He secretly and furiously objected to the dancing and visits in Farwell's
cottage. He was ashamed to voice this feeling, for Farwell was his friend
and had taught him all he knew, but Farwell's age did not in the least
blind Jerry-Jo to the fact that he was a man, and he did not enjoy seeing
Priscilla so free and easy with any other of the male sex, be he ancient
enough to topple into the grave.
"She'll dance for me--for me!" the young fellow ground his teeth. "I'll
make her forget to prance and grin unless she does it for me. The
master's just training her away from me and putting notions in her head.
I'll take her to the States--maybe her dancing will help us both there.
I don't mean to drudge as Jamsie Hornby does! Better things for me!"
Sex attraction swayed Jerry-Jo madly in those days and he thought it
love, as many a better man had done before him. The blood of his mother
controlled him largely and he wished that he might carry the girl off to
his wigwam, and, at his leisure, with beads and blankets, or other less
tangible methods, win her and conquer her. But present conditions held
the boy in check and compelled him to adopt more modern tactics.
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