"'No, Ma, talkin' nor prayin' won't do no good ... the only thing left's a good whippin' to straighten her out.'"
"O Aunt Rachel," I cried, all my desire of Phoebe breaking but into tenderness. I looked at the lovely face, crossed with sunlight, full of such quick intelligence, such mischievousness....
You can catch a wild animal in a trap, but to whip it would be sacrilege ... that might do for domesticated animals.
"Josh never laid a hand on her, though, that night ... she never came home ... men are so awful in their pride, Johnnie ... don't you be like that when you grow to be a man...."
Then Aunt Rachel said no more, as Paul came in at that moment. Nor did she resume the subject.
Next morning I packed away to visit Uncle Lan. I might as well go, even if I hated him. It would be too noticeable, not to go.
He was at the train, waiting for me. He proffered me his hand. To my surprise, I took it. He seized my grip from me, put his other hand affectionately on my shoulder.
"I've often wondered whether you'd ever forgive me for the way I beat you.... I've learned better since."
Before I knew it my voice played me the trick of saying yes, I forgave him.