackwiththewagon；thenhefollowsme。Poorboy？Godknows。Thereisalandwhereallthingsaremaderight，butthatlandisnothere。
　　"Mylittlechildren，servetheSaviour；giveyourheartstoHimwhileyouareyetyoung。Lifeisshort。
　　"Nothingismine，otherwiseIwouldsay，Lyndall，takemybooks，Emmystones。NowIsaynothing。Thethingsaremine：itisnotrighteous，Godknows？ButIamsilent。Letitbe。ButIfeelit，ImustsayIfeelit。
　　"Donotcrytoomuchfortheoldman。Hegoesouttoseekhisfortune，andcomesbackwithitinabag，itmaybe。
　　"Ilovemychildren。Dotheythinkofme？IamOldOtto，whogoesouttoseekhisfortune。
　　O。F。"
　　Havingconcludedthisquaintproduction，heputitwherethechildrenwouldfinditthenextmorning，andproceededtopreparehisbundle。Heneverthoughtofenteringaprotestagainstthelossofhisgoods；likeachild，hesubmitted，andwept。Hehadbeenthereelevenyears，anditwashardtogoaway。Hespreadopenonthebedabluehandkerchief，andonitputonebyonethethingshethoughtmostnecessaryandimportant——alittlebagofcuriousseeds，whichhemeanttoplantsomeday，anoldGermanhymn—book，threemisshapenstonesthathegreatlyvalued，aBible，ashirtandtwohandkerchiefs；thentherewasroomfornothingmore。Hetiedupthebundletightlyandputitonachairbyhisbedside。
　　"Thatisnotmuch；theycannotsayItakemuch，"hesaid，lookingatit。
　　Heputhisknottedstickbesideit，hisbluetobaccobagandhisshortpipe，andtheninspectedhiscoats。Hehadtwoleft——amoth—eatenovercoatandablackalpaca，outattheelbows。Hedecidedfortheovercoat；itwaswarm，certainly，butthenhecouldcarryitoverhisarmandonlyputitonwhenhemetsomeonealongtheroad。Itwasmorerespectablethantheblackalpaca。
　　Hehungthegreatcoatoverthebackofthechair，andstuffedahardbitofroaster—cakeundertheknotofthebundle，andthenhispreparationswerecompleted。TheGermanstoodcontemplatingthemwithmuchsatisfaction。Hehadalmostforgottenhissorrowatleavinginhispleasureatpreparing。
　　Suddenlyhestarted；anexpressionofintensepainpassedoverhisface。
　　Hedrewbackhisleftarmquickly，andthenpressedhisrighthanduponhisbreast。
　　"Ah，thesuddenpangagain，"hesaid。
　　Hisfacewaswhite，butitquicklyregaineditscolour。Thentheoldmanbusiedhimselfinputtingeverythingright。
　　"Iwillleaveitneat。TheyshallnotsayIdidnotleaveitneat，"hesaid。Eventhelittlebagsofseedsonthemantelpieceheputinrowsanddusted。Thenheundressedandgotintobed。Underhispillowwasalittlestorybook。Hedrewitforth。TotheoldGermanastorywasnostory。Itseventswereasrealandasimportanttohimselfasthemattersofhisownlife。
　　HecouldnotgoawaywithoutknowingwhetherthatwickedearlrelentedandwhetherthebaronmarriedEmilina。Soheadjustedhisspectaclesandbegantoread。Occasionally，ashisfeelingsbecametoostronglymoved，heejaculated："Ah，Ithoughtso！Thatwasarogue！Isawitbefore！I
　　knewitfromthebeginning！"Morethanhalfanhourhadpassedwhenhelookeduptothesilverwatchatthetopofhisbed。
　　"Themarchislongtomorrow；thiswillnotdo，"hesaid，takingoffhisspectaclesandputtingthemcarefullyintothebooktomarktheplace。
　　"ThiswillbegoodreadingasIwalkalongtomorrow，"headded，ashestuffedthebookintothepocketofthegreatcoat；"verygoodreading。"Henoddedhisheadandlaydown。Hethoughtalittleofhisowntroubles，agooddealofthetwolittlegirlshewasleaving，oftheearl，ofEmilina，ofthebaron；buthewassoonasleep——sleepingaspeacefullyasalittlechild，uponwhoseinnocentsoulsorrowandcarecannotrest。
　　Itwasveryquietintheroom。Thecoalsinthefireplacethrewadullredlightacrossthefloorupontheredlionsonthequilt。Eleveno’clockcame，andtheroomwasverystill。
　　Oneo’clockcame。Theglimmerhaddiedout，thoughtheasheswerestillwarm，andtheroomwasverydark。Thegreymouse，whohadhisholeunderthetoolbox，cameoutandsatonthesacksinthecorner；then，growingbolder，theroomwassodark，itclimbedthechairatthebedside，nibbledattheroaster—cake，tookonebitequicklyatthecandle，andthensatonhishauncheslistening。Itheardtheevenbreathingoftheoldman，andthestepsofthehungryKafferdoggoinghislastroundinsearchofaboneoraskinthathadbeenforgotten；anditheardthewhitehencalloutasthewildcatranawaywithoneofherbrood，anditheardthechickencry。
　　Thenthegreymousewentbacktoitsholeunderthetoolbox，andtheroomwasquiet。Andtwoo’clockcame。Bythattimethenightwasgrowndullandcloudy。Thewildcathadgonetoitshomeonthekopje；theKafferdoghadfoundabone，andlaygnawingit。
　　Anintensequietreignedeverywhere。OnlyinherroomtheBoer—womantossedhergreatarmsinhersleep；forshedreamedthatadarkshadowwithoutstretchedwingsfledslowlyoverherhouse，andshemoanedandshivered。
　　Andthenightwasverystill。
　　But，quietasallplaceswere，therewasaquitepeculiarquietintheGerman’sroom。Thoughyoustrainedyourearmostcarefullyyoucaughtnosoundofbreathing。
　　Hewasnotgone，fortheoldcoatstillhungonthechair——thecoatthatwastobeputonwhenhemetanyone；andthebundleandstickwerereadyfortomorrow’slongmarch。TheoldGermanhimselflaythere，hiswavyblackhairjusttouchedwithgreythrownbackuponthepillow。Theoldfacewaslyingtherealoneinthedark，smilinglikealittlechild’s——oh，sopeacefully。Thereisastrangerwhosecoming，theysay，isworsethanalltheillsoflife，fromwhosepresencewefleeawaytrembling；buthecomesverytenderlysometimes。AnditseemedalmostasthoughDeathhadknownandlovedtheoldman，sogentlyittouchedhim。Andhowcoulditdealhardlywithhim——theloving，simple，childlikeoldman？
　　Soitsmoothedoutthewrinklesthatwereintheoldforehead，andfixedthepassingsmile，andsealedtheeyesthattheymightnotweepagain；andthentheshortsleepoftimewasmeltedintothelong，longsleepofeternity。
　　"Howhashegrownsoyounginthisonenight？"theysaidwhentheyfoundhiminthemorning。
　　Yes，dearoldman；tosuchasyoutimebringsnoage。Youdiewiththepurityandinnocenceofyourchildhooduponyou，thoughyoudieinyourgreyhairs。
　　Chapter1。IX。HeSeesAGhost。
　　Bonapartestoodontheash—heap。Heespiedacrosstheplainamovingspeckandhechuckedhiscoat—tailsupanddowninexpectancyofascene。
　　Thewagoncameonslowly。Waldolaidcurledamongthesacksatthebackofthewagon，thehandinhisbreastrestingonthesheep—shearingmachine。
　　Itwasfinishednow。Therightthoughthadstruckhimthedaybeforeashesat，halfasleep，watchingthewatergooverthemill—wheel。Hemutteredtohimselfwithhalf—closedeyes：
　　"Tomorrowsmooththecogs——tightenthescrewsalittle——showittothem。"
　　Thenafterapause——"Overthewholeworld——thewholeworld——mine，thatI
　　havemade！"Hepressedthelittlewheelsandpulleysinhispockettilltheycracked。Presentlyhismutteringbecamelouder——"Andfiftypounds——ablackhatformydadda——forLyndallabluesilk，verylight；andonepurpleliketheearth—bells，andwhiteshoes。"Hemutteredon——"Aboxfull，fullofbooks。Theyshalltellmeall，all，all，"headded，movinghisfingersdesiringly："whythecrystalsgrowinsuchbeautifulshapes；whylightningrunstotheiron；whyblackpeopleareblack；whythesunlightmakesthingswarm。Ishallread，read，read，"hemutteredslowly。Thencameoverhimsuddenlywhathecalled"ThepresenceofGod"；asenseofagood，strongsomethingfoldinghimround。Hesmiledthroughhishalf—shuteyes。"Ah，Father，myownFather，itissosweettofeelyou，likethewarmsunshine。
　　TheBiblesandbookscannottellofyouandallIfeelyou。Theyaremixedwithmen’swords；butyou——"
　　Hismutteringsankintoinaudibleconfusion，till，openinghiseyeswide，itstruckhimthatthebrownplainhelookedatwastheoldhomefarm。Forhalfanhourtheyhadbeenridinginit，andhehadnotknownit。Herousedtheleader，whosatnoddingonthefrontofthewagonintheearlymorningsunlight。Theywerewithinhalfamileofthehomestead。Itseemedtohimthathehadbeengonefromthemallayear。HefanciedhecouldseeLyndallstandingonthebrickwalltowatchforhim；hisfather，passingfromonehousetotheother，stoppingtolook。
　　Hecalledaloudtotheoxen。Foreachoneathomehehadbroughtsomething。Forhisfatherapieceoftobacco，boughtattheshopbythemill；forEmathimble；forLyndallabeautifulflowerdugoutbytheroots，ataplacewheretheyhadoutspanned；forTantSannieahandkerchief。WhentheydrewnearthehousehethrewthewhiptotheKafferleader，andsprungfromthesideofthewagontorunon。Bonapartestoppedhimasheranpasttheash—heap。
　　"Goodmorning，mydearboy。Whereareyourunningtosofastwithyourrosycheeks？"
　　Theboylookedupathim，gladeventoseeBonaparte。
　　"Iamgoingtothecabin，"hesaid，outofbreath。
　　"Youwon’tfindtheminjustnow——notyourgoodoldfather，"saidBonaparte。
　　"Whereishe？"askedthelad。
　　"There，beyondthecamps，"saidBonaparte，wavinghishandoratoricallytowardthestone—walledostrich—camps。
　　"Whatishedoingthere？"askedtheboy。
　　Bonapartepattedhimonthecheekkindly。
　　"Wecouldnotkeephimanymore，itwastoohot。We’veburiedhim，myboy，"saidBonaparte，touchingwithhisfingertheboy’scheek。Wecouldn’tkeephimanymore。He，he，he！"laughedBonaparte，astheboyfledawayalongthelowstonewall，almostfurtively，asoneinfear……
　　Atfiveo’clockBonapartekneltbeforeaboxintheGerman’sroom。Hewasbusilyunpackingit。
　　IthadbeenagreeduponbetweenTantSannieandhimself，thatnowtheGermanwasgonehe，Bonaparte，wastobenolongerschoolmaster，butoverseerofthefarm。Inreturnforhispastscholasticlabourshehadexpressedhimselfwillingtotakepossessionofthedeadman’sgoodsandroom。TantSanniehardlylikedthearrangement。ShehadagreatdealmorerespectfortheGermandeadthantheGermanliving，andwouldratherhisgoodshadbeenallowedtodescendpeacefullytohisson。Forshewasafirmbelieverinthechinksintheworldabove，wherenotonlyears，buteyesmightbeappliedtoseehowthingswentoninthisworldbelow。Sheneverfeltsurehowfarthespirit—worldmightoverlapthisworldofsense，and，asarule，prudentlyabstainedfromdoinganythingwhichmightoffendunseenauditors。Forthisreasonsheabstainedfromill—usingthedeadEnglishman’sdaughterandniece，andforthisreasonshewouldrathertheboyhadhadhisfather’sgoods。ButitwashardtorefuseBonaparteanythingwhensheandhesatsohappilytogetherintheeveningdrinkingcoffee，BonapartetellingherinthebrokenDutchhewasfastlearninghowheadoredfatwomen，andwhatasplendidfarmerhewas。
　　Soatfiveo’clockonthisafternoonBonapartekneltintheGerman’sroom。
　　"Somewhere，hereitis，"hesaid，ashepackedtheoldclothescarefullyoutofthebox，and，findingnothing，packedtheminagain。"Somewhereinthisroomitis；andifit’shereBonapartefindsit，"herepeated。"Youdidn’tstayherealltheseyearswithoutmakingalittlepilesomewhere，mylamb。Youweren’tsuchafoolasyoulooked。Oh，no！"saidBonaparte。
　　Henowwalkedabouttheroom，divinghisfingersineverywhere：stickingthemintothegreatcrevicesinthewallandfrighteningoutthespiders；
　　rappingthemagainsttheoldplastertillitcrackedandfellinpieces；
　　peeringupthechimney，tillthesootdroppedonhisbaldheadandblackenedit。Hefeltinlittlebluebags；hetriedtoraisethehearth—
　　stone；heshookeachbook，tilltheoldleavesfelldowninshowersonthefloor。
　　Itwasgettingdark，andBonapartestoodwithhisfingeronhisnosereflecting。Finallyhewalkedtothedoor，behindwhichhungthetrousersandwaistcoatthedeadmanhadlastworn。Hehadfeltinthem，buthurriedly，justafterthefuneralthedaybefore；hewouldexaminethemagain。Stickinghisfingersintothewaistcoatpockets，hefoundinonecornerahole。Pressinghishandthroughit，betweentheliningandthecloth，hepresentlycameintocontactwithsomething。Bonapartedrewitforth——asmall，squareparcel，sewedupinsail—cloth。Hegazedatit，squeezedit；itcracked，asthoughfullofbank—notes。Heputitquicklyintohisownwaistcoatpocket，andpeepedoverthehalf—doortoseeiftherewasanyonecoming。Therewasnothingtobeseenbutthelastraysofyellowsunsetlight，paintingthekaroobushesintheplain，andshiningontheash—heap，wherethefowlswerepecking。Heturnedandsatdownonthenearestchair，and，takingouthispen—knife，rippedtheparcelopen。
　　Thefirstthingthatfellwasashowerofyellowfadedpapers。Bonaparteopenedthemcarefullyonebyone，andsmoothedthemoutonhisknee。Therewassomethingveryvaluabletobehiddensocarefully，thoughtheGermancharactershecouldnotdecipher。Whenhecametothelastone，hefelttherewassomethinghardinit。
　　"You’vegotit，Bon，myboy！you’vegotit！"hecried，slappinghisleghard。Edgingnearertothedoor，forthelightwasfading，heopenedthepapercarefully。Therewasnothinginsidebutaplaingoldwedding—ring。
　　"Betterthannothing！"saidBonaparte，tryingtoputitonhislittlefinger，which，however，provedtoofat。
　　Hetookitoffandsetitdownonthetablebeforehim，andlookedatitwithhiscrosswiseeyes。
　　"Whenthatauspicioushour，Sannie，"hesaid，"shallhavearrived，when，panting，Ishallleadthee，lightedbyHymen’storch，totheconnubialaltar，thenuponthyfairamaranthinefinger，myjoyousbride，shallthisringrepose。
　　"Thyfairbody，oh，mygirl，ShallBonapartepossess；
　　Hisfingersinthymoney—bags，Hetherein，too，shallmess。"
　　Havinggivenutterancetothisfloodofpoesy，hesatlostinjoyousreflection。
　　"Hetherein，too，shallmess，"herepeatedmeditatively。
　　Atthisinstant，asBonaparteswore，andsworetrulytotheendofhislife，aslowanddistinctrapwasgivenonthecrownofhisbaldhead。
　　Bonapartestartedandlookedup。Noriemorstrap，hungdownfromtheraftersabove，andnotahumancreaturewasnearthedoor。Itwasgrowingdark；hedidnotlikeit。Hebegantofoldupthepapersexpeditiously。
　　Hestretchedouthishandforthering。Theringwasgone！Gone，althoughnohumancreaturehadenteredtheroom；gone，althoughnoformhadcrossedthedoorway。Gone！
　　Hewouldnotsleepthere，thatwascertain。
　　Hestuffedthepapersintohispocket。Ashedidso，threeslowanddistincttapsweregivenonthecrownofhishead。Bonaparte’sjawfell：
　　eachseparatejointlostitspower：hecouldnotmove；hedarednotrise；
　　histonguelaylooseinhismouth。
　　"Takeall，takeall！"hegurgledinhisthroat。"I——Idonotwantthem。
　　Take"——
　　Herearesolutetugatthegreycurlsatthebackofhisheadcausedhimtoleapup，yellingwildly。Washetositstillparalyzed，tobedraggedawaybodilytothedevil？Withterrificshriekshefled，castingnoglancebehind……
　　Whenthedewwasfalling，andtheeveningwasdark，asmallfiguremovedtowardthegateofthefurthestostrich—camp，drivingabirdbeforeit。
　　Whenthegatewasopenedandthebirddriveninandthegatefastened，itturnedaway，butthensuddenlypausednearthestonewall。
　　"Isthatyou，Waldo？"saidLyndall，hearingasound。
　　Theboywassittingonthedampgroundwithhisbacktothewall。Hegavehernoanswer。
　　"Come，"shesaid，bendingoverhim，"Ihavebeenlookingforyouallday。"
　　Hemumbledsomething。
　　"Youhavehadnothingtoeat。Ihaveputsomesupperinyourroom。Youmustcomehomewithme，Waldo。"
　　Shetookhishand，andtheboyroseslowly。
　　Shemadehimtakeherarm，andtwistedhersmallfingersamonghis。
　　"Youmustforget，"shewhispered。"SinceithappenedIwalk，Italk，I
　　neversitstill。Ifweremember，wecannotbringbackthedead。"Sheknitherlittlefingerscloseramonghis。"Forgettingisthebestthing。Hedidwatchitcoming，"shewhisperedpresently。"Thatisthedreadfulthing，toseeitcoming！"Sheshuddered。"Iwantittocomesotometoo。
　　WhydoyouthinkIwasdrivingthatbird？"sheaddedquickly。"ThatwasHans，thebirdthathatesBonaparte。Ilethimoutthisafternoon；I
　　thoughthewouldchasehimandperhapskillhim。"
　　Theboyshowednosignofinterest。
　　"Hedidnotcatchhim；butheputhisheadoverthehalf—doorofyourcabinandfrightenedhimhorribly。Hewasthere，busystealingyourthings。
　　Perhapshewillleavethemalonenow；butIwishthebirdhadtroddenonhim。"
　　Theysaidnomoretilltheyreachedthedoorofthecabin。
　　"Thereisacandleandsupperonthetable。Youmusteat，"shesaidauthoritatively。"Icannotstaywithyounow，lesttheyfindoutaboutthebird。"
　　Hegraspedherarmandbroughthismouthclosetoherear。
　　"ThereisnoGod！"healmosthissed；"noGod；notanywhere！"
　　Shestarted。
　　"Notanywhere！"
　　Hegrounditoutbetweenhisteeth，andshefelthishotbreathonhercheek。
　　"Waldo，youaremad，"shesaid，drawingherselffromhim，instinctively。
　　Heloosenedhisgraspandturnedawayfromheralso。
　　Intruth，isitnotlife’sway？Wefightourlittlebattlesalone；youyours，Imine。Wemustnothelporfindhelp。
　　Whenyourlifeismostreal，tomeyouaremad；whenyouragonyisblackest，Ilookatyouandwonder。Friendshipisgood，astrongstick；
　　butwhenthehourcomestoleanhard，itgives。Inthedayoftheirbitterestneedallsoulsarealone。
　　Lyndallstoodbyhiminthedark，pityingly，wonderingly。Ashewalkedtothedoor，shecameafterhim。
　　"Eatyoursupper；itwilldoyougood，"shesaid。
　　Sherubbedhercheekagainsthisshoulderandthenranaway。
　　InthefrontroomthelittlewoollyKaffergirlwaswashingTantSannie’sfeetinasmalltub，andBonaparte，whosatonthewoodensofa，waspullingoffhisshoesandstockingsthathisownfeetmightbewashedalso。Therewerethreecandlesburningintheroom，andheandTantSanniesatclosetogether，withtheleanHottentotnotfaroff；forwhenghostsareaboutmuchlightisneeded，thereisgreatstrengthinnumbers。Bonapartehadcompletelyrecoveredfromtheeffectsofhisfrightintheafternoon，andthenumerousdosesofbrandythatithadbeennecessarytoadministertohimtoeffecthisrestorationhadputhimintoasingularlypleasantandamiablemood。
　　"ThatboyWaldo，"saidBonaparte，rubbinghistoes，"tookhimselfoffcoollythismorningassoonasthewagoncame，andhasnotdoneastiverofworkallday。I’llnothavethatkindofthingnowI’mmasterofthisfarm。"
　　TheHottentotmaidtranslated。
　　"Ah，Iexpecthe’ssorrythathisfather’sdead，"saidTantSannie。"It’snature，youknow。Icriedthewholemorningwhenmyfatherdied。Onecanalwaysgetanotherhusband，butonecan’tgetanotherfather，"saidTantSannie，castingasidelongglanceatBonaparte。
　　BonaparteexpressedawishtogiveWaldohisordersforthenextday’swork，andaccordinglythelittlewoolly—headedKafferwassenttocallhim。
　　Afteraconsiderabletimetheboyappeared，andstoodinthedoorway。
　　Iftheyhaddressedhiminoneoftheswallow—tailedcoats，andoiledhishairtillthedropsfellfromit，anditlayassmoothasanelder’sonsacramentSunday，therewouldstillhavebeensomethingunanointedintheaspectofthefellow。Asitwas，standingthereinhisstrangeoldcostume，hisheadpresentingmuchtheappearanceofhavingbeendeeplyrolledinsand，hiseyelidsswollen，thehairhangingoverhisforehead，andadoggedsullennessonhisfeatures，hepresentedmosttheappearanceofanill—conditionedyoungbuffalo。
　　"BelovedLord，"criedTantSannie，"howhelooks！Comein，boy。Couldn’tyoucomeandsaygood—daytome？Don’tyouwantsomesupper？"
　　Hesaidhewantednothing，andturnedhisheavyeyesawayfromher。
　　"There’saghostbeenseeninyourfather’sroom，"saidTantSannie。"Ifyou’reafraidyoucansleepinthekitchen。"
　　"Iwillsleepinourroom，"saidtheboyslowly。
　　"Well，youcangonow，"shesaid；"butbeupearlytotakethesheep。Theherd——"