Page:War; or, What happens when one loves one's enemy, John Luther Long, 1913.djvu/45

ABOUT THE LOVE GAME they was just about the same at her age, so I didn't blame Henry so much, no more, for his:

and so on. I was old enough to have sense, but I use' to think that such a woman as Evelyn's mother looked like could have made me do something foolish—maybe.

Well, she soon had us that we'd have fallen down and worshiped her, I expect—when she was gentle—even the cattle in the barnyard. But Jon was the worst of all. Right from the start he was witchcrafted, hands and feet, like a nigger slave. I never saw anything so quick. Both of them were rather solemn and didn't talk much. But, Jon's blue eyes weren't so slow saying things to her dark ones, and his voice, when he read German to her, out of books, wasn't far behind hers. And when he sung to her, with the guitar, German songs, like Blau ist ein Blümelein, I just didn't 29