He sputtered and glared over his shoulder up the hillside
as he struggled for words. "Oh to Hell with men!" he burst forth.
"They are cattle, stupid cattle." A fire blazed up in his eyes and a
confident ring came into his voice. "I'd like to get them together,
all of them," he said, "I'd like to make them----" Words failed him
and again he sat down on the log beside the woman. "Well I'd like to
lead them to an old mine shaft and push them in," he concluded
resentfully.
* * * * *
On the eminence Beaut and the tall woman sat and looked down into the
valley. "I wonder why we don't go there, mother and I," he said. "When
I see it I'm filled with the notion. I think I want to be a farmer and
work in the fields. Instead of that mother and I sit and plan of the
city. I'm going to be a lawyer. That's all we talk about. Then I come
up here and it seems as though this is the place for me."
The tall woman laughed. "I can see you coming home at night from the
fields," she said. "It might be to that white house there with the
windmill, You would be a big man and would have dust in your red hair
and perhaps a red beard growing on your chin. And a woman with a baby
in her arms would come out of the kitchen door to stand leaning on the
fence waiting for you.
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