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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"A Daughter of the Land"

When her father started toward her, she started around
the dining table, talking as fast as she could, he lunging after
her like a furious bull. "She asked me to come back and teach the
school -- to keep her from putting off her wedding -- because she
is afraid to -- If I can break my contract there -- may I come
back and help her out here?"
The pace was going more swiftly each round, it was punctuated at
that instant by a heavy meat platter aimed at Kate's head. She
saw it picked up and swayed so it missed.
"I guess that is answer enough for me," she panted, racing on. "A
lovely father you are -- no wonder your daughters are dishonest
through fear of you -- no wonder your wife has no mind of her own
-- no wonder your sons hate you and wish you would die -- so they
could have their deeds and be like men -- instead of 'spanked
school-boys' as they feel now -- no wonder the whole posse of us
hate you."
Directly opposite the door Kate caught the table and drew it with
her to bar the opening. As it crashed against the casing half the
dishes flew to the floor in a heap.


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