Page:Frank Owen - Rare Earth, 1931.djvu/148

 work for him to do after the passing of his father. He never complained. He loved his work. There was nothing he would have preferred more. But he was young and despite his enthusiasm he could not keep from growing tired. So most of his evenings were spent dozing in a chair while his mother sat opposite him, busy sewing or knitting. There was almost as much for Linda to do as there was for the boy. Occasionally he would rouse himself when his mother spoke to him but eventually he would slip off into that delightfully vague region which is neither sleeping nor waking.

Benda had always tried hard to break Enoch of the habit of talking in the Gullah manner. He was not ashamed of his race. But he wished Enoch to speak in the same manner as the majority of American citizens. Benda had struggled to banish every mannerism from his own conversation. He desired to use perfect English, as perfect as any man. Linda, too, despite the fact that she had never had any genuine schooling pronounced her words