Page:Frank Owen - Rare Earth, 1931.djvu/21

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Rare Earth

pushing up through the sun-bathed earth always were a miracle to him. Hung Long Tom was right. Here was the fruit of the wedding of the sun and the soil upon the bridal bed of earth.

Jethro desired a son to carry on the Trent tradition.

But Scobee failed to measure up to his father's expectations. Scobee loved the countryside, Watson's Marsh, the flowing acres of wheat, the monstrous barns and stables. To him they helped make a beautiful landscape. He loved Galvey as an artist might love a picture in an impractical way. The fields never attracted him as much as clouds flying low on the distant horizon. From boyhood he had thought of them as little white ships, golden galleons with white sails racing out to sea. The gray and black clouds were pirate vessels cruising about in quest of plunder. Sometimes when Scobee and Hung Long Tom grew tired of leading an honorable existence they made believe that they were

bold bad pirates. They had a favorite pirate

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