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The Shorn Lamb

there were times when he really hated her. That was when he was sober. At such times he took pleasure in the fact that his son had the upper hand on the farm and that the darkeys obeyed his orders instead of Aunt Peachy's.

The old woman would reproach him with his weakness in letting Philip be the master, but he would look slyly at her and say, "If you ain't able ter conquer the boy, how you 'spec' me ter do it?"

He watched the work of restoration on the desecrated lawn and sunken garden and said nothing. Perhaps a spark of the noble founder of the race was still smouldering in his soul and all pride of family and tradition was not dead within him. He understood now that Aunt Peachy had persuaded him to have the lawn plowed up, the trees cut and the garden given over to the hogs to spite his wife and Philip. He had not quite understood it at the time he gave the orders and Aunt Peachy's offspring carried them out. He could remember very little about having been a party to the vandalism. It had occurred after the arrival of a fresh jug from the mountains, and he had not been in a state to remember what took place. He could recall that when the great trees were felled