Chapter XIII
There was much that was interesting in the personality of Enoch Joel. His Carolina descent showed in the warmth of his smile. Perhaps he seemed to radiate warmth because he so loved the sun. In the heat of summer afternoons when there was no pressing need for him in the fields he joyed to lie beneath a tree, his shapeless hat tilted forward over his eyes, and doze. At such moments he felt like a monarch. All he could survey was his. The warm pungent air was there and he could breathe deeply as much as he wished of it. The sun-scorched yellow sky belonged to him. At least no man could take it away. There were miles and miles of roads for him to walk upon. But best of his posses-
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