Sons and Lovers - Daimon Club

"See, it doesn't hurt," he said, and, putting only two corns
in his palm, he let the hen peck, peck, peck at his bare hand.
"It only makes you laugh," he said.
She put her hand forward and dragged it away, tried again,
and started back with a cry. He frowned.
"Why, I'd let her take corn from my face," said Paul,
"only she bumps a bit. She's ever so neat. If she wasn't, look
how much ground she'd peck up every day."
He waited grimly, and watched. At last Miriam let the bird
peck from her hand. She gave a little cry--fear, and pain because
of fear--rather pathetic. But she had done it, and she did it again.
"There, you see," said the boy. "It doesn't hurt, does it?"
She looked at him with dilated dark eyes.
"No," she laughed, trembling.
Then she rose and went indoors. She seemed to be in some way
resentful of the boy.
"He thinks I'm only a common girl," she thought, and she wanted
to prove she was a grand person like the "Lady of the Lake".
Paul found his mother ready to go home. She smiled on her son.
He took the great bunch of flowers. Mr. and Mrs. Leivers walked
down the fields with them. The hills were golden with evening;
deep in the woods showed the darkening purple of bluebells.
It was everywhere perfectly stiff, save for the rustling of leaves
and birds.
"But it is a beautiful place," said Mrs. Morel.
"Yes," answered Mr. Leivers; "it's a nice little place, if only
it weren't for the rabbits. The pasture's bitten down to nothing.
I dunno if ever I s'll get the rent off it."
He clapped his hands, and the field broke into motion near
the woods, brown rabbits hopping everywhere.
"Would you believe it!" exclaimed Mrs. Morel.
She and Paul went on alone together.