The farm girl wanted to approach the young man, to speak to him, to ask him
questions concerning many strange things in life she did not understand.
She knew that under no circumstances would she be able to do such a thing,
that it was but a meaningless dream that had come into her head, but the
dream was sweet. She did not, however, want to talk to John May. At the
moment she was in a girlish period of being disgusted at what she thought
of as the vulgarity of the men who worked on the place. At the table they
ate noisily and greedily like hungry animals. She wanted youth that was
like her own youth, crude and uncertain perhaps, but reaching eagerly out
into the unknown. She wanted to draw very near to something young, strong,
gentle, insistent, beautiful. When the farm hand looked up and saw her
standing and looking intently at him, she was embarrassed. For a moment the
two young animals, so unlike each other, stood staring at each other and
then, to relieve her embarrassment, Clara began to play a game. Among the
men employed on the farm she had always passed for something of a tomboy.
In the hayfields and in the barns she had wrestled and fought playfully
with both the old and the young men. To them she had always been a
privileged person. They liked her and she was the boss's daughter. One did
not get rough with her or say or do rough things. A basket of corn stood
just within the door of the shed, and running to it Clara took an ear of
the yellow corn and threw it at the farm hand.
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