Classic Audiobook Collection - My Antonia by Willa Cather ~ Full Audiobook [drama]

Starting point is 00:00:00 My Antonia by Willa Cather To Carey and Irene Minor in memory of affections old and true. Introduction Last summer I happened to be crossing the plains of Iowa in a season of intense heat, and it was my good fortune to have for a traveling companion James Quail Burden, Jim Burden, as we still call him in the West. He and I are old friends. We grew up together in the same Nebraska town, and we had much to say to each other.

Starting point is 00:00:30 while the train flashed through never-ending miles of ripe wheat by country towns and bright-flowered pastures and oak groves wilting in the sun we sat in the observation-car where the woodwork was hot to the touch and red dust lay deep over everything the dust and heat the burning wind reminded us of many things we were talking about what it is like to spend one's childhood in little towns like these buried in wheat and corn under stimulating extremes of climate burning summers when the world like eyes green and billowy beneath a brilliant sky, when one is fairly stifled in vegetation, in the color and smell of strong weeds and heavy harvests, blustery winters with little snow, when the whole country is stripped bare and grey as sheet-iron. We agreed that no one who had not grown up in a little prairie town could know anything about it. It was a kind of freemasonry, we said. Although Jim Burton and I both live in New York, and our old friends, I do not see much of him there. He is legal counsel for one of the great Western railways and is sometimes away from his New York office for weeks together.

Starting point is 00:01:35 That is one reason why we do not often meet. Another is that I do not like his wife. When Jim was still an obscure young lawyer, struggling to make his way in New York, his career was suddenly advanced by a brilliant marriage. Genevieve Whitney was the only daughter of a distinguished man. Her marriage with young burden was the subject of sharp comment at the time. It was said that she had been brutally jilted by her cousin, Rutland Whitney, and that she married this unknown man from the West out of bravado. She was a restless, headstrong girl even then, who liked to astonish her friends. Later, when I knew her, she was always doing something unexpected. She gave one of her townhouses for a suffrage headquarters, produced one of her own plays at the Princess Theatre, was arrested for picketing during a garment-maker's strike, etc.

Starting point is 00:02:22 I am never able to believe that she has much feeling for the causes to it. she lends her name and her fleeting interest. She is handsome, energetic, executive, but to me she seems unimpressionable and temperamentally incapable of enthusiasm. Her husband's quiet tastes irritate her, I think, and she finds it worthwhile to play the patroness to a group of young poets and painters of advanced ideas and mediocre ability. She has her own fortune and lives her own life. For some reason she wishes to remain Mrs. James Burden. As for Jim, no disappointments have been severe enough to chill his naturally romantic and ardent disposition. This disposition, although it often made him seem very funny when he was a boy, has been one of the strongest elements in his success.

Starting point is 00:03:07 He loves with a personal passion the great country through which his railway runs and branches. His faith in it and his knowledge of it have played an important part in its development. He is always able to raise capital for new enterprises in Wyoming or Montana, and has helped young men out there to do remarkable things in mines and timber and oil. If a young man with an idea can once get Jim Burden's attention, can manage to accompany him when he goes off into the wilds hunting for lost parks or exploring new canyons, then the money which means action is usually forthcoming. Jim is still able to lose himself in those big Western dreams. Though he is over 40 now, he meets new people and new enterprises with the impulsiveness by which his boyhood friends remember him. He never seems to me to grow older.

Starting point is 00:03:52 His fresh color and sandy hair and quick-changing blue eyes are those of a young man, and his sympathetic, solicitous interest in women is as youthful as it is Western and American. During that burning day when we were crossing Iowa, our talk kept returning to a central figure, a bohemian girl whom we had known long ago and whom both of us admired. More than any other person we remembered, this girl seemed to mean to us the country, the conditions, the whole adventures of our childhood. To speak her name was to call up pictures of people and places, to set a quiet drama going in one's brain.

Starting point is 00:04:30 I had lost sight of her altogether, but Jim had found her again after long years, had renewed a friendship that meant a great deal to him, and out of his busy life had set apart enough time to enjoy that friendship. His mind was full of her that day. He made me see her again, feel her presence, revived all my old affection for her. I can't see, he said impetuously,

Starting point is 00:04:51 why you have never written anything about Antonia. I told him I had always felt that other people, he himself, for one, knew her much better than I. I was ready, however, to make an agreement with him. I would set down on paper all that I remembered of Antonia if he would do the same. We might, in this way, get a picture of her. He rumpled his hair with a quick, excited gesture, which with him often announces a new determination, and I could see that my suggestion took hold of him. Maybe I will, maybe I will, he declared.

Starting point is 00:05:21 He stared out of the window for a few moments, and when he turned to me again his eyes had the sudden clearness that comes from something the mind itself sees. "'Of course,' he said, "'I should have to do it in a direct way and say a great deal about myself. "'It's through myself that I knew and felt her, and I've had no practice in any other form of presentation.' I told him that how he knew her and felt her was exactly what I most wanted to know about Antonia. He had had opportunities that I, as a little girl who watched her come and go, had not. Months afterward, Jim Burden arrived at my apartment, one stormy winter afternoon, with a bulging legal portfolio sheltered under his fur overcoat. He brought it into the sitting-room with him and tapped it with some pride as he stood warming his hands.

Starting point is 00:06:07 I finished it last night, the thing about Antonia, he said, Now what about yours? I had to confess that mine had not gone beyond a few straggling notes. "'Notes? I didn't make any. He drank his tea all at once and put down the cup. I didn't arrange or rearrange. I simply wrote down what of herself and myself and other people Antonia's name recalls to me. I suppose it hasn't any form. It hasn't any title either. He went into the next room, sat down at my desk, and wrote on the pinkish face of the portfolio the word, Antonia. He frowned at this a moment, then prefixed another word, making it, my, Antonia. That seemed to satisfy me. by him. Read it as soon as you can, he said, rising, but don't let it influence your own story. My own story was never written, but the following narrative is Jim's manuscript, substantially as he brought it to me. End of the introduction. My Antonia by Willa Cather, Book 1, the Shemerdas, Chapter 1.

Starting point is 00:07:12 I first heard of Antonia on what seemed to me an interminable journey across the great Midland Plain of North America. I was 10 years old then. I had lost both my father and mother within a year, and my Virginia relatives were sending me out to my grandparents who lived in Nebraska. I traveled in the care of a mountain boy, Jake Marpole, one of the hands on my father's old farm under the Blue Ridge, who was now going west to work for my grandfather. Jake's experience of the world was not much wider than mine. He had never been in a railway train until the morning when we set out together to try our fortunes in a new world. We went all the way in day coaches, becoming more sticky and grimy with each stage of the journey. Jake bought everything the

Starting point is 00:08:05 newsboys offered him, candy, oranges, brass collar buttons, a watch charm, and for me a life of Jesse James, which I remember as one of the most satisfactory books I have ever read. Beyond Chicago, we were under the protection of a friendly passenger conductor, who knew all about the country to which we were going, and gave us a great deal of advice in exchange for our confidence. He seemed to us an experienced and worldly man, who had been almost everywhere. In his conversation, he threw out lightly the names of distant states and cities. He wore the rings and pins and badges of different fraternal orders to which he belonged. Even his cuff buttons were engraved with hieroglyphics, and he was more inscribed than an Egyptian

Starting point is 00:08:53 obelisk. Once, when he sat down to chat, he told us that in the immigrant car ahead, there was a family from, across the water, whose destination was the same as ours. They can't any of them speak English, except one little girl, and all she can say is, and all she can say is, we go Black Hawk, Nebraska. She's not much older than you, 12 or 13 maybe, and she's as bright as a new dollar. Don't you want to go ahead and see her, Jimmy? She's got the pretty brown eyes, too. This last remark made me bashful, and I shook my head and settled down to Jesse James. Jake nodded at me approvingly and said you were likely to get diseases from foreigners. I do not remember crossing the Missouri River or anything about the long days.

Starting point is 00:09:41 journey through Nebraska. Probably by that time I had crossed so many rivers that I was dull to them. The only thing very noticeable about Nebraska was that it was still, all day long, Nebraska. I had been sleeping, curled up in a red plush seat for a long while when we reached Black Hawk. Jake roused me and took me by the hand. We stumbled down from the train to a wooden siding where men were running about with lanterns. I couldn't see any town, or even distant lights. We were surrounded by utter darkness. The engine was panting heavily after its long run. In the red glow from the firebox, a group of people stood huddled together on the platform, encumbered by bundles and boxes. I knew this must be the immigrant family the conductor had told us about. The woman wore a fringe

Starting point is 00:10:34 shawl, tied over her head, and she carried a little tin trunk in her arm. And she carried a little tin trunk in her arms, hugging it as if it were a baby. There was an old man, tall and stooped. Two half-grown boys and a girl stood holding oil-cloth bundles, and a little girl clung to her mother's skirts. Presently a man with a lantern approached them and began to talk, shouting and exclaiming. I pricked up my ears, for it was positively the first time I had ever heard a foreign tongue. Another lantern came along. A bantering voice called out, Hello, are you Mr. Burdens, folks? If you are, it's me you're looking for. I'm Otto Fuchs. I'm Mr. Burden's hired man, and I'm to drive you out. Hello, Jimmy. Ain't you scared to come so far west? I looked up with interest at the new face in the lantern light. He might have stepped out of the pages of Jesse James. He wore a sombrero hat with a wide leather band and a bright buckle, and the ends of his mustache were twisted up stiffly like little horn. He looked lively and ferocious, I thought, and as if he had a history.

Starting point is 00:11:43 A long scar ran across one cheek and drew the corner of his mouth up in a sinister curl. The top of his left ear was gone, and his skin was brown as an Indian's. Surely this was the face of a desperado. As he walked about the platform in his high-heeled boots, looking for our trunks, I saw that he was rather a slight man, quick and wiry and light on his feet. He told us we had a long night drive ahead of us and had better be on the hike. He led us to a hitching bar where two farm wagons were tied, and I saw the foreign family crowding into one of them.

Starting point is 00:12:20 The other was for us. Jake got on the front seat with Otto Fuchs, and I rode on the straw in the bottom of the wagon box, covered up with a buffalo hide. The immigrants rumbled off into the empty darkness, and we followed them. I tried to go to sleep, but the jolting made me, bite my tongue, and I soon began to ache all over.

Starting point is 00:12:41 When the straw settled down, I had a hard bed. Cautiously, I slipped from under the buffalo hide, got up on my knees and peered over the side of the wagon. There seemed to be nothing to see, no fences, no creeks or trees, no hills or fields. If there was a road, I could not make it out in the faint starlight. There was nothing but land, not a country at all, but the material out of which countries are made. No, there was nothing but land. Slightly undulating, I knew, because often our wheels ground against the brake as we went down into a hollow and lurched up again on the other side.

Starting point is 00:13:19 I had the feeling that the world was left behind, that we had got over the edge of it and were outside man's jurisdiction. I had never before looked up at the sky when there was not a familiar mountain ridge against it, but this was the complete dome of heaven, all there was of it. I did believe that my dead father and mother were watching me from up there. They would still be looking for me at the sheepfold down by the creek, or along the white road that led to the mountain pastures. I had left even their spirits behind me. The wagon jolted on, carrying me I knew not wither. I don't think I was homesick. If we never arrived anywhere, it did not matter. Between that earth and that sky, I felt erased, blotted out. I did not say my prayers that night. I did not say my

Starting point is 00:14:06 prayers that night. Here I felt what would be would be. End of Chapter 1. My Antonia by Willa Cather, Book 1, the Shemerdas, Chapter 2. I do not remember our arrival at my grandfather's farm sometime before daybreak after a drive of nearly 20 miles with heavy workhorses. When I awoke, it was afternoon. I was lying in a little room, scarcely larger than the bed that held me, and the window shade at my head was flapping softly in a warm wind. A tall woman, with wrinkled brown skin and black hair, stood looking down at me. I knew that she must be my grandmother. She had been crying, I could see, but when I opened my eyes, she smiled, peered at me anxiously, and sat down on the foot of my bed.

Starting point is 00:14:57 Had a good sleep, Jimmy? she asked briskly. Then in a very different tone, she said, as if to herself. my, how you do look like your father. I remembered that my father had been her little boy. She must often have come to wake him like this when he overslept. Here are your clean clothes, she went on, stroking my coverlet with her brown hand as she talked. But first you come down to the kitchen with me and have a nice warm bath behind the stove. Bring your things. There's nobody about.

Starting point is 00:15:28 Down to the kitchen struck me as curious. It was always out in the kitchen at home. I picked up my shoes and stockings and followed her through the living room and down a flight of stairs into a basement. This basement was divided into a dining room at the right of the stairs and a kitchen at the left. Both rooms were plastered and whitewashed. The plaster lay directly upon the earth walls, as it used to be in dugouts. The floor was of hard cement. Up under the wooden ceiling there were little half windows with white curtains and pots of geraniums and wandering dew in the deep sills.

Starting point is 00:16:03 As I entered the kitchen, I sniffed a pleasant smell of gingerbread baking. The stove was very large, with bright nickel trimmings, and behind it there was a long wooden bench against the wall, and a tin washtub into which grandmother poured hot and cold water. When she brought the soap and towels, I told her that I was used to taking my bath without help. Can you do your ears, Jimmy? Are you sure? Well now, I call you a right, smart little boy. It was pleasant there in the kitchen,

Starting point is 00:16:33 The sun shone into my bathwater through the west half window, and a big Maltese cat came up and rubbed himself against the tub, watching me curiously. While I scrubbed, my grandmother busied herself in the dining room until I called anxiously. Grandmother, I'm afraid the cakes are burning. Then she came laughing, waving her apron before her as if she were shewing chickens. She was a spare tall woman, a little stooped, and she was apt to carry her head thrust forward in an attitude of attention. as if she were looking at something, or listening to something far away. As I grew older, I came to believe that it was only because she was so often thinking of things that were far away. She was quick-footed and energetic in all her movements. Her voice was high and rather shrill, and she often spoke with an anxious inflection, for she was exceedingly desirous

Starting point is 00:17:25 that everything should go with due order and decorum. Her laugh, too, was high, and perhaps a little strident, but there was a lively intelligence in it. She was then 55 years old, a strong woman of unusual endurance. After I was dressed, I explored the long cellar next the kitchen. It was dug out under the wing of the house, was plastered and cemented, with a stairway and an outside door by which the men came and went. Under one of the windows there was a place for them to wash when they came in from work. While my grandmother was busy about supper, I settled myself on the wooden bench behind the stove and got acquainted with the cat. He caught not only rats and mice, but gophers, I was told.

Starting point is 00:18:09 The patch of yellow sunlight on the floor traveled back toward the stairway, and grandmother and I talked about my journey and about the arrival of the new Bohemian family. She said they were to be our nearest neighbors. We did not talk about the farm in Virginia, which had been her home for so many years. But after the men came in from the fields, and we were all seated at the supper table. Then she asked Jake about the old place and about our friends and neighbors there. My grandfather said little. When he first came in, he kissed me and spoke kindly to me, but he was not demonstrative. I felt at once his deliberateness and personal dignity, and was a little in awe of him. The thing one immediately noticed about him was his beautiful,

Starting point is 00:18:52 crinkly, snow-white beard. I once heard a missionary say it was like the beard of an Arabian sheik, His bald crown only made it more impressive. Grandfather's eyes were not at all like those of an old man. They were bright blue and had a fresh frosty sparkle. His teeth were white and regular, so sound that he had never been to a dentist in his life. He had a delicate skin, easily roughened by sun and wind. When he was a young man, his hair and beard were red.

Starting point is 00:19:22 His eyebrows were still coppery. As we sat at the table, Otto Fuchs and I, kept stealing covert glances at each other. Grandmother had told me while she was getting supper that he was an Austrian, who came to this country a young boy and had led an adventurous life in the far west among mining camps and cow outfits.

Starting point is 00:19:43 His iron constitution was somewhat broken by mountain pneumonia, and he had drifted back to live in a milder country for a while. He had relatives in Bismarck, a German settlement to the north of us, but for a year now he had been working for grandfather. The minute supper was over, Otto took me into the kitchen to whisper to me about a pony down in the barn that had been bought for me at a sale. He had been riding him to find out whether he had any bad tricks, but he was a perfect gentleman, and his name was dude. Fuchs told me everything I wanted to know, how he had lost his ear in a Wyoming blizzard when he was a stage driver and how to throw a lasso.

Starting point is 00:20:23 He promised to rope a steer for me before sundown next day. He got out his chaps and silver spurs to show them to Jake and me and his best cowboy boots with tops stitched in bold design, roses and true lover's knots and undraped female figures. These, he solemnly explained, were angels. Before we went to bed, Jake and Otto were called up to the living room for prayers. Grandfather put on silver-rimmed spectacles and read several psalms. His voice was so sympathetic, and he read so interestingly that I wished he had chosen one of my favorite chapters in the book of kings. I was awed by his intonation of the word, Selah. He shall choose our inheritance for us, the excellency of Jacob whom he loved.

Starting point is 00:21:13 Selah. I had no idea what the word meant. Perhaps he had not. But, as he uttered it, it became oracular, the most sacred of words. Early the next morning I ran out of doors to look about me. I had been told that ours was the only wooden house west of Black Hawk, until you came to the Norwegian settlement where there were several. Our neighbors lived in sod houses and dugouts, comfortable but not very roomy. Our white-framed house, with a story and half-story above the basement, stood at the east end of what I might call the farmyard,

Starting point is 00:21:48 with the windmill close by the kitchen door. From the windmill the ground sloped westward, down to the barns and granaries and pig yards. This slope was trampled hard and bare and washed out in winding gullies by the rain. Beyond the corn cribs, at the bottom of the shallow draw, was a muddy little pond, with rusty willow bushes growing about it. The road from the post office came directly by our door, crossed the farmyard, and curved round this little pond, beyond which it began to climb the gentle swell of unbroken prairie to the west. There, along the western skyline, it skirted a great cornfield, much larger than any field I had ever seen.

Starting point is 00:22:31 This cornfield, and the sorghum patch behind the barn, were the only broken land in sight. Everywhere, as far as the eye could reach, there was nothing but rough, shaggy, red grass, most of it as tall as I. North of the house, inside the plowed firebreaks, grew a thick-set strip of box elder trees, low and bushy, their leaves already turning yellow. This hedge was nearly a quarter of a mile long, but I had to look very hard to see it at all. The little trees were insignificant against the grass. It seemed as if the grass were about to run over them and over the plum patch behind the sawed chicken house. As I looked about me, I felt that the grass was the country, as the water is the sea.

Starting point is 00:23:17 sea. The red of the grass made all the great prairie the color of wine stains or of certain seaweeds when they are first washed up. And there was so much motion in it, the whole country seemed somehow to be running. I had almost forgotten that I had a grandmother when she came out, her sunbonnet on her head, a grain sack in her hand, and asked me if I did not want to go to the garden with her to dig potatoes for dinner. The garden, curiously enough, was a quarter of a mile from the house, and the way to it led up a shallow draw past the cattle corral. Grandmother called my attention to a stout hickory cane, tipped with copper, which hung by a leather thong from her belt. This, she said, was her rattlesnake cane. I must never go to the garden without a heavy

Starting point is 00:24:06 stick or a corn knife. She had killed a good many rattlers on her way back and forth. A little little girl who lived on the Black Hawk Road was bitten on the ankle and had been sick all summer. I can remember exactly how the country looked to me as I walked beside my grandmother along the faint wagon tracks on that early September morning. Perhaps the glide of long railway travel was still with me. For more than anything else, I felt motion in the landscape, in the fresh, easy blowing morning wind, and in the earth itself, as if the shaggy grass were a sort of loose hide, and underneath it herds of wild buffalo were galloping, galloping. Alone, I should never have found the garden, except perhaps for the big yellow pumpkins

Starting point is 00:24:51 that lay about unprotected by their withering vines. And I felt very little interest in it when I got there. I wanted to walk straight on through the red grass and over the edge of the world, which could not be very far away. The light air about me told me that the world ended here, only the ground and sun and sky were left, and if one went a little farther, there would be only sun and sky, and one would float off into them like the tawny hawks which sailed over our heads, making slow shadows on the grass. While grandmother took the pitchfork, we found standing in one of the rows and dug potatoes. While I picked them up out of the soft brown earth and put them into the bag, I kept looking up at the hawks that were doing what I might so easily do. When Grandmother was ready to go, I said I would like to stay up there in the garden a while. She peered down at me from under her sunbonnet. Aren't you afraid of snakes? A little, I admitted, but I'd like to stay anyhow.

Starting point is 00:25:54 Well, if you see one, don't have anything to do with him. The big yellow and brown ones won't hurt you. They're bull snakes and help to keep the gophers down. Don't be scared if you see anything. Look out of that hole in the bank over there. That's a badger hole. He's about as big as a possum, and his face is striped, black and white. He takes a chicken once in a while, but I won't let the men harm him.

Starting point is 00:26:17 In a new country, a body feels friendly to the animals. I like to have him come out and watch me when I'm at work. Grandmother swung the bag of potatoes over her shoulder and went down the path, leaning forward a little. The road followed the windings of the draw. When she came to the first bend, she waved at me and disappeared. I was left alone with this new feeling of lightness and content. I sat down in the middle of the garden, where snakes could scarcely approach unseen,

Starting point is 00:26:46 and leaned my back against a warm yellow pumpkin. There were some ground cherry bushes, growing along the furrows, full of fruit. I turned back the papery triangular sheaths that protected the berries and ate a few. All about me, giant grasshoppers, twice as big as any I had ever seen, were doing acrobial feet among the dried vines. The gophers scurried up and down the plowed ground. There in the sheltered draw-bottom, the wind did not blow very hard, but I could hear it singing its humming tune up on the level, and I could see the tall grasses wave. The earth was warm under me, and warm as I crumbled it through my fingers. Queer little red bugs came out and moved in

Starting point is 00:27:30 slow squadrons around me. Their backs were polished vermilion with black spots. I kept as still as I could. Nothing happened. I did not expect anything to happen. I was something that lay under the sun and felt it like the pumpkins, and I did not want to be anything more. I was entirely happy. Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become a part of something entire, whether it is sun and air or goodness and knowledge. At any rate, that is happiness, to be dissolved into something complete and great. When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep. End of chapter two.

Starting point is 00:28:12 My Antonia, by Willa Kather. Book 1 The Shamirdas Chapter 3 On Sunday morning, Otto Fuchs was to drive us over to make the acquaintance of our new bohemian neighbors. We were taking them some provisions,

Starting point is 00:28:32 as they had come to live on a wild place where there was no garden or chicken house, and very little bruce. broken land. Fuchs brought up a sack of potatoes and a piece of cured pork from the cellar, and grandmother packed some loaves of Saturday's bread, a jar of butter, and several pumpkin pies in the straw of the wagon box. We clambered up to the front seat, and jolted off past the little pond and along the road that climbed to the big cornfield. I could hardly wait to see what lay beyond that cornfield, but there was only red grass like ours and nothing else,

Starting point is 00:29:12 though from the high wagon-seat one could look off a long way. The road ran about like a wild thing, avoiding the deep draws, crossing them where they were wide and shallow, and all along it, wherever it looped or ran, the sunflowers grew. Some of them were as big as little trees with great rough leaves and many branches which bore dozens of blossoms. They made a gold ribbon across the prairie. Occasionally, one of the horses would tear off, with his teeth, a plant full of blossoms, and walk along munching it, the flowers nodding in time to his bites as he ate down toward them. The Bohemian family, Grandmother told me as we drove along, had bought the homestead of a fellow countryman peter cradig and had paid him more than it was worth their agreement with him was made before they left the old country through a cousin of his who was also a relative of mrs

Starting point is 00:30:17 the shimerda the shemerdas were the first bohemian family to come to this part of the country cradig was their only interpreter and could tell them anything he chose they could not speak enough english to ask for advice or even to make their most pressing wants known. One son, Fuchs said, was well grown and strong enough to work the land, but the father was old and frail, and knew nothing about farming. He was a weaver by trade, and had been a skillful workman on tapestries and upholstery materials. He had brought his fiddle with him, which wouldn't be of much use here, though he used to pick up money by it at home. "'If they're nice people, I hate to think of them spending the winter in that cave of Kragicks,' said Grandmother.

Starting point is 00:31:06 "'It's no better than a badger hole, no proper dugout at all, and I hear he's made them pay $20 for his old cookstove that ain't worth ten.' "'Yes'm,' said Otto. "'And he sold him his oxen and his two bony old horses for the price of good work teams. I'd have interfered about the horses. The old man can understand some German. If I'd have thought it would do any good. Bohemians has a natural distrust of Austrians. Grandmother looked interested.

Starting point is 00:31:40 Now, why is that, Otto? Fuchs wrinkled his brow and nose. Well, ma'am, it's politics. It would take me a long while to explain. The land was growing rougher. I was told that we were approaching Squaw Creek. which cut up the west half of the Shamirda's place and made the land of little value for farming. Soon we could see the broken grassy clay cliffs which indicated the windings of the stream,

Starting point is 00:32:09 and the glittering tops of the cottonwoods and ash trees that grew down the ravine. Some of the cottonwoods had already turned, and the yellow leaves and shining white bark made them look like gold and silver trees and fairy tales. As we approached the Shamirah's dwelling, I could still see nothing but rough red hillocks, and draws with shelving banks and long roots hanging out where the earth had crumbled away. Presently, against one of those banks, I saw a sort of shed, thatched with the same wine-colored grass that grew everywhere. Near it tilted a shattered windmill frame that had no wheel.

Starting point is 00:32:50 We drove up to this skeleton to tie our horses, and then I saw a door and window sunk deep in the drawbank. The door stood open, and a woman, and a girl of fourteen, ran out and looked up at us hopefully. A little girl trailed along behind them. The woman had on her head the same embroidered shawl with silk fringes that she wore when she had alighted from the train at Blackhawk. She was not old, but she was certainly not young. Her face was alert and lively, with a sharp chin and shrewd little eyes. She shook Grandmother's hand energetically. Very glad, very glad, she ejaculated.

Starting point is 00:33:33 Immediately she pointed to the bank out of which she had emerged and said, House no good, house no good. Grandmother nodded consolingly. You'll get fixed up comfortable after a while, Mrs. Shmerda. make good house. My grandmother always spoke in a very loud tone to foreigners, as if they were deaf. She made Mrs. Shemir to understand the friendly intention of our visit, and the bohemian woman handled the loaves of bread,

Starting point is 00:34:02 and even smelled them, and examined the pies with lively curiosity, exclaiming, much good, much thank! And again she wrung grandmother's hand. The oldest son, Ambrose, they called it Ambrosch, came out of the cave and stood beside his mother. He was 19 years old, short and broad-backed, with a close-cropped flat head and a wide flat face. His hazel eyes were little and shrewd, like his mother's, but more sly and suspicious. They fairly snapped at the food. The family had been living on corncakes and sorghum molasses for three.

Starting point is 00:34:41 days. The little girl was pretty, but Antonia, they accented the name thus, strongly, when they spoke to her, was still prettier. I remembered what the conductor had said about her eyes. They were big, and warm and full of light, like the sun shining on brown pools in the wood. Her skin was brown too, and in her cheeks she had a glow of rich, dark color. Her brown hair was curly and wild-looking. The little sister, whom they called Jolka, was fair, and themed mild and obedient. While I stood awkwardly confronting the two girls, Kragik came up from the barn to see what was going on. With him was another Shemir de son. Even from a distance one could see that there was something strange about this boy.

Starting point is 00:35:34 As he approached us, he began to make uncouth noises and held up his hands to show us his fingers, which were webbed to the first knuckle like a duck's foot when he saw me draw back he began to crow delightedly hoo hoo hoo hoo ho ho ho ho ho like a rooster his mother scowled and said sternly marik then spoke rapidly to crajic and bohemian she wants me to tell you that he won't hurt nobody mrs burdon he was born like that the others are smart ambrosch he made a good farmer he struck ambrosch on the back and the boy smiled knowingly at that moment the father came out of the hole in the bank he wore no hat and his thick iron-gray hair was brushed straight back from his forehead it was so long that it bushed out behind his ears and made him look like the old portraits i remember in virginia he was tall and slender and his thin shoulders stooped he looked at us understandingly then took grandmother's hand and bent over it i noticed how white and well shaped his own hands were they looked calm somehow and skilled his eyes were melancholy and were set back deep under his brow his face was ruggedly formed but it looked like ashes like something from which all the warmth and light had died out everything about this man was in keeping with his dignified manner he was neatly dressed under his coat he wore a knitted gray vest and instead of a collar a silk scarf of a dark bronze green carefully crossed and held together by a red coral pen while cragik was translating for mrs shimerda antonia came up to me and held out her hand coaxingly in a moment we were running up the steep drawside together jurka trotting after

Starting point is 00:37:30 us. When we reached the level where we could see the golden tree-tops, I pointed toward them, and Antonia laughed and squeezed my hand as if to tell me how glad she was I had come. We raced off towards Squaw Creek, and did not stop until the ground itself stopped, fell away before us so abruptly that the next step would have been out into the treetops. We stood panting on the edge of the ravine, looking down at the trees and bushes that grew below us. The wind was so strong that I had to hold my hat on, and the girl's skirts were blown out before them. Antonia seemed to like that. She held her little sister by the hand, and chattered away in that language which seemed to me spoken so much more rapidly than mine.

Starting point is 00:38:17 She looked at me, her eyes fairly blazing with things she could not say. Name, what name? She asked, touching me on the shoulder. I told her my name, and she repeated. it after me and made Jolka say it. She pointed into the gold cottonwood tree behind whose top we stood, and said again, What name? We sat down and made a nest in the long red grass. Jolka curled up like a baby rabbit and played with a grasshopper. Antonya pointed up to the sky and questioned me with her glance. I gave her the word, but she was not satisfied and pointed

Starting point is 00:38:55 into my eyes. I told her, and she repeated the word, making it sound like ice. She pointed up to the sky, then to my eyes, then back to the sky, with movements so quick and impulsive that she distracted me, and I had no idea what she wanted. She got up on her knees and wrung her hands. She pointed to her own eyes and shook her head, then to mine into the sky, nodding violently. Oh, I exclaimed blue, blue sky. She clapped her hands and murmured. Blue sky, blue eyes. As if it amused her. While we snuggled down there out of the wind, she learned a score of words. She was quick and very eager. We were so deep in the grass that we could see nothing but the blue sky over us and the gold tree in front of us. It was wonderfully pleasant. After Antonia had said the new words over and over,

Starting point is 00:39:53 to give me a little chaste silver ring that she wore on her middle finger. When she coaxed and insisted, I repulsed her quite sternly. I didn't want her ring, and I felt there was something reckless and extravagant about her wishing to give it away to a boy she had never seen before. No wonder Cragic had got the better of these people, if this was how they behaved. While we were disputing over the ring, I heard a mournful voice calling, Antonia Antonia She sprang up like a hair

Starting point is 00:40:25 Tatanek, Tatanek! She shouted, and we ran to meet the old man who was coming toward us. Antonia reached him first, took his hand and kissed it. When I came up, he touched my shoulder, and looked searchingly down into my face for several seconds. I became somewhat embarrassed, for I was used to being taken for granted by my elders.

Starting point is 00:40:47 We went with Mr. Shemarda back to the dugout, where grandmother was waiting for me. Before I got into the wagon, he took a book out of his pocket, opened it, and showed me a page with two alphabets, one English and the other bohemian. He placed this book in my grandmother's hands, looked at her entreatingly, and said with an earnestness, which I shall never forget, teach, teach my Antonia. End of Chapter 3 My Antonia by Willa Kather Book 1

Starting point is 00:41:26 The Shamirdas Chapter 4 On the afternoon of that same Sunday I took my first long ride on my pony under Otto's direction After that dude I went twice a week to the post office Six miles east of us

Starting point is 00:41:44 And I saved the men a good deal of time by writing on errands to our neighbors. When we had to borrow anything, or to send about word that there would be preaching at the Saad Schoolhouse, I was always the messenger. Formerly, Fuchs attended to such things after working hours.

Starting point is 00:42:04 All the years that have passed have not dimmed my memory of that first glorious autumn. The new country lay open before me. There were no fences in those days, and I could show, choose my own way over the grass uplands, trusting the pony to get me home again. Sometimes I followed the sunflower bordered roads.

Starting point is 00:42:25 Fuchs told me that the sunflowers were introduced into that country by the Mormons, that at the time of the persecution, when they left Missouri and struck out into the wilderness to find a place where they could worship God in their own way, the members of the first exploring party, crossing the plains to Utah, scattered sunflower seeds as they went. The next summer, when the long trains of wagons came through with all the women and children, they had the sunflower trail to follow. I believe that botanists do not confirm Jake's story,

Starting point is 00:42:59 but insist that the sunflower was native to those plains. Nevertheless, the legend has stuck in my mind, and sunflower-bordered roads always seem to me the roads to freedom. I used to love to drift along the pale yellow cornfields, looking for the damp spots one sometimes found at their edges, where the smart weed soon turned a rich copper color, and the narrow brown leaves hung curled like cocoons about the swollen joints of the stem. Sometimes I went south to visit our German neighbors and to admire their Catalpa Grove, or to see the big elm tree that grew up out of the deep crack in the earth and had a hawk's nest in it. its branches. Trees were so rare in that country, and they had to make such a hard fight to to grow, that we used to feel anxious about them, and visit them as if they were persons. It must have been the scarcity of detail in that tawny landscape that made detail so precious.

Starting point is 00:44:03 Sometimes I rode north to the prairie dog town, to watch the brown earth owls fly home in the late afternoon, or go down to their nests underground with the dogs. Antonia Shemirda liked to go with me, and we used to wonder a great deal about these birds of subterranean habit. We had to be on our guard there, for rattlesnakes were always lurking about. They came to pick up an easy living among the dogs and owls, which were quite defenseless against them, took possession of their comfortable houses and ate their eggs and puppies. We felt sorry for the owls. It was always mournful to see them come flying home at sunset and disappear under the earth.

Starting point is 00:44:47 But after all, we felt, winged things who would live like that must be rather degraded creatures. The dog town was a long way from any pond or creek. Otto Fuchs said he had seen populous dog towns in the desert, where there was no surface water for 50 miles. He insisted that some of the holes must go down to water, nearly 200 feet hereabouts. Antonia said she didn't believe it, that the dogs probably lapped up the dew in the early morning, like the rabbits. Antonia had opinions about everything, and she was soon able to make them known. Almost every day she came running across the prairie to have her reading lesson with me.

Starting point is 00:45:32 Mrs. Shamirda grumbled, but realized it was important that one member of the family, should learn English. When the lesson was over, we used to go up to the watermelon patch behind the garden. I split the melons with an old corn knife, and we lifted out the hearts and ate them with juice trickling through our fingers. The white Christmas melons we did not touch, but we watched them with curiosity. They were to be picked late when the hard frosts had set in and put away for winter use. After weeks on the ocean, the Shamirdas were famished for fruit. The two girls would wander for miles along the edge of the cornfields, hunting for ground cherries. Antonia loved to help grandmother in the kitchen, and to learn about

Starting point is 00:46:21 cooking and housekeeping. She would stand beside her, watching her every movement. We were willing to believe that Mrs. Shamirda was a good housewife in her own country, but she managed poorly under new conditions. The conditions were bad enough, certainly. I remember how horrified we were at the sour, ashy gray bread she gave her family to eat. She mixed her dough, we discovered, in an old tin peck measure that Kragick had used about the barn. When she took the paste out to bake it, she left smears of dough sticking to the sides of the measure. Put the measure back on the shelf behind the stove and let this residue ferment. The next time she made bread, she scraped this sour stuff down into the fresh dough to

Starting point is 00:47:08 serve as yeast. During those first months, the Shamirdis never went to town. Kragik encouraged them in the belief that in Black Hawk they would somehow be mysteriously separated from their money. They hated Kragick, but they clung to him because he was the only human being with whom they could talk, or from whom they could get information. He slept with the old man and the two boys in the dugout barn, along with the oxen. They kept him in their hole and fed him for the same reason that the prairie dogs and the brown owls housed rattlesnakes because they did not know how to get rid of him. End of chapter four. My Antonia by Willa Kather. Book 1. The Shamirdas. Chapter 5. We knew that things were hard for our bohemian neighbors, but the two girls were light-hearted and never complained.

Starting point is 00:48:18 They were always ready to forget their troubles at home and to run away with me over the prairie, scaring rabbits or starting up flocks of quail. I remember Antonia's excitement when she came into our kitchen one afternoon and announced, My papa find friends up north with Russian mans. Last night he take me for sea, and I can understand very much talk. Nice man's, Mrs. Burden. One is fat, and all the time laugh. Everybody laugh.

Starting point is 00:48:49 The first time I see my papa laugh in this country. oh very nice i asked her if she meant the two russians who lived up by the big dog town i had often been tempted to ghost to see them when i was riding in that direction but one of them was a wild-looking fellow and i was a little afraid of him russia seemed to me more remote than any other country farther away than china almost as far as the north pole of all the strange uprooted people among the first settlers those two men were the strangest and the most aloof their last names were unpronounceable so they were called pavel and peter they went about making signs to people and until the shimerdis came they had no friends cradc could understand them a little but he had cheated them in a trade so they avoided him pavel the tall one was said to be an anarchist, since he had no means of imparting his opinions, probably his wild gesticulations, and his generally excited and rebellious manner gave rise to this supposition. He must once have been a very strong man, but now his great frame, with big, naughty joints,

Starting point is 00:50:10 had a wasted look, and the skin was drawn tight over his high cheekbones. His breathing was hoarse, and he always had a cough. Peter, his companion, was a very different sort of fellow, short, bow-legged, and his fat as butter. He always seemed pleased when he met people on the road, smiled, and took off his cap to everyone, men as well as women. At a distance, on his wagon, he looked like an old man. His hair and beard were of such a pale flaxen color that they seemed white in the sun. They were as thick and curly, as carted wool. His rosy face with its snub nose, set in this fleece, was like a melon among leaves. He was usually called curly Peter, or Ruchen Peter. The two Russians made good farmhands,

Starting point is 00:51:08 and in the summer they worked out together. I had heard our neighbors laughing when they told how Peter always had to go home at night to milk his cow. Other bachelor homesteaders used handmilk to save trouble. Sometimes Peter came to church at the Saad schoolhouse. It was there I first saw him, sitting on a low bench by the door, his plush cap in his hands, his bare feet tucked apologetically under the seat. After Mr. Shemirda discovered the Russians, he went to see them almost every evening, and sometimes took Antonia with him. She said that they came from a part of Russia where the language was not very different from bohemian, and if I wanted to go to their place, she could talk to them for me.

Starting point is 00:51:57 One afternoon, before the heavy frosts began, we rode up there together on my pony. The Russians had a neat log house, built on a grassy slope, with a windlass well beside the door. As we rode up the draw, we skirted a big melon patch, and a garden where squashes and yellow cucumbers lay about on the side. We found Peter out behind his kitchen, bending over a wash tub. He was working so hard that he did not hear us coming.

Starting point is 00:52:29 His whole body moved up and down as he rubbed, and he was a funny sight from the rear, with his shaggy head and bandy legs. When he straightened himself up to greet us, drops of perspiration were rolling from his thick nose, down on to his curly beard. Peter dried his hands and seemed glad to leave his washing. He took us down to see his chickens, and his cow that was grazing on the hillside. He told Antonia that in his country only rich people had cows,

Starting point is 00:52:59 but here any man could have one who could take care of her. The milk was good for Pavel, who was often sick, and he could make butter by beating sour cream with a wooden spoon. Peter was very fond of his cow. He patted her flanks and talked to her in Russian, while he pulled up her lariat pen and set it in a new place. After he had shown us his garden, Peter trundled a load of watermelons up the hill in his wheelbarrow.

Starting point is 00:53:28 Pavel was not at home. He was off somewhere helping to dig a well. The house I thought very comfortable for two men who were batching. Besides the kitchen, there was a living room with a wide double bed built against the wall, properly made up with blue gingham sheets and pillows. there was a little store-room too with a window where they kept guns and saddles and tools and old coats and boots that day the floor was covered with garden things drying for winter corn and beans and fat yellow cucumbers there were no screens or window-blinds in the house and all the doors and windows stood wide open letting in flies and sunshine alike peter put the melons in a row on the oil-cloth-covered table and stood over them brandishing a butcher knife

Starting point is 00:54:18 before the blade got fairly into them they split of their own ripeness with a delicious sound he gave us knives but no plates and the top of the table was soon swimming with juice and seeds i had never seen any one eat so many melons as peter ate he assured us that they were very good for one better than medicine in his country people lived on them at this time of the year he was very hospitable and jolly once while he was looking at antonia he sighed and told us that if he had stayed home in russia perhaps by this time he would have a pretty daughter of his own to cook and keep house for him he said he had left his country because of a great trouble When we got up to go, Peter looked about in perplexity for something that would entertain us. He ran into the storeroom and brought out a godly painted harmonica, sat down on a bench, and spreading his fat legs apart, began to play like a whole band. The tunes were either very lively or very doleful, and he sang words to some of them. Before we left, Peter put ripe cucumbers into a sack for Mrs. Shamirda,

Starting point is 00:55:32 and gave us a lard pail full of milk to cook them in. I had never heard of cooking cucumbers, but Antonia assured me that they were very good. We had to walk the pony all the way home to keep from spilling the milk. End of Chapter 5. My Antonia, by Willa Cather. Book 1, Chapter 6. One afternoon we were having our reading lesson on the warm grassy bank where the badger lived.

Starting point is 00:56:07 It was a day of amber sunlight, but there was a shiver of coming winter in the air. I had seen ice on the little horse pond that morning, and as we went through the garden, we found the tall asparagus, with its red berries lying on the ground, a mass of slimy green. Tony was barefooted, and she shivered in her cotton dress and was comfortable only when we were tucked down on the baked earth in the full blaze of the sun. she could talk to me about almost anything by this time that afternoon she was telling me how highly esteemed our friend the badger was in her part of the world and how men kept a special kind of dog with very short legs to hunt him those dogs she said went down into the hole after the badger and killed him there in a terrific struggle underground you could hear the barks and yelps outside then the dog dragged himself back covered

Starting point is 00:57:07 with bites and scratches to be rewarded and petted by his master. She knew a dog who had a star on his collar for every badger he had killed. The rabbits were unusually spry that afternoon. They kept starting up all about us and dashing off down the draw as if they were playing a game of some kind. But the little buzzing things that lived in the grass were all dead. All but one. While we were lying there against the warm bank, a little. little insect of the palest, frailest green hopped painfully out of the buffalo grass and tried to leap into a bunch of blue stem. He missed it, fell back, and sat with his head, sunk between his long legs, his antennae quivering, as if he were waiting for something to come and finish him.

Starting point is 00:58:00 Tony made a warm nest for him in her hands, talked to him gaily and indulgently in Bohemian. Presently, he began to sing. for us, a thin, rusty little chirp. She held him close to her ear and laughed, but a moment afterward I saw there were tears in her eyes. She told me that in her village at home there was an old beggar woman who went about selling herbs and roots she had dug up in the forest. If you took her in and gave her a warm place by the fire, she sang old songs to the children, in a cracked voice like this. Old Hata, she was called, and the children loved to see her coming and save their cakes and sweets for her. When the bank on the other side of the draw began to throw a narrow shelf

Starting point is 00:58:50 of shadow, we knew we ought to be starting homeward. The chill came on quickly when the sun got low, and Antonia's dress was thin. What were we to do with the frail little creature we had lured back to life by false pretences. I offered my pockets, but Tony shook her head and carefully put the green insect in her hair, tying her big handkerchief down loosely over her curls. I said I would go with her until we could see Squaw Creek and then turn and run home. We drifted along lazily, very happy, through the magical light of the late afternoon. All those fall afternoons were the same, but I never got used to. to them. As far as we could see, the miles of copper-red grass were drenched in sunlight that

Starting point is 00:59:41 was stronger and fiercer than at any other time of the day. The blonde cornfields were red gold, the haystacks turned rosy, and through long shadows. The whole prairie was like the bush that burned with fire and was not consumed. That hour always had the exultation of victory, of triumphant ending, like a hero's death, heroes who died young and gloriously. It was a sudden transfiguration, a lifting up of day. How many an afternoon Antony and I

Starting point is 01:00:16 have trailed along the prairie under that magnificence, and always two long black shadows flitted before us or followed after, dark spots on the ruddy grass. We had been silent, a long time, and the edge of the sun sank nearer and nearer the prairie floor when we saw a figure moving on the edge of the upland, a gun over his shoulder. He was walking slowly, dragging his feet along as if he had no purpose. We broke into a run to overtake him.

Starting point is 01:00:50 "'My papa, sick all the time,' Tony panted as we flew. "'He not looked good, Jim.' As we neared Mr. Shemarida, she shepherds. and he lifted his head and peered about. Tony ran up to him, caught his hand, and pressed it against her cheek. She was the only one of his family who could rouse the old man from the torpor in which he seemed to live. He took the bag from his belt and showed us three rabbits he had shot, looked at Antonia with a wintry flicker of a smile and began to tell her something. She turned to me.

Starting point is 01:01:26 My Tannick make me little hat with the skins, little hat for winter. she exclaimed joyfully, "'Meat for eat, skin for hat. "'She told off these benefits on her fingers. "'Her father put his hand on her hair, "'but she caught his wrist and lifted it carefully away, "'talking to him rapidly. "'I heard the name old Hata.

Starting point is 01:01:47 "'He untied the handkerchief, "'separated her hair with his fingers, "'and stood looking down at the green insect. "'When it began to chirp faintly, "'he listened as if it were a beautiful sound. i picked up the gun he had dropped a queer piece from the old country short and heavy with a stag's head on the cock when he saw me examining it he turned to me with his far-away look that always made me feel as if i were down at the bottom of a well he spoke kindly and gravely and antonia translated my tectnick say when you are big boy he give you his gun very fine from bohamee it was belonged to a great man very rich, like what you not got here, many fields, many forests, many big house.

Starting point is 01:02:37 My papa played for his wedding, and he gave my papa fine gun, and my papa give you. I was glad that this project was one of futurity. There never were such people as the Shemirdas for wanting to give away everything they had. Even the mother was always offering me things, though I knew she expected substantial presence in return. We stood there in friendly silence while the feeble minstrel sheltered in Antonia's hair went on with its scratchy chirp. The old man's smile, as he listened, was so full of sadness, of pity for things, that I never afterward forgot it.

Starting point is 01:03:18 As the sun sank, there came a sudden coolness and the strong smell of earth and drying grass. Antony and her father went off hand in hand, and I buttoned up my jacket and raced my shadow home. End of chapter six. Book 1, Chapter 7 of My Antonia by Willa Cather. Much as I liked Antonia, I hated a superior tone that she sometimes took with me. She was four years older than I, to be sure, and had seen more of the world. But I was a boy, and she was a girl, and I resented her protecting manner.

Starting point is 01:03:57 Before the autumn was over, she began to treat me more like an equal and to defer to me in other things than reading lessons. This change came about from an adventure we had together. One day when I rode over to the Shemaritas, I found Antonia starting off on foot for Russian Peter's house to borrow a spade Ambrosch needed. I offered to take her on the pony, and she got up behind me. There had been another black frost the night before, and the air was clear. and Hettya's wine. Within a week, all the blooming roads had been despoiled. Hundreds of miles of yellow sunflowers had been transformed into brown, rattling, burry stalks. We found Russian Peter digging his potatoes. We were glad to go in and get warm by his kitchen stove, and to see his

Starting point is 01:04:47 squashes and Christmas melons heaped in the storeroom for winter. As we rode away with the spade, Antonia suggested that we stopped at the prairie dog town and dig into one of the holes. We could find out whether they ran straight down or were horizontal, like moleholes, whether they had underground connections, whether the owls had nest down there, lined with feathers. We might get some puppies, or owl eggs, or snake skins. The dog town was spread out over perhaps ten acres. The grass had been nibbled short and even, so this stretch was not shamed. and red like the surrounding country, but gray and velvety.

Starting point is 01:05:28 The holes were several yards apart, and were disposed with a good deal of regularity, almost as if the town had been laid out in streets and avenues. One always felt that an orderly and very sociable kind of life was going on there. I picketed dude down in a draw, and we went wandering about, looking for a hole that would be easy to dig. The dogs were out, as usual, dozens of them, sitting up on their hind legs over the doors of their houses. As we approached, they barked, shook their tails at us, and scurried underground.

Starting point is 01:06:02 Before the mouths of the holes were little patches of sand and gravel, scratched up, we supposed, from a long way below the surface. Here and there in the town we came on larger gravel patches, several yards away from any hole. If the dogs had scratched the sand up in excavating, how had they carried it so far? It was on one of these gravel beds that I met my adventure. We were examining a big hole with two entrances.

Starting point is 01:06:31 The burrows sloped into the ground at a gentle angle so that we could see where the two corridors united and the floor was dusty from use, like a little highway over which much travel went. I was walking backward in a crouching position when I heard Antonia scream. She was standing opposite me, pointing behind me and shouting something in Bohemian.

Starting point is 01:06:51 I whirled round and there on one of those dry gravel beds was the biggest snake I had ever seen. He was sunning himself after the cold night, and he must have been asleep when Antonia screamed. When I turned, he was lying in long, loose waves, like a letter W. He twitched and began to coil slowly. He was not merely a big snake, I thought.

Starting point is 01:07:15 He was a circus monstrosity. His abominable muscularity, his loathsome fluid motion somehow made me sick. He was as thick as my leg and looked as if millstones couldn't crush the disgusting vitality out of him. He lifted his hideous little head and rattled. I didn't run because I didn't think of it.

Starting point is 01:07:36 If my back had been against a stone wall, I couldn't have felt more cornered. I saw his coils tighten. Now he would spring, spring his length, I remembered. I ran up and drove at his head with my spade, struck him fairly across the neck, and in a minute he was all about my feet in wavy loops. I struck now from hate.

Starting point is 01:07:58 Antonia, barefooted as she was, ran up behind me. Even after I had pounded his ugly head flat, his body kept on coiling and winding, doubling and falling back on itself. I walked away and turned my back. I felt seasick. Antonia came after me crying. Oh, Jimmy, he not bite you?

Starting point is 01:08:18 You sure? You not run when I say. What do you jabber bohunk for? You might have told me there was a snake behind me, I said petulantly. I know I'm just awful, Jim. I was so scared. She took my handkerchief from my pocket and tried to wipe my face with it, but I snatched it away from her.

Starting point is 01:08:37 I suppose I looked as sick as I felt. I never know you was so brave, Jim, she went on comfortingly. You was just like big man's. You wait for him, lift his head, and then you go, for him. And you feel scared a bit? Now we take that snake home and show everybody. Nobody ain't seen in this country so big snake like you kill. She went on in this strain until I began to think that I had longed for this opportunity and had hailed it with joy. Cautiously, we went back to the snake. He was still groping with his tail, turning up his ugly belly in the light. A faint, fetid smell

Starting point is 01:09:14 came from him, and a thread of green liquid oozed from his crushed head. Look, Tony, that's his poison, I said. I took a long piece of string from my pocket, and she lifted his head with a spade while I tied a noose around it. We pulled him out straight and measured him by my riding court. He was about five and a half feet long. He had twelve rattles, but they were broken off before they began to taper, so I insisted that he must once have had 24. I explained to Antonia, how this meant that he was 24 years old, that he must have been there when white men first came,

Starting point is 01:09:50 left on from Buffalo in Indian times. As I turned him over, I began to feel proud of him, to have a kind of respect for his age and size. He seemed like the ancient eldest evil. Certainly, his kind have left horrible, unconscious memories in all warm-blooded life. When we dragged him down into the draw,

Starting point is 01:10:11 dude sprang off to the end of his tether and shivered all over, wouldn't let us come near him. We decided that Antonia should ride dude home, and I would walk. As she rode slowly, her bare leg swinging against the pony's sides, she kept

Starting point is 01:10:28 shouting back to me about how astonished everybody would be. I followed with a spade over my shoulder, dragging my snake. Her exultation was contagious. The great land had never looked to me so big and free. If the red grass were full of rat,

Starting point is 01:10:43 I was equal to them all. Nevertheless, I stole furtive glances behind me, now and then, to see that no avenging mate, older and bigger than my query, was racing up from the rear. The sun had set when we reached our garden and went down the draw toward the house. Otto Fuchs was the first one we met.

Starting point is 01:11:05 He was sitting on the edge of the cattle pond, having a quiet pipe before supper. Antonya called him to come quick and look. He did not say anything for a minute, but scratched his head and turned the snake over with his boot. Where did you run into that beauty, Jim? Up at the dog town, I answered laconically. Kill him yourself. How come you to have a weapon? We'd been up to Russian Peters to borrow a spade for Ambrosch.

Starting point is 01:11:36 Otto shook the ashes out of his pipe and squatted down to the rattles. It was just luck you had a tool, he said cautiously. Gosh, I wouldn't want to do any business with that fellow myself, unless I had a fence post along. Your grandmother's snake came wouldn't more than tickle him. You could stand right up and talk to you. He could. Did he fight hard? Antonya broke in.

Starting point is 01:11:58 He fights something awful. He's all over Jimmy's boots. I screamed for him to run, but he just hit and hit that snake like he was crazy. Otto winked at me. After Antonia rode on, he said. Got him in the head first, correct, didn't you? That was just as well. We hung him up onto the windmill, and when I went down to the kitchen,

Starting point is 01:12:19 I found Antonia standing in the middle of the floor, telling the story with a great deal of color. Subsequent experiences with rattlesnakes taught me that my first encounter was fortunate in circumstance. My big retler was old and had led too easy a life. There was not much fight in him. He had probably lived there for years with a fat prairie dog for breakfast whenever he felt like it. a sheltered home, even an owl-feather bed, perhaps, and he had forgot that the world does not owe Rattler's living.

Starting point is 01:12:52 A snake of his size and fighting trim would be more than any boy could handle. So in reality, it was a mock adventure. The game was fixed for me by chance, as it probably was for many a dragon slayer. I had been adequately armed by Russian Peter. The snake was old and lazy, and I had Antonya beside me to appreciate and admire. That snake hung on our coral fence for several days. Some of the neighbors came to see it and agreed that it was the biggest rattler ever killed in those parts. This was enough for Antonia.

Starting point is 01:13:26 She liked me better from that time on, and she never took a supercilious air with me again. I had killed a big snake. I was now a big fellow. End of Chapter 7. Book 1, Chapter 8 of My Antonia by Willa. Cather. While the autumn color was growing pale on the grass and cornfields, things went badly with our friends, the Russians. Peter told his troubles to Mr. Shemerta. He was unable to meet a note which fell due on the first of November, had to pay an exorbitant bonus on renewing it, and to give a mortgage on his pigs and horses, and even his milk cow. His creditor was

Starting point is 01:14:09 Wick Cutter, the merciless Black Hawk Moneylender, a man of evil name, throughout the country, of whom I shall have more to say later. Peter could give no very clear account of his transactions with Cutter. He only knew that he had first borrowed $200, then another hundred, then 50, that each time a bonus was added to the principal, and the debt grew faster than any crop he planted. Now everything was plastered with mortgages. Soon after Peter renewed his note, Pavel strained himself lifting timbers for a new barn and fell over among the shavings with such a gush of blood from the lungs that his fellow workmen thought he would die on the spot. They hauled him home and put him into his bed, and there he lay, very ill indeed.

Starting point is 01:14:57 Misfortune seemed to settle like an evil bird on the roof of the log house, and to flap its wings there, warning human beings away. The Russians had such bad luck that people were afraid of them and liked put them out of mind. One afternoon, Antonia and her father came over to our house to get buttermilk and lingered as they usually did, until the sun was low. Just as they were leaving, Russian Peter drove up. Pavel was very bad, he said, and wanted to talk to Mr. Shemerta and his daughter. He had come to fetch them.

Starting point is 01:15:31 When Antonia and her father got into the wagon, I entreated grandmother to let me go with them. I would gladly go without supper. I would sleep in the Shemarida's barn and run home in the morning. My plan must have seemed very foolish to her, but she was often large-minded about humoring the desires of other people. She asked Peter to wait a moment, and when she came back from the kitchen, she brought a bag of sandwiches and donuts for us.

Starting point is 01:15:56 Mr. Shemarida and Peter were on the front seat. Antonia and I sat in the straw behind and ate our lunch as we bumped along. After the sun sank, a cold wind sprang up and moaned the prairie. If this turn in the weather had come sooner, I should not have got away. We burrowed down in the straw and curled up close together, watching the angry red die out of the west, and the stars begin to shine in the clear, windy sky. Peter kept sighing and groaning. Tony whispered to me that he was afraid Pavel would never get well. We lay still and did not talk. Up there the stars grew magnificently bright, though we had come from such a

Starting point is 01:16:38 different parts of the world, in both of us there was some dusky superstition that those shining groups have their influence upon what is and what is not to be. Perhaps Russian Peter, come from farther away than any of us, had brought from his land too, some such belief. The little house on the hillside was so much the color of the night that we could not see it as we came up the draw. The ruddy windows guided us, the light from the kitchen stove, for there was no lamp burning. We entered softly, The man in the wide bed seemed to be asleep. Tony and I sat down on the bench by the wall and leaned our arms on the table in front of us.

Starting point is 01:17:17 The firelight flickered on the hewn logs that supported the thatch overhead. Pavel made a rasping sound when he breathed, and he kept moaning. We waited. The wind shook the doors and windows impatiently, then swept on again, singing through the big spaces. Each gust, as it bore down,

Starting point is 01:17:35 rattled the panes, and swelled off like, the others. They made me think of defeated armies retreating, or of ghosts who were trying desperately to get in for shelter, and then went moaning on. Presently, in one of those sobbing intervals between the blasts, the coyotes tuned up with their whining howl, one, two, three, then altogether, to tell us that winter was coming. This sound brought an answer from the bed, a long, complaining cry, as if Pavel were having bad dreams or were waking, to some old misery. Peter listened but did not stir. He was sitting on the floor by the kitchen stove. The coyotes broke out again. Yep, yep, yep, yep, then the high wine. Pavel called for

Starting point is 01:18:21 something and struggled up on his elbow. He is scared of wolves, Antonia whispered to me. In his country, there are very many, and they eat men and women. We slid closer together along the bench. I could not take my eyes off the man in the bed. His shirt was hanging open and his emaciated chest, covered with yellow bristle, rose and fell horribly. He began to cough. Peter shuffled to his feet, caught up the tea kettle, and mixed him some hot water and whiskey.

Starting point is 01:18:52 The sharp smell of spirits went through the room. Pavel snatched the cup and drank, then made Peter give him the bottle and slipped it under his pillow, grinning disagreeably, as if he had outwitted someone. His eyes followed Peter about the room with a contemptuous, unfriendly expression. It seemed to me that he despised him for being so simple and docile. Presently, Pavel began to talk to Mr. Shemerta, scarcely above a whisper.

Starting point is 01:19:19 He was telling a long story, and as he went on, Antonia took my hand under the table and held it tight. She leaned forward and strained her ears to hear him. He grew more and more excited and kept pointing all around his bed, as if there were thick. things there and he wanted Mr. Shemarida to see them. It's wolves, Jimmy, Antonia whispered. It's awful what he says. The sick man raged and shook his fist. He seemed to be cursing people who had wronged him.

Starting point is 01:19:49 Mr. Shemarada caught him by the shoulders but could hardly hold him in bed. At last he was shut off by a coughing fit which fairly choked him. He pulled a cloth from under his pillow and held it to his mouth. Quickly, it was covered with bright red spots. I thought I had never seen any blood so bright. When he lay down and turned his face to the wall, all the rage had gone out of him. He lay patiently fighting for breath, like a child with croup.

Starting point is 01:20:16 Antony's father uncovered one of his long bony legs and rubbed it rhythmically. From our bench we could see what a hollow case his body was. His spine and shoulder blades stood out like the bones under the hide of a dead steer left in the fields. That sharp backbone must have hurt him when he lay on it. Gradually, relief came to all of us. Whatever it was, the worst was over. Mr. Shemarida signed to us that Pavel was asleep. Without a word, Peter got up and lit his lantern.

Starting point is 01:20:46 He was going out to get his team to drive us home. Mr. Shemarda went with him. We sat and watched the long bowed back under the blue sheet, scarcely daring to breathe. On the way home, when we were lying in the straw, under the jolting and rattling Antonya told me as much of the story as she could. What she did not tell me then, she told later. We talked of nothing else for days afterward.

Starting point is 01:21:14 When Pavel and Peter were young men, living at home in Russia, they were asked to be groomsmen for a friend who was to marry the bell of another village. It was in the dead of winter and the groom's party went over to the wedding and sledges. Peter and Pavel drove in the groom's sledge and six sledges followed with all his relatives and friends. After the ceremony at the church, the party went to a dinner given by the parents of the bride. The dinner lasted all afternoon. Then it became a supper and continued far into the night. There was much dancing and drinking. At midnight, the parents of the bride said goodbye to her and blessed her. The groom took her up in his arms and carried her out to a sledge and tucked her under the

Starting point is 01:21:55 blankets. He sprang in beside her, and Pavel and Peter, our Pavel and Peter, took the front seat. Pavel drove. The party set out with singing and the jingle of sleigh bells, the groom sledge, going first. All the drivers were more or less the worse for Mary-making, and the groom was absorbed in his bride. The wolves were bad that winter, and everyone knew it, yet when they heard the first wolf cry, the drivers were not much alarmed. They had too much good food and drink inside them. The first howls were taken up and echoed, and with quickening repetitions. The wolves were coming together. There was no moon, but the starlight was clear on the snow. A black drove came up over the hill behind the wedding party. The wolves ran like streaks of

Starting point is 01:22:42 shadow. They look no bigger than dogs, but there were hundreds of them. Something happened to the hindmost sledge. The driver lost control. He was probably very drunk. The horses left the road. The sledge was caught up in a clump of trees and overturned. The occupants rolled out over the snow, and the fleetest of the wolves sprang upon them. The shrieks that followed made everybody sober. The driver stood up and lashed their horses. The groom had the best team, and his sledge was lightest. All the others carried from six to a dozen people. Another driver lost control. The screams of the horses were more terrible to hear than the cries of the men and women. women. Nothing seemed to check the wolves. It was hard to tell what was happening in the rear. The people

Starting point is 01:23:29 who were falling behind shrieked as piteously as those who were already lost. The little bride hit her face on the groom's shoulder and sobbed. Pavel sat still and watched his horses. The road was clear and white, and the groom's three blacks went like the wind. It was only necessary to be calm and to guide them carefully. At length, as they breasted a long hill, Peter rose-cold. cautiously and looked back. There are only three sledges left, he whispered. And the wolves, Pavel asked. Enough, enough for all of us.

Starting point is 01:24:06 Pavel reached the brow of the hill, but only two sledges followed him down the other side. In that moment on the hilltop, they saw behind them a whirling black group on the snow. Presently the groom screamed. He saw his father's sledge overturned with his mothers and sisters. He sprang up as if he meant to jump. But the girl shrieked and held him back.

Starting point is 01:24:25 It was even then too late. The black ground shadows were already crowding over the heap in the road, and one horse ran out across the fields, his harness hanging to him, wolves at his heels. But the groom's movement had given Pavel an idea. They were within a few miles of their village now. The only sledge left out of six was not very far behind them, and Pavel's mill horse was failing. Beside a frozen pond, something happened to the other sledge.

Starting point is 01:24:52 Peter saw it plainly. Three big wolves got a breast of the horses, and the horses went crazy. They tried to jump over each other, got tangled up in the harness, and overturned the sledge. When the shrieking behind them died away, Pavel realized that he was alone upon the familiar road. They still come? he asked Peter. Yes. How many? Twenty, thirty, enough.

Starting point is 01:25:19 Now his middle horse was being almost dragged by the other two. Pavel gave Peter the reins and stepped carefully into the back of the sledge. He called to the groom that they must lighten and pointed to the bride. The young man cursed him and held her tighter. Pavel tried to drag her away. In the struggle, the groom rose. Pavel knocked him over the side of the sledge and threw the girl after him. He said he never remembered exactly how he did it or what happened afterward.

Starting point is 01:25:47 Peter, crouching in the front seat, saw nothing. The first thing either of them noticed was a new sound that broke into the clean air. Louder than they had ever heard it before, the bell of the monastery of their own village ringing for early prayers. Pavel and Peter drove into the village alone, and they had been alone ever since. They were run out of their village. Pavel's own mother would not look at him. They went away to strange towns, but when people learned where they came from, They were always asked if they knew the two men who had fed the bride to the wolves.

Starting point is 01:26:23 Wherever they went, the story followed them. It took them five years to save money enough to come to America. They worked in Chicago, Des Moines, Fort Wayne, but they were always unfortunate. When Pavel's health grew so bad, they decided to try farming. Pavel died a few days after he unburdened his mind to Mr. Shemerta and was buried in the Norwegian graveyard. Peter sold off everything and left the country, went to be cook in a railway construction camp where gangs of Russians were employed. At his sale, we bought Peter's wheelbarrel and some of his harness.

Starting point is 01:26:59 During the auction, he went about with his head down and never lifted his eyes. He seemed not to care about anything. The Black Hawk money lender who held mortgages on Peter's livestock was there, and he bought in the sale notes at about 50 cents on the dollar. Everyone said Peter kissed the cow before she was led away by her new owner. I did not see him do it, but this I know. After all his furniture and his cookstove and pots and pans had been hauled off by the purchasers, when his house was stripped and bare, he sat down on the floor with his clasped knife

Starting point is 01:27:34 and ate all the melons that he had put away for winter. When Mr. Shemerta and Krayje drove up in their wagon to take Peter to the train, they found him with a dripping beard surrounded by heaps of melon rinds. The loss of his two friends had a depressing effect upon old Mr. Shemerta. When he was out hunting, he used to go into the empty log house and sit there, brooding. This cabin was his hermitage until the winter snows penned him in his cave. For Antonia and me, the story of the wedding party was never at an end. We did not tell Pavel's secret to anyone, but guarded it jealously.

Starting point is 01:28:12 As if the wolves of the Ukraine had gathered that night long ago, and the wedding party had been sacrificed to give us a painful and peculiar pleasure. At night, before I went to sleep, I often found myself in a sledge drawn by three horses, dashing through a country that looks something like Nebraska and something like Virginia. End of Chapter 8 My Antonia by Willa Cather, Book 1, The Shemerdas, Chapter 9. The first snowfall came early in December. I remember how the world looked from our sitting-room window as I dressed behind the stove that morning.

Starting point is 01:28:52 The low sky was like a sheet of metal. The blonde cornfields had faded out, into ghostliness at last. The little pond was frozen under its stiff willow bushes. Big white flakes were whirling over everything and disappearing in the red grass. Beyond the pond, on the slope that climbed to the cornfield, there was, faintly marked in the grass, a great circle where the Indians used to ride. Jake and Otto were sure that when they galloped round that ring, the Indians tortured prisoners, bound to a stake in the center. But Grandfather thought they merely ran races or trained horses there. Whenever one looked at this slope against the setting sun, the circle showed like a pattern in the grass, and this morning, when the first light spray of snow lay over it, it came out with one

Starting point is 01:29:41 wonderful distinctness, like strokes of Chinese white on canvas. The old figure stirred in me as it had never done before, and seemed a good omen for the winter. As soon as the snow had packed hard, I began to drive about the country in a clumsy sleigh that Otto Fuchs made for me by fastening a wooden goods box on bobs. Fuchs had been apprenticed to a cabinetmaker in the old country and was very handy with tools. He would have done a better job if I hadn't hurried him. My first trip was to the post office, and the next day I went over to take Yulka and Antonia for a sleigh ride. It was a bright, cold day. I piled straw and buffalo robes into the box, and took two hot bricks wrapped in old blankets. When I got to the Shemerdas, I did not go up to the house, but sat in my sleigh at the bottom of the draw and called.

Starting point is 01:30:35 Antonia and Yulka came running out, wearing little rabbit-skin hats their father had made for them. They had heard about my sledge from Ambrosch and knew why I had come. They tumbled in beside me, and we set off toward the north, along a road that happened to be broken. The sky was brilliantly blue, and the sunlight on the glittering white stretches of prairie was almost blinding. As Antonia said, the whole world was changed by the snow. We kept looking in vain for familiar landmarks.

Starting point is 01:31:06 The deep arroyo, through which Squaw Creek wound, was now only a cleft between snow drifts, very blue when one looked down into it. The treetops that had been gold all the autumn were dwarfed and twisted, as if they would never have any life in them again. The few little cedars, which were so dull and dingy before, now stood out a strong, dusky green. The wind had the burning taste of fresh snow. My throat and nostrils smarted as if someone had opened a heart-shorn bottle.

Starting point is 01:31:37 The cold stung, and at the same time, delighted one. My horse's breath rose like steam, and whenever we stopped, he smoked all over. The cornfields got back a little of their color under the dazzling light, and stood the palest possible gold in the sun and snow. All about us the snow was crusted in shallow terraces, with tracings like ripple marks at the edges, curly waves that were the actual impression of the stinging lash in the wind. The girls had on cotton dresses under their shawls.

Starting point is 01:32:10 They kept shivering beneath the buffalo robes and hugging each other for warmth. But they were so glad to get away from their ugly cave and their mother's scolding that they begged me to go on and on as far as Russian Peter's house. The Great Fresh Open, after the stupefying warmth indoors, made them behave like wild things. They laughed and shouted and said they never wanted to go home again. Couldn't we settle down and live in Russian Peter's house, Yulka asked, and couldn't I go to town and buy things for us to keep house with?

Starting point is 01:32:42 All the way to Russian Peters we were extravagantly happy, but when we turned back, it must have been about four o'clock. The east wind grew stronger and began to howl. The sun lost its heartening power, and the sky became gray and somber. I took off my long-wollen comforter and wound Comforter and wound it around Yulka's throat. She got so cold that we made her hide her head under the buffalo robe. Antonia and I sat erect, but I held the reins clumsily, and my eyes were blinded by the wind a good deal of the time. It was growing dark when we got to their house, but I refused to go in with them and get warm. I knew my hands would ache terribly if I went near a fire. Yolka forgot to give me back my comforter, and I had to drive home directly against the wind. The next day, I came down with

Starting point is 01:33:30 an attack of Quincy, which kept me in the house for nearly two weeks. The basement kitchen seemed heavenly safe and warm in those days, like a tight little boat in a winter sea. The men were out in the fields all day, husking corn, and when they came in at noon, with long caps pulled down over their ears and their feet in red-lined over shoes, I used to think they were like Arctic explorers. In the afternoons, when grandmother sat upstairs darning or making husking gloves, I read the Swiss family Robinson aloud to her, and I felt that the Swiss family had no advantages over us in the way of an adventurous life. I was convinced that man's strongest antagonist is the cold.

Starting point is 01:34:13 I admired the cheerful zest with which grandmother went about keeping us warm and comfortable and well-fed. She often reminded me, when she was preparing for the return of the hungry men, that this country was not like Virginia, and that here a cook had, as she said, very little to do with. On Sundays she gave us as much chicken as we could eat, and on other days we had ham or bacon or sausage meat. She baked either pies or cake for us every day, unless, for a change, she made my favorite pudding, striped with currants and boiled in a bag. Next to getting warm and keeping warm, dinner and supper were the most interesting things we had to think about. centered around warmth and food and the return of the men at nightfall. I used to wonder when they

Starting point is 01:35:01 came in tired from the fields, their feet numb and their hands cracked and sore how they could do all the chores so conscientiously. Feed and water and bed the horses, milk the cows, and look after the pigs. When supper was over, it took them a long while to get the cold out of their bones. While grandmother and I washed the dishes and grandfather read his paper upstairs, Jake and I Otto sat on the long bench behind the stove, easing their inside boots or rubbing mutton tallow into their cracked hands. Every Saturday night we popped corn or made taffy, and Otto Fuchs used to sing, for I am a cowboy and know I've done wrong, or, bury me not on the lone prairie. He had a good baritone voice and always led the singing when we went to church services at the

Starting point is 01:35:49 Saad Schoolhouse. I can still see those two men sitting. on the bench, Otto's close-clipped head and Jake's shaggy hair slicked flat in front by a wet comb. I can see the sag of their tired shoulders against the whitewashed wall. What good fellows they were, how much they knew, and how many things they had kept faith with. Fuchs had been a cowboy, a stage driver, a bartender, a miner, had wandered all over that great western country and done hard work everywhere. Though, as grandmother said, he had none. nothing to show for it. Jake was duller than Otto. He could scarcely read, wrote even his name with difficulty, and he had a violent temper which sometimes made him behave like a crazy man,

Starting point is 01:36:36 tore him all to pieces and actually made him ill. But he was so soft-hearted that anyone could impose upon him. If he, as he said, forgot himself and swore before grandmother, he went about depressed and shamefaced all day. They were both of them jovial about the cold and winter and the heat in summer, and always ready to work overtime and to meet emergencies. It was a matter of pride with them not to spare themselves. Yet they were the sort of men who never get on somehow, or do anything but work hard for a dollar or two a day. On those bitter starlit nights, as we sat around the old stove that fed us and warmed us

Starting point is 01:37:15 and kept us cheerful, we could hear the coyotes howling down by the corrals, and their hungry, wintry cry used to remind the boys of wonderful animal stories. about gray wolves and bears in the Rockies, wild cats and panthers in the Virginia mountains. Sometimes Fuchs could be persuaded to talk about the outlaws and desperate characters he had known. I remember one funny story about himself that made Grandmother, who was working her bread on the breadboard,

Starting point is 01:37:42 laugh until she wiped her eyes with her bare arm, her hands being flowery. It was like this. When Otto left Austria to come to America, he was asked by one of his relatives to look after woman who was crossing on the same boat to join her husband in Chicago. The woman started off with two children, but it was clear that her family might grow larger on the journey. Fuchs said he, got on fine with the kids, and liked the mother, though she played a sorry trick on him. In mid-ocean,

Starting point is 01:38:13 she proceeded to have not one baby, but three. This event made Fuchs the object of undeserved notoriety since he was traveling with her. The steerage stewardess was indignant, with him. The doctor regarded him with suspicion. The first cabin passengers, who made up a purse for the woman, took an embarrassing interest in Otto and often inquired of him about his charge. When the triplets were taken ashore at New York, he had, as he said, to carry some of them. The trip to Chicago was even worse than the ocean voyage. On the train it was very difficult to get milk for the babies and to keep their bottles clean. The mother did her best, but no woman, out of her natural resources could feed three babies. The husband in Chicago was working in a

Starting point is 01:38:58 furniture factory for modest wages, and when he met his family at the station, he was rather crushed by the size of it. He too seemed to consider Fuchs in some fashion to blame. I was sure glad, Otto concluded, that he didn't take his hard feelings out on that poor woman, but he had a sullen eye for me all right. Now, did you ever hear of a young feller's having such hard luck, Mrs. Burden? grandmother told him she was sure the lord had remembered these things to his credit and it helped him out of many a scrape when he didn't realize that he was being protected by providence end of chapter nine my antonia by willa cather book one the shimardas chapter ten for several weeks after my sleigh ride we heard nothing from the shimardas my sore throat kept me indoors and grandmother had a cold which made the housework heavy for her When Sunday came, she was glad to have a day of rest. One night at supper, Fuchs told us he had seen Mr. Shimerta out hunting.

Starting point is 01:40:00 He's made himself a rabbit-skin cap-chim and a rabbit-skin collar that he buttons on outside his coat. They ain't got but one overcoat among him over there, and they take turns wearing it. They seem awful scared of cold and sticking that hole in the bank like badgers. All but the crazy boy Jake put in. He never wears the coat. Cry-Eck says he's terrible strong and can stand anything. I guess rabbits must be getting scarce in this. locality. Ambrosch come along by the cornfield yesterday where I was at work. It showed me three

Starting point is 01:40:28 prairie dogs each shot. He asked me if they was good to eat. I spit and made a face and took on to scare him, but he just looked like he was smarter on me and put him back in his sack and walked off. Grandmother looked up an alarm and spoke to grandfather. Josiah, you don't suppose, cry like the poor creatures eat prairie dogs, do you? You better go over and see our neighbors tomorrow, Ameline, he replied gravely. Fuchs put in a cheerful word and said prairie dogs were clean beasts and ought to be good for food, but their family connections were against them. I asked what he meant, and he grinned and said they belonged to the rat family.

Starting point is 01:41:03 When I went downstairs in the morning, I found Grandmother and Jake packing a hamper basket in the kitchen. Now Jake, grandmother was saying, if you can find that old rooster that got his comb froze, just give his neck a twist and we'll take him along. There was no good reason why Mrs. Shemarita couldn't have gotten hands from her neighbors last fall and had a henhouse going by now. I reckon she was confused and didn't know where to begin. I've come strange to a new country myself,

Starting point is 01:41:28 but I never forgot hands are a good thing to have, no matter what you don't have. Just as you say, ma'am, said Jake, but I hate to think of cry out getting a leg of that old rooster. He tramped out through the long cellar and dropped the heavy door behind him. After breakfast, grandmother and Jake and I bundled ourselves up and climbed into the cold front wagon seat. As we approached the shimardos, we heard the frosty wind of the pump

Starting point is 01:41:52 and saw Antonia, her head tied up and her cotton dress blown about her, throwing all her weight on the pump handle as it went up and down. She heard a wagon look back over her shoulder, and, catching up her pail of water, started at a run for the hole in the bank. Jake held grandmother to the ground, saying he would bring the provisions after he had blanketed his horses. We went slowly up the icy path toward the door sunk in the draw sign. Blue puffs of smoke came from the stovepuck,

Starting point is 01:42:18 that stuck out through the grass and snow, but the wind whisked them roughly away. Mrs. Shimerta opened the door before we knocked and seized Grandmother's hand. She did not say, how do, as usual, but at once began to cry, talking very fast in her own language, pointing to her feet which were tied up in rags and looking about accusing me at everyone. The old man was sitting on his stump behind the stove, crouching over as if he were trying to hide from us. Yulka was on the floor at his feet, her kitten in her lap. She peeped out at me and smiled, but glancing up at her mother hid again. Antonia was washing pans and dishes in a dark corner.

Starting point is 01:42:54 The crazy boy lay under the only window, stretched out on a gunny sack stuffed with straw. As soon as we entered, he threw a grain sack over the crack at the bottom of the door. The air in the cave was stifling, and it was very dark, too. A lighted lantern hung over the stove threw out a feeble yellow glimmer. Mrs. Shemerta snatched up the covers of two barrels behind the door and made us look into them. in one there were some potatoes that had been frozen and were rotting and the other was a little pile of flour grandmother murmured something in embarrassment but the bohemian woman laughed scornfully a kind of whinny laugh and catching up an empty coffee-pot from the shelf shook it at us with a look positively vindictive grandmother went on talking in her polite virginia way not admitting their stark need or her own remissness until jake arrived with a hamper as if in direct answer to mrs shimerda's reproaches then the poor woman broke down down. She dropped on the floor beside her crazy son, hid her face on her knees, and sat crying bitterly.

Starting point is 01:43:53 Grandmother paid no heat to her, but called Antonia to come and help empty the basket. Tony left her corner reluctantly. I had never seen her crushed like this before. You not mind my poor Mamma, Mrs. Burden. She is so sad, she whispered, as she wiped her wet hands on her skirt and took the things grandmother handed her. The crazy boy, seeing the food, began to make soft gurgling noises and stroked his stomach. Jake came in again, this time with a sack of potatoes. Grandmother looked about in perplexity. Haven't you gotten any sort of cave or cellar outside Antonia? This is no place to keep vegetables. How did your potatoes get frozen? We get from Mr. Bushie at the post office what he throw out. We got no potatoes, Mrs. Burden. Tony admitted mournfully.

Starting point is 01:44:38 When Jake went out, Merrick crawled along the floor and stuffed up the door crack again. Then quietly as his shadow, Mr. Shimarta came out from behind the stove. He stood brushing his hand over his smooth gray hair as if he were trying to clear away a fog about his head. He was clean and neat as usual with his green neckcloth and his coral pin. He took grandmother's arm and led her behind the stove to the back of the room. In the rear wall was another little cave, a round hole, not much bigger than an oil barrel, scooped out in the black earth. When I got up on one of the stools and peered into it, I saw some quilts in a pile of straw. The old man held the lantern.

Starting point is 01:45:16 Yulka, you said in a low despairing voice. Yulka, my Antonia. Grandmother drew back. You mean they sleep in there, your girls? He bowed his head. Tony slipped under his arm. She's very cold on the floor, and this is warm like the badger hole. I like for sleep there, she insisted eagerly.

Starting point is 01:45:36 My mom, Manka, have nice bed with pillows from our own geese and bohemi. See, Jim? She pointed to the narrow bunk. which Crayac had built against the wall for himself before the Shemortas came. Grandmother sighed. Sure enough, where would you sleep, dear? I don't doubt you're warm there. You'll have a better house after a while, Antonia,

Starting point is 01:45:55 and then you will forget these hard times. Mr. Shemurda made grandmother sit down on the only chair and pointed his wife to a stool beside her. Standing before them with his hand on Antonia's shoulder, he talked in a low tone and his daughter translated. He wanted us to know that they were not beggars in the old country. He made good wages, and his family were respected there. He left Bohemia with more than a thousand dollars in savings after their passage money was paid.

Starting point is 01:46:21 He had, in some way, lost on exchange in New York, and the railway fare to Nebraska was more than they had expected. By the time they paid cry-up for the land and bought his horses in oxen and some old farm machinery, they had very little money left. He wished Grandmother to know, however, that he still had some money. If they could get through until spring came, they would be. buy a cow and chickens and plant a garden, and they would then do very well. Ambrosh and Antonia were both old enough to work in the fields, and they were willing to work, but the snow and the bitter weather had disheartened them all. Antonia explained that her father meant to build a new house for them in the spring. He and Ambrosch had already split the logs for it, but the logs were all

Starting point is 01:47:02 buried in the snow along the creek where they had been felled. While grandmother encouraged and gave them advice, I sat down on the floor with Yuka and let her show me her kitten. marrick slid cautiously toward us and began to exhibit his webbed fingers i knew he wanted to make his queer noises for me to bark like a dog or whinny like a horse but he did not dare in the presence of his elders maric was always trying to be agreeable poor fellow as if he had it on his mind then he must make up for his deficiencies mrs shemada grew more calm and reasonable before our visit was over and while antonia translated put in a word now and then on her own account the woman had a quick ear and caught up phrases whenever she had her she heard English spoken. As we rose to go, she opened her wooden chest and brought out a bag made of bed-ticking, about as long as a flour sack and half is wide. Stuffed full of something. At sight of it, the crazy boy began to smack his lips. When Mrs. Shemarada opened the bag and stirred the contents with her hand, it gave out a salty, earthy smell, very pungent, even among the other odors of that cave.

Starting point is 01:48:06 She measured a teacupful, tied it up in a bit of sacking, and presented it ceremoniously to grandmother. for cook she announced little now be very much when cook spreading out her hands as if to indicate that the pint would swell to a gallon very good you no have in this country all things for eat better in my country maybe so mrs shimerda grandmother said dryly i can't say but i prefer our bread to yours myself antonia undertook to explain this very good mrs burdon she clasped her hands as if she could not express how good It makes very much when you cook. Like what my mama say. Cook with rabbit, cook with chicken, and the gravy. Oh, so good. All the way home, Grandmother and Jake talked about

Starting point is 01:48:49 how easily good Christian people could forget they were their brothers' keepers. I will say, Jake, some of our brothers and sisters are hard to keep. Where is the body to begin with these people? They're wanting in everything, and most of all, in horse sense. Nobody can give them that, I guess. Jimmy here is about as able to take over a homestead as they are. do you reckon that boy ambrosch has any real push in him he's a worker all right ma'am and he's got some catch on about him but he's a mean one folks can be mean enough to get on in this world and then again they can be too mean

Starting point is 01:49:23 that night while grandmother was getting supper we opened the package mrs shemarta had given her it was full of little brown chips that looked like the shavings of some root there was light as feathers and the most noticeable thing about them was their penetrating earthy odor we could not determine whether they were animal or vegetable they might be dried meat from some queer beast jim they ain't dried fish and they never grew on stock or vine i'm afraid of him anyhow i shouldn't want to eat anything that had been shut up for months with old clothes and goose pillows She threw the package into the stove, but I bit off a corner of one of the chips I held in my hand and chewed it tentatively. I never forgot the strange taste, though it was many years before I knew that those little brown shavings which the shimerda's had brought so far and treasured so jealously were dried mushrooms. They had been gathered, probably in some deep bohemian forest. That was Section 2, Chapter 10 of My Antonia by Willa Cather. Willa Cather. Book 1, the Shemurda's Chapter 11. During the week before Christmas, Jake was the most important person of our household, for he was to go to town and do all our Christmas shopping.

Starting point is 01:50:41 But on the 21st of December the snow began to fall. The flakes came down so thickly that from the sitting-room windows, I could not see beyond the windmill. Its frame looked dim and gray, unsubstantial like a shadow. The snow did not stop falling all day, or during the night that followed. The cold was not severe, but the storm was quiet and resistless. The men could not go farther than the barns and corral. They sought about the house most of the day, as if it were Sunday, greasing their boots, mending their suspenders, plating whiplashes.

Starting point is 01:51:20 On the morning of the 22nd, Grandfather announced at breakfast, that it would be impossible to go to Blackhawk for Christmas purchases. Jake was sure he could get through one horseback and bring home our things in saddlebags, but grandfather told him the roads would be obliterated, and a newcomer in the country would be lost ten times over. Anyway, he would never allow one of his horses to be put to such a strain. We decided to have a country Christmas without any help from town.

Starting point is 01:51:49 I had wanted to get some picture books for Yulka and Antonia, even Yulka was able to read a little now. Grandmother took me into the ice-cold store-room where she had some bolts of gingham and sheeting. She cut squares of cotton cloth, and we sewed them together into a book. We bound it between pasteboards, which I covered with brilliant calico,

Starting point is 01:52:11 representing scenes from a circus. For two days I sat at the dining-room table pasting this book full of pictures for Yulka. We had files of those good old family magazines, which used to publish colored lithographs of popular paintings, and I was allowed to use some of these. I took Napoleon announcing the divorce to Josephine for my frontispiece. On the white pages I grouped Sunday school cards and advertising cards,

Starting point is 01:52:38 which I had brought from my old country. Fuchs got out the old candle molds and made tallow candles. Grandmother hunted up her fancy cake cutters and baked gingerbread men and roosters, which we decorated with burnt sugar and red cinnamon drops. On the day before Christmas, Jake packed the things we were sending to the shimerdas in his saddlebags and set off on grandfather's grey gelding.

Starting point is 01:53:04 When he mounted his horse at the door, I saw that he had a hatchet slung to his belt, and he gave grandmother a meaning look, which told me he was planning a surprise for me. That afternoon I watched long and eagerly from the sitting-room window. At last I saw a dark spot moving on the West Hill beside the half-buried cornfield where the sky was taking on a coppery flush

Starting point is 01:53:27 from the sun that did not quite break through. I put on my cap and ran out to meet Jake. When I got to the pond, I could see that he was bringing in a little cedar tree across his pommel. He used to help my father cut Christmas trees for me in Virginia, and he had not forgotten how much I liked them. By the time we had placed the cold, fresh-smelling little tree in a corner of the sitting-room,

Starting point is 01:53:52 it was already Christmas Eve. After supper we all gathered there, and even grandfather, reading his paper by the table, looked up with friendly interest now and then. The cedar was about five feet high and very shapely. We hung it with gingerbread animals, strings of popcorn, and bits of candle which Fuchs had fitted into pasteboard sockets. Its real splendors, however, came from the same thing. the most unlikely place in the world, from Otto's cowboy trunk. I had never seen anything in that

Starting point is 01:54:24 trunk but old boots and spurs and pistols, and a fascinating mixture of yellow leather tongs, cartridges, and shoemaker's wax. From under the lining, he now produced a collection of brilliantly colored paper figures, several inches high, and stiff enough to stand alone. They had been sent to him year after year by his old mother in Austria. There was a bleeding heart in tufts of paper lace. There were three kings gorgeously appareled, and the ox and the ass and the shepherds. There was the baby in the manger,

Starting point is 01:54:57 and a group of angels singing. There were camels and leopards held back by the black slaves of the three kings. Our tree became the talking tree of the fairy tale, legends and stories nestled like birds in its branches. Grandmother said it reminded her of the tree of knowledge. We put sheets of cotton wool under it for a snow field, and Jake's pocket mirror for a frozen lake.

Starting point is 01:55:22 I can see them now, exactly as they looked, working about the table in the lamplight. Jake, with his heavy feature so rudely molded that his face seemed somehow unfinished. Otto with his half ear and the savage scar that made his upper lip curl so ferociously under his twisted must. ash. As I remember them, what unprotected faces they were, their very roughness and violence made them defenseless. These boys had no practiced manner behind which they could retreat and hold

Starting point is 01:55:54 people at a distance. They had only their hard fists to batter at the world with. Otto was already one of those drifting, case-hardened laborers, who never marry or have children of their own, yet he was so fond of children. End of Book 1, the Shemerdas, Chapter 11 My Antonia by Willa Cather. Book 1, the Shemerdas, Chapter 12. On Christmas morning, when I got down to the kitchen, the men were just coming in from their chores.

Starting point is 01:56:29 The horses and pigs always had their breakfast before we did. Jake and Otto shouted, Merry Christmas to me, and winked at each other when they saw the waffle irons on the stove. Grandfather came down, wearing a white shirt, and his Sunday coat. Morning prayers were longer than usual. He read the chapters from St. Matthew about the birth of Christ,

Starting point is 01:56:51 and as we listened, it all seemed like something that had happened lately and near at hand. In his prayer he thanked the Lord for the first Christmas, and for all that it had meant to the world ever since. He gave thanks for our food and comfort, and prayed for the poor and destitute in great cities, where the struggle for life was harder than it was. was here with us. Grandfather's prayers were often very interesting. He had the gift of simple and moving expression. Because he talked so little, his words had a peculiar force. They were

Starting point is 01:57:26 not worn dull from constant use. His prayers reflected what he was thinking about at the time, and it was chiefly through them that we got to know his feelings and his views about things. After we sat down to our waffles and sausage, Jake told us how pleased we were pleased the Shemerdas had been with their presence. Even Ambrosh was friendly, and went to the creek with him to cut the Christmas tree. It was a soft gray day outside, with heavy clouds working across the sky, and occasional squalls of snow. There were always odd jobs to be done about the barn on holidays, and the men were busy until afternoon. Then Jake and I played dominoes, while Otto wrote a long letter home to his mother. He always wrote to her on Christmas

Starting point is 01:58:10 day, he said, no matter where he was, and no matter how long it had been since his last letter. All afternoon he sat in the dining-room. He would write for a while, then sit idle, his clenched fist, lying on the table, his eyes following the pattern of the oil-cloth. He spoke and wrote his own language so seldom that it came to him awkwardly. His effort to remember entirely absorbed him. At about four o'clock a visitor appeared. Mr. Sherman, Shemurda wearing his rabbit-skin cap and collar, and new mittens his wife had knitted. He had come to thank us for the presence, and for all grandmother's kindness to his family. Jake and Otto joined us from the basement, and we sat about the stove,

Starting point is 01:58:55 enjoying the deepening gray of the winter afternoon, and the atmosphere of comfort and security in my grandfather's house. This feeling seemed completely to take possession of Mr. Shemurda. I suppose, in the crowded clutter of their country, cave, the old man had come to believe that peace and order had vanished from the earth, or existed only in the old world he had left so far behind. He sat still and a passive, his head resting against the back of the wooden rocking-chair, his hands relaxed upon the arms. His face had a look of weariness and pleasure, like that of sick people, when they feel relief from pain. Grandmother

Starting point is 01:59:38 insisted on his drinking a glass of Virginia apple brandy after his long walk. in the cold, and when a faint flush came up in his cheeks, his features might have been cut out of a shell. They were so transparent. He said almost nothing and smiled rarely, but as he rested there we all had a sense of his utter content. As it grew dark, I asked whether I might light the Christmas tree before the lamp was brought. When the candle ends sent up their conical yellow flames, all the colored figures from Austria,

Starting point is 02:00:11 stood out clear and full of meaning against the green boughs. Mr. Shemurda rose, crossed himself, and quietly knelt down before the tree, his head sunk forward. His long body formed a letter S. I saw grandmother look apprehensively at grandfather. He was rather narrow in religious matters, and sometimes spoke out and hurt people's feelings. There had been nothing strange about the tree before, but now with someone kneeling before it, images, candles. Grandfather merely put his fingertips to his brow,

Starting point is 02:00:47 and bowed his venerable head, thus protestantizing the atmosphere. We persuaded our guest to stay for supper with us. He needed a little urging. As we sat down to the table it occurred to me that he liked to look at us, and that our faces were open books to him. When his deep seeing eyes rested on me, I felt as if he were looking far ahead into the future for me, down the road I would have to travel.

Starting point is 02:01:13 At nine o'clock Mr. Shimerd alighted one of our lanterns and put on his overcoat and fur collar. He stood in the little entry hall, the lantern and his fur cap under his arm, shaking hands with us. When he took grandmother's hand, he bent over it as he always did and said slowly, Good woman. He made the sign of the cross over me,

Starting point is 02:01:36 put on his cap, and went off in the dark. As we turned back to the sitting-room, Grandfather looked at me searchingly. The prayers of all good people are good, he said quietly. End of Book 1, the Shemurda's Chapter 12. My Antonia by Willa Cather, Book 1, the Shemerdas, Chapter 13. The week following Christmas brought in a thaw, and by New Year's Day all the world about us was a broth of grey slush,

Starting point is 02:02:07 and the guttered slope between the windmill and the barn was running black water. The soft black earth stood out in patches along the road sides. I resumed all my chores, carried in the cobs and wood and water, and spent the afternoons at the barn, watching Jake shell corn with a hand-sheller. One morning during this interval of fine weather, Antonia and her mother rode over on one of their shaggy old horses to pay us a visit. It was the first time Mrs. Shemurda had been to our house, and she ran about, examining our carpets and curtains and furniture,

Starting point is 02:02:40 all the while commenting upon them to her daughter in an envious complaining tone. In the kitchen, she caught up an iron pot that stood on the back of the stove and said, You got many, Shemurda's no got. I thought it weak-minded of grandmother to give the pot to her. After dinner, when she was helping to wash the dishes, she said, tossing her head, You got many things for cook. If I got all things like you, I make much better. She was a conceited, boastful old thing, and even misfortune could not have.

Starting point is 02:03:10 humble her. I was so annoyed that I felt coldly even toward Antonia, and listened unsympathetically when she told me her father was not well. My papa sad for the old country. He not looked good. He never make music anymore. At home he play violin all the time, for weddings and for dance. Here, never. When I beg him for play, he shake his head no. Some days he take his violin out of his box and make with his fingers on the strings like this. But never he make the music. He don't like this country. People who don't like this country ought to stay home, I said severely. We don't make them come here. He not want to come. Never, she burst out. My momentca made him come. All the time she say, America big country, much money, much land for my boys, much husband for

Starting point is 02:04:02 my girls. My papa, he cry for leave his old friends what make music with him. He loved very much the man what play the longhorn, like this. She indicated a slide trombone. They go to school together and our friends from boys. But my mama, she want Ambrosch for be rich with many cattle. Your mama, I said angrily, wants other people's things. Your grandfather is rich, she retorted fiercely. Why he not help my papa?

Starting point is 02:04:31 Ambrosch be rich too after a while, and he pay back. He is a very smart boy. For Ambrosch, my mama come here. Ambrosch was considered the important person in the family. Mrs. Shemurda and Antonia always deferred to him, though he was often surly with them and contemptuous toward his father. Ambrosch and his mother had everything their own way. Though Antonia loved her father more than she did anyone else,

Starting point is 02:04:55 she stood in awe of her elder brother. After I watched Antonia and her mother go over the hill on their miserable horse, carrying our iron pot with them, I turned to grandmother, who had taken up her darning, and said, I hope that snooping old woman wouldn't come to see us anymore. Grandmother chuckled and drove her bright needle across a hole in Otto's sock. She's not old, Jim, though I expect she seems old to you. No, I wouldn't warn if she never came again.

Starting point is 02:05:25 But you see, a body never knows what traits poverty might bring out in them. It makes a woman grasping to see her children want for things. Now read me a chapter in the Prince of the House of David. Let's forget the Bohemians. We had three weeks of this mild open weather. The cattle in the corral ate corn almost as fast as the men could shell it for them, and we hoped they would be ready for an early market. One morning the two big bulls, Gladstone, and Brigham Young,

Starting point is 02:05:54 thought spring had come, and they began to tease and butted each other across the barbed wire that separated them. Soon they got angry. They bellowed and pawed up the soft earth with their hoofs, rolling their eyes and tossing their heads, Each withdrew to a far corner of his own corral, and then they made for each other at a gallop. Thud, thud, we could hear the impact of their great heads,

Starting point is 02:06:17 and their bellowing, shook the pans on the kitchen shelves. Had they not been dehorned, they would have torn each other to pieces. Pretty soon the fat steers took it up and began budding and horning each other. Clearly the affair had to be stopped. We all stood by and watched admiringly, as Fuchs rode into the corral with the pitchforks, and prodded the bulls again and again, finally driving them apart. The big storm of the winter began on my 11th birthday, the 20th of January.

Starting point is 02:06:48 When I went down to breakfast that morning, Jake and Otto came in white as snowmen, beating their hands and stamping their feet. They began to laugh boisterously when they saw me calling, You've got a birthday present this time, Jim, and no mistake. They was a full-grown blizzard ordered for you. All day the storm went on. The snow did not fall this time. It simply spilled out of heaven, like thousands of feather beds being emptied.

Starting point is 02:07:15 The afternoon kitchen was a carpenter shop. The men brought in their tools and made two great wooden shovels with long handles. Neither grandmother nor I could go out in the storm, so Jake fed the chickens and brought in a pitiful contribution of eggs. Next day our men had to shovel until noon to reach the barn, and the snow was still falling. There had not been such a storm in the ten years my grandfather had lived in Nebraska. He said at dinner that we would not try to reach the cattle. They were fat enough to go without their corn for a day or two. But tomorrow we must feed them and thaw out their water tap so they could drink.

Starting point is 02:07:52 We could not so much as see the corrals, but we knew the steers were over there, huddled together under the north bank. Our ferocious bulls, subdued enough by this time, were probably warming each other's backs. "'This'll take the bile out of them,' Fuchs remarked gleefully. "'At noon that day the hens had not been heard from. "'After dinner, Jake and Otto, their damp clothes now dried on them, "'stretched their stiff arms and plunged again into the drifts.

Starting point is 02:08:20 "'They made a tunnel under the snow to the henhouse "'with walls so solid that grandmother and I could walk back and forth in it. "'We found the chickens asleep. "'Perhaps they thought night had come to stay. "'One old rooster was stirring about, pecking at the solid lump of ice in their water-tin. When we flashed the lantern in their eyes, the hens set up a great cackling and flew about clumsily,

Starting point is 02:08:42 scattering down feathers. The mottled, pin-headed guinea hens, always resentful of captivity, ran screeching out into the tunnel and poked their ugly painted faces through the snow walls. By five o'clock the chores were done, just when it was time to begin them all over again. That was a strange, unnatural sort of day.

Starting point is 02:09:02 End of Chapter 13 My Antonia by Willa Kather Book 1, Chapter 14 The Shemerdas On the morning of the 22nd, I wakened with a start. Before I opened my eyes, I seemed to know that something had happened.

Starting point is 02:09:23 I heard excited voices in the kitchen. Grandmothers was so shrill that I knew she must be almost beside herself. I looked forward to any new crisis with delight. what could it be, I wondered, as I hurried into my clothes. Perhaps the barn had burned. Perhaps the cattle had frozen to death. Perhaps a neighbor was lost in the storm.

Starting point is 02:09:43 Down in the kitchen, grandfather was standing before the stove with his hands behind him. Jake and Otto had taken off their boots and were rubbing their woolen socks. Their clothes and boots were steaming, and they both looked exhausted. On the bench behind the stove lay a man, covered up with a blanket. Grandmother motioned me to the dining room. I obeyed reluctantly. I watched as she came in, went, carrying dishes. Her lips were tightly compressed, and she kept whispering to herself, O dear Savior, Lord thou knowest. Presently, Grandfather came in and spoke to me. Jimmy, we will not have prayers this morning

Starting point is 02:10:21 because we have a great deal to do. Old Mr. Shemurda is dead, and his family are in great distress. Ambrosch came over here in the middle of the night, and Jake and Otto went back with him. The boys have had a hard night, and you must not bother them with questions. That is Ambrosch's asleep on the bench. Come in to breakfast, boys. After Jake and Otto had swallowed their first cup of coffee, they began to talk excitedly, disregarding Grandmother's warning glances. I held my tongue, but I listened with all my ears.

Starting point is 02:10:55 No, sir, Fook said and answered to a question from grandfather. Nobody heard the gun go off. Ambrosch was out with the oxen team trying to break a road and the women folks was shut up tight in their cave When Ambrosch came in It was dark and he didn't see nothing But the oxen acted kind of queer One of them ripped around and got away from him

Starting point is 02:11:16 Bolted clean out of the stable His hands is blistered where the rope run through He got a lantern and went back and found the old man Just as we seen him Poor soul, poor soul grandmother groaned. I'd like to think he never done it. He was always considerate and unwishful to give trouble. How could he forget himself and bring this on us? I don't think he was out of his head for a minute, Mrs. Burden, folks declared. He'd done everything natural. You know he was always sort of

Starting point is 02:11:47 fixy, and fixy he was to the last. He shaved after dinner and washed himself all over after the girls was done the dishes. Antonia heated the water for him. Then he put on a clean shirt and clean socks, and after he was dressed, he kissed her and the little one, and took his gun and said he was going out to hunt rabbits. He must have gone right down to the barn and done it then. He laid down on that bunk bed, close to the ox stalls, where he always slept. When we found him, everything was decent except— folks wrinkled his brow and hesitated.

Starting point is 02:12:24 Except what he couldn't know-wise foresee. His coat was hung on a peg, and his boots was under the bed. He took off that silk neckcloth he always wore, and folded it smooth and stuck his pin through it. He turned back his shirt at the neck and rolled up his sleeves. I don't see how he could do it, Grandmother kept saying. Otto misunderstood her. Why, ma'am, it was simple enough.

Starting point is 02:12:50 He pulled the trigger with his big toe. He laid over on his side and put the end of the barrel in his mouth. Then he drew up one foot and felt for the trigger. He found it all right. Maybe he did, said Jake grimply. There's something mighty queer about it. Now what do you mean, Jake? Grandmother, asked sharply. Well, ma'am, I found Kraychit's axe under the manger,

Starting point is 02:13:14 and I picks it up and carries it over to the corpse, and I take my oaths. It just fit the gash in the front of the old man's face. That there Kraychik had been sneaking around, pale and quiet, and when he's seen me examining the axe, he'd begun whimpering. My God, man, don't do that. I reckon I'm going to look into this, says I. Then he begun to squeal like a rat and wrung around wringing his hands. They'll hang me, says he. My God, they'll hang me sure. Folks spoke up impatiently. Krayjick's gone silly, Jake, and so of you.

Starting point is 02:13:45 The old man wouldn't have made all them preparations for Krayjik to murder him, would he? It don't hang together. The gun was right beside him when Ambrose found him. Craigrick could have put it there, couldn't he? Jake demanded. Grandmother broke in excitedly. See here, Jake Marpole, don't you go trying to add murder to suicide. We're deep enough in trouble. Otto reads you too many of them detective stories. It will be easy to side all that, Emmeline said Grandfather quietly.

Starting point is 02:14:14 If he shot himself in the way they think, the gash will be torn from the inside outward. Just so it is, Mr. Burden, Otto affirmed. I seen bunches of hair and stuff sticking to the poles and straw along the roof. They was blown up there by gunshot, no question. Grandmother told Grandfather she meant to go over to the shimmer dust with him. There is nothing you can do, he said doubtfully.

Starting point is 02:14:39 The body can't be touched until we get the coroner here from Black Hawk, and that will be a matter of several days this weather. Well, I can take them some victuals anyway and say a word of comfort to them, poor little girls. The oldest one was his daughter. darling, and was like a right hand to him. He might have thought of her he's left her alone in a hard world. She glanced distrustfully at Ambrosch, who was now eating his breakfast at the kitchen table. Folks, although he had been up in the cold nearly all night, was going to make the long ride

Starting point is 02:15:11 to Blackhawk to fetch the priest and the coroner. On the grey gelding, our best horse, he would try to pick his way across the country, with no roads to guide him. Don't you worry about me, Mrs. Burden, he said cheerfully, as he put on a second pair of socks. I've got a good nose for directions, and I never did need much sleep. It's the gray I'm worried about. I'll save him what I can, but it'll strain him, as sure as I'm telling you. This is no time to be over-considerate of animals, Otto. Do the best you can for yourself.

Starting point is 02:15:42 Stop at the widow Stevens for dinner. She's a good woman, and she'll do well by you. After Fuchs rode away, I was left with Ambrosch. I saw a sight of him I had not. seen before. He was deeply, even slavishly devout. He did not say a word all morning, but sat with his rosary in his hands, praying, now silently, now aloud. He never looked away from his beads, nor lifted his hands except to cross himself. Several times the poor boy fell asleep where he sat, wakened with a start, and began to pray again. No wagon could be got to the shimerdises

Starting point is 02:16:20 until a road was broken, and that would be a day's job. Grandfather came from the barn on one of our big black horses, and Jake lifted grandmother up behind him. She wore her black hood and was bundled up in shawls. Grandfather tucked his bushy white beard inside his overcoat. They looked very biblical as they set off, I thought. Jake and Ambrosch followed them, riding the other black and my pony, carrying bundles of clothes that we had got together for Mrs. Shemurda,

Starting point is 02:16:50 I watched them go past the pond and over the hill by the drifted cornfield. Then for the first time, I realized that I was alone in the house. I felt a considerable extension of power and authority, and was anxious to acquit myself creditably. I carried in cobs and wood from the long cellar and filled both the stoves. I remembered that in the hurry and excitement of the morning, nobody had thought of the chickens, and the eggs had not been gathered.

Starting point is 02:17:22 Going out through the tunnel, I gave the hens their corn, emptied the ice from their drinking pan, and filled it with water. After the cat had had his milk, I could think of nothing else to do, and I sat down to get warm. The quiet was delightful, and the ticking clock was the most pleasant of companions. I got Robinson Crusoe and tried to read, but his life on the island seemed dull compared with ours. presently as I looked with satisfaction about our comfortable sitting-room.

Starting point is 02:17:51 It flashed upon me that if Mr. Shemurda's soul were lingering about in this world at all, it would be here in our house, which had been more to his liking than any other in the neighborhood. I remembered his contented face when he was with us on Christmas Day. If he could have lived with us, this terrible thing would never have happened. I knew it was homesickness that had killed Mr. Shemurda, and I wondered whether his release. spirit would not eventually find its way back to his own country. I thought of how far it was to Chicago, and then to Virginia, to Baltimore, and then the great wintry ocean. No, he would not at once set out

Starting point is 02:18:33 upon that long journey. Surely his exhausted spirit, so tired of cold and crowding, and the struggle with the ever-falling snow, was resting now in this quiet house. I was not frightened, but I made no noise. I did not wish to disturb him. I went softly down to the kitchen, which tucked away so snugly underground, always seemed to me the heart and center of the house. There on the bench, behind the stove, I thought and thought about Mr. Shemurda. Outside, I could hear the wind singing over hundreds of miles of snow. It was as if I had let the old man in out of the tormenting winter, and were sitting there with him. I went over all that Antonia had ever told me about his life before he came to this country, how he used to play the fiddle

Starting point is 02:19:23 at weddings and dances. I thought about the friends he had mourned to leave, the trombone player, the great forest full of game, belonging, as Antonia said, to the nobles, from which she and her mother used to steal wood on moonlight nights. There was a white heart that lived in that forest, and if anyone killed it, he would be hanged, she said. Such vivid picture. came to me that they might have been Mr. Shemurda's memories, not yet faded out from the air in which they had haunted him. It had begun to grow dark when my household returned, and grandmother was so tired that she went at once to bed. Jake and I got supper, and while we were washing the dishes, he told me in loud whispers about the state of things, but the Shemerdas, nobody could touch the

Starting point is 02:20:12 body until the coroner came. If anyone did, something terrible would happen apparently. The dead man was frozen through. Just as stiff as a dressed turkey you hang out to freeze, Jake said. The horses and oxen would not go into the barn until he was frozen so hard that there was no longer any smell of blood. They were stabled there now with the dead man because there was no other place to keep them. A lighted lantern was kept hanging over Mr. Shemurda's head.

Starting point is 02:20:41 Antonia and Ambrosch and the mother took turns going down to pray beside him. The crazy boy went with them, because he did not feel the cold. I believed he felt cold as much as anyone else, but he liked to be thought insensible to it. He was always coveting distinction, poor Maric. Ambrosch, Jake said, showed more human feeling than he would have supposed him capable of,

Starting point is 02:21:06 but he was chiefly concerned about getting a priest and about his father's soul, which he believed was in a place of torment, and would remain there until his family and the priest had prayed a great deal for him. As I understand it, Jake concluded, it will be a matter of years to pray his soul out of purgatory, and right now he's in torment. I don't believe it, I said stoutly.

Starting point is 02:21:28 I almost know it ain't true. I did not, of course, say that I believed he had been in that very kitchen all afternoon, on his way back to his own country. Nevertheless, after I went to bed, this idea of punishment in purgatory came back on me crushingly. I remembered the account of dives and torment and shuddered. But Mr. Shemurda had not been rich and selfish. He had only been so unhappy that he could not live any longer. End of Chapter 14.

Starting point is 02:22:02 My Antonia by Willa Cather. Book 1, the Shemurda's Chapter 15. Otto Fuchs got back from Black Hawk at noon the next day. He reported that the coroner would read. the Shmurda some time that afternoon, but the missionary priest was at the other end of his parish, a hundred miles away, and the trains were not running. Fuchs had got a few hours sleep at the livery barn in town, but he was afraid the gray gilding had strained himself. Indeed, he was never the same horse afterward. That long trip through the deep snow had taken all the endurance out of him.

Starting point is 02:22:39 Fuchs brought home with him a stranger, a young bohemian who had taken a homestead near Blackhawk, and who came on his only horse to help his fellow countrymen in their trouble. That was the first time I ever saw Anton Delinek. He was a strapping young fellow in the early twenties then, handsome, warm-hearted, and full of life, and he came to us like a miracle in the midst of that grim business. I remember exactly how he strode into our kitchen in his felt boots and long wolfskin coat, his eyes and cheeks bright with a cold.

Starting point is 02:23:10 At sight of grandmother, he snatched off his fur cap, greeting her in a deep, rolling voice which seemed older than he. I want to thank you very much, Mrs. Burden, for that you are so kind to poor strangers from my country. He did not hesitate like a farmer boy, but looked one eagerly in the eye when he spoke. Everything about him was warm and spontaneous. He said he would have come to see the shimerda's before,

Starting point is 02:23:36 but he had hired out to husk corn all the fall, and since winter began he had been going to the school by the mill, to learn English along with the little children. He told me he had a nice lady teacher and that he liked to go to school. At dinner, grandfather talked to Jelinek more than he usually did to strangers. Will they be much disappointed

Starting point is 02:23:55 because we cannot get a priest? He asked. Jelinek looked serious. Yes, sir, that is very bad for them. Their father has done a great sin. He looks straight at grandfather. Our lord has said that. Grandfather seemed to like his frankness.

Starting point is 02:24:12 We believe that too, Jelanek, but we believe that Mr. Shemerta's soul will come to its creator as well off without a priest. We believe that Christ is our only intercessor. The young man shook his head. I know how you think. My teacher at the school has explained, but I have seen too much. I believe in prayer for the dead. I have seen too much. We asked him what he meant.

Starting point is 02:24:38 He glanced around the table. You want, I shall tell you? When I was a little boy like this one, I began to help the priest at the altar. I made my first communion very young. What the church teach seemed plain to me. By and by war times come when the Austrians fight us. We have very many soldiers encamp near my village, and the cholera break out in that camp, and the men die like flies.

Starting point is 02:25:03 All day long our priests go about there to give the sacrament to dying men, and I go with him to carry the vessels with the Holy Sacrament. Everybody that go near that camp catch the sickness, but me and the priest. But we have no sickness, we have no fear, because we carry that blood and that body of Christ, and it preserve us. He paused, looking at grandfather, that I know, Mr. Burden, for it happened to myself. All the soldiers know, too. When we walk along the road, the old priest and me, we meet all the time soldiers marching

Starting point is 02:25:39 in officers on horse. All those officers, when they see what I carry under the cloth, I pull up their horses and kneel down on the ground in the road until we pass. So I feel very bad for my country man to die without the sacrament and to die in a bad way for his soul, and I feel sad for his family. We had listened attentively. It was impossible not to admire his frank, manly faith. I'm always glad to meet a young man who thinks seriously about these things,

Starting point is 02:26:09 said grandfather, and I would never be the one to say you were not in God's care when you were among the soldiers. After dinner, it was the sight of that young Jelinek should hook our two strong black farm horses to the scraper and break a road through to the Shemurda's so that a wagon could go when it was necessary. Fuchs, who was the only cabinet maker in the neighborhood, was set to work on a coffin. Chelanek put on his long wolfskin coat, and when we admired it, he told us that he had shot and skin the coyotes, and the young man who batched with him, Jan Busca, had been a fur worker in Vienna made the coat. From the windmill, I watched Jelinek come out of the barn with the blacks, and work his way up the hillside toward the cornfield. Sometimes he was completely hidden by the clouds of snow that

Starting point is 02:26:53 rose about him. Then he and the horse would emerge black and shining. Our heavy carpenter's bench had to be brought from the barn and carried down into the kitchen. Fuchs selected boards from a pile of planks grandfather had hauled out from town in the fall to make a new floor for the oats bin. When at last the lumber and tools were assembled, and the doors were closed again and the cold drafts shut out, grandfather rode away to meet the coroner at the Shemerdas, and Fuchs took out his coat and settled down to work. I sat on his work table and watched him. He did not touch his tools at first, but figured for a long while on a piece of paper, and measured the planks and made marks on them. While he was thus engaged, he whistled softly to himself, or teasingly pulled at his

Starting point is 02:27:38 half ear. Grandmother moved about quietly, so as not to disturb him. At last he folded his ruler and turned a cheerful face to us. The hardest part of my job's done, he announced. It's the head end of it that comes hard with me, especially when I'm out of practice. Last time I made one of these, Mrs. Burton, he continued, as he sorted and tried his chisels, was for a fellow in the black tiger-monger. mine, up above Silverton, Colorado. The mouth of that mine goes right into the face of the cliff, and they used to put us in a bucket and run us over on a trolley and shoot us into the shaft. The bucket traveled across a box canyon 300 feet deep and about a third full water. Two Swedes that fell out of that bucket once and hid the water, feet down. If you'll believe it, they went

Starting point is 02:28:22 to work the next day. Can't kill a swede. But in my time, a little Italian tried the high dive, and it turned out different with them. We was snowed in then. like we are now, and I happen to be the only man in camp that could make a coffin for him. It's a handy thing to know when you knock about like I've done. We'd be hard put to it now, if you didn't know, Otto, grandmother said. Yes, them, Fuchs admitted with modest pride. So few folks does know how to make a good tight box that'll turn water. I sometimes wonder if there'll be anybody about to do it for me.

Starting point is 02:28:54 However, I'm not at all particular that way. All afternoon, wherever one went in the house, one could hear the panting wheeze of the saw or the pleasant purring of the plain. They were such cheerful noises, seeming to promise new things for living people. It was a pity that those freshly plain pine boards were to be put underground so soon. The lumber was hard to work because it was full of frost, and the boards gave off a sweet smell of pine woods as the heap of yellow shavings grew higher and higher. I wonder why Fuchs had not stuck to cabinet work. He settled down to it with such ease and content. He handled the tools as if he liked to feel them, and when he planed, his hands went back and forth

Starting point is 02:29:35 over the boards in an eager, beneficent way, as if he were blessing them. He broke out now and then into German hymns, as if this occupation brought back old times to him. At four o'clock Mr. Bushy, the postmaster, with another neighbor who lived east of us, stopped in to get warm. They were on their way to the Shemerdas. The news of what had happened over there had somehow got abroad through the no block country. Grandmother gave the visitors sugar cakes and hot coffee. Before these colors were gone, the brother of the widow Stevens who lived on the Black Hawk Road, drew up at our door and after him came the father of the German family, our nearest neighbors, on the south. They dismounted and joined us in the dining room. They were all eager for any

Starting point is 02:30:19 details about the suicide and they were greatly concerned as to where Mr. Shemurda would be buried. The nearest Catholic cemetery was at Black Hawk, and it might be weeks before a wagon could get so far. Besides, Mr. Bushi and grandmother were sure that a man who had killed himself could not be buried in a Catholic graveyard. There was a burying ground over by the Norwegian church, west of Squaw Creek. Perhaps the Norwegians would take Mr. Shemurda in. After our visitors rode away in single file over the hill, we returned to the kitchen. Grandmother began to make the icing for a chocolate cake, and Otto again filled the house with the exciting expectant song of the plane. One pleasant thing about this was that everybody talked more than usual.

Starting point is 02:31:02 I had never heard the postmaster say anything but only papers today, or, I've got a sack full of mail for you, until this afternoon. Grandmother always talked, dear woman, to herself or to the Lord, if there was no one else to listen. But grandfather was naturally taciturn, and Jake and Otto were often so tired after supper that I used to feel as if I were surrounded by a wall of silence. Now everyone seemed eager to talk. That afternoon Fuchs told me story after story about the black tiger mine

Starting point is 02:31:31 and about violent deaths and casual burrings and the queer fancies of dying men. You never really knew a man, he said, until you saw him die. Most men were game and went without a grudge. The postmaster going home stopped to say that grandfather would bring the coroner back with him to spend the night.

Starting point is 02:31:48 The officers of the Norwegian church, he told us, had held a meeting and decided that the Norwegian graveyard could not extend its hospitality to Mr. Shemurda. Grandmother was indignant. If these foreigners are so clannish, Mr. Bushy, we'll have to have an American graveyard that will be more liberal-minded.

Starting point is 02:32:07 I'll get right after Josiah to start one in the spring. If anything was to happen to me, I don't want the Norwegians holding inquisitions over me to see whether I'm good enough to be laid amongst him. Soon, grandfather returned, bringing with him Anton Jelinek and that important person, the coroner. He was a mild, flurried old man,

Starting point is 02:32:25 a civil war veteran. with one sleeve hanging empty. He seemed to find this case very perplexing and said, if it had not been for grandfather, he would have sworn out a warrant against Kragic. The way he acted and the way his axe fit the wound was enough to convict any man. Although it was perfectly clear that Mr. Shemurda had killed himself, Jake and the coroner thought something ought to be done to Kragiak because he behaved like a guilty man. He was badly frightened, certainly, and perhaps he even felt some stirrings of remorse for his

Starting point is 02:32:55 indifference to the old man's misery and loneliness. At supper the man ate like Vikings, and the chocolate cake, which I had hoped would linger on until tomorrow in a mutilated condition, disappeared on the second round. They talked excitedly about where they should bury Mr. Shemurda. I gathered that the neighbors were all disturbed and shocked about something. It developed that Mrs. Shemurda and Ambrosch wanted the old man buried on the southwest corner of their own land, indeed under the very stake that marked the corner. Grandfather had explained to Ambrosch that someday, when the country was put under fence and the roads were confined to section lines, two roads would cross exactly on that corner. But Ambrosch only said, it makes no matter.

Starting point is 02:33:38 Grandfather asked Jelinek whether in the old country there was some superstition to the effect that a suicide must be buried at the crossroads. Jelinek said he didn't know. He seemed to remember hearing there had once been such a custom. in Bohemia. Mrs. Shimerda has made up her mind, he added. I try to persuade her and say it looks bad for her to all the neighbors, but she says so it must be. There I will bury him if I dig the grave myself, she say. I have to promise her I help Ambrosch make the grave tomorrow.

Starting point is 02:34:13 Grandfather smoothed his beard and looked judicial. I don't know whose wish should decide the matter, if not hers, but if she thinks she will live to see the people of this country right over that old man's head, she is mistaken. End of Chapter 15. Recording by Stephanie Dupal de Martin. My Antonia by Willa Cather Book 1, the Shemurda's Chapter 16.

Starting point is 02:34:41 Mr. Shemurda lay dead in the barn four days, and on the fifth they buried him. All day Friday, Jelinek was off with Ambrosh. digging the grave, chopping out the frozen earth with old axes. On Saturday we breakfasted before daylight and got into the wagon with the coffin. Jake and Jelinek went ahead on horseback to cut the body loose from the pool of blood in which it was frozen fast to the ground. When grandmother and I went to the Shemurda's house, we found the women folk alone. Ambrosch and Merak were at the barn.

Starting point is 02:35:14 Mrs. Shemurda sat crouching by the stove. Antonia was washing dishes. When she saw me, she ran out of her dark corner and threw her arms around me. Oh, Jimmy, she sobbed. What do you think for my lovely papa? It seemed to me that I could feel her heart-breaking as she clung to me. Mrs. Shemurda, sitting on the stump by the stove, kept looking over her shoulder toward the door while the neighbors were arriving. They came on horseback, all except the postmaster, who brought his family in a wagon over the only broken wagon trail. The widow Stevens rode up from her farm eight miles down the Black Hawk Road. The cold drove the women into the cavehouse, and it was soon crowded.

Starting point is 02:35:57 A fine, sleety snow was beginning to fall, and everyone was afraid of another storm and anxious to have the burial over with. Grandfather in Jelinek came to tell Mrs. Shemurda that it was time to start. After bundling her mother up in clothes the neighbors had brought, Antonia put on an old cape from our house, and the rabbit skin that our father had made for her. Four men carried Mr. Shemurda's box up the hill. Kragiak slung along behind them. The coffin was too wide for the door, so it was put down on the slope outside.

Starting point is 02:36:30 I slipped out from the cave and looked at Mr. Shemurda. He was lying on his side, with his knees drawn up. His body was draped in a black shawl, and his head was bandaged and white muslin, like a mummy's. One of his long shapely hands lay out on the black cloth. That was all one could see of him. Mrs. Shemurda came out and placed an open prayer book against the body, making the sign of the cross on the bandaged head with her fingers.

Starting point is 02:36:57 Ambrosch knelt down and made the same gesture, and after him Antonia and Merak. Yulka hung back. Her mother pushed her forward and kept saying something to her over and over. Yulka knelt down, shut her eyes, and put out her hand a little way, but she drew it back and began to cry wildly. She was afraid to touch the bandage. Mrs. Shimerda caught her by the shoulders and pushed her toward the coffin, but grandmother interfered. No, Mrs. Shemurda, she said firmly.

Starting point is 02:37:27 I won't stand by and see that child frightened into spasms. She is too little to understand what you want of her. Let her alone. At a look from grandfather, Fuchs and Jelinek placed the lid on the box and began to nail it down over Mr. Shemurda. I was afraid to look at Antonia. She put her arms around Yulka and held the little girl close to her. The coffin was put into the wagon. We drove slowly away against the fine, icy snow which cut our faces like a sandblast.

Starting point is 02:37:59 When we reached the grave, it looked a very little spot in that snow-covered waste. The men took the coffin to the edge of the hole and lowered it with ropes. We stood about watching them, and the powdery snow lay without melting on the caps and shoulders of the men and the shawls of the women. cheleneck spoke in a persuasive tone to mrs shimerda and then turned to grandfather she says mr burden she is very glad if you can make some prayer for him here in english for the neighbors to understand grandmother looked anxiously at grandfather he took off his hat and the other man did likewise i thought his prayer remarkable i still remember it he began oh great and just god no man among us knows what the sleeper knows, nor is it for us to judge what lies between him and thee. He prayed that if any man there had been remiss toward the stranger come through a far country, God would forgive him and soften his heart. He recalled the promises to the widow and the

Starting point is 02:39:02 fatherless, and asked God to smooth the way before this widow and her children, and to incline the hearts of men to deal justly with her. In closing, he said we were leaving Mr. Shemurda at thy judgment seat, which is also thy mercy seat. All the time he was praying, Grandmother watched him through the black fingers of her glove, and when he said, Amen, I thought she looked satisfied with him.

Starting point is 02:39:26 She turned to Otto and whispered, Can't you start a hymn, Fuchs? It was seem less heathenish. Fuchs glanced about to see if there was general approval of her suggestion, then began, Jesus, lover of my soul, and all the men and women took it up after him. Whenever I have heard the hymn since, it has made me remember that white waste in the little group of people

Starting point is 02:39:50 and the bluish air full of fine eddying snow like long veils flying, while the nearer waters roll, while the tempest still is high. Years afterward, when the open grazing days were over and the red grass had been plowed under and under until it had almost disappeared from the prairie, when all the fields were under fence and the roads no longer ran about like wild things, but followed the surveyed section lines, Mr. Shemurda's grave was still there, with a sagging wire fence around it, and an unpainted wooden cross.

Starting point is 02:40:25 As grandfather had predicted, Mrs. Shemurda never saw the roads going over his head. The road from the north curved a little to the east just there, and the road from the west swung out a little to the south, so that the grave, with its tall red grass, was never mowed, was like a little island, and at twilight, under a new moon or the clear evening star, the dusty roads used to look like soft gray rivers flowing past it. I never came upon the place without emotion, and in all that country it was a spot most dear to me. I loved the dim superstition,

Starting point is 02:40:59 the propitiatory intent that I put the grave there, and still more I love the spirit that could not carry out the sentence, the air of the surveyed lines, the clemency of the soft, earth roads, along which the homecoming wagons rattled after sunset. Never a tired driver past the wooden cross, I am sure, without wishing well to the sleeper. End of Chapter 16. My Antonia by Willa Cather, Book 1, the Shemerdas, Chapter 17. When spring came after that hard winter, one could not get enough of the nimble air. Every morning I awakened with a fresh consciousness that winter was over. There were not. of the signs of spring for which I used to watch in Virginia. No budding woods or blooming gardens.

Starting point is 02:41:47 There was only spring itself, the throb of it, the light restlessness, the vital essence of it everywhere, in the sky, in the swift clouds, and the pale sunshine, in the warm, high wind, rising suddenly, sinking suddenly, impulsive and playful like a big puppy that pawed you and then lay down to be petted. If I had been tossed down blindfold on that red prairie, I should have known that it was spring. Everywhere now there was the smell of burning grass. Our neighbors burnt off their pasture before the new grass made a start, so that the fresh growth would not be mixed with the dead stand of last year.

Starting point is 02:42:22 Those light, swift fires running about the country, seemed a part of the same kindling that was in the air. The Shemerdas were in their new log house by then. The neighbors had helped them to build it in March. It stood directly in front of their old cave, which they used as a cellar. The family were now fairly equipped to begin their struggle with the soil. They had four comfortable rooms to live in, a new windmill, bought on credit, a chicken house and poultry.

Starting point is 02:42:50 Mrs. Shemurda had paid grandfather $10 for a milk cow and was to give him 15 more as soon as they harvested their first crop. When I rode up to the Shemurda's one bright, windy afternoon in April, Yulka ran out to meet me. It was to her now that I gave reading lessons. Antonia was busy with other things. I tied my pony and went into the kitchen where Mrs. Shemurda was baking bread, chewing poppy seeds as she worked. By this time, she could speak enough English to ask me a great many questions about what our men were doing in the fields.

Starting point is 02:43:22 She seemed to think that my elders withheld helpful information, and that for me she might get valuable secrets. On this occasion, she asked me very craftily when grandfather expected to begin planting corn. I told her, adding that he thought we should have a dry spring and that the corn would not be held back by too much rain, as it had been last year. She gave me a shrewd glance. He not Jesus, she blustered. He not know about the wet and the dry.

Starting point is 02:43:51 I did not answer her. What was the use? As I sat waiting for the hour when Ambrosch and Antonia would return from the fields, I watched Mrs. Shemurda at her work. She took from the oven a coffee cake which she wanted to keep warm for supper and wrapped it in a quilt stuffed with feathers. I've seen her put even a roast goose in this quilt to keep it hot. When the neighbors were there building the new house, they saw her do this,

Starting point is 02:44:16 and the story got abroad that the Shemerdas kept their food in their feather beds. When the sun was dropping low, Antonia came up the big South draw with her team. How much older she had grown in eight months. She had come to us a child, and now she was a tall, strong young girl, although her 15th birthday had just slipped by. I ran out and met her as she brought her horse. horses up to the windmill to water them. She wore the boots her father had so thoughtfully taken off before he shot himself, and his old fur cap, her outgrown cotton dress switched about her calves

Starting point is 02:44:48 over the boot tops. She kept her sleeves rolled up all day, and her arms and throat were burned as brown as sailors. Her neck came up strongly out of her shoulders, like the bowl of a tree out of the turf. One sees that draft horse neck among the peasant women in all old countries. She greeted me gaily and began at once to tell me how much ploughing she had done that day. Ambros, she said, was on the north quarter, breaking sod with the oxen. Jim, you ask Jake how much he plowed today. I don't want that Jake get more done in one day than me. And what we have very much corn this fall? While the horses drew in the water and nosed each other, and then drank again, Antonia sat down on the windmill step and rested her head on her hand.

Starting point is 02:45:30 You see the big prayer fire from your place last night? I hope your grandpa includes no stax? Now we didn't. I came to ask you something, Tony. Grandmother wants to know if you can't go to the term of school that begins next week over at the Sade Schoolhouse. She says there's a good teacher and you'd learn a lot. Antonia stood up, lifting and dropping her shoulders as if they were stiff. I ain't got time to learn. I can walk like man's now. My mother can't say no more how Ambrosch do all and nobody to help him. I can work as much as him. School is all right for little kids. boys. I helped make this land one good farm. She clucked to her team and started for the barn. I walked beside her feeling vexed. Was she going to grow up boastful like her mother, I wondered. Before we reached the stable, I felt something tense in her silence and glancing up, I saw that she was crying. She turned her face from me and looked off at the red streak of dying light over the dark prairie. I climbed up into the loft and threw down the hay for her while she unharnessed her team.

Starting point is 02:46:37 walk slowly back toward the house. Ambrosch had come in from the north corridor and was watering his oxen at the tank. Antonia took my hand. Sometime you will tell me all those nice things you learn at the school, won't you, Jimmy? She asked with a sudden rush of feeling in her voice. My father, he went much to school. He'd know a great deal how to make the fine cloth like what you not got here. Play horn and violin and he read so many books that the priest in Bohemi came to talk to him. You won't forget my father, Jim. No, I said, I will never forget him. Mrs. Shemurda asked me to stay for supper. After Ambrosch and Antonia had washed the field dust from their hands and faces at the wash basin by the kitchen door, we sat down at the oilcloth

Starting point is 02:47:24 covered table. Mrs. Shemurda ladled meal mush out of an iron pot and poured milk on it. After the mush, we had fresh bread and sorghum molasses and coffee with the cake that had been kept warm in the feathers. Antonia and Ambrosch were talking in Bohemian, disputing about which of them had done more plowing that day. Mrs. Shemurda egged them on, chuckling while she gobbled her food. Presently Ambrosch said suddenly in English, You take them ox tomorrow and try the sod plow. Then you not be so smart.

Starting point is 02:47:57 The sister laughed. Don't be mad. I know it's awful hot work for break sod. I milk the cow for you tomorrow if you want. Mrs. Shemar had turned quickly to me. That cow, not give so much milk like what your grandpa say. If he make talk about fifteen dollars, I'd send him back the cow. He doesn't talk about the fifteen dollars, I exclaimed indignantly.

Starting point is 02:48:19 He doesn't find fault with people. He said I break his saw when we build, and I never grumbled Ambrosch. I knew he had broken the saw, and then hid it and lied about it. I began to wish I had not stayed for supper. everything was disagreeable to me. Antonia ate so noisily now like a man, and she yawned often at the table and kept stretching her arms over her head

Starting point is 02:48:42 as if they ached. Grandmother had said, Heavy field work I'll spoil that girl. She'll lose all her nice ways and get rough ones. She had lost them already. After supper, I rode home through the sad, soft spring twilight. Since winter, I had seen very little of Antonia.

Starting point is 02:49:01 She was out in the fields from sunup until sunday. down. If I rode over to see her where she was plowing, she stopped at the end of a row to chat for a moment, then gripped her plow handles, plucked her team, and waded on down the furrow, making me feel that she was now grown up and had no time for me. On Sundays, she helped her mother make garden or sowed all day. Grandfather was pleased with Antonia. When he complained of her, he only smiled and said, she will help some fellow get ahead in the world. Nowadays, Tony could talk of nothing but the prices of things, or how much she could lift and endure. She was too proud of her strength.

Starting point is 02:49:38 I knew, too, that Ambrosch put upon her some chores a girl ought not to do, and that the farmhands around the country joked in a nasty way about it. Whenever I saw her come up the furrow, shouting to her beasts, sunburned, sweaty, her dress open at the neck, and her throat and chest dust plattered. I used to think of a tone in which poor Mr. Shemurda, who could say so little, yet managed to say so much when he exclaimed, My Antonia! End of Chapter 17.

Starting point is 02:50:11 My Antonia by Willa Cather. Book 1, the Shemerdas, Chapter 18. After I began to go to the country school, I saw less of the Bohemians. We were 16 pupils at the Sodd schoolhouse, and we all came on horseback and brought our dinner. My schoolmates were none of them very interesting, but I somehow felt that by making comrades of them,

Starting point is 02:50:35 I was getting even with Antonia. for her indifference. Since the father's death, Ambrosch was more than ever the head of the house, and he seemed to direct the feelings as well as the fortunes of his womenfolk. Antonia often quoted his opinions to me, and she let me see that she admired him, while she thought of me only as a little boy. Before the spring was over, there was a distinct coldness between us and the Shemerdas. It came about in this way. One Sunday I rode over there with Jake to get a horse-collar, which Ambrosch had borrowed from him and not returned. It was a beautiful blue morning.

Starting point is 02:51:12 The buffalo peas were blooming in pink and purple masses along the roadside, and the larks perched on last year's dried sunflower stalks were singing straight at the sun, their heads thrown back in their yellow breasts a quiver. The wind blew about us in warm, sweet gusts. We rode slowly with a pleasant sense of Sunday indolence. We found the Shemurda's working just as if it were a week, day. Maric was cleaning up the stable, and Antonia and her mother were making garden, off across the

Starting point is 02:51:42 pond in the drawhead. Ambrosch was up on the windmill tower, oiling the wheel. He came down not very cordially. When Jake asked for the collar, he grunted and scratched his head. The collar belonged to grandfather, of course, and Jake, feeling responsible for it, flared up. Now don't you say you haven't gotten Ambrosch, because I know you have, and if you ain't going to look for it, I will ill. Ambrosch shrugged his shoulders and sauntered down the hill toward the stable. I could see that it was one of his mean days. Presently he returned carrying a collar that had been badly used, trampled in the dirt and gnawed by rats until the hair was sticking out of it. "'This what you want?' he asked Sir Lily. Jake jumped off his horse. I saw a wave of red come up

Starting point is 02:52:29 under the rough stubble on his face. That ain't the piece of harness I loaned you, Ambrosch. or if it is, you've used it shameful. I had it going to carry such a looking thing back to Mr. Burden. Ambrosch dropped the collar on the ground. All right, he said coolly, took up his oil can and began to climb the mill. Jake caught him by the belt of his trousers and yanked him back. Ambrosch's feet had scarcely touched the ground when he lunged out with a vicious kick at Jake's stomach. Fortunately, Jake was in such a position that he could dodge it.

Starting point is 02:53:01 This was not the sort of thing country boys did when they played at fit. his stee cuffs, and Jake was furious. He landed Ambrosch a blow on the head. It sounded like the crack of an axe on a cow pumpkin. Ambrosch dropped over, stunned. We heard squeals and looking up saw Antonia and her mother coming on the run. They did not take the path around the pond, but plunged through the muddy water without even lifting their skirts. They came on screaming and clawing the air. By this time Ambrosch had come to his senses and was sputtering his nosebleed. Jake sprang into his saddle. Let's get out this, Jim, he called.

Starting point is 02:53:39 Mrs. Shimerda threw her hands over her head and clutched as if she were going to pull down lightning. Law, law, she shrieked after us. Laugh for knock my ambrosch down. I never like you no more. Jake and Jim Burden, Antonia panted. No friends anymore. Jake stopped and turned his horse for a second. Well, you're a damn ungrateful lot, the whole package.

Starting point is 02:54:03 of you, he shouted back. I guess the burdens can get along without you. You've been a sight of trouble to them anyhow. We rode away, feeling so outraged that the fine morning was spoiled for us. I had a word to say, and poor Jake was white as paper and trembling all over. It made him sick to get so angry. They ain't the same, Jimmy, kept saying in a hurt tone. These foreigners ain't the same. You can't trust them to be fair. It's dirty to kick a feller. You heard how the women turn on you, and after all we went through an accent of them last winter, they ain't to be trusted. I don't want to see you get too thick with any of them. I'll never be friends with them again, Jake, I declared hotly. I believe they're all like Kragiak and Ambrosch underneath. Grandfather

Starting point is 02:54:51 heard our story with a twinkle in his eye. He advised Jake to write to town tomorrow, go to a justice of the peace, tell him he had knocked young Shemurda down and pay his fine. And if Mrs. Shemurda, was inclined to make trouble, her son was still under age, she would be forestalled. Jake said he might as well take the wagon and haul to market the pig he had been fattening. On Monday, about an hour after Jake had started, we saw Mrs. Shemurda and her ambrosch proudly driving by, looking neither to the right nor left. As they rattled out of sight down the Black Hawk Road, grandfather chuckled, saying he had rather expected she would follow the matter up? Jake paid his fine with a $10 bill grandfather had given him for that purpose.

Starting point is 02:55:36 But when the Shemerdas found that Jake sold his pig in town that day, Ambrosch worked it out in his shrewd head that Jake had to sell his pig to pay his fine. This theory afforded the shimerdas great satisfaction, apparently. For weeks afterward, whenever Jake and I met Antonia on her way to the post office, or going along the road with her work team, she would clap her hands and called to us in a spiteful crowing voice, Jakey, Jakey, sell the pig and payless lap. Otto pretended not to be surprised at Antonia's behavior. He only lifted his brows and said,

Starting point is 02:56:11 You can't tell me anything new about a Czech. I'm an Austrian. Grandfather was never a party to what Jake called her feud with the Shemerdas. Ambrosch and Antonia always greeted him respectfully, and he asked them about their affairs and gave them advice as usual. he thought the future looked hopeful for them. Ambrosch was a far-seeing fellow. He soon realized that his oxen were too heavy for any work except breaking sod, and he succeeded in selling them to a newly arrived German. With the money, he bought another team of horses, which grandfather selected for him.

Starting point is 02:56:45 Merrick was strong, and Ambrosh worked him hard, but he could never teach him to cultivate corn, I remember. The one idea that had ever got through poor Merrick's thick head was that all exertion was meritorious. He always bore down on the handles of the cultivator and drove the blades so deep into the earth that the horses were soon exhausted. In June, Ambrosch went to work at Mr. Bushies for a week and took Merrick with him at full wages. Mrs. Shemurda then drove the second cultivator. She and Antonia worked in the fields all day and did the chores at night. While the two women were running the place alone, one of the new horses got colic and gave them a terrible fright. Antonya had gone down to the barn one night to see that all was well before she went to bed,

Starting point is 02:57:30 and she noticed that one of the roans was swollen about the middle and stood with its head hanging. She mounted another horse without waiting to saddle him, and hammered on our door just as we were going to bed. Grandfather answered her knock. He did not send one of his men, but rode back with her himself, taking a syringe in an old piece of carpet he kept for hot applications when our horses were sick. He found Mrs. Shemurda sitting by the horse with her lantern groaning and wringing her hands. It took but a few moments to release the gases pent up in the poor beast,

Starting point is 02:58:03 and the two women heard the rush of wind and saw the roan visibly diminish in girth. If I lose that horse, Mr. Burden, Anthony exclaimed, I never stay here till Ambrosch come home. I go drown myself in the pond before morning. When Ambrosch came back from Mr. Bushies, we learned that he had given Merrick's wages to the poor. priest at Blackhawk for masses for their father's soul. Grandmother thought Antonia needed shoes more than Mr. Shemurda needed prayers, but grandfather said tolerantly, if he can spare six dollars,

Starting point is 02:58:35 pinched as he is, it shows he believes what he professes. It was grandfather who brought about a reconciliation with the Shemirda's. When morning he told us that the small grain was coming on so well, he thought he would begin to cut his wheat on the 1st of July. He would need more men, and if it were greetable to everyone he would engage Ambrosch for the reaping and thrashing, as the Shemerdas had no small grain of their own. I think, Emmeline, he concluded, I will ask Antonia to come over and help you in the kitchen. She will be glad to earn something, and it will be a good time to end misunderstandings. I may as well write over this morning and make arrangements. Do you want to go with me, Jim? His tone told me that he had already decided for me. After breakfast, we set off together. When Mrs.

Starting point is 02:59:23 Shemurda saw us coming, she ran from her door down into the draw behind the stable, as if she did not want to meet us. Grandfather smiled to himself while he tied his horse, and we followed her. Behind the barn we came upon a funny sight. The cow had evidently been grazing somewhere in the draw. Mrs. Shemurda had run to the animal, pulled up the lariat pin, and when we came upon her, she was trying to hide the cow in an old cave in the bank. As the hole was narrow and dark, the cow held back, and the old woman was slapping and pushing at her hindquarters, trying to spank her into the drawside. Grandfather ignored her singular occupation and greeted her politely. Good morning, Mrs. Shemurda. Can you tell me where I will find Ambrosch? Which field? He with the

Starting point is 03:00:07 sod-corn. She pointed toward the north, still standing in front of the cow, as if she hoped to conceal it. His sod-corn will be good for fodder this winter, said grandfather, encouragingly. And where is Antonia? She go with. Mrs. Shemerta kept wiggling her bare feet about nervously in the dust. Very well, I will ride up there. I want them to come over and help me cut my oats and wheat next month. I will pay them wages. Good morning. By the way, Mrs. Shemurda, he said as he turned up the path. I think we may as well call it square about the cow. She started and clutched the rope tighter, seeing that she did not understand Grandfather turned back. You need not pay me. me anything more. No more money. The cow is yours. Pay no more. Keep cow, she asked in a

Starting point is 03:01:00 bewildered tone, her narrow eyes snapping at us in the sunlight. Exactly. Pay no more. Keep cow, he nodded. Mrs. Shemerta dropped the rope, ran after us, and crouching down beside grandfather, she took his hand and kissed it. I doubt if he had ever been so much embarrassed before. I was a little startled too. Somehow that seemed to bring the old world very close. We rode away laughing and grandfather said, I expect she thought we had come to take the cowway for certain, Jim. I wonder if she wouldn't have scratched a little if we'd laid hold of that lariat rope. Our neighbors seemed glad to make peace with us. The next Sunday, Mrs. Shemerta came over and brought Jake a pair of socks she had knitted. She presented them with an air of great magnanimity, saying,

Starting point is 03:01:49 now you not come anymore for knock my Ambrosch down. Jake laughed sheepishly. I don't want to have no trouble with Ambrosch. If he let me alone, I'll let him alone. If he slap you, we ain't got no pig for pay the fine, she said insinuatingly. If he slap you, we ain't got no pig for pay the fine, she said insinuatingly. Jake was not at all disconcerted. Have the last word, ma'am, he said cheerfully.

Starting point is 03:02:21 It's a lady's privilege. End of Chapter 18. My Antonia by Willa Cather. Book 1, the Shemerdas, Chapter 19. July came on with that breathless, brilliant heat, which makes the plains of Kansas and Nebraska the best corn country in the world. It seemed as if we could hear the corn growing in the night.

Starting point is 03:02:44 Under the stars, one caught a faint crackling in the dewy, heavy-odoured cornfields where the feathered stalks stood so juicy and green. If all the great plain from the Missouri to the rocky mountains had been under glass, and the heat regulated by a thermometer, it could not have been better for the yellow tassels that were ripening and fertilizing each other day by day. The cornfields were far apart in those times, with miles of wild grazing land between. It took a clear meditative eye like my grandfathers to foresee that they would enlarge and multiply until they would be, not the Shemurda's cornfields or Mr. Bushies, but the world's cornfields,

Starting point is 03:03:22 that their yield would be one of the great economic facts, like the wheat crop of Russia, which underlie all the activities of men, in peace or war. The burning sun of those few weeks, with occasional rains at night, secured the corn. After the milky ears were once formed, we had little to fear from dry weather. The men were working so hard in the wheat fields that they did not notice the heat. though I was kept busy carrying water for them, and Grandmother and Antonia had so much to do in the kitchen that they could not have told weather one day was hotter than another.

Starting point is 03:03:56 Each morning while the dew was still in the grass, Antonia went with me up to the garden to get early vegetables for dinner. Grandmother made her wear a sun bonnet, but as soon as we reached the garden, she threw it on the grass and let her hair fly in the breeze. I remember how, as we bent over the pea vines, beads of perspiration used to gather on her upper lip like a little mustache. Oh, better I like to work out of doors than in a house she used to sing joyfully.

Starting point is 03:04:24 I not care that your grandmother say it makes me like a man. I like to be like a man. She would toss her head and ask me to feel the muscles swell in her brown arm. We were glad to have her in the house. She was so gay and responsive that one did not mind her heavy running step or her clattery way with pans. Grandmother was in high spirits during the weeks that Antonia worked for us. All the nights were close and hot during that harvest season. The harvester slept in the hayloff because it was cooler there than in the house.

Starting point is 03:04:57 I used to lie in my bed by the open window, watching the heat lightning play softly along the horizon, or looking up at the gaunt frame of the windmill against the blue night sky. One night there was a beautiful electric storm, though not enough rain fell to damage the cut grain. The men went down to the barn immediately after supper, and when the dishes were washed, Antonia and I climbed up on the slanting roof of the chicken house to watch the clouds. The thunder was loud and metallic, like the rattle of sheet iron,

Starting point is 03:05:28 and the lightning broke in great zigzags across the heavens, making everything stand out and come close to us for a moment. Half the sky was checkered with black thunderheads, but all the west was luminous and clear, In the lightning flashes it looked like deep blue water, with a sheen of moonlight on it, and the mottled part of the sky was like marble pavement, like the K of some splendid seacoast city doomed to destruction. Great warm splashes of rain fell on her upturned faces.

Starting point is 03:05:59 One black cloud, no bigger than a little boat, drifted out into the clear space unattended and kept moving westward. All about us, we could hear the faulty beat of the raindrops on the soft dust of the farmyard. Grandmother came to the door and said it was late, and we would get wet out there. In a minute we come, Antonia called back to her. I like your grandmother and all things here, she sighed. I wish my papa lived to see the summer. I wish no winter ever come again.

Starting point is 03:06:31 It will be summer long while yet, I reassured her. Why aren't you always nice like this, Tony? How nice. Why, just like this, like yourself? Why do you all the time try to be like Ambrosch? She put her arms under her head and lay back, looking up at the sky. If I live here like you that is different, things will be easy for you, but they will be hard for us. End of Chapter 19.

Starting point is 03:07:04 My Antonia, by Willa Cather, Book 2, The Hired Girls, Chapter 1. I had been living with my grandfather for nearly 3. three years, when he decided to move to Black Hawk. He and grandmother were getting old for the heavy work of a farm, and as I was now 13, they thought I ought to be going to school. Accordingly, our homestead was rented to that good woman, the widow Stevens, and her bachelor brother, and we bought Preacher White's house at the north end of Black Hawk. This was the first townhouse one passed driving in from the farm, a landmark which told country people, their long ride was over.

Starting point is 03:07:46 We were to move to Black Hawk in March, and as soon as grandfather had fixed the date, he let Jake and Otto know of his intention. Otto said he would not be likely to find another place that suited him so well, that he was tired of farming and thought he would go back to what he called the Wild West. Jake Marpole, lured by Otto's stories of adventure, decided to go with him. We did our best to dissuade Jake. handicapped by illiteracy and by his trusting disposition that he would be an easy prey to sharpers. Grandmother begged him to stay among kindly Christian people, where he was known, but there was no reasoning with him. He wanted to be a prospector. He thought a silver mine was waiting for him in Colorado. Jake and Otto served us to the last. They moved us into town, put down the carpets in

Starting point is 03:08:40 our new house, made shelves and cupboards for grandmother's kitchen. and seemed loath to leave us. But at last they went, without warning. Those two fellows had been faithful to us through sun and storm, had given us things that cannot be bought in any market in the world. With me they had been like older brothers, had restrained their speech and manners out of care for me, and given me so much good comradeship. Now they got on the westbound train one morning, in their Sunday clothes, with their oilcloth felices, and I never saw them again. Months afterward, we got a card from Otto, saying that Jake had been down with mountain fever, but now they were both working in the Yankee girl mine, and were doing well.

Starting point is 03:09:26 I wrote to them at that address, but my letter was returned to me, unclaimed. After that we never heard from them. Black Hawk, the new world in which we had come to live, was a clean, well-planted, little prairie town, with white fences and good green yards about the dwellings, wide, dusty streets, and shapely little trees growing along the wooden sidewalks. In the center of the town, there were two rows of new brick store buildings, a brick school house, the courthouse, and four white churches. Our own house looked down over the town, and from our upstairs windows we could see the winding line of the river bluffs two miles south of us. That river was

Starting point is 03:10:09 to be my compensation for the lost freedom of the farming country. We came to Black Hawk in March, and by the end of April we felt like town people. Grandfather was a deacon in the New Baptist Church. Grandmother was busy with church suppers and missionary societies, and I was quite another boy, or thought I was. Suddenly, put down among boys of my own age, I found I had a great deal to learn. Before the spring term of school was over, I could fight, play, keeps, tease the little girls, and use forbidden words as well as any boy in my class. I was restrained from utter savagery only by the fact that Mrs. Harling, our nearest neighbor, kept an eye on me, and if my behavior went beyond certain bounds, I was not permitted to come into her yard

Starting point is 03:10:57 or to play with her jolly children. We saw more of our country neighbors now than when we'd lived on the farm. Our house was a convenient stopping place for them. We had a big barn where farmers could put up their teams, and their women folk more often accompanied them now that they could stay with us for dinner and rest and set their bonnets right before they went shopping. The more our house was like a country hotel, the better I liked it. I was glad when I came home from school at noon to see a farm wagon standing in the backyard, and I was always ready to run downtown to get a beefsteak or baker's bread for unexpected company. All through that first spring and summer, I kept hoping that Ambrosch would bring Antonia and Yulka to see our new

Starting point is 03:11:42 house. I wanted to show them our red plush furniture and the trumpet-blowing cherubs the German paper hanger had put on our parlor ceiling. When Ambrosch came to town, however, he came alone, and though he put his horses in our barn, he would never stay for dinner, or tell us anything about his mother and sisters. If we ran out and questioned him as he was slipping through the yard, he would merely work his shoulders about in his coat and say, "'They all right, I guess.' Mrs. Stevens, who now lived on our farm, grew as fond of Antonia as we had been,

Starting point is 03:12:17 and always brought us news of her. All through the wheat season, she told us, Ambrosch hired his sister out like a man, and she went from farm to farm, binding sheaves or working with the thrashers. The farmers liked her and were kind to her, said they would rather have her for a hand that Ambrosch. When fall came, she was to husk corn for the neighbors until Christmas, as she had done the year before. But Grandmother saved her from this by getting her a place to work with our neighbors, the Harlings.

Starting point is 03:12:47 End of Chapter 1 My Antonia, by Willa Cather, Book 2, The Hired Girls, Chapter 2. Grandmother often said that if she had to live in town, she thanked God she lived next the Harlings. They had been farming people, like our servants. and their place was like a little farm with a big barn and a garden and an orchard and grazing lots, even a windmill. The Harlings were Norwegians, and Mrs. Harling had lived in Christiana until she was ten years old. Her husband was born in Minnesota. He was a grain merchant and cattle buyer, and was generally considered the most enterprising businessmen in our county. He controlled a line

Starting point is 03:13:31 of grain elevators in the little towns along the railroad to the west of us. and was away from home a great deal. In his absence, his wife was the head of the household. Mrs. Harling was short and square and sturdy-looking, like her house. Every inch of her was charged with an energy that made itself felt the moment she entered a room. Her face was rosy and solid, with bright twinkling eyes and a stubborn little chin. She was quick to anger, quick to laughter, and jolly from the depths of her soul. How well I remember her laugh. How well I remember her laugh. It had in it the same sudden recognition that flashed into her eyes was a burst of humor, short and intelligent. Her rapid footsteps shook her own floors, and she routed lassitude and indifference wherever she came.

Starting point is 03:14:20 She could not be negative or perfunctory about anything. Her enthusiasm and her violent likes and dislikes asserted themselves into all the everyday occupations of life. Washday was interesting, never dreary at the heart. Harlings. Preserving time was a prolonged festival, and house cleaning was like a revolution. When Mrs. Harling made garden that spring, we could feel the stir of her undertaking through the Willow Hedge that separated our place from hers. Three of the Harling children were near me in age. Charlie, the only son, they had lost an older boy, was 16. Julia, who was known as the musical one, was 14 when I was, and Sally, the tomboy with short hair, was a year younger. She was nearly as

Starting point is 03:15:08 strong as I, and uncannily clever at all boys' sports. Sally was a wild thing with sunburned yellow hair, bobbed about her ears, and a brown skin, for she never wore a hat. She raced all over town on one roller skate, often cheated at keeps, but was such a quick shot one couldn't catch her at it. The grown-up daughter, Francis, was a very important person in our world. She was her father's chief clerk and virtually managed his Black Hawk office during his frequent absences. Because of her unusual business ability, he was stern and exacting with her. He paid her a good salary, but she had few holidays and never got away from her responsibilities. Even on Sundays she went to the office to open the mail and read the markets.

Starting point is 03:15:56 With Charlie, who was not interested in business, but was already preparing for Annapolis, Mr. Harling was very indulgent, bought him guns and tools and electric batteries, and never asked what he did with them. Francis was dark, like her father, and quite as tall. In winter she wore a sealskin coat and cap, and she and Mr. Harling used to walk home together in the evening, talking about grain cars and cattle, like two men. Sometimes she came over to see Grandfather. after supper, and her visits flattered him. More than once they put their wits together to rescue some unfortunate farmer from the clutches of Wick Cutter, the Black Hawk Moneylender. Grandfather

Starting point is 03:16:38 said Francis Harling was as good a judge of credits as any banker in the county. The two or three men who had tried to take advantage of her in a deal acquired celebrity by their defeat. She knew every farmer for miles about, how much land he had under cultivation, how many cattle he was feeding, what his liabilities were. Her interest in these people was more than a business interest. She carried them all in her mind as if they were characters in a book or a play. When Francis drove out into the country on business, she would go miles out of her way to call on some of the old people, or to see the women who seldom got to town. She was quick at understanding the grandmothers who spoke no English, and the most reticent and distrustful of them would tell her their story, without realizing they were doing so. She went

Starting point is 03:17:26 to country funerals and weddings in all weather's. A farmer's daughter who was to be married could count on a wedding present from Francis Harling. In August, the Harling's Danish cook had to leave them. Grandmother entreated them to try Antonia. She cornered Ambrosch the next time he came to town and pointed out to him that any connection with Christian Harling would strengthen his credit and be of advantage to him. One Sunday, Mrs. Harling took the long ride out to the Shemerdas with Francis. She said she wanted to see what the girl came from and to have a clear understanding with her mother. I was in our yard when they came driving home just before sunset. They laughed and waved to me as they passed, and I could see they were in great good humor. After supper, when grandfather set off to

Starting point is 03:18:14 church, grandmother and I took my shortcut through the willow hedge and went over to hear about the visit to the Shemerdas. We found Mrs. Harling with Charlie and Sally on the front front of porch, resting after her hard drive. Julia was in the hammock. She was fond of repose, and Frances was at the piano, playing without a light, and talking to her mother through the open window. Mrs. Harling laughed when she saw us coming. I expect you left your dishes on the table tonight, Mrs. Burden, she called. Francis shut the piano and came out to join us. They had liked Antonia from their first glimpse of her, felt they knew exactly what kind of girl she was. as for mrs shimerda they found her very amusing mrs harling chuckled whenever she spoke of her i expect i am more at home with that sort of bird than you are mrs burdon they're a pair ambrosch and that old woman

Starting point is 03:19:08 they had had a long argument with ambrosch about antonia's allowances for clothes and pocket money it was his plan that every cent of his sister's wages should be paid over to him each month and he would provide her with such clothing as he thought necessary when mrs harling told him for his own money when mrs harling told him for his own money he should be paid over to him each month and he would provide her with such clothing as he thought necessary when mrs harling told him firmly that she would keep $50 a year for Antonia's own use. He declared they wanted to take his sister to town and dress her up and make a fool of her. Mrs. Harling gave us a lively account of Ambrosch's behavior throughout the interview, how he kept jumping up and putting on his cap, as if he were through with the whole business, and how his mother tweaked his coat tail and prompted him in Bohemian. Mrs. Harling finally agreed to pay $3 a week for Antonia's services, good wages in those days, and to keep her in shoes. There had been hot dispute about the shoes, Mrs. Shemurda finally saying persuasively that she would send Mrs. Harling three fat geese every year to

Starting point is 03:20:06 make even. Ambrosch was to bring his sister to town next Saturday. She'll be awkward and rough at first, like enough, grandmother said anxiously, but unless she's been spoiled by the hard life she's led, she has it in her to be a real helpful girl. Mrs. Harling laughed. Mrs. Harling laughed. her quick, decided laugh. Oh, I'm not worrying, Mrs. Burden. I can bring something out of that girl. She's barely seventeen, not too old to learn new ways. She's good-looking, too, she added warmly.

Starting point is 03:20:37 Francis turned to grandmother. Oh, yes, Mrs. Burden, you didn't tell us that. She was working in the garden when we got there, barefoot and ragged, but she has such fine brown legs and arms and splendid color in her cheeks, like those big, dark red plums. We were pleased at this prayer, raise, grandmother spoke feelingly. When she first came to this country, Francis, and had that

Starting point is 03:20:59 genteel old man to watch over her, she was as pretty a girl as I ever saw. But dear me, what a life she's led, out in the fields with those rough thrashers. Things would have been very different with poor Antonia if her father had lived. The Harlings begged us to tell them about Mr. Shemerta's death and the big snowstorm. By the time we saw grandfather coming home from church, we had told them pretty much all we knew of the Shemerdas. The girl will be happy here, and she'll forget those things, said Mrs. Harling confidently, as we rose to take our leave. End of Book 2, Chapter 2.

Starting point is 03:21:37 My Antonia, by Willa Cather, Book 2, the Hired Girls, Chapter 3. On Saturday, Ambrosch drove up to the back gate, and Antonia jumped down from the wagon and ran into our kitchen, just as she used to do. She was wearing shoes and stockings, and was breathless and excited. She gave me a playful shake by the shoulders. You ain't forget about me, Jim? Grandmother kissed her. God bless you, child.

Starting point is 03:22:05 Now you've come, you must try to do right and be a credit to us. Antonia looked eagerly about the house and admired everything. Maybe I be the kind of girl you like better. Now I come to town, she suggested hopefully. How good it was to have you. Antonia near us again, to see her every day and almost every night. Her greatest fault, Mrs. Harling found, was that she so often stopped her work and fell to playing with the children. She would race about the orchard with us, or take sides and our hayfights in the barn, or be the old bear that came down

Starting point is 03:22:38 from the mountain and carried off Nina. Tony learned English so quickly that by the time school began she could speak as well as any of us. I was jealous of Tony's admiration for Charlie Harling. Because he was always first in his classes at school, and could mend the water pipes or the doorbell and take the clock to pieces, she seemed to think him a sort of prince. Nothing that Charlie wanted was too much trouble for her. She loved to put up lunches for him when he went hunting, to mend his ball gloves and sew buttons on his shooting coat,

Starting point is 03:23:10 baked the kind of nutcakes he liked, and fed his setter dog when he was away on trips with his father. Antonia had made herself cloth working slippers out of Mr. Harling's old coats, and in these she went patting about after Charlie, fairly panting with eagerness to please him. Next to Charlie, I think she loved Nina best. Nina was only six, and she was rather more complex than the other children. She was fanciful, had all sorts of unspoken preferences, and was easily offended.

Starting point is 03:23:40 At the slightest disappointment or displeasure, her velvety brown eyes filled with tears, and she would lift her chin and walk silently away. If we ran after her and tried to appease her, it did no good. She walked on unmolyified. I used to think that no eyes in the world could grow so large or hold so many tears as Nina's. Mrs. Harling and Antonia invariably took her part. We were never given a chance to explain. The charge was simply, You have made Nina cry.

Starting point is 03:24:10 Now, Jimmy can go home, and Sally must get her arithmetic. I like Nina, too. She was so quaint and unexpected, and her eyes were lovely. but I often wanted to shake her. We had jolly evenings at the Harlings when father was away. If he was at home, the children had to go to bed early, or they came over to my house to play. Mr. Harling not only demanded a quiet house,

Starting point is 03:24:33 he demanded all his wife's attention. He used to take her away to their room in the West L, and talk over his business with her all evening. Though we did not realize it then, Mrs. Harling was our audience when we played, and we always looked to her for suggestions. Nothing flattered one like her quick laugh. Mr. Harling had a desk in his bedroom and his own easy chair by the window in which no one else ever sat.

Starting point is 03:24:58 On the nights when he was at home, I could see his shadow on the blind, and it seemed to me an arrogant shadow. Mrs. Harling paid no heed to anyone else if he was there. Before he went to sleep, she always got him a lunch of smoked salmon or anchovies and beer. He kept an alcohol lamp in his room and a French coffee pot, and his wife made coffee for him at any hour of the night he happened to want it. Most Black Hawk fathers had no personal habits, outside their domestic ones. They paid the bills, pushed the baby carriage after office hours, moved the sprinkler about over the lawn, and took the family driving on Sunday. Mr. Harling, therefore, seemed to me autocratic and imperial in his ways. He walked, talked, put on his gloves, shook hands, like a man who felt that he had power.

Starting point is 03:25:49 He was not tall, but he carried his head so haughtily that he looked like a commanding figure and there was something daring and challenging in his eyes. I used to imagine that the nobles, of whom Antonio was always talking, probably looked very much like Christian Harling, wore caped overcoats like his, and just such a glittering diamond upon a little finger. Except when the father was at home, the Harling house was never quiet. Mrs. Harling and Nina and Antonia made as much noise as a house full of children, and there was usually somebody at the piano.

Starting point is 03:26:25 Julia was the only one who held down to regular hours of practicing, but they all played. When Francis came home at noon, she played until dinner was ready. When Sally got back from school, she sat down in her hat and coat and drummed the plantation melodies that Negro minstrel troops brought to town. Even Nina played the Swedish wedding march. Mrs. Harling had studied the piano under a good teacher, and somehow she managed to practice every day. I soon learned that if I were sent over on an errand

Starting point is 03:26:55 and found Mrs. Harling at the piano, I must sit down and wait quietly until she turned to me. I can see her at this moment, her short, square person, planted firmly on the stool, her little fat hands moving quickly and neatly over the keys, her eyes fixed upon the music with intelligent concentration. End of Book 2, Chapter 3. My Antonia by Willa Cather, Book 2, the Hired Girls, Chapter 4.

Starting point is 03:27:26 I won't have none of your weevilly wheat and I won't have none of your barley, but I'll take a measure of fine white flour to make a cake for Charlie. We were singing rhymes to tease Antonia while she was beating up one of Charlie's favorite cakes in her big mixing bowl. It was a crisp autumn evening, just cold enough to make one glad to clip playing tag in the yard and retreat into the kitchen. We had begun to roll popcorn balls with syrup when we heard a knock at the back door, and Tony dropped her spoon and went to open it. A plump, fair-haired girl was standing in the doorway. She looked demure and pretty and made a graceful picture in her blue. cashmere dress and little blue hat, with a plaid shawl drawn neatly about her shoulders

Starting point is 03:28:09 and a clumsy pocketbook in her hand. Hello, Tony, don't you know me? she asked in a smooth low voice, looking in at us archly. Antonia gasped and stepped back. Why, it's Lena. Of course I didn't know you, so dressed up. Lena Lingard laughed as if this pleased her. I had not recognized her for a moment either. I had never seen her before with a hat on her head, or with shoes and stockings on her feet for that matter. And here she was, brushed and smoothed and dressed like a little town girl, smiling at us with perfect composure. Hello, Jim, she said carelessly as she walked into the kitchen and looked about her. I've come to town to work, too, Tony.

Starting point is 03:28:53 Have you now? Well, ain't that funny? Antonia stood ill at ease and didn't seem to know just what to do with her visitor. The door was open into the dining room where Mrs. Harling sat crocheting and Francis was reading. Francis asked Lena to come in and join them. You are Lena Lingard, aren't you? I've been to see your mother, but you were off herding cattle that day. Mama, this is Chris Lindgard's oldest girl.

Starting point is 03:29:18 Mrs. Harling dropped her worsted and examined the visitor with quick keen eyes. Lena was not at all disconcerted. She sat down in the chair Francis pointed out, carefully arranging her pocketboats. and gray cotton gloves on her lap. We followed with our popcorn, but Antonia hung back, said she had to get her cake into the oven. So you have come to town, said Mrs. Harling, her eyes still fixed on Lena.

Starting point is 03:29:43 Where are you working? For Mrs. Thomas, the dressmaker, she is going to teach me to sew. She says I have quite a knack. I'm through with the farm. There ain't any end to the work on a farm, and always so much trouble happens. I'm going to be a dressmaker.

Starting point is 03:29:57 "'Well, there have to be dressmakers. It's a good trade. But I wouldn't run down the farm if I were you,' said Mrs. Harling rather severely. "'How is your mother?' "'Oh, mother's never very well. She has too much to do. She'd get away from the farm, too, if she could. She was willing for me to come. After I learned to do sewing, I can make money and help her.' "'See that you don't forget to,' said Mrs. Harling, skeptically, as she took up her crocheting again, and sent the hook in and out with nimble fingers? Noam, I won't, said Lena blandly. She took a few grains of the popcorn we pressed upon her, eating them discreetly and taking care not to get her fingers sticky. Francis drew her chair up nearer to the visitor. I thought you were going to be married, Lena, she said teasingly. Didn't I

Starting point is 03:30:45 hear that Nick's Venson was rushing you pretty hard? Lena looked up with her curiously innocent smile. He did go with me quite a while, but his father made a fuss about it and said he wouldn't give Nick any land if he married me, so he's going to marry Annie Iverson. I wouldn't like to be her, Nick's awful sullen, and he'll take it out on her. He ain't spoke to his father since he promised. Francis laughed, and how do you feel about it? I don't want to marry Nick or any other man, Lena murmured. I've seen a good deal of married life, and I don't care for it. I want to be so I can help my mother and the children at home, and not have to ask leave of anybody. That's right, said French. and Mrs. Thomas thinks you can learn dressmaking?

Starting point is 03:31:30 Yes, I'm. I've always liked to sew, but I never had much to do with. Mrs. Thomas makes lovely things for all the town ladies. Did you know Mrs. Gardner is having a purple velvet made? The velvet came from Omaha. My, but it's lovely. Lena sighed softly and stroked her cashmere folds. Tony knows I never did like out-of-door work, she added. Mrs. Harling glanced at her.

Starting point is 03:31:54 I expect you'll learn to sew all right, Lena. if you'll only keep your head, and not go gadding about to dances all the time and neglect your work, the way some country girls do. Yesam. Tiny solderball is coming to town, too. She's going to work at the boys' home hotel. She'll see lots of strangers, Lena added wistfully. Too many, like enough, said Mrs. Harling. I don't think a hotel is a good place for a girl, though I guess Mrs. Gardner keeps an eye on her waitresses. Lena's candid eyes that always looked a little sleepy under their long lashes, kept straying about the cheerful rooms with naive admiration. Presently she drew on her cotton gloves. I guess I must be leaving, she said irresolutely.

Starting point is 03:32:38 Francis told her to come again whenever she was lonesome or wanted advice about anything. Lena replied that she didn't believe she would ever get lonesome in Black Hawk. She lingered at the kitchen door and begged Antonia to come and see her often. I've got a room of my own at Mrs. Thomas's, with a carpet. Tony shuffled uneasily in her cloth slippers. I'll come some time, but Mrs. Harling don't like to have me run much, she said evasively. You can do what you please when you go out, can't you? Lena asked in a guarded whisper, ain't you crazy about town, Tony? I don't care what anybody says. I'm done with the farm. She glanced back over her shoulder toward the dining room where Mrs. Harling sat. When Lena was gone, Francis asked Antonia why she hadn't been a little more

Starting point is 03:33:25 cordial to her. I didn't know if your mother would like her coming here, said Antonia, looking troubled. She was kind of talked about, out there. Yes, I know, but mother won't hold it against her if she behaves well here. You needn't say anything about that to the children. I guess Jim has heard all that gossip. When I nodded, she pulled my hair and told me I knew too much anyhow. We were good friends, Francis and I.

Starting point is 03:33:50 I ran home to tell grandmother that Lena Lingard had come to town. We were glad of it, for she had a hard life on the farm. Lena lived in the Norwegian settlement west of Squaw Creek, and she used to herd her father's cattle in the open country between his place and the Shimerda's. Whenever we rode over in that direction, we saw her out among her cattle, bareheaded and barefooted, scantily dressed in tattered clothing, always knitting as she watched her herd. Before I knew Lena, I thought of her as something wild,

Starting point is 03:34:20 that always lived on the prairie, because I had never seen her under a roof. Her yellow hair was burned to a ruddy thatch on her head, but her legs and arms, curiously enough, in spite of constant exposure to the sun, kept a miraculous whiteness, which somehow made her seem more undressed than the other girls who went scatily clad. The first time I stopped to talk to her, I was astonished at her soft voice and easy, gentle ways. The girls out there usually got rough and mannish after they went to hurting. But Lena asked Jake and me to get off our horses and stay a while, and behaved exactly as if she were in a house and were accustomed to having visitors. She was not embarrassed by her ragged clothes, and treated us

Starting point is 03:35:03 as if we were old acquaintances. Even then I noticed the unusual color of her eyes, a shade of deep violet, and their soft, confiding expression. Chris Lingard was not a very successful farmer, and he had a large family. Lena was always knitting stockings for little brothers and sisters, and even the Norwegian women who disapproved of her admitted that she was a good daughter to her mother. As Tony said, she had been talked about. She was accused of making O. Benson lose the little sense he had, and that at an age when she should still have been in pinafores.

Starting point is 03:35:39 Oll lived in a leaky dugout somewhere at the edge of the settlement. He was fat and lazy and discouraged, and bad luck had become a habit with him. After he had had every other kind of misfortune, his wife, Crazy Mary, tried to set a neighbor's barn on fire and was sent to the asylum at Lincoln. She was kept there for a few months, then escaped and walked all the way home, nearly 200 miles, traveling by night and hiding in barns and haystacks by day. When she got back to the Norwegian settlement, her poor feet were as hard as hoofs.

Starting point is 03:36:12 She promised to be good and was allowed to stay at home, though everyone realized she was as crazy as ever. And she still ran about barefooted through the snow. telling her domestic troubles to her neighbors. Not long after Mary came back from the asylum, I heard a young Dane, who was helping us to thrash, tell Jake and Otto that Chris Lingard's oldest girl had put Oll Benson out of his head, until he had no more sense than his crazy wife.

Starting point is 03:36:38 When Oll was cultivating his corn that summer, he used to get discouraged in the fields, tie up his team, and wander off to wherever Lina Lingard was hurting. There he would sit down on the draw side and help her watch her cattle. All the settlement was talking about it. The Norwegian preacher's wife went to Lena and told her that she ought not to allow this. She begged Lena to come to church on Sundays. Lena said she hadn't a dress in the world any less ragged than the one on her back. Then the minister's wife went through her old trunks and found some things she had worn before her marriage.

Starting point is 03:37:13 The next Sunday Lena appeared at church, a little late with her hair done up neatly on her head, like a young woman, wearing shoes and stockings, and the new dress, which she had made over for herself very becomingly. The congregation stared at her, until that morning no one, unless it were old, had realized how pretty she was, or that she was growing up. The swelling lines of her figure had been hidden under the shapeless rags she wore in the fields. After the last hymn had been sung, and the congregation was dismissed, old slipped out to the hitchbar and lifted Lena on her horse. That in itself was shocking. A married man was not expected to do such things, but it was nothing to the scene that followed. Crazy Mary darted out from the group of women at the church door and ran down the road after Lena, shouting horrible threats.

Starting point is 03:38:03 Look out, you Lena Lingard, look out. I'll come over with a corn knife one day and trim some of that shape off you. Then you won't sail round so fine, making eyes at men. The Norwegian women didn't know where to look. They were formal housewives. most of them with a severe sense of decorum. But Lena Lingard only laughed her lazy, good-natured laugh and rode on, gazing back over her shoulder at Oles' infuriated wife. The time came, however, when Lena didn't laugh. More than once Crazy Mary chased her across the prairie and round and round the Shemerdas cornfield. Lena never told her father, perhaps she was ashamed, perhaps she was more afraid of his anger than of the corn knife. I was at the Shemerdas one afternoon when Lina

Starting point is 03:38:48 Nina came bounding through the red grass fast as her white legs could carry her. She ran straight into the house and hid in Antonia's feather bed. Mary was not far behind. She came right up to the door and made us feel how sharp her blade was, showing us very graphically just what she meant to do to Lena. Mrs. Shimerda, leaning out of the window, enjoyed the situation keenly and was sorry when Antonia sent Mary away, mollified by an apron full of bottle tomatoes.

Starting point is 03:39:16 Lena came out from Tony's room behind the kitchen, very pink from the heat of the feathers, but otherwise calm. She begged Antonia and me to go with her and help get her cattle together. They were scattered and might be gorging themselves in somebody's cornfield. Maybe you lose a steer and learn not to make somethings happen with your eyes at married men, Mrs. Shemurda told her Hectoringly. Lena only smiled her sleepy smile. I never made anything to him with my eyes. I can't help it if he hangs around, and I can't order him off. It ain't my prairie.

Starting point is 03:39:51 End of Book 2, Chapter 4. My Antonia, by Willa Cather, Book 2, the Hired Girls, Chapter 5. After Lena came to Blackhawk, I often met her downtown, where she would be matching sewing silk or buying findings for Mrs. Thomas. If I happened to walk home with her, she told me all about the dresses she was helping to make, or about what she saw and heard. when she was with Tiny Sutterball at the hotel on Saturday nights. The boys' home was the best hotel on our branch of the Burlington, and all the commercial travelers in that territory tried to get into Black Hawk for Sunday.

Starting point is 03:40:28 They used to assemble in the parlor after supper on Saturday nights. Marshall Fieldsman, Hanson Kirkpatrick, played the piano and sang all the latest sentimental songs. After Tiny had helped the cook wash the dishes, she and Lena sat on the other side of the double doors between the parlor and the dining room, listening to the music and giggling at the jokes and stories. Lena often said she hoped I would be a traveling man when I grew up. They had a gay life of it, nothing to do but ride about on trains all day and go to theaters when they were in big cities.

Starting point is 03:41:01 Behind the hotel there was an old store building where the salesman opened their big trunks and spread out their samples on the counters. The Black Hawk merchants went to look at these things and order good. and Mrs. Thomas, though she was retail trade, was permitted to see them and to get ideas. They were all generous, these traveling men. They gave tiny solderball handkerchiefs and gloves and ribbons and striped stockings, and so many bottles of perfume and cakes of scented soap that she bestowed some of them on Lena. One afternoon, in the week before Christmas, I came upon Lena and her funny, square-headed

Starting point is 03:41:38 little brother Chris, standing before the drugstore, gave to you. gazing in at the wax dolls and blocks and Noah's arcs arranged in the frosty show window. The boy had come to town with a neighbor to do his Christmas shopping, for he had money of his own this year. He was only twelve, but that winter he had got the job of sweeping out the Norwegian church and making the fire in it every Sunday morning. A cold job it must have been, too. We went into Duckford's dry goods store, and Chris unwrapped all his presents and showed them to me, something for each of the six younger than himself, even a rubber pig for the baby. Lena had given him one of tiny solderball's bottles of perfume for his mother,

Starting point is 03:42:18 and he thought he would get some handkerchiefs to go with it. They were cheap, and he hadn't much money left. We found a table full of handkerchiefs spread out for view at Duckford's. Chris wanted those with initial letters in the corner, because he had never seen any before. He studied them seriously while Lena looked over his shoulder, telling him she thought the red letters would hold their color best. He seemed so perplexed that I thought perhaps he hadn't enough money after all. Presently, he said gravely.

Starting point is 03:42:47 Sister, you know Mother's name is Bertha. I don't know if I ought to get B for Bertha or M for Mother. Lena patted his bristly head. I'd get the B, Chrissy. It will please her for you to think about her name. Nobody ever calls her by it now. That satisfied him. His face cleared it once, and he took it.

Starting point is 03:43:06 three reds and three blues. When the neighbor came in to say that it was time to start, Lena wound Chris's comforter about his neck and turned up his jacket collar. He had no overcoat, and we watched him climb into the wagon and start on his long, cold drive. As we walked together up the windy street, Lena wiped her eyes with the back of her woolen glove. I get awful homesick for them all the same, she murmured, as if she were answering some remembered reproach. End of book 2, chapter 5 Myentania by Willa Cather

Starting point is 03:43:45 Book 1 Hired Girls, Chapter 6 Winter comes down savagely over a little town on the prairie. The wind that sweeps in from the open country slips away all the leafy springs that hide one yard from another in summer, and the houses seem to draw closer together. The roofs that look so far away across the green tree-tops now stare at you in the face,

Starting point is 03:44:06 and there is so much uglier than when they're angled for softened by vines and shrubs. in the morning when i was fighting my way to school against the wind i couldn't see anything but the road in front of me but in the late afternoon when i was coming home the town looked bleak and desolate to me the pale cold light of the winter sunset did not beautify it was like the light of truth itself when the smoky clouds hung low in the west and the red sun went down behind them leaving a pink flush on the snowy roofs and the blue drifts then the wind sprang up afresh with a kind of bitter song as if it said this is reality whether you like it or not all those frivolities of summer the light and shadow the living mask of green that trembled over everything they were lies and this is what was underneath this is the truth It was as if we were being punished for loving the loveliness of summer. If I loitered on the playground after school, I went to the post office to the mail and lingered to hear the gossip about the cigar stand, it would be growing dark by the time I came home.

Starting point is 03:45:08 The sun was gone, the frozen street stretched long and blue before me, the lights were shining pale in kitchen windows, and I could smell the supper's cooking as I passed. Few people were abroad, and each one of them was hurrying toward a fire. The glowing stoves in the houses were like magnets. When one passed, an old man, one could see nothing of his face but a red nose sticking out between a frosted beard and a long plush cap. The young men capered along with their hands in their pockets, and sometimes tried to slide on the icy sidewalk.

Starting point is 03:45:38 The children in their bright hoods and comforters never walked, but always ran from the moment they left their door, beating their mittens against their sides. When I got as far as a Methodist church, I was about halfway home. I can remember how glad I was when they were, to be a light in the church, and the painted glass windows shone out at us as we came along the frozen street. In the winter blakness a hunger for color came over people, like the Lapplanders craving for fats and sugar. Without knowing why, we used to linger on the sidewalk

Starting point is 03:46:08 outside the church when the lamps were lighted early for a choir practice or prayer meeting, shivering and talking till our feet were like lumps of ice. The crude reds and greens and blues of that colored glass held us there. On winter nights the lights in the Harlings window drew me like the painted glass. Inside that warm, roomy house, there was color, too. After supper, I used to catch up my cap, stick my hands on my pockets, and dive through the willow hedge, as if witches were after me. Of course, if Mr. Harling was at home, if his shadow stood out in the blind of the West Room, I did not go in, but turned and walked home by the long way, to the street, wondering what book I should read as I sat down with the two old people.

Starting point is 03:46:47 Such disappointments only gave greater zest of the nights when we affidged charades, or had a costume ball in the back parlor, when Sally always dressed like a boy. Francis taught us to dance that winter, and she said from the first lesson that Antio would make the best dancer among us. On Saturday night, Mrs. Harling used to play the old operas for us, Martha, Norma Rigoletto, telling us a story while she played. Every Saturday night was like a party. The parlor, the back parlor in the dining room were warm and brightly lighted, with comfortable

Starting point is 03:47:17 chairs and sofas, and gay pictures on the walls. One always felt an ease there. Antonia brought her sewing and sat with us. She was already beginning to make pretty close for herself. After the long winter evenings on the prairie, when Ambrosia's sudden silences in her mother's complaints, the Harlings' house seemed as she said like heaven to her. She was never too tired to make taffier chocolate cookies for us.

Starting point is 03:47:41 Is Sally whispered in her ear, or Charlie gave her three winks, Tony would rush into the kitchen and build a fire on the range in which she had already cooked three meals that day. While we sat in the kitchen waiting for the cookies to bake or the taffy to cool, Nina used to coax Antonia to tell her stories, about the cat that broke his leg, or how Yulka saved her little turkeys from drowning in the freshet, or about old Christmases and weddings in Bohemia.

Starting point is 03:48:06 Nina interrupted the stories about the crush vansibly, and in spite of our derision she cherished a belief that Christ was born in Bohemia a short time before the Shemurda's left that country. We all liked telling you stories. Her boys had a peculiarly engaging, quality. It was deep, a little husky, and when always heard the breath vibrating behind it. Everything she said seemed to come right out of her heart. One evening, when we were picking out kernels for walnut taffy, Tony told us a new story. Mrs. Harling, did you over hear about what

Starting point is 03:48:39 happened up in the Norwegian settlement last summer when I was thrashing there? We were at Iversons, and I was driving one of the grain wagons. Mrs. Harling came out and said, down among us. Could you throw the wheat into the bin yourself, Tony? She knew what heavy work it was. Yes, ma'am, I did. I could shovel just as fast that fat andern boy that drove the other wagon. One day it was just awful hot.

Starting point is 03:49:05 When we got back to the field from dinner, we took things kind of easy. The men put in the horses and got the machine going. An old Iverson was up on the deck cutting bands. I was sitting against a straw stack trying to get some shade. My wagon wasn't going out first. and somehow I felt the heat awful that day. The sun was so hot like I was going to burn the whole world up. After a while I see a man come and cross a stubble,

Starting point is 03:49:29 and when he got close I see it was a tramp. His toes stuck out of his shoes, and he hadn't shaved for a long while, and his ice were awful red and wild, like he had some sickness. He comes right up and begins to talk like he knows me already, he says. The ponds in this country's done got so low a man couldn't drown himself in one of them. I told him nobody wanted to drown them, themselves. But if we didn't have rain soon, we'd have to pump water for the cattle.

Starting point is 03:49:54 Oh, cattle, he says. Y'all take care of your cattle. Ain't you got no beer here? I told me now to go to the Bohemian for beer. Their Norwegians didn't have none when they thrashed. My God, he says. So it's Norwegians now, is it? I thought this was America. Then he goes up to the machine and yells out to old Iverson. Hello, partner, let me up there. I can cut bands and I'm tired of tramping. I won't go no farther. i try to make signs to ole cause i thought that man was crazy and might get the machine stopped up but old he was glad to get down out of the sun in shape it gets down your neck and sticks to you something awful when it's hot like that so old jumped down and called on to where the wagons were shade and the tramp got on the machine he cut bands all right for a few minutes and then mrs harling he waved his hand in me and jumped head first right into the thrash machine after that week i began to scream and the men run to stop the horses but the belt had sucked him down and by the time they got her stopped he was all beat and cut to pieces he was wedged in so tight it was a hard job to get him out and the machine ain't never worked right since was he clear dead tony we cried was he dead well i guess so there now nina's all upset we won't talk about it don't you cry nina no old tramp will get you while tony's here mrs harling spoke up sternly stopped

Starting point is 03:51:15 crying, Nina, or I'll always send you upstairs when Antonia tells us about the country. Did they never find out where he came from, Antonia? Never, ma'am. He hadn't been seen nowhere except the little town they'd call Conway. He'd try to get beer there, but there wasn't any saloon. Maybe he came on a freight, but the Brickman hadn't seen him. They couldn't find no letters nor nothin on him. Nothing but an old penknife in his pocket, and the wish went of a chicken wrapped up at a piece a paper and some poetry. Some poetry? we exclaimed.

Starting point is 03:51:49 I remember, said Francis. It was the old oaken bucket cut out of a newspaper and nearly worn out. O'Irison brought it into the office and showed it to me. Now wasn't that strange Mrs. Francis? Tony asked thoughtfully. What would anybody want to kill themselves in summer for? And thrash in time, too.

Starting point is 03:52:06 It's nice everywhere then. So it is Antonia, said Mrs. Harling heartily. Maybe I'll go home and help you thrash, next summer. Isn't that tapey nearly ready to eat? I've been smelling it a long while. There's a basic harmony between Antonia and her mistress. They had strong, independent nature, both of them. They knew what they liked and were not always trying to imitate other people. They loved children and animals and music, and rough play in digging in the earth. They like to prepare rich, hearty food, and to see people eat it, to make us soft, white beds

Starting point is 03:52:40 and to see youngsters asleep in them. They ridiculed conceited people, and were quick to help unfortunate ones. Deep down in each of them there's a kind of hardy devalty, a relish of life, not over-delicate, but very invigorating. I never tried to define it, but I was distinctly conscious of it. I could not imagine Antonia living for a week in any other house in Black Hawk, than the Harlanes. End of Chapter 6. Recording by Crystal Layton.

Starting point is 03:53:10 My Antenia by Willa Cather, Book 2, the hired girls. chapter seven winter lies too long in country towns hangs on until it is stale and shabby old and sullen on the farm the weather was the great fact and the men's affairs went on underneath it as the steams creep under the ice but in black hawk the scene of human life was spread out shrunken and pitched furson down to the bear stock through january and february i went to the river with the harlings on clear nights and we skated up to the big island and made bomb fires on the frozen sand. But by March, the ice was rough and choppy, and the snow on the river bluffs was gray and mournful looking. I was tired of school, tired of winter clothes, of rutted streets, of the dirty drifts and piles of cinders that had lain in the yard so long. There was only one break in the dreary monotony of that month. When Blind de Arnault, the Negro pianist, came to town. He gave a concert at the Opera House on Monday

Starting point is 03:54:17 night, and he and his manager spent Saturday and Sunday at our comfortable hotel. Mrs. Harling had known Dierno for years. She told Antonia that she had better go see Tiny that Saturday evening, as there would certainly be music at the boys' home. Saturday night, after supper, I ran downtown to the motel and slipped quietly into the parlor. The chairs and sofas were already occupied, and the air smelled pleasantly of cigar smoke. The parlor had once been two rooms, and the floor was sway-backed, where the partition had been cut away.

Starting point is 03:54:48 The wind from without made waves in the long carpet. A coal stove glowed at either end of the room, and the grand piano in the middle stood open. There was an atmosphere of unusual freedom about the house that night, for Mrs. Gardner had gone to Omaha for a week. Johnny had been having drinks with the guests until he was rather absent-minded. It was Mrs. Gardner who ran the business and looked after everything.

Starting point is 03:55:15 Her husband stood at the desk, and welcomed incoming travelers. He was a popular fellow, but no manager. Mrs. Gardner was admittedly the best-dressed woman in Blackhawk, drove the best horse, and had a smart trap and a little white and gold sleigh. She seemed indifferent to her possessions, was not half so solicitous about them as her friends were. She was tall, dark, severe, was something Indian-like and the rigid immobility of her face. her manner was cold and she talked little. Guests felt that they were receiving, not conferring, a favor when they stayed at her house. Even the smartest traveling men were flattered when

Starting point is 03:55:56 Mrs. Gardner stopped to chat with them for a moment. The patrons of the hotel were divided into two classes, those who had seen Mrs. Gardner's diamonds and those who had not. When I stole into the parlor, Anson Kurt Patrick, Marshall Fieldsman, was at the piano, playing airs from a musical comedy then running in Chicago. He was a dapper little Irish man, very vain, homely as a monkey, with friends everywhere, and a sweetheart in every port, like a sailor.

Starting point is 03:56:25 I did not know all the men who were sitting about, but I recognized a furniture salesman from Kansas City, a drug man, and Willie O'Reilly, who traveled for a jewelry house and sold musical instruments. The talk was all about good and bad hotels, actors and actresses, and musical protégés. I learned that Mrs. Gardner had gone to Omaha to hear Booth and Barrett, who were to play there next week,

Starting point is 03:56:50 and that Mary Anderson was having a great success in A Winter's Tale in London. The door from the office opened, and Johnny Gardner came in, directing Blind Arnault. He would never consent to be led. He was a heavy, bulky mulatto on short legs, and came tapping the floor in front of him with his gold-headed cane. his yellow face was lifted in the light with a show of white teeth all grinning and his shrunken papery eyelids lay motionless over his blind eyes good evening gentlemen no ladies here good evening gentlemen will we going to have a little music some of you gentlemen going to play for me this evening It was the soft, amiable negro voice, like those I remembered from early childhood, with the note of docile subservience in it. He had the negro head, too, almost no head at all, nothing behind the ears but folds of neck under clothes-clipped wool.

Starting point is 03:57:47 He would have been repulsive if his face had not been so kindly and happy. It was the happiest face I had seen since I left Virginia. He felt his way directly to the piano. The moment he sat down, I noticed the nervous infirmity of which Mrs. Harling had told me. When he was sitting or standing still, he swayed back and forth incessantly, like a rocking toy. At the piano, he swayed in time to the music, and when he was not playing, his body kept up this motion, like an empty mill grinding on. He found the petals and tried them, ran his yellow hands up and down the keys a few times, tinkling off scales, then turned to you. to the company.

Starting point is 03:58:30 She seems all right, gentlemen. Nothing happened to her since the last time I was here. Mrs. Gardner, she always has the piano tuned up for me before I come. Now, gentlemen, I expect you've all got grand voices. Seems like we might have some good old plantation songs tonight. The men gathered round him as he began to play my old Kentucky home. They sang one negro melody after another, while the mulatto sat rocking himself, his head thrown back, his yellow-faced,

Starting point is 03:58:58 lifted, its shriveled eyelids, never fluttering. He was born in the far south on the Darno plantation, where the spirit, if not the fact, of slavery, persisted. When he was three weeks old, he had an illness which left him totally blind. And as soon as he was old enough to sit up alone and toddle about, another affliction, the nervous motion of his body became apparent. His mother, a buxom young negro wench who was a laundress for the Darnoes, concluded that her blind baby was not right in his head and she was ashamed of him. She loved him devotedly, but he was so ugly with his sunken eyes and his fidgets that she hid him away from people. All the dainties she brought down from the big house were for the blind child, and she beat

Starting point is 03:59:45 and cuffed her other children whenever she found them teasing him, or trying to get his chicken bone away from him. He began to talk early, remembering everything he heard, and his mammy said he wasn't all wrong. She named him Samson, because he was blind, but on the plantation he was known as Yellow Martha's simple child. He was docile and obedient, but when he was six years old,

Starting point is 04:00:08 he began to run away from home, always taking the same direction. He felt his way through the lilacs, along the boxwood hedge, up to the south wing of the big house, where Mrs. Nellie Darno practiced the piano every morning. This angered his mother more than anything else

Starting point is 04:00:24 he could have done. She was so shamed of his ugliness that she couldn't bear to have white folks look at him whenever she caught him slipping away from the cabin she whipped him unmercifully and told him what dreadful things old mr darno would do to him if he ever found him near the big house but the next time samson had a chance he ran away again if mrs darno stopped practicing for a moment and went towards the window she saw this hideous little pickaninny dressed in an old piece of sacking standing in the open sea face between the hollyhock rose, his body rocking automatically, his blind face lifted to the sun and wearing an expression of idiotic rapture. Often, she was tempted to tell Martha that the child must be kept at home, but somehow the memory of his foolish, happy face deterred her. She remembered that his sense of hearing was all he had, though it did not occur to her that he might have more of it than other children. One day, Samson was standing thus while Miss Nellie was playing her lesson to her music master. The windows were open. He heard them get up,

Starting point is 04:01:31 he heard them get up from the piano, talk a little while, and then leave the room. He heard the door close after them. He crept up the front windows and stuck his head in. There was no one there. He could always detect the presence of anyone in a room. He put one foot over the windowsill and straddled it. His mother had told him over and over how his master would give him to the big Mastiff if he ever found him meddling. Samson had got too near the Mastiff's kennel once, and had felt his terrible breath on his face. He thought about that, but he pulled in his other foot. Through the dark he found his way to the thing, to its mouth.

Starting point is 04:02:11 He touched it softly, and it answered softly, kindly. He shivered and stood still. Then he began to feel it all over, ran his fingertips along the slippery sides, embraced the carved legs, tried to get some conception of its shape and size, of the space it occupied in primeval night. It was cold and hard, and like nothing else in his black universe. He went back to its mouth, began at one end of the keyboard, and felt his way down into the mellow thunder as far as he could go. He seemed to know that it must be done with the fingers, and not with the fists or the feet. He approached this highly artificial instrument through a mere instinct,

Starting point is 04:02:54 and coupled himself to it, as if he knew it was to piece him out and make a whole creature of him. After he had tried all of the sounds, he began to finger out passages from things Miss Nellie had been practicing, passages that were already his, that lay under the bones of his pinched conical little skull, definite as animal desires. The door opened. Miss Nellie and her music master stood behind it, but Blind Samson, who was so sensitive to presences, did not know they were there. He was feeling out the pattern that lay already made on the big and little keys. When he paused for a moment, because the sound was wrong and he wanted another, Miss Nellie spoke softly. He whirled about in a spasm of terror, leaped forward in the dark, struck his head on the open window and fell screaming and bleeding to the floor.

Starting point is 04:03:43 He had what his mother called a fit. The doctor came and gave him opium. When Sampson was well again, his young mistress led him back to the piano. Several teachers experimented with him. They found he had absolute pitch and a remarkable memory. As a very young child, he could repeat, after a fashion, any composition that was played for him. No matter how many wrong notes he struck,

Starting point is 04:04:06 he never lost the intention of the passage. He brought the substance of it across by irregular and astonishing means. He wore his teachers out. He could never learn like other people, never acquired any finish. He was always a negro prodigy who, played barbarously and wonderfully. As piano playing, it was perhaps abominable, but as music it was something real, vitalized by a sense of rhythm that was stronger than his other physical senses, that had not only filled his dark mind, but worried his body incessantly. To hear him, to watch him,

Starting point is 04:04:42 was to see a negro enjoying himself as only a negro can. It was as if all the agreeable sensations possible to creatures of flesh and blood were heaped up on those black and white keys, and he were gloating over them and trickling them through his yellow fingers. In the middle of a crashing waltz, Darno suddenly began to play softly, and, turning to one of the men who stood behind him, whispered, Somebody dancing in there. He jerked his bullet head towards the dining room. I hear little feet.

Starting point is 04:05:14 Girls, I spect. Anson Kirkpatrick mounted the chair and peeped over the transatlantic. Brincing down, he wrenched open the doors and ran out into the dining room. Tiny and Lena, Antonia, and Mary Dusak were waltzing in the middle of the floor. They separated and fled towards the kitchen, giggling. Kirkpatrick caught Tiny by the elbows. What's the matter with you girls? Dancin out here by yourselves when there's a room full of lonesome men on the other side of the partition.

Starting point is 04:05:41 Introduce me to your friends, Tiny. The girls still laughing, were trying to escape. Tiny looked alarmed. "'Mrs. Gardiner wouldn't like it,' she protested. "'She'd be awful mad if you was to come out here and dance with us. "'Mrs. Gardner's an Omaha, girl. "'Now you're Lena, aren't you? "'And you're Tony and you're Mary.

Starting point is 04:06:03 "'Have I got you all straight?' "'O. Riley and the others began to pile the chairs on the tables. "'Johnny Gardiner ran in from the office. "'Easy, boys, easy,' he entreated them. "'You'll wake the cook, and there'll be the devil to pay for me. "'She won't hear the mute. music, but she'll be down the minute anything's moved in the dining room. Oh, what do you care, Johnny?

Starting point is 04:06:24 Fire the cook and wire Molly to bring another. Come along. Nobody'll tell tales. Johnny shook his head. Suffect, boys, he said confidently. If I take a drink in Blackhawk, Molly knows it in Alabama. His guests laughed and slapped him on the shoulders. Oh, we'll make it all right with Molly. Get your back up, Johnny.

Starting point is 04:06:45 Molly was Mrs. Gardner's name, of course. Molly Bond was painted in large blue letters in the glossy white side of the hotel bus, and Molly was engraved inside Johnny's ring and on his watchcase, doubtless on his heart, too. He was an affectionate little man, and he thought his wife, a wonderful woman. He knew that without her he would hardly be more than a clerk in some other man's hotel. At a word from Carpatrick, Darnot spreaded himself out over the piano, and began to draw the dance music out of it, while the perspiration shone on his short wool and on his uplifted face,

Starting point is 04:07:22 he looked like some glistening African god of pleasure full of strong, savage blood. Whenever the dancers paused to change partners or to catch breath, he would boom out softly. Who's that going back on me? One of these city gentlemen, I bet. Now you girls, you ain't going to let that floor get cold. Antonia seemed frightened at first, and kept looking questioningly at Lena and over-dust.

Starting point is 04:07:47 and tiny over Willie O'Reilly's shoulder. Tiny soda ball was trim and slender, with lively little feet and pretty ankles. She wore her dress very short. She was quicker in speech, lighter in movement and manner than the other girls. Mary Dusak was broad and brown of countenance, slightly marked by smallpox, but handsome for all that. She had beautiful chestnut hair, coils of it. Her forehead was low and smooth, and her commanding dark eyes regarded the world indifferently and fearlessly. She looked bold and resourceful and unscrupulous, and she was all of these. They were handsome girls, had the fresh color in their country upbringing, and in their eyes, that brilliancy, which is called, by no metaphor, alas, the light of youth.

Starting point is 04:08:34 Darnot played until his manager came and shut the piano. Before he left us, he showed us his gold watch, which struck the hours, and a topaz ring, given him by some Russian nobleman who delighted in Negro melodies, and had heard Darno play in New Orleans. At last he tapped his way upstairs after bowing to everybody docile and happy. I walked home with Antonia. We were so excited that we dreaded to go to bed.

Starting point is 04:09:01 We lingered a long while at the Harling's Gate whispering in the cold until the restlessness was slowly chilled out of us. End of Chapter 7. Recording by Nikki Sullivan, Chicago. My Antonia by Willa Cather. Book 2. hired girls. Chapter 8 The Harling children and I were never happier, never felt more contented and secure than in the weeks of spring which broke that long winter. We were out all day in the

Starting point is 04:09:37 thin sunshine, helping Mrs. Harling and Tony break the ground and plant the garden, dig around the orchard trees, tie up the vines, and clip the hedges. Every morning before I was up, I could hear Tony singing in the garden rose. After the apple and cherry trees broke into bloom, we ran around them. hunting for the new nests the birds were building throwing clods at each other and playing hide-and-seek with nina yet the summer which was to change everything was coming nearer every day when boys and girls are growing up life can't stand still not even in the quietest of country towns and they have to grow up whether they will or know that is what their elders are always forgetting it must have been june for mrs harling and antonia were preserving cherries and i saw that is what their elders are always forgetting it must have been june for mrs harling and antonia were preserving cherries and i stopped one morning to tell them that a dancing pavilion had come to town. I had seen two drays hauling the canvas and painted poles up from the depot. That afternoon, three cheerful-looking Italians strode about Black Hawk, looking at everything, and with them was a dark, stout woman

Starting point is 04:10:41 who wore a long gold-watched chain around her neck and carried a black-laced parasol. They seemed especially interested in children and vacant lots. When I overtook them and stopped to say a word, I found them affable and confiding. They told me they worked in Kansas City in the winter, and in the summer they went among the farming towns with their tent and taught dancing. When business fell off in one place, they moved to another. The dancing pavilion was put up near the Danish laundry, on a vacant lot surrounded by tall arching cottonwood trees. It was very much like a merry-go-round tent, with open sides and gray flags flying from the poles. Before the week was open, all the ambitious mothers were sending their children to the afternoon dancing class at three o'clock one met little girls in white dresses and little boys in the round-colored shirts of the time hurrying along the sidewalk on their way to the tent

Starting point is 04:11:39 mrs vanny received them at the entrance always dressed in lavender and a great deal of black lace her important watch-chain lying on her bosom she wore her hair on the top of her head built up in a black tower with red coral combs When she smiled, she showed two rows of strong, crooked yellow teeth. She taught the little children herself, and her husband, the harpist, taught the older ones. Often the mothers brought their fancy work and sat on the shady side of the tent during the lesson. The popcorn man wheeled his glass wagon under the big cottonwood by the door and lounged in the sun, sure of a good trade when dancing was over. Mr. Jensen, the Danish laundromer man, used to bring a chair from his porch and sit out in the grass plot.

Starting point is 04:12:26 Some ragged little boys from the depot sold pop and iced lemonade under a white umbrella at the corner, and made faces at the spruce youngsters who came to dance. The vacant lot soon became the most cheerful place in town. Even on the hottest afternoons the cottonwoods made a rustling shade, and the air smelled of popcorn and melted butter, and bouncing bets wilting in the sun. Those hardy flowers had run away from the laundromance garden, and the grass in the middle of the lot was pink with them.

Starting point is 04:12:56 The Vannis kept exemplary order and closed every evening at the hour suggested by the city council. When Mrs. Vanny gave the signal, and the harp struck up home sweet home, all Blackhawk knew it was ten o'clock. You could set your watch by that tune as confidently as by the roundhouse whistle. At last there was something to do in those long, empty summer evenings, when the married people sat like image on the front porches, and the girls and boys tramped and tramped the board sidewalks, northward to the edge of the open prairie, south to the depot, then back again to the post office, the ice cream parlor, the butcher shop. Now there was a place where girls could wear their new dresses, and where one could laugh aloud

Starting point is 04:13:41 without being reproved by the ensuing silence. That silence seemed to ooze out of the ground, to hang under the foliage of the black maple trees with the bats and shadows. Now it was broken by the light-hearted sounds. First, the deep purring of Mr. Vanny's harp came in silvery ripples through the blackness of the dusky-smelling night. Then the violins fell in. One of them was almost like a flute. They called so archly, so seductively, that our feet hurried towards the tent of themselves. Why hadn't we had a tent before? Dancing became popular now, just as roller-skating had been the summer before. The progressive Uker Club arranged with the Vannies for the exclusive use of the floor on Tuesday and Friday nights.

Starting point is 04:14:28 At other times, anyone could dance who paid his money and was orderly. The railroad men, the roundhouse mechanics, the delivery boys, the ace man, the farmhands who lived near enough to ride into town after the day's work was over. I never missed a Saturday night dance. The tent was open until midnight then. The country boys came in from the farms, eight and ten miles. miles away, and all the country girls were on the floor. Antonia and Lena and Tiny and the Danish laundry girls and their friends.

Starting point is 04:14:59 I was not the only boy who found these dances gayer than the others. The young men who belonged to the Progressive Uker Club used to drop in late and risk a tiff with their sweethearts and general condemnation for a waltz with the hired girls. End of Chapter 8, recording by Nikki Sullivan, Chicago. Book 2, Chapter 9 of My Antonia This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain.

Starting point is 04:15:36 For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. 9. There was a curious social situation in Blackhawk. All the young men felt the attraction of the fine, well set up, country girls who had come to town to earn a living, and in nearly every case, to help the father struggle out of debt or to make it possible for the younger children of the family to go to school.

Starting point is 04:16:02 Those girls had grown up in the first bitter, hard times, and had got little schooling themselves. But the younger brothers and sisters, for whom they had made such sacrifices and to have had advantages, never seemed to me when I meet them now half as interesting or as well educated. The older girls, who helped to break up the wild sod, learned so much from life, from poverty, from their mothers and grandmothers. They had all, like Antonia, been nearly awakened and made observant by coming at a tender age from an old country to a new. I can remember a score of these country girls who were in service in Blackhawk during the few years I lived there, and I can remember something unusual and engaging about each of them. Physically they were almost

Starting point is 04:16:49 a race apart, and out-of-door work had given them a vigor which, when they got over their first shyness coming to town, developed into a positive carriage and freedom of movement, and made them conspicuous among Black Hawk women. That was before the day of high school athletics. Girls who had to walk more than half a mile to school were pitied. There was not a tennis court in the town. Physical exercise was thought rather inelegant for the daughters of well-to-do families. Some of the high school girls were jolly and pretty, but they stayed indoors in winter because of the cold, and in summer, because of the heat. When one danced with them, their bodies never moved inside their clothes. Their muscles seemed to ask but one thing, not to be disturbed. I remember those girls merely as

Starting point is 04:17:37 faces in the schoolroom, gay and rosy, or listless and dull, cut off below the shoulders, like cherubs by the ink-smeared tops of the high desks that were surely put there to make us round-shouldered and hollow-chested. The daughters of Black Hawk merchants had a confident uninquiring belief that they were refined and that the country girls who worked out were not the american farmers in our county were quite as hard-pressed as their neighbors from other countries all alike had come to nebraska with little capital and no knowledge of the soil they must subdue all had borrowed money on their land but no matter in what straits the pennsylvania or virginian found himself he would not let his daughters go out into service

Starting point is 04:18:25 Unless his girls could teach at a country school, they sat at home in poverty. The Bohemian and Scandinavian girls could not get positions as teachers because they had had no opportunity to learn the language. Determined to help in the struggle to clear the homestead from debt, they had no alternative but to go into service. Some of them, after they came to town, remained as serious and as discreet in behavior as they had been. when they had plowed and herded on their father's farm. Others, like the three Bohemian Marys, tried to make up for the years of youth they had lost. But every one of them did what she had set out to do

Starting point is 04:19:08 and sent home those hard-earned dollars. The girls I knew were always helping to pay for plows and reapers, brood sows, or steers to fatten. One result of this family solidarity was that the foreign farmers in our county were the first to become prosperous. After the fathers were out of debt, the daughters married the sons of neighbors,

Starting point is 04:19:31 usually of like nationality, and the girls who once worked in Black Hawk kitchens are today managing big farms and fine families of their own. Their children are better off than the children of the town women they used to serve. I thought the attitude of the town people towards these girls very stupid. If I told my schoolmates that Lena Lindgaard's grandfather was a clergyman, and much respected in Norway, they looked at me blankly. What did it matter? All foreigners were ignorant people who couldn't speak English. There was not a man in Black Hawk, who had the intelligence or cultivation,

Starting point is 04:20:11 much less the personal distinction of Antonia's father. Yet people saw no difference between her and the three Marys. They were all Bohemians, all hired girls. I always knew I should live long enough to see my country, girls come into their own, and I have. Today, the best that a harassed Black Hawk merchant can hope for is to sell provisions and farm machinery and automobiles to the rich farms, where that first crop of stalwart, Bohemian and Scandinavian girls are now the mistresses.

Starting point is 04:20:46 The Black Hawk boys looked forward to marrying Black Hawk girls, and living in a brand-new little house with best chairs that must not be sat upon and hand-painted china that must not be used. But sometimes, a young fellow would look up from his ledger, or out through the grating of his father's bank, and let his eyes follow Lena Lingard as she passed the window with her slow, undulating walk, or tiny soda-ball tripping by in her short skirt and striped stockings. The country girls were considered a menace to the social order. Their beauty shone out too boldly against a conventional background. But anxious mothers need have felt no alarm.

Starting point is 04:21:28 They mistook the metal of their sons. The respect for respectability was stronger than any desire in Black Hawk youth. Our young man of position was like the son of a royal house. The boy who swept out his office or drove his delivery wagon might frolic with the jolly country girls, but he himself must sit all evening in a plush parlor, where conversation dragged so perceptibly that the father often came in and made blundering efforts to warm up the atmosphere. On his way home from his dull call, he would perhaps meet Tony and Lena, coming along the sidewalk whispering to each other, or the three Bohemian Marys in their long,

Starting point is 04:22:09 plush coats and caps, comporting themselves with a dignity that only made their eventful histories the more piquant. If he went to the hotel to see a traveling man on business, there was tiny, arching her shoulders at him like a kitten. If he went into the laundry to get his collars, there were the four Danish girls, smiling up from their ironing boards with their white throats and their pink cheeks. The three Marys were the heroines

Starting point is 04:22:36 of a cycle of scandalous stories, which the old men were fond of relating as they stood about the cigar stand in the drugstore. Mary Dusak had been housekeeper for a bachelor rancher from Boston, and after several years in his service, She was forced to retire from the world for a short time. Later she came back to town to take the place of her friend,

Starting point is 04:22:59 Mary's Faboda, who was similarly embarrassed. The three Marys were considered as dangerous as high explosives to have about the kitchen. Yet they were such good cooks and such admirable housekeepers that they never had to look for a place. The Vanis tent brought the town boys and the country girls together on neutral ground. Sylvester Lovett, who was cashed, cheer in his father's bank, always found his way to the tent on Saturday night. He took all the

Starting point is 04:23:28 dances Lena Lingard would give him, and even grew bold enough to walk home with her. If his sisters or their friends happened to be among the onlookers on popular nights, Sylvester stood back in the shadow under the cottonwood trees, smoking and watching Lena with a harassed expression. Several times, I stumbled upon him there in the dark, and I felt rather sorry for him. He reminded me of Ole Benson, who used to sit on the drawside and watch Lena herd her cattle. Later in the summer, when Lena went home for a week to visit her mother, I heard from Antonia that young Lovett drove all the way out there to see her and took her buggy riding. In my ingenuousness, I hoped that Sylvester would marry Lena, and thus give all the country girls a better

Starting point is 04:24:16 position in the town. Sylvester dallied about Lena until he began to make her to make her mistakes in his work, had to stay at the bank, until after dark to make his books balance. He was daft about her, and everyone knew it. To escape from his predicament, he ran away with a widow, six years older than himself, who owned a half-section. This remedy worked apparently. He never looked at Lena again, nor lifted his eyes as he ceremoniously tipped his hat when he happened to meet her on the sidewalk. So that was what they were like, I thought. These white-handed, high-corpses, colored clerks and bookkeepers. I used to glare at young Levitt from a distance and only wished I had some way of showing my contempt for him. End of Chapter 9. Book 2 Chapter 10 of My Antonia. This is a Libravox recording.

Starting point is 04:25:20 All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Recording by Katie Gibney, Arkansas, November 2007. My Antonia by Willa Cather, Book 2, the Hired Girls, Chapter 10 It was at the Vanus tent that Antonia was discovered. Hitherto she had been looked upon more as a ward of the Harlings than as one of the hired girls. She had lived in their house and yard and garden. Her thoughts never seemed to stray outside that little kingdom. But after the tent came to town, she began to go about with Tiny and Lena,

Starting point is 04:26:04 and their friends. The Vanus often said that Antonia was the best dancer of them all. I sometimes heard murmurs in the crowd outside the pavilion that Mrs. Harling would soon have her hands full with that girl. The young men began to joke with each other about the Harlings' Tony as they did about the Marshall's Anna or the Gardner's Tiny. Antonia talked and thought of nothing but the tent. She hummed the dance tunes all day. When supper was late, she hurried with her dishes, dropped and smashed them in her excitement. At the first call of the music, she became irresponsible. If she hadn't time to dress, she merely flung off her apron and shot out of the kitchen door. Sometimes I went with her, the moment the lighted tent came into view she would break into a run like a boy. There were always partners waiting for her. She began to dance before she got her breakfast. She began to dance before she got her breakfast.

Starting point is 04:27:01 Antonia's success at the tent had its consequences. The ice men lingered too long now when he came into the covered porch to fill the refrigerator. The delivery boys hung about the kitchen when they brought the groceries. Young farmers who were in town for Saturday came tramping through the yard to the back door to engage dances or to invite Tony to parties and picnics. Lena and Norwegian Anna dropped in to help her with her work, so that she could get away early. The boys who brought her home after the dances

Starting point is 04:27:36 sometimes laughed at the back gate and wakened Mr. Harling from his first sleep. A crisis was inevitable. One Saturday night, Mr. Harling had gone down to the cellar for beer. As he came up the stairs in the dark, he heard scuffling on the back porch and then the sound of a vigorous slap. He looked out through the side door

Starting point is 04:27:57 in time to see a pair of long legs vaulting over the picket fence. Antonio was standing there, angry and excited. Young Harry Payne, who was to marry his employer's daughter on Monday, had come to the tent with a crowd of friends and danced all evening. Afterward, he begged Antonia to let him walk home with her. She said she supposed he was a nice young man, as he was one of Miss Francis's friends, and she didn't mind.

Starting point is 04:28:25 On the back porch he tried to kiss her, and when she protested, because he was going to be married on Monday, He caught her and kissed her until she got one hand free and slapped him. Mr. Harling put his beer bottles down on the table. This is what I've been expecting, Antonia. You've been going with girls who have a reputation for being free and easy, and now you've got the same reputation. I won't have this and that fellow tramping about my backyard all the time.

Starting point is 04:28:53 This is the end of it, tonight. It stops, short. You can quit going to these dances or you can hunt another place. it over. The next morning when Mrs. Harling and Francis tried to reason with Antonia, they found her agitated but determined. "'Stop going to the tent,' she panted. "'I wouldn't think of it for a minute. My own father couldn't make me stop. Mr. Harling ain't my boss outside my work. I won't give up my friends either. The boys I go with are nice fellows. I thought Mr. Payne was all right, too, because he used to come here. I guess I gave him a red face

Starting point is 04:29:29 for his wedding all right, she blazed out indignantly. You'll have to do one thing or the other, Antonia, Mrs. Harling told her decidedly. I can't go back on what Mr. Harling has said. This is his house. Then I'll just leave, Mrs. Harling. Lena's been wanting me to get a place closer to her for a long while. Mary's Fobita's going away from the Cutters to work at the hotel, and I can have her place. Mrs. Harling rose from her chair.

Starting point is 04:29:56 Antonia, if you go to the Cutters to work, you cannot come back to this house again. You know what that man is. It will be the ruin of you. Tony snatched up the tea kettle and began to pour boiling water over the glasses, laughing excitedly. Oh, I can take care of myself. I'm a lot stronger than Cutter is. They pay $4 there and there's no children. The work's nothing. I can have every evening and be out a lot in the afternoons. I thought you liked children, Tony. What's come over you? I don't know. Something has. Antonia tossed her head and set her jaw. A girl like me has got to take her good times when she can. Maybe there won't be any tent next year. I guess I want to have my fling, like the other girls. Mrs. Harling gave a short, harsh laugh. If you go to work for the cutters, you're likely to have a fling that you won't get up from in a hurry.

Starting point is 04:30:51 Francis said when she told Grandmother and Me about this scene that every pan and plate and cup on the shelves trembled when her mother walked out of the kitchen. Mrs. Harling declared bitterly that she wished she had never let herself get fond of Antonia. End of Chapter 10. Book 2, Chapter 11 of My Antonia. This is a Liprovoc's recording. All Liprovoc's recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit you. Visit Liprovox.org. Recording by Katie Gibney, Arkansas, December 2007.

Starting point is 04:31:38 My Antonia, by Willa Cather, Book 2, The Hired Girls, Chapter 11. Wick Cutter was the money lender who had fleeced poor Russian Peter. When a farmer once got into the habit of going to Cutter, it was like gambling or the lottery. In an hour of discouragement, he went back. Cutter's first name was Wycliff, and he liked to talk about his pocket. us bringing up. He contributed regularly to the Protestant churches, for sentiment's sake, as he said with a flourish of the hand. He came from a town in Iowa, where there were a great many Swedes, and could speak a little Swedish which gave him a great advantage with the early Scandinavian

Starting point is 04:32:18 settlers. In every frontier settlement there are men who have come there to escape restraint. Cutter was one of the fast set of Black Hawk businessmen. He was an inveterate gambler, though a poor loser. When we saw a light burning in his office late at night, we knew that a game of poker was going on. Cutter boasted that he never drank anything stronger than Sherry, and he said he got his start in life by saving the money that other young men spent for cigars. He was full of moral maxims for boys.

Starting point is 04:32:50 When he came to our house on business, he quoted, Poor Richard's almanac to me, and told me he was delighted to find a town boy who could milk a cow. He was particularly affable to grandmother, and whenever they met, he would begin at once to talk about the good old times and simple living. I detested his pink, bald head, and his yellow whiskers, always soft and glistening. It was said he brushed them every night as a woman does her hair. His white teeth looked factory-made. His skin was red and rough, as if from perpetual sunburn.

Starting point is 04:33:24 He often went away to hot springs to take mud baths. He was notoriously dissolute with women. Two Swedish girls who had lived in his house were the worst for the experience. One of them he had taken to Omaha and established in the business for which he had fitted her. He still visited her. Cutter lived in a state of perpetual warfare with his wife, and yet, apparently, they never thought of separating. They dwelt in a fussy scrollwork house, painted white and buried in thick evergreens, with a fussy white fence and barn.

Starting point is 04:33:56 Cutter thought he knew a great deal about horses and usually had a colt he was training for the track. On Sunday mornings, one could see him out at the fairgrounds, speeding around the racecourse in his trotting buggy, wearing yellow gloves and a black and white check traveling cap, his whiskers blowing back in the breeze. If there were any boys about, Cutter would offer one of them a quarter to hold the stopwatch

Starting point is 04:34:20 and then drive off, saying he had no change and would fix it up next time. No one could cut his life. or wash his buggy to suit him. He was so fastidious and prim about his place that a boy would go to a good deal of trouble to throw a dead cat into his backyard or to dump a sack full of tin cans in his alley. It was a peculiar combination of old maitishness and licentiousness that made Cutter seem so despicable. He had certainly met his match when he married Mrs. Cutter. She was a terrifying-looking person, almost a giantess in height, raw-boned with iron-gray hair,

Starting point is 04:34:56 a face always flushed and prominent hysterical eyes. When she meant to be entertaining and agreeable, she nodded her head incessantly and snapped her eyes at one. Her teeth were long and curved, like a horse's. People said babies always cried if she smiled at them. Her face had a kind of fascination for me. It was the very color and shape of anger. There was a gleam of something akin to insanity in her full intense eyes.

Starting point is 04:35:23 She was formal in manner and made calls in rustling, steel-gray brocades and a tall bonnet with bristling eye grets. Mrs. Cutter painted china so assiduously that even her washbowls and pitchers and her husband's shaving mug were covered with violets and lilies. Once when Cutter was exhibiting some of his wife's china to a collar, he dropped a piece. Mrs. Cutter put a handkerchief to her lips as if she were going to faint and said grandly. Mr. Cutter, you have broken all the commandments, spare the finger bowls. They quarreled from the moment Cutter came into the house until they went to bed at night,

Starting point is 04:36:01 and their hired girls reported these scenes to the town at large. Mrs. Cutter had several times cut paragraphs about unfaithful husbands out of the newspapers, and mailed them to Cutter in a disguised handwriting. Cutter would come home at noon, find the mutilated journal in the paper rack, and triumphantly fit the clipping into the space from which it had been cut. Those two could quarrel all morning about whether he ought to put on his seat, heavy or his light underwear, and all evening about whether he had taken cold or not. The Cutters had major as well as minor subjects for dispute. The chief of these was the question

Starting point is 04:36:38 of inheritance. Mrs. Cutter told her husband it was plainly his fault they had no children. He insisted that Mrs. Cutter had purposely remained childless, with the determination to outlive him and to share his property with her people whom he detested. To this she would reply that unless he changed his mode of life, she would certainly outlive him. After listening to her insinuation about his physical soundness, Cutter would resume his dumbbell practice for a month, or rise daily at the hour when his wife most liked to sleep, dress noisily, and drive out to the track with his trotting horse. Once when they had quarreled about household expenses, Mrs. Cutter put on her brocade and went among their friends soliciting orders for painted China, saying that Mr. Cutter

Starting point is 04:37:24 had compelled her to live by her brush. Cutter wasn't shamed as she had expected. He was delighted. Cutter often threatened to chop down the cedar trees, which half buried the house. His wife declared she would leave him if she were stripped of the privacy, which she felt these trees afforded her. That was his opportunity, surely, but he never cut down the trees. The cutters seemed to find their relations to each other interesting and stimulating, and certainly the rest of us found them so. Wick Cutter was different from any other rascal I have ever known, but I have found Mrs. Cutters all over the world, sometimes founding new religions, sometimes being forcibly fed, easily recognizable, even when superficially tamed.

Starting point is 04:38:08 End of Chapter 11. Book 2, Chapter 12 of My Antonia This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Recording by Katie Gibney, Arkansas, December 2007. My Antonia by Willa Cather, Book 2, the Hired Girls, Chapter 12. After Antonia went to live with the Cutters, she seemed to care about nothing but picnics and parties and having a good

Starting point is 04:38:53 time. When she was not going to a dance, she sewed until midnight. Her new clothes were the subject of caustic comment. Under Lena's direction, she copied Mrs. Gardner's new party dress, and Mrs. Smith's street costume so ingeniously in cheap materials that those ladies were greatly annoyed, and Mrs. Cutter, who was jealous of them, was secretly pleased. Tony wore gloves now, and high-heeled shoes and feathered bonnets, and she went downtown nearly every afternoon with Tiny and Lena and the Marshall's Norwegian Anna. We high school boys used to linger on the playground at the afternoon recess to watch them as they came tripping down the hill along the board's sidewalk two and two. They were growing prettier every day, but as they passed

Starting point is 04:39:41 us, I used to think with pride that Antonia, like Snow White in the fairy tale, was still fairest of them all. Being a senior now, I got away from school early. Sometimes I overtook the girls downtown and coaxed them into the ice cream parlor, where they would sit chattering and laughing, telling me all the news from the country. I remember how angry tiny solderball made me one afternoon. She declared she had heard grandmother was going to make a Baptist preacher of me. I guess you'll have to stop dancing and wear a white necktive in. Won't he look funny girls? Lena laughed. You'll have to hurry up, Jim. If you're going to be a preacher, I want you to marry me. You must promise to marry us all and then baptize the babies.

Starting point is 04:40:25 Norwegian Anna, always dignified, looked at her reprovingly. Baptists don't believe in christening babies, do they, Jim? I told her I didn't know what they believed, and didn't care, and that I certainly wasn't going to be a preacher. That's too bad, Tiny Simpered. She was in a teasing mood. You'd make such a good one. You're so studious.

Starting point is 04:40:46 Maybe you'd like to be a professor. You used to teach Tony, didn't you? Antonia broke in. I've set my heart on Jim being a doctor. You'd be good with sick people, Jim. Your grandmother's trained you up so nice. My papa always said you were an awful smart boy. I said I was going to be whatever I pleased. Won't you be surprised, Miss Tiny, if I turn out to be a regular devil of a fellow?

Starting point is 04:41:11 They laughed until a glance from Norwegian Anna checked them. The high school principal had just come into the front part of the shop to buy bread for supper. Anna knew the whisper was going about that I was a sly one. people said there must be something queer about a boy who showed no interest in girls of his own age, but who could be lively enough when he was with Tony and Lena or the Three Mary's. The enthusiasm for the dance, which the Vanus had kindled, did not at once die out. After the tent left town, the Eukr Club became the Owl Club and gave dances in the Masonic Hall once a week. I was invited to join, but declined.

Starting point is 04:41:49 I was moody and restless that winter, and time. tired of the people I saw every day. Charlie Harling was already at Annapolis, while I was still sitting in Black Hawk, answering to my name at Roll Call every morning, rising from my desk at the sound of a bell, and marching out like the grammar school children. Mrs. Harling was a little cool toward me

Starting point is 04:42:10 because I continued to champion Antonia. What was there for me to do after supper? Usually I had learned the next day's lessons by the time I left the school building, and I couldn't sit still and read forever. In the evening I used to prowl about, hunting for diversion. There lay the familiar streets, frozen with snow or liquid with mud. They led to the houses of good people who were putting the babies to bed, or simply sitting still before the parlor stove, digesting their supper.

Starting point is 04:42:42 Black Hawk had two saloons. One of them was admitted, even by the church people, to be as respectable as a saloon could be. Hansom Anton Jelinek, who had rented his homestead and come to town, was the proprietor. In his saloon there were long tables where the bohemian and German farmers could eat the lunches they brought from home while they drank their beer. Jelinek kept rye bread on hand and smoked fish and strong imported cheeses to please the foreign palate. I like to drop into his bar room and listen to the talk. But one day he overtook me on the street and clapped me on the shoulder. Jim, he said, I am good friends with you and I always like to see you. But you know how the church people think about saloons. Your grandpa has always treated me fine and I don't like to have

Starting point is 04:43:32 you come into my place because I know he don't like it and it puts me in bad with him. So I was shut out of that. One could hang about the drug store and listen to the old men who sat there every evening, talking politics and telling raw stories. One could go to the cigar factory and chat with the old German who raised canaries for sale and look at his stuffed birds. But whatever you began with him, the talk went back to taxidermy. There was the depot, of course. I often went down to see the night train come in, and afterwards sat a while with the disconsolate tolographer, who was always hoping to be transferred into Omaha or Denver, where there was some life. He was sure to bring out his pictures of actresses and dancers. He got them with cigarette coupons,

Starting point is 04:44:19 and nearly smoked himself to death to possess these desired forms and faces. For a change, one could talk to the station agent, but he was another malcontent, spent all his spare time writing letters to officials requesting a transfer. He wanted to get back to Wyoming where he could go trout fishing on Sundays. He used to say, there was nothing in life for him but trout streams, ever since he'd lost his twins. These were the distractions I had to choose from. There were no other lights burning downtown after nine o'clock. On starlight nights I used to pace up and down those long cold streets,

Starting point is 04:44:57 scowling at the little sleeping houses on either side, with their storm windows and covered-back porches. They were flimsy shelters, most of them poorly built of light wood, with spindle porch posts horribly mutilated by the turning lathe. Yet for all their frailness, how much jealousy and envy and unhappiness some of them managed to contain. The life that went on in them seemed to me made up of evasions and negations. Shifts to save cooking, to save washing and cleaning, devices to propitiate the tongue of gossip. This guarded mode of existence was like living under a tyranny.

Starting point is 04:45:35 People's speech, their voices, their very glances became furtive and repressed. Every individual taste, every individual taste, every night. natural appetite was bridled by caution. The people asleep in those houses, I thought, tried to live like the mice in their own kitchens, to make no noise, to leave no trace, to slip over the surface of things in the dark. The growing piles of ashes and cinders in the backyards were the only evidence that the wasteful, consuming process of life went on at all. On Tuesday nights the Owl Club danced, then there was a little stir in the streets, and here and there one could see a lighted window until midnight, but the next night all was dark again.

Starting point is 04:46:18 After I refused to join the Owls, as they were called, I made a bold resolve to go to the Saturday night dances at Fireman's Hall. I knew it would be useless to acquaint my elders with any such plan. Grandfather didn't approve of dancing anyway. He would only say that if I wanted to dance I could go to the Masonic Hall among the people we knew. It was just my point that I all together too much of the people we knew. My bedroom was on the ground floor, and as I studied there, I had a stove in it. I used to retire to my room early on Saturday night, change my shirt and collar, and put on my Sunday coat. I waited until all was quiet, and the old people were asleep, then raised my window, climbed out, and went softly through the yard. The first time

Starting point is 04:47:07 I deceived my grandparents I felt rather shabby, perhaps even the second time, but I soon ceased to think about it. The dance at the fireman's hall was the one thing I looked forward to all the week. There I met the same people I used to see at the Vanis tent. Sometimes there were bohemians from Wilbur, or German boys who came down on the afternoon freight from Bismarck. Tony and Lena and Tiny were always there, and the three bohemian Marys and the Danish Laundrie girls. The four Danish girls lived with the laundromen and his wife in their house behind the laundry, with a big garden where the clothes were hung out to dry. The laundromen was a kind, wise old fellow, who paid his girls well, looked out for them,

Starting point is 04:47:51 and gave them a good home. He told me once that his own daughter died just as she was getting old enough to help her mother, and that he had been trying to make up for it ever since. On summer afternoons he used to sit for hours on the sidewalk in front of his laundry, his newspaper lying on his knee, watching his girls through the big open window while they ironed and talked in Danish. The clouds of white dust that blew up the street,

Starting point is 04:48:17 the gusts of hot wind that withered his vegetable garden, never disturbed his calm. His droll expression seemed to say that he had found the secret of contentment. Morning and evening he drove about in his spring wagon, distributing freshly ironed clothes, and collecting bags of linen that cried out for his son, and sunny drying lines.

Starting point is 04:48:39 His girls never looked so pretty at the dances, as they did standing by the ironing board, or over the tubs, washing the fine pieces, their white arms and throats bare, their cheeks bright as the brightest wild roses, their gold hair moist with the steam or the heat, and curling in little damp spirals about their ears. They had not learned much English, and were not so ambitious as Tony or Lena, but they were kind, simple girls, and they were always happy. happy. When one danced with them, one smelled their clean, freshly ironed clothes that had been put away with rosemary leaves from Mr. Jensen's garden. There were never girls enough to go round at those

Starting point is 04:49:19 dances, but everyone wanted to turn with Tony and Lena. Lena moved without exertion, rather indolently, and her hand often accented the rhythm softly on her partner's shoulder. She smiled if one spoke to her, but seldom answered. The music seemed to put her into a soft waking dream, and her violet-colored eyes looked sleepily and confidingly at one from under her long lashes. When she sighed, she exhaled a heavy perfume of sachet powder. To dance, Home Sweet Home, with Lena was like coming in with the tide. She danced every dance like a waltz, and it was always the same waltz, the waltz of coming home to something of inevitable fated return. after a while one got restless under it as one does under the heat of a soft sultry summer day when you spun out into the floor with tony you didn't return to anything you set out every time upon a new adventure

Starting point is 04:50:16 i like to scottish with her she had so much spring and variety and was always putting in new steps and slides she taught me to dance against and around the hard and fast beat of the music if instead of going to the end of the railroad or old Mr. Shimerda had stayed in New York and picked up a living with his fiddle how different Antonia's life might have been. Antonia often went to the dances with Larry Donovan, a passenger conductor who was a kind of professional ladiesman, as we said. I remember how admiringly all the boys looked at her the night she first wore her velveteen dress, made like Mrs. Gardner's black velvet. She was lovely to see, with her eyes shining, and her lips always a little parted when she danced. That constant dark color in her cheeks never changed. One evening when Donovan was out on his run, Antonia came to the hall with Norwegian Anna and her young man, and that night

Starting point is 04:51:14 I took her home. When we were in the Cutter's yard, sheltered by the evergreens, I told her she must kiss me good night. Why, sure, Jim! A moment later she drew her face away and whispered indignantly. Why, Jim, you know you ain't right to kiss me like that. I'll tell your grandmother on you. Lena Lingard lets me kiss her, I retorted, and I'm not half as fond as her as I am of you. Lena does? Tony gasped. If she's up to any of her nonsense with you, I'll scratch her eyes out.

Starting point is 04:51:47 She took my arm again and we walked out of the gate, and up and down the sidewalk. Now don't you go and be a fool like some of these town boys? You're not going to sit around here and whittle store. boxes and tell stories all your life. You are going away to school and make something of yourself. I'm just awful proud of you. You won't go and get mixed up with the Swedes, will you? I don't care anything about any of them but you, I said, and you'll always treat me like a kid, I suppose. She laughed and threw her arms around me. I expect I will, but you're a kid I'm

Starting point is 04:52:20 awful fond of anyhow. You can like me all you want to, but if I see you hanging around with Lena much, I'll go to your grandmother, as sure as your name's Jim Burden. Lena's all right, only, well, you know yourself. She's soft that way. She can't help it. It's natural to her. If she was proud of me, I was so proud of her that I carried my head high as I emerged from the dark cedars, and shut the cutters gate softly behind me.

Starting point is 04:52:47 Her warm, sweet face, her kind arms, and the true-hearted her, she was, oh, she was still my Antonia. I looked with contempt at the dark, silent little houses about me as I walked home and thought of the stupid young men who were asleep in some of them. I knew where the real women were, though I was only a boy, and I would not be afraid of them either. I hated to enter the still house when I went home from the dances, and it was long before I could get to sleep. Toward morning I used to have pleasant dreams.

Starting point is 04:53:20 Sometimes Tony and I were out in the country, sliding down straw stacks as we used to do, climbing up the yellow mountains over and over, and slipping down the smooth sides into soft piles of chaff. One dream I dreamed a great many times, and it was always the same. I was in a harvest field, full of shocks, and I was lying against one of them. Lena Lingard came across the stubble barefoot, in a short skirt, with a curved reaping hook in her hand, and she was flushed like the dawn, with a kind of luminous rosiness all about her. She sat down beside me, turned to me with a soft sigh and said, Now they are all gone, and I can kiss you as much as I like.

Starting point is 04:54:04 I used to wish I could have this flattering dream about Antonia, but I never did. End of Chapter 12. Book 2, Chapter 13 of My Antonia. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, Please visit Libravox.org. Recording by Katie Gibney, Arkansas, December 2007.

Starting point is 04:54:43 My Antonia by Willa Cather, Book 2, The Hired Girls, Chapter 13. I noticed one afternoon that grandmother had been crying. Her feet seemed to drag as she moved about the house, and I got up from the table where I was studying and went to her, asking if she didn't feel well, and if I couldn't help her with her work. No, thank you, Jim. I'm troubled, but I guess I'm well enough.

Starting point is 04:55:10 Getting a little rusty in the bones, maybe, she added bitterly. I stood hesitating. What are you fretting about, grandmother? Has grandfather lost any money? No, it ain't the money. I wish it was. But I've heard things. You must have known it would come back to me sometime.

Starting point is 04:55:28 She dropped into a chair, and covering her face with her apron, began to cry. Jim, she said. I was never one that claimed old folks could bring up their grandchildren, but it came about so. There wasn't any other way for you, it seemed like.

Starting point is 04:55:45 I put my arms around her. I couldn't bear to see her cry. What is it, Grandmother? Is it the fireman's dances? She nodded. I'm sorry I sneaked off like that, but there's nothing wrong about the dances, and I haven't done anything wrong.

Starting point is 04:56:00 I like all those country girls, and I like to dance with them. That's all there is to it. But it ain't right to deceive us, son, and it brings blame on us. People say you are growing up to be a bad boy, and that ain't just to us. I don't care what they say about me, but if it hurts you, that settles it. I won't go to the fireman's hall again. I kept my promise, of course, but I found the spring months dull enough. I sat at home with the old people in the evenings now, reading Latin that was not in our high school course. I had made up my mind to do a lot of college requirement work in the summer, and to enter the freshman class at the university without conditions in the fall. I wanted to get away as soon as

Starting point is 04:56:43 possible. Disapprobation hurt me, I found, even that of people whom I did not admire. As the spring came on, I grew more and more lonely, and fell back on the tologographer and the cigar maker and his canaries, for companionship. I remember I took a melancholy pleasure in hanging a May basket for Nina Harling that spring. I bought the flowers from an old German woman, who always had more window plants than anyone else, and spent an afternoon trimming a little work basket. When dust came on, and the new moon hung in the sky, I went quietly to the Harling's front door with my offering, rang the bell, and then ran away as was the custom. Through the willow hedge I could hear Nina's cries of delight, and I felt comforted.

Starting point is 04:57:30 On those warm, soft spring evenings, I often lingered downtown to walk home with Francis, and talked to her about my plans and about the reading I was doing. One evening, she said, she thought Mrs. Harling was not seriously offended with me. Mama is as broad-minded as mothers ever are, I guess, but you know she was heard about Antonia, and she can't understand why you like to be with Tiny and Lena better than with the girls of your own set. Can you? I asked bluntly. Francis laughed. Yes, I think I can.

Starting point is 04:58:02 You knew them in the country, and you like to take sides. In some ways you're older than boys of your age. It will be all right with Mama after you pass your college examinations, and she sees you're in earnest. If you were a boy, I persisted, you wouldn't belong to the Owl Club either. You'd be just like me. She shook her head. I would and I wouldn't.

Starting point is 04:58:23 I expect I know the country. girls better than you do. You always put a kind of glamour over them. The trouble with you, Jim, is that you're romantic. Mama's going to your commencement. She asked me the other day if I knew what your oration is to be about. She wants you to do well. I thought my oration very good. It's stated with fervor a great many things I had lately discovered. Mrs. Harling came to the Opera House to hear the commencement exercises, and I looked at her most of the time while I made my speech. Her keen, intelligent eyes never left my face. Afterward she came back to the dressing room where we stood, with our diplomas in our hands, walked up to me and said heartily,

Starting point is 04:59:04 you surprised me, Jim, I didn't believe you could do as well as that. You didn't get that speech out of books. Among my graduation presence, there was a silk umbrella from Mrs. Harling, with my name on the handle. I walked home from the Opera House alone. As I passed the Methodist Church, I saw three white figures ahead of me, pacing up and down under the arching maple trees, where the moonlight filtered through the lush June foliage. They hurried toward me. They were waiting for me, Lena and Tony and Anna Hanson. Oh, Jim, it was splendid. Tony was breathing hard, as she always did when her feelings outran her language. There ain't a lawyer and Black Hawk could make a speech like that. I just stopped your grandpa and said so to him. He won't tell you, but he told us he was awful

Starting point is 04:59:52 surprised himself, didn't he, girls? Lena sidled up to me and said teasingly, "'What made you so solemn? I thought you were scared. I was sure you'd forget.' Anna spoke wistfully. It must make you happy, Jim, to have fine thoughts like that in your mind all the time, and to have words to put them in. I always wanted to go to school, you know. Oh, I just sat there and wished my papa could hear you. Jim, Antonia took hold of my coat lapels. There was something in your speech that made me think so about my papa. I thought about your papa when I wrote my speech, Tony, I said. I dedicated it to him. She threw her arms around me,

Starting point is 05:00:34 and her dear face was all wet with tears. I stood watching their white dresses glimmer smaller and smaller down the sidewalk as they went away. I have had no other success that pulled at my heartstrings like that one. End of Chapter 13. Book 2, Chapter 14 of My Antonia. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org.

Starting point is 05:01:11 Recording by Nikki Sullivan. My Antonia, by Willa Cather, Book 2, The Higher Girls. Chapter 14 The Day After After After commencement, I moved my books and desk upstairs to an empty room where I should be undisturbed, and I fell to studying in earnest. I worked off a year's trigonometry that summer, and began Virgil alone. Morning after morning, I used to pace up and down my sunny little room, looking off at the distant river bluffs and the role of the blonde pastures between, scanning the anead allowed, and committing long passages to memory. Sometimes in the evening Mrs. Harling came to me as I passed her gate and asked me to come in and let her play for me.

Starting point is 05:02:01 She was lonely for Charlie, she said, and liked to have a boy about. Whenever my grandparents had misgivings and began to wonder whether I was not too young to go off to college alone, Mrs. Harling took up my cause vigorously. Grandfather had such respect for her judgment that I knew he would not go against her. I had only one holiday that summer. It was in July. I met Antonia downtown on Saturday afternoon and learned that she and Tiny and Lena

Starting point is 05:02:33 were going to the river next day with Anna Hanson. The elder was all in bloom now, and Anna wanted to make elder blow wine. Anna's to drive us down in the Marshall's delivery wagon, and we'll take a nice lunch and have a picnic. Just us, nobody else. couldn't you happen a long, gem? It would be like old times.

Starting point is 05:02:57 I considered a moment. Maybe I can, if I won't be in the way. On Sunday morning, I rose early and got out of Black Hawk while the dew was still heavy on the long meadow grasses. It was the high season for summer flowers. The pink bee brush stood tall along the sandy road sides, and the cone flowers in Rose Mallow grew everywhere.

Starting point is 05:03:22 Across the wire fence in long grass, I saw a clump of flaming orange-colored milkweed, rare in that part of the state. I left the road and went around through a stretch of pasture that was always cropped short in the summer where the galardia came up year after year and matted over the ground with a deep velvety red that is in Bokara carpets. The country was empty and solitary except for the larks that Sunday morning, and it seemed to lift itself up to me and come very close. The river was running strong from midsummer.

Starting point is 05:03:57 Heavy rains to the west of us had kept it full. I crossed the bridge and went upstream along the wooded shore to a pleasant dressing room. I knew among the dogwood bushes, all overgrown with wild grapevines. I began to undress for a swim. The girls would not be along yet. For the first time it occurred to me that I would be homesick for that river, after I left, the sandbars with their clean white beaches and their little groves of willows and cottonwood seedlings, with a sort of no man's land, little newly created worlds that belong to the

Starting point is 05:04:33 Black Hawk Boys. Charlie Harling and I hunted through these woods, fished from the fallen logs, until I knew every inch of the river shores and had a friendly feeling for every bar in shallow. After my swim, while I was playing about indolently in the water, I heard the sound of hoofs and wheels on the bridge. I struck downstream and shouted, as the open spring wagon came into view on the middle span. They stopped the horse, and the two girls in the bottom of the cart stood up, studying themselves by the shoulders of the two in front, so that they could see me better. They were charming up there, huddled together in the cart, and peering down at me, like curious, deer when they come out of the thicket to drink. I found

Starting point is 05:05:20 bottom near the bridge and stood up, waving to them. How pretty you look, I called. So do you, they shouted altogether, and broke into peals of laughter. Anna Hanson shook the reins as they drove on while I zigzagged back to my inlet and clambered up behind the overhanging elm. I dried myself in the sun and dressed slowly, reluctant to leave that green enclosure where the sunlight flickered so bright through the grapevine leaves, and the woodpecker hammered away in the crooked elm that trailed out over the water.

Starting point is 05:05:57 As I went along the road back to the bridge, I kept picking off little pieces of scaly chalk from the dried water gullies and breaking them up in my hands. When I came upon the Marshall's Delivery Horse, tied in the shade, the girls had already taken their baskets and gone down the East Road, which wound through the sand and scrub, I could hear them calling to each other. The elder bushes did not grow back in the shady ravines between the bluffs,

Starting point is 05:06:24 but in the hot sandy bottoms along the stream, where the roots were always in moisture and their tops in the sun. The blossoms were unusually luxuriant and beautiful that summer. I followed a cattle path through the thick underbrush until I came to a slope that fell away abruptly to the water's edge. A great chunk of the shore had been bitten out by some of the shore, some spring fresh it, and the scar was masked by elder bushes, growing down to the water in flowery terraces.

Starting point is 05:06:55 I did not touch them. I was overcome by content and drowsiness by the warm silence about me. There was no sound but the high sing-song buzz of wild bees in the sunny gurgle of the water underneath. I peeped over the edge of the bank to see the little stream that made the noise. It flowed along perfectly clear over the sand and gravel, cut off from the muddy main current by a long sandbar. Down there, on the lower shelf of the bank, I saw Antonia, seated alone under the pagoda-like elders. She looked up when she heard me and smiled, but I saw that she had been crying.

Starting point is 05:07:36 I slid down into the soft sand beside her and asked what was the matter. It makes me homesick, Jimmy, this flower. The smell. The smell, she said softly. We have this flower very much at home in the old country. He had always grew in our yard, and my papa had a green bench and a table under the bushes. In the summer, when they were in bloom, he used to sit there with his friend that played the trombone. When I was little, I used to go down there to hear them talk.

Starting point is 05:08:09 Beautiful talk. Like what I never hear in this country. What did they talk about? I asked her. She sighed and shook her head. Oh, I don't know, about music in the woods and about God and when they were young. She turned to me suddenly and looked into my eyes. You think, Jimmy, that maybe my father's spirit can go back to those old places? I told her about the feeling of her father's presence I had on the winter day

Starting point is 05:08:41 when my grandparents had gone over to see his dead body, and I was left alone in the house. I said I felt sure then, that he was on his way back to his own country, and that even now, when I had passed his grave, I always thought of him as being among the woods and fields that were so dear to him. Antonia had the most trusting, responsive eyes in the world,

Starting point is 05:09:06 love and credulousness seemed to look out from them with open faces. Why didn't you ever tell me that before? It makes me feel more sure for him. After a while, she said, You know, Jim, my father was different from my mother. He did not have to marry my mother, and all his brothers quarreled with him because he did. I used to hear the old people at my home whisper about it.

Starting point is 05:09:33 They said he could have paid my mother money and not married her. But he was older than she was, and he was too kind to treat her. like that. He lived in his mother's house, and she was a poor girl come in to do the work. After my father married her, my grandmother never let my mother come into her house again. When I went to my grandmother's funeral, it was the first and only time I was ever in my grandmother's house. Don't that seem strange? While she talked, I lay back in the hot sand and looked up at the blue sky between the flat bouquets of elder. I could hear the bees humming and singing, but that

Starting point is 05:10:11 They stayed up in the sun above the flowers and did not come down into the shadow of the leaves. Antonia seemed to me that day exactly like the little girl who used to come to our house with Mr. Shmirda. Someday, Tony, I am going over to your country, and I am going to the little town where you lived. Do you remember all about it? Jim, she said earnestly, if I was ever put down there in the middle of the night, I could find my way all over that little town. and along the river to the next town, where my grandmother lived. My feet remember all the little paths through the woods, and where the big roots stick out to trip you.

Starting point is 05:10:51 I never forgot my own country. There was a crackling in the branches above us, and Lena Lingard peered down over the edge of the bank. You lazy things, she cried. All this elder, and you two lying there, didn't you hear us calling you? Almost as flushed as she had been in my dream, she leaned over the edge of the bank and began to demolish our flowery pagoda.

Starting point is 05:11:18 I had never seen her so energetic. She was panting with zeal, and the perspiration stood in drops on her short, yielding upper lip. I sprang to my feet and ran up the bank. It was noon now, and so hot the dogwoods and scrub oaks began to turn up the silvery underside of their leave, and all the foliage looked soft and wielded. I carry the lunch basket to the top of the chalk bluffs,

Starting point is 05:11:47 where even on the calmest days there was always a breeze. The flat-topped twisted little oaks through light shadows on the grass. Below us we could see the windings of the river and black hawk, grouped among its trees and beyond, the rolling country swelling gently until it met the sky. We could recognize familiar farmhouses and windmills. Each of the girls pointed out to me the direction in which her father's farm lay and told me how many acres were in wheat that year and how many in corn. My old folks, said

Starting point is 05:12:22 tiny solderball, have put in 20 acres of rye. They get it ground at the mill and it makes nice bread. It seems like my mother ain't been so homesick ever since my father's raised rye flour for her. It must have been trial for our mothers, said Lena, coming out here. on having to do everything different. My mother had always lived in town. She says she started behind in frown work and has never caught up. Yes, a new country is hard on the old one sometimes, said Anna thoughtfully. My grandmother is getting feeble now, and her mind wanders.

Starting point is 05:12:58 She's forgot about this country, and she thinks she's home in Norway. She keeps asking Mother to take her down to the water side in the fish market. She craves fish all the time. Whenever I go home, I take her canned salmon and mackerel. Mercy, it's hot, Leany yawned. She was supine under a little oak resting after the fury of her elder hunting and had taken off her high-heeled slippers she had been silly enough to wear. Come here, Jim. You never got the sand out of your hair.

Starting point is 05:13:31 She began to draw her fingers slowly through my hair. Antonia pushed her away. You'll never get it out like that, she said sharply. She gave my head a rough tassling and finished me off with something like a box in the ear. Lena, you oughtn't try to wear those slippers anymore. They're too small for your feet. You'd better give them to me for Yuka. All right, said Lina good-naturedly, tucking her white stockings under her skirt. You get all Yolka's things, don't you?

Starting point is 05:14:01 I wish father didn't have such bad luck with his farm machinery, then I could buy more things for my sisters. I'm going to get Mary a new coat for this fall if the sulky plows never paid for. Tiny asked why she didn't wait until after Christmas when coats would be cheaper. What do you think of poor me? she added, with six at home younger than I am. And they all think I'm rich, because when I go back to the country, I'm dressed so fine. She shrugged her shoulders. But, you know, my weakness is playthings.

Starting point is 05:14:35 I like to buy them play things better than what they need. i know how that is said anna when we first came here and i was little we were too poor to buy toys i never got over the loss of a doll somebody gave me before we left norway a boy on the boat broke her and i still hate him for it "'I guess after you got here you had plenty of live dolls to nurse like me,' Lena remarked cynically. "'Yes, the babies came along pretty fast, to be sure. "'But I never minded. I was fond of them all. "'The youngest one, that we did in any of us one, is the one we love best now.' "'Lena sighed. "'Oh, the babies come all right.

Starting point is 05:15:16 "'If only they don't come in winter. "'I was nearly always did. "'I don't see how mother stood it. "'I'll tell you what, girls,' she sat up. up with sudden energy. I'm going to get my mother out of that old sod house where she's lived so many years. The men will never do it. Johnny, that's my oldest brother.

Starting point is 05:15:33 He's wanting to get married now and build a house for his girl instead of his mother. Mrs. Thomas says she thinks I can move to some other town pretty soon and go into business for myself. If I don't get into business, I'll maybe marry a rich gambler. That would be a poor way to get on, said Anna sarcastically. I wish I could teach school, like Selma Crone. Just think. She'll be the first Scandinavian girl to get a position in the high school.

Starting point is 05:16:02 We ought to be proud of her. Selma was a studious girl who had not much tolerance for giddy things like Tiny and Lena, but they always spoke of her with admiration. Tiny moved about restlessly, fanning herself with her straw hat. If I were smart like her, I'd be at my books day and night. But she was born smart, and look at how her father's trained her. something high up in the old country. So was my mother's father, murmured Lena.

Starting point is 05:16:29 But that's all the good it does us. My father's father was smart, too, but he was wild. He married a lap. I guess that's what's the matter with me. They say in my lap blood will out. A real lap, Lena? I exclaimed. The kind that wear skins?

Starting point is 05:16:44 I don't know if she wore skins, but she was a lap all right, and his folks felt dreadful about it. He was sent up north on some government job he had and fell in love with her. He would marry her. But I thought Lapland women were fat and ugly, and had squint eyes like Chinese, I objected.

Starting point is 05:17:03 I don't know, maybe. There must be something mighty taking about the Lap girls, though. My mother says the Norwegians up north are always afraid their boys will run after them. In the afternoon, when the heat was less oppressive, we had a lively game of Pussy Once a Corner on the flat bluff top with the little trees for bases. Lena was pussy so often that she finally said she wouldn't play anymore.

Starting point is 05:17:26 We threw ourselves down on the grass out of breath. Jim, Antonia said dreamily. I want you to tell the girls how the Spanish first came here, like you and Charlie Harling used to talk about. I've tried to tell them, but I leave out so much. They sat under a little oak, Tony resting against the trunk and the other girls leaning against her and each other, and listened to the little I was able to tell them about Coronado,

Starting point is 05:17:51 in his search for the seven golden cities. At school we were taught that he had not got so far north as Nebraska, but had given up his quest and turned back somewhere in Kansas. But Charlie Harling and I had a strong belief that he had been along this very river. A farmer in the country north of ours, when he was breaking soil, had turned up a metal strip of fine workmanship and a sword with a Spanish inscription on the blade. He lent these relics to Mr. Harling, who brought them home with him. charlie and i scoured them and they were on exhibition in the harling office all summer father kelly the priest had found the name of the spanish maker on the sword and an abbreviation that stood for the city of cordova and that i saw with my own eyes antonia put in triumphantly so jim and charlie were right and the teachers were wrong

Starting point is 05:18:43 The girls began to wonder among themselves. Why had the Spaniards come so far? What must this country have been like, then? Why had Coronado never gone back to Spain, to his riches and his castles in his king? I couldn't tell them. I only knew that Schoolbrook said he died in the wilderness of a broken heart. More than him has done that, said Antonia sadly,

Starting point is 05:19:08 and the girls murmured a sense. We sat looking off across the country, watching the sun go down. The curly grass about us was on fire now. The bark of the oaks turned red as copper. There was a shimmer of gold in the brown river. Out in the stream the sandbars glittered like glass, and the light trembled in the willow pickets,

Starting point is 05:19:29 as if little flames were leaping among them. The breeze sank to stillness. In the ravine a ring dove mourned plaintively, and somewhere off in the bushes, an owl hooted. The girls sat list, slid. leaning against each other. The long fingers of the sun touched their foreheads. Presently we saw a curious thing.

Starting point is 05:19:50 There were no clouds, and the sun was going down in a limpid, gold-washed sky. Just as the lower edge of the red disc rested on the high fields against the horizon, a great black figure suddenly appeared on the face of the sun. We sprang to our feet, straining our eyes towards it. In a moment we realized what it was. On some upland farm, a plow had been left slain. standing in the field. The sun was sinking just behind it. Magnified across the distance by the horizontal light, it stood out against the sun, was exactly contained within the circle of the

Starting point is 05:20:27 disc, the handles, the tongue, the share, black against the molten red. There it was, heroic in size, a picture of writing on the sun. Even while we whispered about it, our vision disappeared, the ball dropped and dropped until the red tip went beneath the earth. The fields blow us were dark. The sky was growing pale, and that forgotten plow had sunk back into its own littleness somewhere on the prairie. End of Chapter 14. Recording by Nikki Sullivan, Chicago. Book 2, Chapter 15 of My Antonia.

Starting point is 05:21:16 This is a Libravox recording. All Libervox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Recording by Nikki Sullivan My Antonia by Willa Cather, Book 2, The Hired Girls. Chapter 15 Late in August, the Cutters went to Omaha for a few days, leaving Antonia in charge of the house.

Starting point is 05:21:42 Since the scandal about the Swedish girl, Wick Cutter could never get his wife to stir out of Black Hawk without him. The day after the Cutter's left, Antonia came over to see us. Grandmother noticed that she seemed troubled and distracted. "'You've got something on your mind, Antonia,' she said anxiously. "'Yes, Mrs. Burden. "'I couldn't sleep much last night.

Starting point is 05:22:06 "'She hesitated, and then told us how strangely Mr. Cutter had behaved before he went away. "'He put all the silver in a basket and placed it under her bed, "'and with it a box of papers which he told her was valuable. He made her promise that she would not sleep away from the house or be out late in the evening while he was gone. He strictly forbade her to ask any of the girls he knew to stay with her at night. She would be perfectly safe, he said, as he had just put a new Yale lock on the front door. Cutter had been so insistent in regard to these details that now she felt uncomfortable about staying there alone. She hadn't liked the way he kept coming into the kitchen to instruct her,

Starting point is 05:22:50 or the way he looked at her. I feel as if he's up to some of his tricks again, and is going to try to scare me somehow. Grandmother was apprehensive at once. I don't think it's right for you to stay there, feeling that way. I suppose it wouldn't be right for you to leave the place alone, either, and after giving your word. Maybe Jim would be willing to go over there and sleep,

Starting point is 05:23:14 and you could come here nights. I'd feel safer, knowing you were under my own roof. I guess Jim could take care of the silver and old usury notes as well as you could. Antonia turned to me eagerly. Oh, would you, Jim? I'd make him up my bed nice and fresh for you. It's a real cool room in the bed's right next to the window. I was afraid to leave the window open last night.

Starting point is 05:23:39 I liked my own room and didn't like the Cutter's house under any circumstances. But Tony looked so troubled that I consented to try this arrangement. I found that I slept there as well. as anywhere, and when I got home in the morning, Tony had a good breakfast waiting for me. After prayers, she sat down at the table with us, and it was like old times in the country. The third night I spent at the Cutters, I woke suddenly with the impression that I had heard a door open and shut. Everything was still, however, and I must have gone to sleep again immediately. The next thing I knew, I felt someone sit down on the edge of the bed. I was only half awake, but I decided that he might

Starting point is 05:24:19 take the cutter's silver, whoever he was. Perhaps I did not move. Perhaps if I did not move, he would find it and get out of there without troubling me. I held my breath and lay absolutely still. A hand closed softly on my shoulder, and at the same moment I felt something hairy and clone-scented brushing my face.

Starting point is 05:24:42 If the room had suddenly been flooded with electric light, I couldn't have seen more clearly the detestable bearded countenance that I knew was bending of. over me. I caught a handful of whiskers and pulled, shouting something. The hand that held my shoulder was instantly at my throat. The man became insane. He stood over me, choking me with one fist and beating me in the face with the other, hissing and chuckling and letting out a flood of abuse. So this is what she's up to when I'm away, is it? Where is she, you nasty walt? Where is she? Under the

Starting point is 05:25:14 bed, are you hussy? I know your tricks. Wait till I get at you. I'll fix this rat you've got in here. He's caught all right. So long as Cutter had me by the throat, there was no chance for me at all. I got hold of his thumb and bent it back until he let go with a yell. In a bound I was on my feet and easily sent him sprawling to the floor. When I made a dive for the open window, struck the wire screen, knocked it out, and tumbled after it into the yard.

Starting point is 05:25:43 Suddenly I found myself running across the north end of Black Hawk in my nightshirt, just as someone finds one self-behaving in bad dreams. When I got home, I climbed in at the kitchen window. I was covered with blood from my nose and lip, but I was too sick to do anything about it. I found a shawl and an overcoat on the hat rack, laid down on the parlor sofa, and in spite of my hurts, went to sleep.

Starting point is 05:26:07 My grandmother found me there in the morning. Her cry of fright awakened me. Truly I was a battered object. As she helped me to my room, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My lip was cut and stood out like a snout. My nose looked like a big blue plum, and one eye was swollen shut and hideously discolored. Grandmother said, We must have a doctor at once, but I implored her as I had never begged for anything before not to send for him. I could stand anything, I told her, so long as no one saw me or knew what had happened to me.

Starting point is 05:26:38 I entreated her not to let grandfather even come into the room. She seemed to understand, though I was too faint and miserable to go into a explanations. When she took off my nightshirt, she found some bruises on my chest and shoulders, and she began to cry. She spent the whole morning bathing and poulticing me and rubbing me with Arnica. I heard Antonia sobbing outside my door, but I asked Grandmother to send her away. I felt that I never wanted to see her again. I hated her almost as much as I hated Cutter. She had let me in for all this disgustingness. Grandmother kept saying how thankful we ought to be that I had been there instead of Antonia.

Starting point is 05:27:19 But I lay with my disfigured face to the wall and felt no particular gratitude. My one concern was that my grandmother should keep everyone away from me. If the story once got abroad, I would never hear the last of it. I could well imagine what the old men down at the drugstore would do with such a theme. While grandmother was trying to make me comfortable,

Starting point is 05:27:43 grandfather went to the depot and learned that Wickcutter had come home, on the night express from the east, and had left again on the six o'clock train for Denver that morning. The agent said his face was striped with court plaster, and he carried his left hand in a sling. He looked so used up that the agent asked him what had happened to him since 10 o'clock the night before, where at Cutter began to swear at him and said he would have him discharged for insubility. That afternoon, while I was asleep, Antonia took grandmother with her and went over to the Cutters to pack her trunk.

Starting point is 05:28:19 They found the place locked up, and they had to break the window to get into Antonia's bedroom. There, everything was in shocking disorder. Her clothes had been taken out of her closet, thrown into the middle of the room, and trampled and torn. My own garments had been treated so badly

Starting point is 05:28:36 that I never saw them again. Grandmother burned them in the Cutter's Kitchen range. While Antonia was packing her trunk and putting her room in order to leave it, The front doorbell rang violently. There stood Mrs. Cutter, locked out, for she had no key to the new lock, her head trembling with rage. I advised her to control herself, or she would have a stroke, Grandmother said afterwards.

Starting point is 05:29:02 Grandmother would not let her see Antonia at all, but made her sit down in the parlor where she related to her just what had occurred the night before. Antonia was frightened, and was going home to stay for a while, she told Mrs. Cutter. it would be useless to interrogate the girl for she knew nothing of what had happened. Then Mrs. Cutter told her story. She and her husband had started home from Omaha together the morning before. They had to stop over several hours and Waymore Junction to catch the Black Hawk train. During that way, Cutter left her at the depot and went to the Waymore Bank to attend to some business.

Starting point is 05:29:39 When he returned, he told her that he would have to stay overnight there, but she should go on home. bought her ticket and put her on the train. She saw him slip a $20 bill into her handbag with her ticket. That bill, she said, should have aroused her suspicions at once, but did not. The trains are never called at little junction towns. Everybody knows when they come in. Mr. Cutter showed his wife's ticket to the conductor and settled her in her seat before the train moved off. It was not until nearly nightfall that she discovered that she was on the express bound for Kansas City, and that her ticket was made out to that point, and that Cutter must have planned it so. The conductor told her the Black Hawk train was due at way more 12 minutes after the Kansas City train left.

Starting point is 05:30:25 She saw at once that her husband had played this trick in order to get back to Blackhawk without her. She had no choice but to go on to Kansas City and take the first fast train for home. Cutter could have got home a date earlier than his wife by any one of a dozen simpler devices. He could have left her in the Omaha Hotel and said he was going to Chicago for a few days, but apparently it was part of his fun to outrage her feelings as much as possible. Mr. Cutter will pay for this, Mrs. Burton, he will pay, Mrs. Cutter avowed, nodding her horse-like head and rolling her eyes. Grandmother said she hadn't a doubt of it.

Starting point is 05:31:08 Certainly, Cutter liked to have his wife think him a devil. In some way he depended upon the excitement. he could arouse in her hysterical nature. Perhaps he got the feeling of being a rake more from his wife's rage and amazement than from any experiences of his own. His zest and debauchery might wane, but never Mrs. Cutter's belief in it. The reckoning with his wife at the end of an escapade was something he counted on, like the last powerful liquor of a long dinner. The one excitement he really couldn't do without was quarreling with Mrs. Cutter. of Chapter 15, recorded by Nikki Sullivan, Chicago.

Starting point is 05:32:20 At the university, I had the good fortune to come immediately under the influence of a brilliant and inspiring young scholar. Gaston Cleric had arrived in Lincoln only a few weeks earlier than I to begin his work as head of the Latin Department. He came west at the suggestion of his physicians, his health having been enfeebled by a long illness in Italy. When I took my entrance examinations, he was my examiner, and my course was arranged under his supervision. I did not go home for my first summer vacation, but stayed in Lincoln, working off a year's Greek, which had been my only condition on entering the freshman class. Cleric's doctor advised against his going back to New England, and except for a few weeks in Colorado, he too was in Lincoln all that summer. We played tennis, red, and took long walks together.

Starting point is 05:33:10 I shall always look back on that time of mental awakening as one of the happiest in my life. Gaston Cleric introduced me to the last. Gaston Cleric introduced me to the last. the world of ideas. When one first enters that world, everything else fades for a time, and all that went before is if it had not been. Yet I found curious survivals. Some of the figures of my old life seemed to be waiting for me in the new. In those days, there were many serious young men among the students who had come up to the university from the farms and the little towns scattered over the thinly settled state. Some of those boys came straight from the cornfields with only a summer's wages in their pockets, hung on through the

Starting point is 05:33:48 four years, shabby and underfed, and completed the course by really heroic self-sacrifice. Our instructors were oddly assorted, wandering pioneer school teachers, stranded ministers of the gospel, a few enthusiastic young men just out of graduate schools. There was an atmosphere of endeavor, of expectancy and bright hopefulness about the young college that had lifted its head from the prairie only a few years before. Our personal life was a small. as free as that of our instructors. There were no college dormitories. We lived where we could and as we could.

Starting point is 05:34:26 I took rooms with an old couple, early settlers in Lincoln, who had married off their children and now lived quietly in their house at the edge of town near the open country. The house was inconveniently situated for students, and on that account I got two rooms for the price of one. My bedroom, originally a linen closet, was unheeded and was barely large enough to contain my cot bed, and it enabled me to call the other room my study. The dresser and the great walnut wardrobe which held all my clothes, even my hats and shoes,

Starting point is 05:34:57 I had pushed out of the way, and I considered them non-existent, as children eliminate incongruous objects when they are playing house. I worked at a commodious, green-topped table, placed directly in front of the west window, which looked out over the prairie. In the corner at my right were all my books. books, in shelves I had made and painted myself. On the blank wall at my left, the dark, old-fashioned wallpaper was covered by a large map of ancient Rome, the work of some German scholar. Clark had ordered it for me when he was sending for books from abroad. Over the bookcase

Starting point is 05:35:34 hung a photograph of the tragic theatre at Pompeii, which he had given me from his collection. When I sat at work, my half-faced a deep, upholstered chair which stood at the end of my table its high back against the wall. I had bought it with great care. My instructor sometimes looked in upon me when he was out for an evening tramp, and I noticed that he was more likely to linger and become talkative if I had a comfortable chair for him to sit in, and if he found a bottle of Benedictine and plenty of the kind of cigarettes he liked at his elbow.

Starting point is 05:36:08 He was, I discovered, parsiminius, about small expenditure. a trait absolutely inconsistent with his general character. Sometimes when he came he was silent and moody. After a few sarcastic remarks, he went away again to tramp the streets of Lincoln, which were almost as quiet and oppressively domestic as those of Black Hawk. Again, he would sit until nearly midnight, talking about Latin and English poetry, or telling me about his long stay in Italy. I can give no idea of the peculiar charm and vividness of his talk.

Starting point is 05:36:41 In a crowd he was nearly always silent. Even for his classroom he had no platitudes, no stock of professorial anecdotes. When he was tired, his lectures were clouded, obscure, elliptical, but when he was interested, they were wonderful. I believe that Gaston Cleric narrowly missed being a great poet, and I have sometimes thought that his bursts of imagines of talk were fatal to his poetic gift. He squand too much in the heat of personal communication. How often I have seen him draw his dark brows together, fix his eyes upon some object on the wall or a figure in the carpet, and then flash into the lamplight the very image that was in his brain.

Starting point is 05:37:27 He could bring the drama of antique life before one out of the shadows, white figures against blue backgrounds. I shall never forget his face as it looked one night when he told me about the same. solitary day he spent among the sea temples that passed him, the soft wind blowing through the roofless columns, the birds flying low over the flowering marsh grasses, the changing lights on the silver cloud-hung mountains. He had willfully stayed the short summer night there, wrapped in his coat and rug, watching the constellations on their path down the sky until the bride of old Tithanas rose out of the sea, and the mountains stood sharp in the dawn. It was there he caught

Starting point is 05:38:09 the fever which held him back on the eve of his departure for Greece and of which he lay ill so long in Naples. He was still indeed doing penance for it. I remember vividly another evening when something led us to talk of Dante's veneration of Virgil. Cleric went through canto after canto of the Comedia, repeating the discourse between Dante and his sweet teacher, while his cigarette burned itself out unheeded between his long fingers. I can hear him now, speaking the lines of the poet Statius who spoke for Dante. I was famous on earth with the name which endures longest and honors most. The seeds of my ardor were the sparks from that divine flame whereby more than a thousand have kindled. I speak of the Aeneid, mother to me, and nursed to me

Starting point is 05:38:59 in poetry. Although I admired scholarship so much in cleric, I was not deceived about myself. I knew that I should never be a scholar. I could never lose myself for long among impersonal things. Mental excitement was apt to send me with a rush back to my own naked land, and the figures scattered upon it. While I was in the very act of yearning toward the new forms that Cleric brought up before me, my mind plunged away from me, and I suddenly found myself thinking of the places and people of my own infinitesimal past. They stood out strengthened and simpler. They stood out, strengthened, now, like the image of the plow against the sun. They were all I had for an answer to the new appeal. I begrudged the room that Jake and Otto and Russian Peter took up in my memory,

Starting point is 05:39:50 which I wanted a crowd with other things. But whenever my consciousness was quickened, all those early friends were quickened within it, and in some strange way they accompanied me through all my new experiences. They were so much alive in me that I scarcely stopped to wonder whether they were alive anywhere else or how. End of chapter one. Book number three, Lena Lindgard, Chapter 2 of My Antonia. This is a Librevox recording.

Starting point is 05:40:24 All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Reading by Jeff Cowgirl. My Antonia by Willa Cather. Book 3, Lena Lindgard, chapter 2. One March evening in my sophomore year, I was sitting alone in my room after supper. There had been a warm thaw all day, with mushy yards and little streams of dark water gurgling cheerfully into the streets out of old snow banks.

Starting point is 05:40:56 My window was open, and the earthy wind blowing through made me indolent. On the edge of the prairie where the sun had gone down, the sky was turquoise blue like a lake with gold light throbbing in it. Higher up in the utter clarity of the western slope, the evening star hung like a lamp suspended by silver chains, like the lamp engraved upon the title page of old Latin texts, which is always appearing in new heavens and waking new desires in men. It reminded me, at any rate, to shut my window and light my wick and answer. I did so regretfully, and the dim objects in the room emerged from the shadows and took their place about me with the helpfulness which custom breeds.

Starting point is 05:41:42 I propped my book open and stared listlessly at the page of the Georgics, where tomorrow's lesson began. It opened with the melancholy reflection that in the lives of mortals, the best days are the first to flee. Opta Medeis Prima Fujit. I turned back to the beginning of the third book, which we had read in class that morning. Primus Ego and Patrium Mechum de Ducum Musis for I shall be the first, if I live, to bring the muse into my country.

Starting point is 05:42:15 Cleric had explained to us that Patria here meant not a nation, or even a province, but the little rural neighborhood on the Manitio where the poet was born. This was not a boast, but a hope, at once bold and devoutly humble, that he might bring the muse, but lately come to Italy from her cloudy Grecian mountains, not to the capital, the Palatia Romana, but to his own little country, to his father's fields sloping down to the river and to the old beech trees with broken tops. Cleric said he thought Virgil when he was dying at Brindisi must have remembered that passage.

Starting point is 05:42:54 After he had faced the bitter fact that he was to leave the Aeneid unfinished and had decreed that the great canvas crowded with figures of gods and men should be burned rather than survive him unperfected, then his mind must have gone back to the perfect utterance of the Georgics, where the pen was fitted to the matter as the plough is to the furrow, and he must have said to himself with the thankfulness of a good man, I was the first to bring the muse into my country. We left the classroom quietly, conscious that we had been brushed by the wing of a great feeling,

Starting point is 05:43:30 though perhaps I alone knew Cleric intimately enough to guess what that feeling was. In the evening, as I sat staring at my book, the fervor of his voice stirred through the quantities on the page before me. I was wondering whether that particular rocky strip of New England coast about which he had so often told me was Cleric's patria. Before I had got far with my reading, I was disturbed by a knock. I hurried to the door, and when I opened it, saw a woman standing in the dark hall. I expect you hardly know me, Jim.

Starting point is 05:44:08 The voice seemed familiar, but I did not recognize her until she stepped into the light of the doorway, and I beheld Lena Lengarde. She was so quietly conventionalized by city clothes that I might have passed her on the street without seeing her. Her black suit fitted her figure smoothly and a black lace hat. with pale blue forget-me-nots, sat demurely on her yellow hair. I led her towards Cleric's chair the only comfortable one I had, questioning her confusedly. She was not disconcerted by my embarrassment.

Starting point is 05:44:43 She looked about her with the naive curiosity I remembered so well. You're quite comfortable here, aren't you? I live in Lincoln now, too, Jim. I'm in business for myself. I have a dressmaking shop in the rally block out on O Street. I made a real good start. "'But, Lina, when did you come?' "'Oh, I've been here all winter.

Starting point is 05:45:03 "'Didn't your grandmother ever write you?' "'I've thought about looking you up lots of times, "'but we've all heard what a studious young man you've got to be, "'and I felt bashful. "'I didn't know whether you'd be glad to see me.' "'She laughed her mellow, easy laugh "'that was either very artless or very comprehending, "'one never quite knew which.

Starting point is 05:45:22 "'You seem the same, though, "'except you're a young man now, of course. "'Do you think I've changed, Maybe you're prettier. Though you're always pretty enough, perhaps it's your clothes that make a difference. You like my new suit? I have to dress pretty well in my business. She took off her jacket and sat more at ease in her blouse of some soft flimsy silk. She was already at home in my place. It slipped quietly into it as she did into everything. She told me her business was going well and she'd saved a little money. This summer, I'm going to build a house for mother I've talked about so long.

Starting point is 05:45:58 I won't be able to pay up on it at first, but I want her to have it before she's too old to enjoy it. Next summer I'll take her down new furniture and carpet so she'll have something to look forward to all winter. I watched Elena sitting there so smooth and sunny and well cared for, and thought of how she used to run barefoot over the prairie until after the snow began to fly, and how crazy Mary chased her round and round the cornfields. It seemed to me wonderful that she should have got on so well in the world, certainly she had no one but herself to thank for it. You must feel proud of yourself, Lena, I said hardly.

Starting point is 05:46:37 Look at me, I never earned a dollar, and I don't know that I'll ever be able to. Tony says you're going to be richer than Mr. Harling someday. She's always bragging about you, you know. Tell me how is Tony. She's fine. She works for Miss Gardner at the hotel now. She's housekeeper. Mrs. Gardner's health isn't what it was,

Starting point is 05:46:57 and she can't see after everything like she used to. She has great confidence in Tony. Tony's made it up with the Harlings, too. Little Nina's so fond of her that Mrs. Harling kind of overlooked things. Is she still going with Larry Donovan? Oh, that's on worse than ever. I guess they're engaged. Tony talks about him like he was president of the railroad.

Starting point is 05:47:20 Everybody laughs about it because she was never a girl to be soft. Oh, she won't hear a word against him. She's so sort of innocent. I said I didn't like Larry and never would. Lena's face dimpled. Some of us could tell her things, but it wouldn't do any good. She'd always believe him. That's Antonia's failing, you know.

Starting point is 05:47:41 If she once likes people, she won't hear anything against them. I think I'd better go home and look after Antonia, I said. I think you had. Lina looked at me in frank amusement. He's a good thing that Harlings are friendly with her again. Larry's a freedom. them. They ship so much grain they have influence with the railroad people. What are you studying? She leaned her elbows on the table and drew my book toward her.

Starting point is 05:48:07 I caught a faint odor of violet sachet. So that's Latin, is it? It looks hard. You do go to the theater sometimes, so, for I've seen you there. Don't you just love a good play, Jim? I can't stay at home in the evening if there's one in town. I'd be willing to work like a slave, it seems to me, to live in a place where there are theatres. Well, let's go to a show together sometime. You're going to let me come and see you, aren't you? Would you like to? I'd be ever so pleased. I'm never busy after six o'clock, and I let my sewing girls go at half-past five. I bored to save time, but sometimes I cook a chop for myself, and I'd be glad to cook one for you. Well, she began to put on her white gloves. It's been often good to see you,

Starting point is 05:48:53 Jim? Well, you needn't hurry, need you. You've hardly told me anything yet. We can talk when you come to see me. I expect you don't often have lady visitors. The old woman downstairs didn't want to let me come up very much. I told her I was from your hometown and had promised your grandmother come and see you. How surprised Mrs. Burden would be. Lena laughed softly as she rose. When I caught up my hat, she shook her head. No, I don't want you to go with me. I'm to meet some Swedes at the drugstore. You wouldn't care for them. I wanted to see your room so I could write Tony all about it, but I must tell her how I left you right here with your books. She's always so afraid someone will run off with you. Lina slipped her silk sleeves into the jacket I held for her,

Starting point is 05:49:40 smoothed it over her person and buttoned it slowly. I walked with her to the door. Come and see me sometimes when you're lonesome. But maybe you have all the friends you want. Have you? She turned her soft cheek to me. "'Have you?' she whispered teasingly in my ear. In a moment I watched her fade down the dusky stairway. When I turned back to my room, the place seemed much pleasanter than before. Lina had left something warm and friendly in the lamplight. How I love to hear her laugh again. It was so soft and unexcited and appreciative. Gave a favorable interpretation to everything. When I closed my eyes, I could hear them all laugh. The Danish laundry girls and the three Bohemian Marys.

Starting point is 05:50:28 Laina had brought them all back to me. It came over me as it had never done before the relation between girls like those and the poetry of Virgil. If there were no girls like them in the world there would be no poetry. I understood that clearly for the first time. This revelation seemed to me inestimably precious. I clung to it as if it might suddenly vanish. As I sat down to my book at last, my old dream about Lena coming across the harvest field

Starting point is 05:50:58 and her short skirt seemed to me like the memory of an actual experience. It floated before me on the page like a picture, and underneath it stood the mournful line, Optima Deas, prima fugit. End of Chapter 2. Book 3, Lena Lindgard, Chapter 3 of My Antonia. This is a Librovoc's recording. all Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org.

Starting point is 05:51:34 Reading by Jeff Cowgill My Antonia by Willa Cather Book 3, Lena Lindgard Chapter 3 In Lincoln, the best part of the theatrical season came late when the good companies stopped off there for one-night stands after their long runs in New York and Chicago. That spring, Lina went with

Starting point is 05:51:56 me to see Joseph Jefferson and Rip Van Winkle, and to a war play called Shenandoah. She was inflexible about paying for her own seat, said she was in business now, and she wouldn't have a schoolboy spending his money on her. I liked to watch a play with Lena. Everything was wonderful to her, and everything was true. It was like going to revival meetings with someone who was always being converted. She handed her feelings over to the actors with a kind of fatalistic resignation. Accessories of costume and scene meant much more to her than to me. She sat entranced through Robin Hood and hung upon the lips of the Contralto who sang, Oh, Promise Me. Toward the end of April the billboards, which I watched anxiously in those days, bloomed out one morning with

Starting point is 05:52:44 gleaming white posters on which two names were impressively printed in blue Gothic letters, the name of an actress of whom I had often heard, and the name of the name of the name of the Camille. I called it the Raleigh block for Lena on Saturday evening and we walked down to the theater. The weather was warm and sultry and put us both in a holiday humor. We arrived early because Lena liked to watch the people come in. There was a note on the program saying that the incidental music would be from the opera Traviata, which was made from the same story as the play. We had neither of us read the play, and we did not know what it was about, though I seemed to remember having heard it was a piece in which great actresses shown. The Count of Monte Cristo,

Starting point is 05:53:28 which I had seen James O'Neill play that winter, was by the only Alexander Dumas I knew. This play I saw was by his son, and I expected a family resemblance. A couple of jackrabbits run in off the prairie could not have been more innocent of what awaited them than were Lena and I. Our excitement began with the rise of the curtain, when the moody Varville sees the before the fire, interrogated Nanine. Decidedly, there was a new tang about this dialogue. I'd never heard in the theater lines that were alive, that presupposed and took for granted,

Starting point is 05:54:05 like those which passed between Varville and Marguerite in the brief encounter before her friends entered. This introduced the most brilliant, worldly, the most enchantingly gay scene I had ever looked upon. I'd never seen champagne bottles opened on the stage before. Indeed, I'd never seen them open anywhere. The memory of that supper makes me hungry now. The sight of it then, when I'd only students' boarding-house dinner behind me, was delicate torment.

Starting point is 05:54:33 I seemed to remember gilded chairs and tables, arranged hurriedly by footmen and white gloves and stockings, linen of dazzling whiteness, glittering glass, silver dishes, a great bowl of fruit and the reddest of roses. The room was invaded by beautiful women and dashing young men, laughing and talking together. The men were dressed more or less after the period in which the play was written. The women were not. I saw no inconsistency. Their talk seemed to open to one the brilliant world in which they lived. Every sentence made one older and wiser.

Starting point is 05:55:08 Every pleasantry enlarged one's horizons. One could experience excess and satiety without the inconvenience of learning what to do with one's hands in a drawing-room. When the characters all spoke at once and I missed some of the phrases they flashed to at each other, I was in misery. I strained my ears and eyes to catch every exclamation. The actress who played Marguerite was even then old-fashioned, though historic. She had been a member of Daly's famous New York Company, and afterward a star under his direction. She was a woman who could not be taught, it is said, though she had a crude natural force which carried with people whose feelings were accessible and whose taste was not squeamish.

Starting point is 05:55:52 She was already old, with a ravaged countenance and a physique curiously hard and stiff. She moved with difficulty. I think she was lame. I seemed to remember some story about a malady of the spine. Her Armand was disproportionately young and slight, a handsome youth, perplexed in the extreme. But what did it matter? I believed devoutly in her power to fascinate him, in her dazzling loveliness. I believed her young.

Starting point is 05:56:22 ardent, reckless, disillusioned, under-sentence, feverish, avid of pleasure. I wanted to cross the footlights and help the slim-waisted Armand in the frilled shirt to convince her that there was still loyalty and devotion in the world. Her sudden illness when the gaiety was at its height, her pallor, the handkerchief she crushed against her lips, the cough she smothered under the laughter while Gaston kept playing the piano lightly. It all wrung my heart. but not so much as her cynicism in the long dialogue with her lover which followed.

Starting point is 05:56:56 Oh, how far was I from questioning her unbelief? While the charmingly sincere young man pleaded with her, accompanied by the orchestra and the old traviata duet Mysterio Mysterioso, she maintained her bitter skepticism, and the curtain fell on her dancing recklessly with the others after Armand had been sent away with his flower. Between the acts we had no time to forget. The orchestra kept sawing away at the traviata music so joyous and sad, so thin and far away,

Starting point is 05:57:25 so clap-trap, and yet so heartbreaking. After the second act I left Lena in tearful contemplation of the ceiling, and went out into the lobby to smoke. As I walked about there, I congratulated myself that I had not brought some Lincoln girl who would talk during the weights about the junior dances, or whether the cadets would camp at Plattsmouth. Lena was at least a woman, and I was a man. man. Through the scene between Marguerite and the elder Duval, Lena wept unceasingly,

Starting point is 05:57:56 and I sat helpless to prevent the closing of that chapter of idyllic love, dreading the return of the young man whose ineffable happiness was only to be the measure of his fall. I suppose no woman could have been further in person, voice, and temperament from Dumas' appealing heroine than the veteran actress who first acquainted me with her. Her conception of the character was as heavy and uncompromising as her diction. She bore hard on the idea and on the consonants. At all time she was highly tragic, devoured by remorse. Lightness of stress or behavior was far from her. Her voice was heavy and deep. Armine! she would begin, as if she were summoning him to the bar of judgment.

Starting point is 05:58:43 But the lions were enough. She had only to utter them. They created the character, of her. The heartless world, which Marguerite re-entered with Varville, had never been so glittering and reckless as on the night when it gathered at Olimp's salon for the fourth act. There were chandeliers hung from the ceiling, I remember many servants in livery, gaming tables where the men played with piles of gold and a staircase down which the guests made their entrance. After all the others had gathered round the card tables and young Duval had been warned by prudence, Marguerite descended the staircase with Varville, such a cloak, such a fan, such jewels, and her face. One knew at a glance how it was with her.

Starting point is 05:59:30 When Armand, with the terrible words, Look all of you, I owe this woman nothing, flung the golden banknotes at the half-swooning Marguerite, Lena cowered beside me and covered her face with her hands. The curtain rose on the bedroom scene. By this time there wasn't a nerve. nerve in me that hadn't been twisted. Nanine alone could have made me cry. I love Nanine tenderly, and Gaston how one clung to that good fellow. The New Year's presence were not too much. Nothing could be too much now. I wept unrestrainedly. Even the handkerchief in my breast pocket

Starting point is 06:00:08 worn for elegance and not at all for use was wet through by the time that Moribund woman sank for the last time into the arms of her lover. When we reached the door of the theatre, the streets were shining with rain. I had prudently brought along Mrs. Harling's useful commencement present, and I took Lena home under its shelter. After leaving her, I walked slowly out into the country part of the town where I lived. The lilacs were all blooming in the yards, and the smell of them after the rain of the new leaves and the blossoms together, blew into my face with a sort of bitter sweetness. I tramped through the puddles and under the showery trees, mourning for Marguerite Gauthie as if she had died only yesterday, sighing with the spirit of 1840, which had sighed so much,

Starting point is 06:00:58 and which had reached me only that night, across long years and several languages, through the person of an infirm old actress. The idea is one that no circumstance can frustrate. Wherever and whenever that piece is put on, it is April. End of Chapter 3. Book 3, Lena Lindgert, Chapter 4 of My Antonia. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain.

Starting point is 06:01:33 For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Recording by Jeff Cowgill. My Antonia by Willa Cather. Book 3, Lena Lindgard, Chapter 4. How well I remember the stiff little parlor where I am I. I used to wait for Lena. The hard horsehair furniture bought at some auction sale, the long mirror, the fashion plates on the wall. If I sat down, even for a moment, I was sure to find threads and bits of colored silk clinging to my clothes after I went away. Lana's success puzzled me.

Starting point is 06:02:12 She was so easygoing, had none of the push and self-assertiveness that get people ahead in business. She'd come to Lincoln a country girl with no introductions except as someone. cousin of Miss Thomas who lived there, and she was already making clothes for the women of the young married set. She evidently had great natural aptitude for her work. She knew, as she said, what people looked well in. She never tired of pouring over fashion books. Sometimes in the evening I would find her alone in her workroom, draping folds of satin on a wire figure, with a quite blissful expression of countenance. I couldn't help thinking that the years when Lena literally hadn't enough clothes to cover herself might have something to do with her untiring interest in dressing

Starting point is 06:02:56 the human figure. Her client said that Lena had style and overlooked her habitual inaccuracies. She never, I discovered, finished anything by the time she had promised, and she frequently spent more money on materials than her customer had authorized. Once, when I arrived at six o'clock, Lena was ushering out a fidgety mother and her awkward overgrown daughter. The woman detained and Lena at the door to say apologetically. Well, you'll try to keep it under fifty for me, won't you, Miss Lengard? You see, she's really too young to come to an expensive dressmaker, but I knew you could do more with her than anybody else.

Starting point is 06:03:34 Or that would be all right, Mrs. Haring. I think we'll manage to get a good effect, Lena replied blandly. I thought her manner with her customers very good and wondered where she had learned such self-possession. Sometimes after my morning classes were over, I used to encounter. her lena down-town, in her velvet suit and a little black hat with a veil tied smoothly over her face, looking as fresh as the spring morning. Maybe she would be carrying home a bunch of jonquils or a hyacinth plant. When we passed a candy store, her footsteps would hesitate and linger.

Starting point is 06:04:07 Don't let me go in, she would murmur. Get me by if you can. She was very fond of sweets and was afraid of growing too plump. We had delightful Sunday breakfasts together at Lainers. At the back of her long workroom was a bay window, large enough to hold a box couch in a reading table. We breakfasted it in this recess after drawing the curtains that shut out the long room with cutting tables and wire women and sheet-draped garments on the walls. The sunlight poured in, making everything on the table shine and glitter and the flame of the alcohol lamp disappear altogether. Lena's curly black-water spaniel prince breakfasted with us.

Starting point is 06:04:45 He sat beside her on the couch and behaved very well until the Polish violin team. teacher across the hall began to practice, when Prince would growl and sniff the air with disgust. Lana's landlord, old Colonel Raleigh, had given her the dog, and at first she was not at all pleased. She'd spent too much of her life taking care of animals to have much sentiment about them. But Prince was a knowing little beast, and she grew fond of him. After breakfast I made him do his lessons, play dead dog, shake hands, stand up like a soldier. We used to put my cadet cap on his head. I had to take military drill at the university, and give him a yard measure to hold with his front leg. His gravity made his laugh immoderately. Lina's talk always amused me. Antonia had never

Starting point is 06:05:32 talked like the people about her. Even after she learned to speak English readily, there was always something impulsive and foreign in her speech. But Lena had picked up all the conventional expressions she heard at Mrs. Thomas's dressmaking shop. Those formal phrases, the very flower of smoke, all-town proprieties and the flat commonplaces, nearly all hypocritical in their origin, became very funny, very engaging when they were uttered in Lena's soft voice with her caressing intonations in arc naivete. Nothing could be more diverting than to hear Lena, who was almost as candid as nature, call a leg, a limb, or a house a home. We used to linger a long while over our coffee in that sunny corner. Lena was never so pretty as in the morning.

Starting point is 06:06:19 morning. She wakened fresh with the world every day, and her eyes had a deeper color, then, like the blue flowers, that are never so blue as when they first open. I could sit idle all through a Sunday morning and look at her. Oly Benson's behavior was now no mystery to me. There was never any harm in Oly, she once said. People needn't have troubled themselves. He'd just like to come over and sit on the drawside and forget about his bad luck. I like to have him. any company's welcome when you're off with cattle all the time but wasn't he always glum i asked people said he never talked at all sure he talked in norwegian he'd been a sailor on an english boat and it's seen a lot of queer places he had wonderful tattoos we used to sit and look at them for hours there wasn't much to look at it there he was like a picture book he had a ship and a strawberry girl and we had a one arm, and on the other a girl standing before a little house, with a fence and a gate and all, waiting for her sweetheart, and further up his arm, her sailor had come back and was kissing her.

Starting point is 06:07:29 The sailor's return, he called it. I admitted it was no wonder all they liked to look at a pretty girl once in a while with such a fright at home. Well, you know, Lina said confidentially, he married Mary because he thought she was strong-minded and would keep him straight. He never could keep straight on shore. The last time he landed in Liverpool, he'd been out on a two-year's voyage. He was paid off one morning, and by the time he hadn't a cent left, and his watch and compass were gone. He'd got with some woman, and they'd taken everything. He worked his way up to his country on a little passenger boat. Mary was a stewardess, and she tried to convert him on the way over. He thought she was just the one to keep him steady. Poor, roly.

Starting point is 06:08:17 oh he used to bring me candy from town hidden in his feed bag he couldn't refuse anything to a girl he'd have given away his tattoos long ago if he could he's one of the people i'm sorryest for if i happened to spend an evening with lena and stayed late the polish violin teacher across the hall used to come out and watch me descend the stairs muttering so threateningly that it would have been easy to fall into a quarrel with him lena had told him once that she liked to hear him practice so he always left the door open and watched who came and went there was a coolness between the pole and lana's landlord on her account old colonel raleigh had come to lincoln from kentucky and invested an inherited fortune in real estate at the time of inflated prices now he sat day after day in his office in the raleigh block trying to discover where his money had gone and how he could get some of it back He was a widower, and found very little congenial companionship in this casual western city. Lannis good looks and gentle manners appealed to him. He said her voice reminded him of southern voices, and he found as many opportunities of hearing it as possible. He painted and papered her rooms for her that spring, and put in a porcelain bathtub in place of the tin one that had satisfied the former tenant.

Starting point is 06:09:41 While these repairs were being made, the old gentleman often dropped into consideration. saltland his preferences. She told me, with amusement, how Ordinsky, the Pole, had presented himself at her door one evening, and said that if the landlord was annoying her by his attentions, he would promptly put a stop to it. I don't exactly know what to do about him, she said, shaking her head. He's so sort of wild all the time. I wouldn't like to have him say anything rough to that nice old man. The colonel is long-winded, but then I expect he's lonesome. I don't think he cares much for Rodinsky, either. He said once that if I had any complaints to make of my neighbors, I mustn't hesitate.

Starting point is 06:10:25 One Saturday evening when I was having supper with Lena, we heard a knock at her parlor door, and there stood the pole, coatless, in a dress shirt and collar. Prince dropped on his paws and began to growl like a mastiff, while the visitor apologized, saying that he could not possibly come in, thus attired, but he begged Lena to lend him some safety pins. Oh, you'll have to come in, Mr. Ordenzky, and let me see what's the matter. She closed the door behind him. Jim, won't you make Prince behave?

Starting point is 06:10:56 I wrapped Prince on his nose, while Ordensky explained that he had not had his dress clothes on for a long time, and tonight, when he was going to play for a concert, his waistcoat had split down the back. He thought he could pin it together until he got it to a tailor. Lena took him by the elbow and turned him round. She laughed when she saw the long gap in the satin. Well, you can never pin that, Mr. Rotinsky. You've kept it folded too long, and the goods has all gone along the crease. Take it off. I can put a new piece of lining silk

Starting point is 06:11:28 in there for you in ten minutes. She disappeared into her workroom with the vest, leaving me to confront the pole who stood against the door like a wooden figure. He folded his arms and glared at me with his excitable, slanting brown eyes. His head was the shape of a chocolate drop and was covered with dry, straw-colored hair that fuzzled up about his pointed crown. He had never done more than mutter at me as I passed him, and I was surprised when he now addressed me. "'Miss Lingard,' he said haughtily. "'He's a young woman for whom I have the most utmost, utmost, utmost respect.' "'So have I,' I said coldly.

Starting point is 06:12:09 He paid no heed to my remark, but began to do rapid finger exercises on his shirt-sleeves as he stood with tightly folded arms. Kindness of heart, he went on, staring at the ceiling. Sentiment are not understood in a place like this. The noblest qualities are ridiculed. Graning college boys, ignorant and conceited. What do they know of delicacy? I controlled my features and tried to speak seriously.

Starting point is 06:12:36 If you mean me, Mr. Ordenski, I have known Miss Lingered a long time, and I think I appreciate her kindness. We come from the same town. and we grew up together. His gaze traveled slowly down from the ceiling and rested on me. Am I to understand that you have this young woman's interests at heart? That you do not wish to compromise her? Well, that's a word we don't use much here, Mr. Ordincky.

Starting point is 06:13:00 A girl who makes her own living can ask a college boy at a supper without being talked about. We take some things for granted. Thus I have misjudged you and asked your pardon. He bowed gravely. "'Miss Lindengarde,' he went on, "'is an absolutely trustful heart. "'She has not learned the hard lessons of life. "'As for you and me, nobles oblige,' he watched me narrowly.

Starting point is 06:13:27 "'Laynor returned with the vest. "'Come in and let us look at you as you go out, Mr. Ordincky. "'I've never seen you in your dress suit,' she said as she opened the door for him. "'A few moments later he reappeared with his violin case. heavy muffler about his neck and thick wooden gloves on his bony hands. Lena spoke encouragingly at him, and he went off with such an important, professional air, that we fell to laughing as soon as we had shut the door. "'Poor fellow,' Lena said indulgently.

Starting point is 06:13:57 "'He takes everything so hard.' After that, Ordenski was friendly to me, and behaved as if there was some deep understanding between us. He wrote a furious article attacking the musical taste of the town and asked me to do him great service by taking it to the editor of the morning paper. If the editor refused to print it, I was to tell him that he would be answerable to Ordensky in person. He declared that he would never retract one word and that he was quite prepared to lose all his pupils. In spite of the fact that nobody ever mentioned his article to him after it appeared, full of typographical errors,

Starting point is 06:14:35 which he thought intentional, he got a certain satisfaction from believing that the citizens of Lincoln had meekly accepted the epitet coarse barbarians. "'That you see how it is,' he said to me. "'Where there is no chivalry, there is no amour proper.' When I met him on his rounds now, I thought he carried his head more disdainfully than ever, and strode up the steps of front porches and rang doorbells with more assurance. He told Lena he would never forget how I had stood by him when he was under fire. All this time, of course, I was drifting.

Starting point is 06:15:13 Lena had broken up my serious mood. I wasn't interested in my classes. I played with Lena and Prince. I played with the pole. I went buggy riding with the old Colonel, who had taken a fancy to me and used to talk to me about Lena and the great beauties he had known in his youth. We were all three in love with Lena. Before the first of June, Gaston Cleric was offered an instructor'ship at Harvard College and accepted it. He suggested that I should follow him in the fall and complete my course at Harvard. He had found out about Lena, not for me, and he talked to me seriously. You won't do anything here now. You should either quit school and go to work or change your college and begin again in earnest. You won't recover yourself while you're playing about with this handsome Norwegian. Yes, I've seen her with you at the theater. She's very pretty and perfectly irresponsible, I should judge.

Starting point is 06:16:13 Cleric wrote my grandfather that he would like to take me east with him. To my astonishment, grandfather replied that I might go if I wished. I was both glad and sorry on the day when the letter came. I stayed in my room all evening and thought things over. I even tried to persuade myself that I was standing in Lena's way, it is so necessary to be a little noble, and that if she had not me to play with she would probably marry and secure her future. The next evening I went to call on Lena.

Starting point is 06:16:43 i found her propped up on the couch in her bay window with her foot and a big slipper an awkward little russian girl whom she had taken into her workroom had dropped a flat iron on lena's toe on the table beside her there was a basket of early summer flowers which the pole had left her after he heard of the accident he always managed to know what went on in lena's apartment lena was telling me some amusing piece of gossip about one of her clients when i interrupted her and picked up the flower basket "'Well, this old chap will be proposing to you someday, Lena.' "'Oh, he has.' "'Often,' she murmured. "'What? After you've refused him?' "'He doesn't mind that. "'It seems to cheer him to mention the subject.

Starting point is 06:17:30 "'Old men are like that, you know. "'It makes them feel important to think they're in love with somebody. "'The Colonel wouldn't marry you in a minute. "'I hope you won't marry some old fellow, not even a rich one. Lena shifted her pillows and looked up at me in surprise. Why, I'm not going to marry anybody? Didn't you know that?

Starting point is 06:17:52 Nonsense, Lena. That's what girls say, but you know better. Every handsome girl like you marries, of course. She shook her head. Not me? But why not? What makes you say that? I persisted.

Starting point is 06:18:05 Lena laughed. Well, it's mainly because I don't want a husband. men are all right for friends but as soon as you marry them they turn into cranky old fathers even the wild ones they begin to tell you what's sensible and what's foolish and want you to stick at home all the time i prefer to be foolish when i feel like it and be accountable to nobody but you'll be lonesome you'll get tired of the sort of life and you'll want a family not me i like to be lonesome when i went to work for mrs thomas i was nineteen years old and i had to be had never slept a night in my life when there weren't three in the bed. I never had a minute

Starting point is 06:18:45 to myself except when I was off with a cattle. Usually, when Lena referred to her life in the country at all, she dismissed it with a single remark, humorous or mildly cynical. But tonight her mind seemed to dwell on those early years. She told me she couldn't remember a time when she was so little that she wasn't lugging a heavy baby about, helping to wash for babies, trying to keep their little chapped hands and faces clean. She remembered her. home is a place where there were always too many children, a cross man, and work piling up around a sick woman. It wasn't mother's fault. She would have made us comfortable if she could, but that was no life for a girl. After I began to herd and milk, I could never get the smell of the cattle off me. The few underclothes I had I kept in a cracker box.

Starting point is 06:19:35 On Saturday nights after everybody was in bed, then I could take a bath if I wasn't too tired, I could make two trips to the windmill to carry water and heat it in the wash-boiler on the stove. While the water was heating, I could bring in a wash-tub out of the cave and take my bath in the kitchen. Then I could put on a clean nightgown and get into bed with two others, who likely hadn't had a bath unless I'd given it to them. You can't tell me anything about family life. I've had plenty to last me. But it's not all like that, I objected.

Starting point is 06:20:09 Near enough. It's all being under somebody's dumb. What's on your mind, Jim? Are you afraid I'll want you to marry me someday? Then I told her I was going away. What makes you want to go away, Jim? Haven't I been nice to you? You've been just awfully good to me, Lena, I've alerted.

Starting point is 06:20:33 I don't think about much else. I never shall think about much else while I'm with you. I'll never settle down and grind if I should. stay here. You know that. I dropped down beside her and sat looking at the floor. I seemed to have forgotten all my reasonable explanations. Lena drew close to me, and the little hesitation in her voice that had hurt me was not there when she spoke again. I oughtn't to have begun it, ought I, she murmured. I oughtn't to have gone to see you that first time. But I did want to. I guess I've always been a little foolish about you.

Starting point is 06:21:12 I don't know what first put it into my head unless it was Antonya, always telling me I mustn't be up to any of my nonsense with you. I let you alone for a long while, though, didn't I? She was a sweet creature to those she loved that Lena Lingard. At last she sent me away with her soft, slow, renunciatory kiss. You aren't sorry I came to see you that time? She whispered. it seemed so natural i used to think i'd like to be your first sweetheart you were such a funny kid she always kissed one as if she were sadly and wisely sending one away forever

Starting point is 06:21:56 we said many good-byes before i left lincoln but she never tried to hinder me or hold me back you're going but you haven't gone yet have you she used to say my lincoln chapter closed abruptly i went home to my grandparents for a few weeks and afterward visited my relatives in virginia until i joined cleric in boston i was then nineteen years old end of chapter four end of book three lena linkert book four chapter one of my antonia this is a libervox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. My Antonia by Willa Kather Book 4 The Pioneer Woman's Story Chapter 1

Starting point is 06:23:00 Two years after I left Lincoln, I completed my academic course at Harvard. Before I entered the law school, I went home for the summer vacation. On the night of my arrival, Mrs. Harling and Francis and Sally came over to to greet me. Everything seemed just as it used to be. My grandparents looked very little older. Frances Harling was married now, and she and her husband managed the Harling interests in Blackhawk. When we gathered in Grandmother's Parlor, I could hardly believe that I had been away at all. One subject, however, we avoided all evening. When I was walking home with Francis, after we had left Mrs. Harling at her gate, she said simply,

Starting point is 06:23:49 you know of course about poor antonia poor antonia every one would be saying that now i thought bitterly i replied that grandmother had written me how antonia went away to marry larry donovan at some place where he was working and that he had deserted her and that there was now a baby this was all i knew he never married her said francis i haven't seen her since she came back she lives at home on the farm and almost never comes to town she brought the baby in to show it to mamma once i'm afraid she's settled down to be ambrosch's drudge for good i tried to shut antonia out of my mind i was bitterly disappointed in her i could not forgive her for becoming an object of pity well lena lindgarde for whom people had always foretold trouble was now the leading dressmaker of lincoln much respected in black hawk lena gave her heart away when she felt like it but she kept her head for business and had got on in the world. Just then it was a fashion to speak indulgently of Lena and severely of Tiny Soderball, who had gone quietly west to try her fortune the year before. A Black Hawk boy, just back from Seattle, brought the news that Tiny had not gone to the coast on a venture, as she had allowed people to think, but with very definite plans. One of the roving

Starting point is 06:25:13 promoters that used to stop at Mrs. Gardner's hotel owned idle property along the water, her front in Seattle, and he had offered to set Tiny up in business in one of his empty buildings. She was now conducting a sailor's lodging house. This, everyone said, would be the end of Tiny. Even if she had begun by running a decent place, she couldn't keep it up. All sailors' boarding houses were alike. When I thought about it, I discovered that I had never known Tiny as well as I knew the other girls. I remembered her tripping briskly about the dining room in her high heels. carrying a big tray full of dishes glancing rather pertly at the spruce travelling men and contemptuously at the scrubby ones who were so afraid of her that they didn't dare ask for two kinds of pie now it occurred to me that perhaps the sailors too might be afraid of tiny how astonished we would have been as we sat talking about her on francis harling's front porch if we could have known what her future was really to be of all the girls and boys who grew up together in black hawk tiny sawed

Starting point is 06:26:19 was to lead the most adventurous life and to achieve the most solid worldly success. This is what actually happened to Tiny. While she was running her lodging house in Seattle, gold was discovered in Alaska. Minors and sailors came back from the north with wonderful stories and pouches of gold. Tiny saw it and weighed it in her hands. That daring, which nobody had ever suspected in her, awoke. She sold her business and set out for Circle City, in company with a carpenter and his wife,

Starting point is 06:26:53 whom she had persuaded to go along with her. They reached Skagway in a snowstorm, went on dog sledges over the Chilkoch Pass, and shot the Yukon in flatboats. They reached Circle City on the very day when some seawash Indians came into the settlement with the report that there had been a rich gold strike farther up the river on a certain Klondite creek.

Starting point is 06:27:16 two days later tiny and her friends and nearly every one else in circle city started for the klondike fields on the last steamer that went up the yukon before it froze for the winter that boatload of people founded dawson city within a few weeks there were fifteen hundred homeless men in camp tiny and the carpenter's wife began to cook for them in a tent the miners gave her a lot and the carpenter put up a log hotel for her there she sometimes fed a hundred and fifty men a day miners came in on snow-shoes from their placer claims twenty miles away to buy fresh bread from her and paid for it in gold that winter tiny kept in her hotel a swede whose legs had been frozen one night in a storm when he was trying to find his way back to his cabin the poor fellow thought it great fortune to be cared for by a woman and a woman who spoke his own tongue when he was told that his feet must be amputated he said he hoped he would not get well what could a working man do in this hard world without feet he did in fact die from the operation but not before he had deeded tiny solderball his claim on hunker creek tiny sold her hotel invested half her money in dawson building lots and with the rest she developed her claim she went off into the wilds and lived on it she bought other claims from discouraged miners traded or sold them on percentages. After nearly ten years in the Klondike, Tiny returned, with a considerable fortune, to live in San Francisco. I met her in Salt Lake City in

Starting point is 06:28:54 2008. She was a thin, hard-faced woman, very well-dressed, very reserved in manner. Curiously enough, she reminded me of Mrs. Gardiner, for whom she had worked in Blackhawk so long ago. She told me about some of the desperate chances she had taken in the gold country, but the thrill of them was quite gone. She said frankly that nothing interested her much now but making money. The only two human beings of whom she spoke with any feeling were the Swede, Johnson, who had given her his claim, and Lena Lingard. She had persuaded Lena to come to San Francisco and to go into business there. Lincoln was never any place for her, Tiny remarked, In a town of that size, Lennie would always be gossiped about.

Starting point is 06:29:39 Frisk goes the right field for her. She has a fine class of trade. Oh, she's just the same as she always was. She's careless. But she's level-headed. She's the only person I know who never gets any older. It's fine for me to have her there. Somebody who enjoys things like that.

Starting point is 06:29:55 She keeps an eye on me and won't let me be shabby. When she thinks I need a new dress, she makes it and sends it home. With a bill that's long enough, I can tell you. tiny limped slightly when she walked the claim on hunker creek took toll from its possessors tiny had been caught in a sudden turn of weather like poor johnson she lost three toes from one of those pretty little feet that used to trip about black hawk and pointed slippers and striped stockings tiny mentioned this mutilation quite casually didn't seem sensitive about it she was satisfied with her success but not elated she was like some one in whom the faculty for becoming interested is worn out end of chapter one book four chapter two of my antonia this is a libervox recording all livervox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librivox dot org My Antonia by Willa Kather Book 4

Starting point is 06:31:03 The Pioneer Woman Story Chapter 2 Soon after I got home that summer I persuaded my grandparents to have their photographs taken And one morning I went to the photographer's shop To arrange for sittings While I was waiting for him to come out of his developing room I walked about trying to recognize the likenesses on his walls

Starting point is 06:31:26 girls and commencement dresses, country brides and grooms holding hands, family groups of three generations. I noticed, in a heavy frame, one of those depressing crayon enlargements, often seen in farmhouse parlors, the subject being a round-eyed baby in short dresses. The photographer came out and gave a constrained apologetic laugh. That's Tony Shemirda's baby. You remember her. She used to be the Harlings, Tony. Too bad. She seems proud of the baby, though. Wouldn't hear of a cheap frame for the picture. I expect her brother will be in for it Saturday. I went away feeling that I must see Antonia again. Another girl would have kept her baby out of sight.

Starting point is 06:32:15 But Tony, of course, must have its picture on exhibition at the town photographers, in a great guilt frame. How like her! I could forgive her, I told myself. if she hadn't thrown herself away on such a cheap sort of fellow. Larry Donovan was a passenger conductor, one of those trained crew aristocrats who are always afraid that someone may ask them to put up a car window, and who, if requested to perform such a menial service, silently point to the button that calls the porter.

Starting point is 06:32:47 Larry wore this air of official aloofness even on the street, where there were no car windows to compromise his dignity. at the end of his run he stepped indifferently from the train along with the passengers his street hat on his head and his conductor's cap in an alligator-skin bag went directly into the station and changed his clothes it was a matter of the utmost importance to him never to be seen in his blue trousers away from the train He was usually cold and distant with men, but with all women he had a silent, grave familiarity, a special handshake, accompanied by a significant, deliberate look. He took women, married or single, into his confidence, walked them up and down in the moonlight, telling them what a mistake he had made by not entering the office branch of the service, and how much better fitted he was to fill the post of general passenger agent in Denver

Starting point is 06:33:41 than the rough-shod man who then bore that title. his unappreciated worth was the tender secret larry shared with his sweethearts and he was always able to make some foolish heart ache over it as i drew near home that morning i saw mrs harling out in her yard digging round her mountain ash-tree it was a dry summer and she had now no boy to help her charlie was off in his battleship cruising somewhere on the caribbean sea i turned in at the gate it was with a feeling of pleasure that i opened and shut the gate in those days i liked the feel of it under my hand i took the spade away from mrs harling and while i loosened the earth around the tree she sat down on the steps and talked about the oriel family that had a nest in its branches "'Mrs. Harling,' I said presently, "'I wish I could find out exactly how Antonia's marriage fell through. "'Why don't you go out and see your grandfather's tenant, the widow Stevens? "'She knows more about it than anybody else.

Starting point is 06:34:47 "'She helped Antonia get ready to be married, "'and she was there when Antonia came back. "'She took care of her when the baby was born. "'She could tell you everything. "'Besides, the widow Stevens is a good talker, "'and she has a remarkable memory. End of Chapter 2 Book 4

Starting point is 06:35:12 Chapter 3 of My Antonia This is the Libervox recording All Libervox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer Please visit Libravox.org My Antenia By Willa Kather Book 4

Starting point is 06:35:30 The Pioneer Woman's Story Chapter 3 On the first or second day of August I got a horse and cart and set out for the high country to visit the widow Stevens. The wheat harvest was over, and here and there along the horizon I could see black puffs of smoke

Starting point is 06:35:50 from the steam thrashing machines. The old pasture land was now being broken up into wheat fields and cornfields. The red grass was disappearing, and the whole face of the country was changing. There were wooden houses where the old sod dwellings used to be, and little orchards and big red barns.

Starting point is 06:36:11 All this meant happy children, contented women, and men who saw their lives coming to a fortunate issue. The windy springs and blazing summers, one after another, had enriched and mellowed that flat table land. All the human effort that had gone into it was coming back in long, sweeping lines of fertility. The changes seemed beautiful and harmonious to me. It was like watching the growth of a great man or of a great idea.

Starting point is 06:36:41 I recognized every tree and sandbank and rugged draw. I found that I remembered the confirmation of the land as one remembers the modeling of human faces. When I drew up to our old windmill, the widow Stevens came out to meet me. She was brown as an Indian woman, tall and very strong. When I was little, her massive head had always seemed to me like a round. Roman senators. I told her at once why I had come. You'll stay the night with us, Jimmy. I'll talk to you after supper. I can take more interest when my work is off my mind. You've no prejudice against the hot biscuit for supper. Some have these days. While I was putting my horse away, I heard a rooster squawking.

Starting point is 06:37:27 I looked at my watch and sighed. It was three o'clock, and I knew that I must eat him at sick. after supper mrs stevens and i went upstairs to the old sitting-room while her grave silent brother remained in the basement to read his farm papers all the windows were open the white summer moon was shining outside the windmill was pumping lazily in the light breeze my hostess put the lamp on a stand in the corner and turned it low because of the heat She sat down her favorite rocking-chair, and settled a little stool comfortably under her tired feet. "'I'm troubled with calluses, Jim. Getting old!' she sighed cheerfully. She crossed her hands in her lap, and sat as if she were at a meeting of some kind. "'Now, it's about that dear Antonia you want to know. Well, you've come to the right person. I've watched her like she'd been my own daughter.

Starting point is 06:38:28 When she came home to do her sewing that summer, before she was to be married, she was over here about every day. They've never had a sewing machine at the Shemirdas, and she made all her things here. I taught her hymn stitching, and I helped her cut and fit. She used to sit here at that machine, by the window, peddling the life out of it, she was so strong, and always singing them queer bohemian songs like she was a happiest thing in the world. "'Antonia, I used to say, don't run that machine so fast, you won't hasten the day none that way.' Then she'd laugh and slow down for a little, but she'd soon forget and begin to pedal and sing again. I never saw a girl work harder to go to housekeeping right and well-prepared.

Starting point is 06:39:18 Lovely table-in and the Harlings had given her, and Lena Lengarde had sent her nice things from Lincoln. We hymn-stitched all the table-cloths and pillow-cases and some of the sheets. Old Mrs. Shemirda knit yards and yards of lace for her underclothes. Tony told me just how she meant to have everything in her house. She'd even bought silver spoons and forks and forks and kept them in her trunk. She was always coaxing brother to go to the post office. Her young man did ride her real often, from the different towns along his run. The first thing that troubled her was when he wrote that his run had been changed,

Starting point is 06:39:58 and they would likely have to live in Denver. "'I'm a country girl,' she said, "'and I doubt if I'll be able to manage so well for him in a city. I was counting on keeping chickens, and maybe a cow.' She soon cheered up, though. At last she got the letter telling her when to come. She was shaken by it. She broke the seal and read it in this room.

Starting point is 06:40:21 I suspected then that she'd begun to get faint-hearted waiting, though she'd never let me see it. Then there was a great time of packing. It was in March, if I remember rightly, and a terrible, muddy, raw spell with the roads bad for hauling her things to town. And here let me say, Ambrosch did the right thing. He went to Blackhawk and bought her a set of plated silver

Starting point is 06:40:47 in a purple velvet box, good enough for her station. He gave her three hundred dollars in money. I saw the check. He'd collected her wages all those first years she'd worked out, and it was but right. I shook him by the hand in this room. You're behaving like a man, Ambrosch, I said, and I'm glad to see it, son. T'was a cold, raw day he drove her and her three trunks, into Blackhawk to take the night train for Denver. The boxes had been shipped before. He stopped the way, here, and she ran in to tell me goodbye. She threw her arms around me and kissed me and thanked me for all I'd done for her. She was so happy she was crying and laughing at the same time, and her red cheeks was all wet with rain. "'You're surely handsome enough for any man,' I said, looking at her. She laughed kind of flighty-like, and whispered, goodbye, dear house, and then ran out into the wagon.

Starting point is 06:41:45 I expect she meant for you and your grandmother as much for me, so I'm particular to tell you. This house had always been a refuge to her. Well, in a few days we had a letter saying she had got to Denver safe, and he was there to meet her. They were to be married in a few days. He was trying to get his promotion before he married, she said. I didn't like that, but I said nothing. The next week, Jolka got a postcard saying she was well and happy.

Starting point is 06:42:14 But after that we heard nothing. A month went by, and old Mrs. Shemirda began to get fretful. Ambrosch was as sulky with me as if I'd picked out the man and arranged the match. One night, Brother William, came in and said that on his way back from the fields, he had passed a livery team from town, driving fast, out the west road. There was a trunk on the front seat with the driver and another behind. In the back seat there was a woman all bundled up. But for all her veils, he thought twas antonia Shamirda, or Antonia Donovan, as her name ought now to be,

Starting point is 06:42:50 the next morning i got brother to drive me over i can walk still but my feet ain't what they used to be and i try to save myself the lines outside the shemirda's house was full of washing though it was the middle of the week as i got nearer i saw a sight that made my heart sink all those underclothes we'd put so much work on out there swinging in the wind jolka came bringing a dishpan full of rung clothes but she darted back into the house like she was loath to see us. When I went in, Antonia was standing over the tubs, just finishing up a big washing. Mrs. Shimirda was going about her work, talking and scolding to herself.

Starting point is 06:43:33 She didn't so much as raise her eyes. Tony wiped her hand on her apron and held it out to me, looking at me steady but mournful. When I took her in my arm, she drew away. Don't, Mrs. Stevens, she says, you'll make me cry, and I don't want to. I whispered, and now. asked her to come out of doors with me i knew she couldn't talk free before her mother she went out with me bareheaded and we walked up toward the garden i'm not married mrs stevens she said to me very quiet and natural like and i ought to be oh my child says i what happened to you don't be afraid to tell me

Starting point is 06:44:09 she sat down in the drawside out of sight of the house he's run away from me she said i don't know if he ever meant to marry me you mean he's thrown up his job and quit the "'Huntry?' says I. He didn't have any job. He'd been fired. Blacklisted for knocking down fares. I didn't know. I thought he hadn't been treated right. He was sick when I got there. He'd just come out of the hospital. He lived with me till my money gave out, and afterwards I found he hadn't really been hunting for work at all. Then he just didn't come back. One nice fellow up at the station told me, when I kept going up for him, to give it up. He said he was afraid Larry'd gone bad and wouldn't come back anymore. I guess he's gone to Old Mexico.

Starting point is 06:44:54 The conductors get rich down there, collecting half-fares off the natives and robbing the company. He was always talking to fellows who had got ahead that way. I asked her, of course, why she didn't insist on a civil marriage at once. That would have given her some hold on him. She leaned her head on her hands, poor child, and said, I just don't know, Mrs. Stevens. I guess my patience was wore out, waiting so long.

Starting point is 06:45:18 I thought if he saw how well I could, could do for him he'd want to stay with me. Jimmy, I sat down on that bank beside her and made lament. I cried like a young thing. I couldn't help it. I was just about heart broke. It was one of them lovely warm May days, and the wind was blowing, and the colt jumping around in the pastures, but I felt bowed with despair.

Starting point is 06:45:40 My Antonia, that had so much good in her, had come home disgraced. And that Lena Lengarde, who was always the bad one, say what you will, had turned out so well and was coming home here every summer in her silks and her satins and doing so much for her mother i give credit where credit is due but you know well enough jim burdon that there is a great difference in the principles of those two girls and here it was that the good one had come to grief i was poor comfort to her i marveled at her calm as we went back to the house she stopped a feel of her clothes to see if they was drying well and seemed to take pride in their whiteness she said she'd been living in a brick block where she didn't have proper conveniences to wash them the next time i saw antonia she was out in the fields ploughing corn all that spring and summer she did the work of a man on the farm it seemed to be an understood thing ambrosch didn't get any other hand to help him poor merrick had got violent and been sent away to an institution a good while back we never saw any of tony's pretty dresses she didn't take him out of her trunks she was quiet and steady folks respected her industry and tried to treat her as if nothing had happened they talked to be sure but not like they would if she'd put on airs she was so crushed and quiet that nobody seemed to want to humble her she never went anywhere all that summer she never once came to see me At first I was hurt, but I got to feel that it was because this house reminded her of too much.

Starting point is 06:47:20 I went over there when I could, but the times when she was in from the fields were the times when I was busiest here. She talked about the grain and the weather, as if she'd never had another interest, and if I went over at night she always looked dead weary. She was afflicted with toothache, one tooth after another, ulcerated, and she went about with her face swollen half the time. she wouldn't go to Blackhawk to a dentist for fear of meeting people she knew. Ambrosch had got over his good spell long ago, and was always surly. Once I told him he ought not to let Antonia work so hard and pull herself down.

Starting point is 06:47:56 He said, If you put that in her head, you better stay home. And after that I did. Antonia worked on through harvest and thrashing, though she was too modest to go out thrashing for the neighbors, like when she was young and free. I didn't see much of her until late that fall when she had begun to hurt Ambrosch's cattle

Starting point is 06:48:16 and the open ground north of here, up toward the big dog town. Sometimes she used to bring them over the west hill there, and I would run to meet her and walk north a piece with her. She had thirty cattle in her bunch. It had been dry, and the pasture was short, or she wouldn't have brought them so far. It was a fine open fall, and she liked to be alone.

Starting point is 06:48:39 While the steers grazed, she used to. to sit on them grassy banks along the draws and sun herself for hours. Sometimes I slipped up to visit with her, when she hadn't gone too far. It does seem like I ought to make lace or knit like Lena used to, she said one day. But if I start to work, I look around and forget to go on. It seems like such a little while ago when Jim Burden and I was playing all over this country. Up here I can pick out the very places where my father used to stand. "'Sometimes I feel like I'm not going to live very long,

Starting point is 06:49:13 "'so I'm just enjoying every day of this fall. "'After the winter begun, "'she wore a man's long overcoat and boots, "'and a man's felt hat with a wide brim. "'I used to watch her coming and going, "'and I could see that her steps were getting heavier. "'One day in December the snow began to fall. "'Late in the afternoon I saw Antonia

Starting point is 06:49:32 "'driving her cattle homeward across the hill. "'The snow was flying round her, "'and she bent to face it, "'looking more lonesome-like to me. me than usual. Dear me, says I to myself, the girls stayed out too late. It'll be dark before she gets them cattle put into the corral. I seemed to sense she'd been feeling too miserable to get up and drive them. That very night it happened. She got her cattle home, turned them into the corral, and went into the house, into her room behind the kitchen, and shut the door. There without calling

Starting point is 06:50:01 anybody, without a groan, she lay down on the bed and bore her child. I was lifting supper, when Mrs. Shamirta came running down to the basement stairs, out of breath and screeching, Baby come, baby come, she says. Ambrosch-like devil! Brother William was surely a patient man. He was just ready to sit down to a hot supper, after a long day in the fields. Without a word, he rose and went down to the barn and hooked up his team. He got us over there as quick as it was humanly possible. I went right in, and began to do for Antonia. but she laid there with her eyes shut and took no account of me. The old woman got a tub full of warm water to wash the baby.

Starting point is 06:50:42 I overlooked what she was doing and said out loud, Mrs. Shemirda, you don't put that strong yellow soap near the baby. You'll blister its little skin. I was indignant. Mrs. Stevens, Antonia said from the bed, If you'll look in the top tray of my trunk, you'll see some fine soap. That was the first word she spoke. After I dressed the baby, I took it out to show Ambrosch.

Starting point is 06:51:06 He was muttering behind the stove and wouldn't look at it. You'd better put it in the rain barrel, he said. Now see here, Ambrosch, says I. There's a law in this land, don't forget that. I stand here a witness that this baby has come into the world sound and strong, and I intend to keep an eye on what befalls it. I pride myself I cowed him. Well, I expect you're not much interested in babies.

Starting point is 06:51:31 But Antonia's got on fine. She loved it from the first as dearly as if she'd had a ring on her finger and was never ashamed of it. It's a year and eight months old now, and no baby was ever better cared for. Antonia is a natural-born mother. I wish she could marry and raise a family, but I don't know as there's much chance now.

Starting point is 06:51:51 I slept that night in the room I used to have when I was a little boy, with a summer wind blowing in at the windows, bringing the smell of ripe fields. I lay awake and watched the moonlight shining over the barn in the stacks in the pond, and the windmill making its old dark shadow against the blue sky. End of Chapter 3. Book 4, Chapter 4 of My Antenia. This is a Librevox recording. All Librevox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org.

Starting point is 06:52:37 My Antenia, by Willa Kather. book four the pioneer woman's story chapter four the next afternoon i walked over to the shimerda's jolka showed me the baby and told me that antonia was shocking wheat on the southwest quarter i went down across the fields and tony saw me from a long way off she stood still by her shocks leaning on her pitchfork watching me as i came we met like people in the old song in silence if not in tears her warm hand clasped mine i thought you'd come jim i heard you were at mrs stevens last night i have been looking for you all day she was thinner than i had ever seen her and looked as mrs stephen said worked down but there was a new kind of strength in the gravity of her face and her color still gave her that look of deep seated health and ardor. Still, why, it flashed across me that though so much had happened in her life and mine, she was barely twenty-four years old. Antonya stuck her pitchfork in the ground, and instinctively we walked toward that unplowed patch at the crossing of the roads,

Starting point is 06:53:57 as the fittest place to talk to each other. We sat down outside the sagging-wire fence that shut Mr. Shimerto's plot off from the rest of the world. The tall red grass, had never been cut there. It had died down in winter and come up again in spring, until it was as thick and shrubby as some tropical garden grass. I found myself telling her everything, why I had decided to study law and go into the law office of one of my mother's relatives in New York City, about Gaston Cleric's death from pneumonia last winter, and the difference it had made in my life. She wanted to know about my friends and my way of living, and my dear of course it means you are going away from us for good she said with a sigh but that don't mean

Starting point is 06:54:46 I'll lose you look at my papa here he's been dead all these years and yet he is more real to me than almost anybody else he never goes out of my life I talk to him and consult him all the time the older I grow the better I know him and the more I understand him She asked me whether I had learned to like big cities. I'd always be miserable in a city. I'd die of lonesomeness. I like to be where I know every stack and tree and where all the ground is friendly.

Starting point is 06:55:21 I want to live and die here. Father Kelly says everybody's put into this world for something, and I know what I've got to do. I'm going to see that my little girl has a better chance than I ever had. I'm going to take care of that girl, Jim. I told her I knew she would. Do you know, Antonia, since I've been away? I think of you more often than of anyone else from this part of the world.

Starting point is 06:55:47 I'd have liked to have had you for a sweetheart or a wife, or my mother or my sister, anything that a woman can be to a man. The idea of you is a part of my mind. You influence my likes and dislikes, all my tastes, hundreds of times when I don't realize it. You really are a part of me. She turned her bright, believing eyes to me, and the tears came up in them slowly. How can it be like that? When you know so many people, and when I have disappointed you so? Ain't it wonderful, Jim, how much people can mean to each other. I'm so glad we had each other when we were little.

Starting point is 06:56:26 I can't wait till my little girl is old enough to tell her about all the things we used to do. You'll always remember me when you think about the old times, won't you? And I guess everybody thinks about the old times, even the happiest people. As we walked homeward across the fields, the sun dropped and lay like a great golden globe in the low west. While it hung there, the moon rose in the east, as big as a cartwheel, pale silver and streaked with rose color, thin as a bubble or a ghost moon. For five, perhaps ten minutes, the two luminaries. confronted each other across the level land resting on opposite edges of the world in that singular light every tree and shock of wheat every sunflower stalk and clump of snow on the mountain drew itself up high and pointed the very clods and furrows in the fields seemed to stand up sharply i felt the old pull of the earth the solemn magic that comes out of those fields at nightfall i wished that i could be a little boy again and that my way would end here

Starting point is 06:57:34 we reached the edge of the field where our ways parted i took her hands and held them against my breast feeling once more how strong and warm and good they were those brown hands and remember how many kind things they had done for me. I held them now a long while over my heart. About us, it was growing darker and darker, and I had to look hard to see her face, which I meant always to carry with me, the closest, realest face, under all the shadows of women's faces, at the very bottom of my memory. I'll come back, I said earnestly, through the soft, intrusive darkness. Perhaps you will. I felt rather than saw her smile.

Starting point is 06:58:19 But even if you don't, you're here, like my father, so I won't be lonesome. As I went back alone over that familiar road, I could almost believe that a boy and a girl ran alongside me, as our shadows used to do, laughing and whispering to each other in the grass. End of Chapter 4. Book 5, Chapter 1 of My Antonia. This is a Librevox recording. All Librevox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org My Antonia, by Willa Cather. Book 5, Cusick's Boys, Chapter 1 I told Antonia I would come back, but life intervened, and it was 20 years before I kept my promise. I heard of her from time to time that she married,

Starting point is 06:59:24 very soon after I last saw her, a young bohemian, a cousin of Antonia Leneck, that they were poor and had a large family. Once, when I was abroad, I went into Bohemia, and from Prague I sent Antonia some photographs of her native village. Months afterward came a letter from her, telling me the names and ages of her many children, but little else, signed, Your Old Friend, Antonia Cusack. When I met tiny Soderball in Salt Lake, she told me that Antonia had not done very well, that her husband was not a man of much force, and she had a hard life. Perhaps it was cowardice that kept me away so long. My business took me west several times every year, and it was always in the back of my mind that I would stop in Nebraska

Starting point is 07:00:11 some day and go to see, Antonia. But I kept putting it off until the next trip. I did not want to find her aged and broken. I really dreaded it. In the course of twenty crowded years won parts with many illusions. I did not wish to lose the early ones. Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again. I owe it to Lena lingered that I went to see Antonia at last. I was in San Francisco two summers ago when both Lena and Tiny Soder Ball were in town. Tiny lives in a house of her own, and Lena's shop is in an apartment house just around the corner. It interested me, after so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny, audits Lena's accounts occasionally and invests her money for her,

Starting point is 07:00:56 and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny doesn't grow too miserly. If there's anything I can't stand, she said to me in Tiny's presence, it's a shabby, rich woman. Tiny smiled grimly and assured me that Lena would never be either shabby or rich, and I don't want to be, the other agreed complacently. Lina gave me a cheerful account of Antonia and urged me to make her a visit. "'You really ought to go, Jim. It would be such a satisfaction to her. Never mind what Tiny says. There's nothing the matter with Cusick. You'd like him. He isn't a hustler, but a rough man would never have suited Tony. Tony has nice children, ten or eleven of them by this time, I guess. I shouldn't care for a family of that size myself, but somehow it's just right for Tony. She'd love to show them to you.'

Starting point is 07:01:45 On my way east I broke my journey at Hastings in Nebraska, and set off with an open buggy and a fairly good livery team to find the Cusick farm. At a little past midday I knew I must be nearing my destination. Set back on a swell of land at my right, I saw a wide farmhouse, with a red barn and an ash grove, and cattle yards in front that sloped down to the high road. I drew up my horses and was wondering whether I should drive in here when I heard low voices, ahead of me, in a plum-thicket beside the road, I saw two boys bending over a dead dog. The little one, not more than four or five, was on his knees, his hands folded, and his close-clipped, bare head drooping forward in deep dejection.

Starting point is 07:02:29 The other stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder, and was comforting him in a language I had not heard for a long while. When I stopped my horses opposite them, the older boy took his brother by the hand and came toward me. He too looked grave. evidently a sad afternoon for them. Are you Mrs. Cusick's boys? I asked. The younger one did not look up. He was submerged in his own feelings, but his brother met me with intelligent grey eyes.

Starting point is 07:02:58 Yes, sir? Does she live up there on the hill? I am going to see her. Get in and ride up with me. He glanced at his reluctant little brother. I guess we'd better walk, but we'll open the gate for you. I drove along the side road and they followed slowly behind. When I pulled up at the windmill, another boy, barefooted and curly-headed, ran out of the barn to tie my team for me. He was a handsome one, this chap, fair-skinned and freckled, with red cheeks and a ruddy pelt as thick as a lambswool, growing down on his neck in little tufts.

Starting point is 07:03:32 He tied my team with two flourishes of his hands, and nodded when I asked him if his mother was at home. As he glanced at me, his face dimpled with a seizure of irrelevant and merriment, and he shot up the windmill tower with a lightness that struck me as disdainful. I knew he was peering down at me as I walked toward the house. Ducks and geese ran quacking across my path. White cats were sunning themselves among yellow pumpkins on the porch steps. I looked through the wire screen into a big, light kitchen with a white floor.

Starting point is 07:04:01 I saw a long table, rows of wooden chairs against the wall, and a shining range in one corner. Two girls were washing dishes at the sink, laughing and chattering, and a little one in a short binafore sat on a stool playing with a rag-baby. When I asked for their mother, one of the girls dropped her towel, ran across the floor with noiseless bare feet, and disappeared. The older one, who wore shoes and stockings, came to the door to admit me. She was a buxom girl with dark hair and eyes, calm and self-possessed. Don't you come in? Mother will be here in a minute. Before I could sit down in the chair she offered me, the miracle happened. One of those quiet moments that clutch the heart, and take more courage than the noisy, excited

Starting point is 07:04:44 passages in life. Antonia came in and stood before me, a stalwart, brown woman, flat-chested, her curly brown hair a little grizzled. It was a shock, of course. It always is to meet people after long years, especially if they have lived as much and as hard as this woman had. We stood looking at each other. The eyes that peered anxiously at me were, simply Antonia's eyes.

Starting point is 07:05:07 I had seen no others like them since I looked into them last, though I had looked at so many thousands of human faces. As I confronted her, the changes grew less apparent to me, her identity stronger. She was there, in the full vigour of her personality, battered but not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. "'My husband's not at home, sir. Can I do anything?' "'Don't you remember me, Antonia? "'Have I changed so much?'

Starting point is 07:05:37 She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. "'Why, it's Jim! Anna, Yulka, it's Jim Burden!' She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed. "'What's happened? Is anybody dead?'

Starting point is 07:05:59 I patted her arm. No, I didn't come to a funeral this time. I got up the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and your family. She dropped my hand and began rushing about. Anton Yulke, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, and hunt for the boys. They're off looking for that dog somewhere. And call Leo.

Starting point is 07:06:19 Where is that Leo? She pulled them out of corners and came bringing them like a mother cat, bringing in her kittens. You don't have to go right off, Jim. My oldest boy's not here. He's gone with his papa to the street fair at Wilbur. I won't let you go. You've got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa!'

Starting point is 07:06:35 She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While I reassured her and told her there would be plenty of time, the bare-footed boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about her. Now tell me their names and how old they are. As she told the moth in turn, she made several mistakes about ages, and they roared with laughter. When she came to my light-footed friend of the windmill, she said, "'This is Leo, and he's old enough to be better than he is.'

Starting point is 07:07:02 He ran up to her and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate. "'You forgot. You always forget mine. It's mean. Please tell him, Mother.' He clenched his fists in vexation and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her forefinger in his yellow fleece and pulled it, watching him. "'Well, how old are you?' "'I'm twelve,' he panted, looking not at me but at her. twelve years old and I was born on Easter Day."

Starting point is 07:07:32 She nodded to me. It's true, he was an Easter baby. The children all looked at me as if they expected me to exhibit astonishment or delight at this information. Clearly they were proud of each other, and of being so many. When they had all been introduced, Anna, the eldest daughter, who had met me at the door, scattered them gently, and came bringing a white apron which she tied round her mother's waist. Now, mother, sit down and talk to Mr. Burden.

Starting point is 07:07:58 We'll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you." Antonio looked about, quite distracted. "'Yes, child, but why don't we take him into the parlor, now that we've got a nice parlor for company?' The daughter laughed indulgently, and took my hat from me. "'Well, you're here, mother, and if you talk here, Yulka and I can listen, too. You can show him the parlor after a while.' She smiled at me and went back to the dishes with her sister.

Starting point is 07:08:23 The little girl with the rag doll found a place on the bottom step of an enclosed back stairway, and sat with her toes curled up, looking out at us expectantly. She's Nina, after Nina Harling, Antonia explained. Ain't her eyes like Nina's? I declare, Jim, I loved you children almost as much as I love my own. These children know all about you, and Charlie and Sally, like as if they'd grown up with you. I can't think of what I want to say, you've got me so stirred up, and then I forgot my English so. I don't often talk it anymore. I tell the children I used to speak real well. She said they always spoke, but The little ones could not speak English at all, didn't learn it until they went to school.

Starting point is 07:09:02 I can't believe it's you, sitting here in my own kitchen. You wouldn't have known me, would you, Jim? You've kept so young yourself, but it's easier for a man. I can't see how my Anton looks any older than the day I married him. His teeth have kept so nice. I haven't got many left, but I feel just as young as I used to, and I can do as much work. Oh, we don't have to work so hard now. We've got plenty to help us, Papa and me. And how many have you got to got Jim? When I told her I had no children, she seemed embarrassed. Oh, ain't that too bad? Maybe you could take one of my bad ones now. That Leo, he's the worst of all. She leaned toward me with a smile. And I love him the best, she whispered. Mother! The two girls murmured reproachfully

Starting point is 07:09:45 from the dishes. Antonia threw up her head and laughed. I can't help it. You know I do. Maybe it's because he came on Easter Day. I don't know. And he's never out of mischief one minute. And he's never out of mischief one minute. I was thinking, as I watched her, how little it mattered, about her teeth, for instance. I know so many women who have kept all the things that she had lost, but whose inner glow has faded. Whatever else was gone, Antonia had not lost the fire of life. Her skin, so brown and hardened, her skin so brown and hardened, had not that look of flabbiness as if the sap beneath it had been secretly drawn away. While we were talking, the little boy whom they called Jan, came in and sat down on the step beside Nina, under the hood of the stairway. He wore a funny,

Starting point is 07:10:31 long gingham apron like a smock over his trousers, and his hair was clipped so short that his head looked white and naked. He watched us out of his big, sorrowful gray eyes. "'He wants to tell you about the dog, mother. They found it dead,' Anna said as she passed us on her way to the cupboard. Antonia beckoned the boy to her. He stood by her chair, leaning his elbows on her knees and twisting her apron strings in his slender fingers, while he told her his story softly in bohemian, and the tears brimmed over and hung on his long lashes. His mother listened, spoke soothingly to him, and in a whisper promised him something that made him give her a quick, teary smile. He slipped away and whispered his secret to Nina, sitting close to her and

Starting point is 07:11:13 talking behind his hand. When Anna finished her work and had washed her hands, she came and stood behind her mother's chair. "'Why don't we show Mr. Bird in our new fruit cave?' she asked. We started off across the yard with the children at our heels. The boys were standing by the windmill, talking about the dog. Some of them ran ahead to open the cellar door. When we descended, they all came down after us, and seemed quite as proud of the cave as the girls were. Ambrosch, the thoughtful-looking one, who had directed me down by the plum-bushes, called my attention to the stout brick walls on the cement floor. Yes, it is a good one. We're in the good one. We're way from the house, he admitted. But you see, in winter, there are nearly always some of us around to

Starting point is 07:11:54 come out and get things. Anna and Yilke showed me three small barrels, one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds. You wouldn't believe, Jim, what it takes to feed them all, their mother exclaimed. You ought to see the bread we bake on Wednesdays and Saturdays. It's no wonder their poor papa can't get rich. He has to buy so much sugar for us to preserve with. We have our own wheat ground for flour, but then there's that much less to sell. Nina and Jan, and a little girl named Lucy, kept shyly pointing out to me the shelves of glass jars. They said nothing, but glanced at me, traced on the glass with their fingertips the outline of the cherries and strawberries and crab-apples within, trying by a blissful

Starting point is 07:12:37 expression of countenance to give me some idea of their deliciousness. Show him the spiced plums, mother. "'Americans don't have those,' said one of the older boys. "'Mother uses them to make calacches,' he added. "'Leo, in a low voice, tossed off some scornful remark in Bohemian. "'I turned to him. "'You don't think I know what colloches are, eh? "'You're mistaken, young man. "'I've eaten your mother's colloches long before that Easter day when you were born.'

Starting point is 07:13:05 "'Always too fresh, Leo,' Ambrosch remarked with a shrug. "'Leo dived behind his mother and grinned out at me. We turned to leave the cave. Antonia and I went up the stairs first, and the children waited. We were standing outside talking when they all came running up the steps together, big and little, toe-heads and gold-heads and brown, and flashing little naked legs, a veritable explosion of life out of the dark cave into the sunlight. It made me dizzy for a moment.

Starting point is 07:13:34 The boys escorted us to the front of the house, which I hadn't yet seen. In farmhouses somehow life comes and goes by the back door. The roof was so steep that the eaves were not much above the forest of tall hollyhocks, now brown and in seed. Through July, Antonia said, the house was buried in them. The bohemians, I remembered, always planted hollyhocks. The front yard was enclosed by a thorny locust hedge, and at the gate grew two silvery, moth-like trees of the mimosa family.

Starting point is 07:14:02 From here one looked down over the cattle-yards, with their two long ponds, and over a wide stretch of stubble which they told me was a rye field in summer. At some distance behind the house were an ash grove and two orchards, a cherry orchard with gooseberry and current bushes between the rows, and an apple orchard, sheltered by a high hedge from the hot winds. The older children turned back when we reached the hedge, but Jan and Nina and Lucy crept through it by a hole known only to themselves, and hid under the low-branching mulberry bushes. As we walked through the apple orchard, grown up in tall bluegrass, Antonia kept stopping to tell me about one tree and another. "'I love them as if they were people,' she said, "'rubbing her hands over the bark.

Starting point is 07:14:45 "'There wasn't a tree here when we first came. "'We planted everyone, and used to carry water for them, too, "'after we'd been working in the fields all day. "'Anton, he was a cityman, and he used to get discouraged. "'But I couldn't feel so tired that I wouldn't fret about those trees "'when there was a dry time. "'They were on my mind like children. "'Many a night after he was asleep I've got up

Starting point is 07:15:06 "'and come out and carried water to the poor things. "'And now, you see, we have the good of them. My man worked in the orange groves in Florida, and he knows all about grafting. There ain't one of our neighbors has an orchard that bears like ours. In the middle of the orchard we came upon a grape arbor, with seats built along the sides and a warped plank table. The three children were waiting for us there. They looked up at me bashfully and made some request of their mother.

Starting point is 07:15:32 They want me to tell you how the teacher has the school picnic here every year. These don't go to school yet, so they think it's all like the picnic. After I had admired the arbor sufficiently, the youngsters ran away to an open place where there was a rough jungle of French pinks and squatted down among them, crawling about and measuring with a string. Jan wants to bury his dog there, Antonia explained. I had to tell him he could. He's kind of like Nina Harling. You remember how hard she used to take little things? He has funny notions like her. We sat down and watched them. Antonia leaned her elbows on the table. There was the deepest peace and that orchard. It was surrounded by a triple enclosure, the wire fence, then the hedge of thorny locusts, then the mulberry hedge which kept out the hot winds of summer and held fast to the protecting snows of winter. The hedges were so tall that we could see nothing but the blue sky

Starting point is 07:16:25 above them, neither the barn roof nor the windmill. The afternoon sun poured down on us through the drying grape leaves. The orchard seemed full of sun like a cup, and we could smell the ripe apples on the trees. The crabs hung on the branches as thick as beads on a string, purple-red, with a thin silvery glaze over them. Some hens and ducks had crept through the hedge and were pecking at the fallen apples. The drakes were handsome fellows, with pinkish-gray bodies, their heads and necks covered with iridescent green feathers which grew close and full, changing to blue like the peacock's neck. Antunia said they always reminded her of soldiers, some uniform she had seen in the old country when she was a child.

Starting point is 07:17:05 "'Are there any quail left now?' I asked. "'I reminded her how she used to go hunting with me the last summer before we moved to town. "'You weren't a bad shot, Tony. "'Do you remember how you used to want to run away and go for ducks with Charlie Harling and me?' "'I know, but I'm afraid to look at a gun now.' She picked up one of the drakes and ruffled his green capote with her fingers. "'Ever since I've had children I don't like to kill anything. "'It makes me kind of faint to ring an old goose's neck.

Starting point is 07:17:32 "'Ain't that strange, Jim?' "'I don't know. The young queen of Italy said the same thing once to a friend of mine. "'She used to be a great huntswoman, but now she feels as you do, and only shoots clay pigeons.' "'Then I'm sure she's a good mother,' Antonia said warmly. "'She told me how she and her husband had come out to this new country when the farmland was cheap and could be had on easy payments. The first ten years were a hard struggle. Her husband knew very little about farming and often grew discouraged. We'd never have got through if I hadn't been so strong. I've always had good health, thank God, and I was able to help him

Starting point is 07:18:08 in the fields until right up to the time before my babies came. Our children were good about taking care of each other. Martha, the one you saw when she was a baby, was such a help to me, and she trained Anna to be just like her. My Martha's married now, and has a baby of her own. Think of that, Jim. No, I never got downhearted. Anton's a good man, and I loved my children and always believed they would turn out well. I belong on a farm. I'm never lones a little, here like I used to be in town. You remember what sad spells I used to have when I didn't know what was the matter with me. I've never had them out here, and I don't mind work a bit if I don't have to put up with sadness. She leaned her chin on her hand and looked down through the orchard,

Starting point is 07:18:48 where the sunlight was growing more and more golden. "'You ought never have gone to town, Tony,' I said, wondering at her. She turned to me eagerly. "'Oh, I'm glad I went. I'd never have known anything about cooking or housekeeping if I hadn't. I learned nice ways at the Harlings, and I've been able to bring my children up so much better. Don't you think they are pretty well-behaved for country children? If it hadn't been for what Mrs. Harling taught me, I expect I'd have brought them up like wild rabbits. Now I'm glad I had a chance to learn, but I'm thankful none of my daughters will ever have to work out.

Starting point is 07:19:20 The trouble with me was, Jim, I never could believe harm of anybody I loved. While we were talking, Antonia assured me that she could keep me for the night. We've plenty of room. Two of the boys sleep in the hamo till cold weather comes, but there's no need for it. Leo always begs to sleep there, and Ambrosch goes along to look after him. I told her I would like to sleep in the haymow with the boys. You can do just as you want to. The chest is full of clean blankets put away for winter.

Starting point is 07:19:48 Now I must go where my girls will be doing all the work, and I want to cook your supper myself. As we went toward the house, we met Ambrosch and Anton, starting off with their milking pails to hunt the cows. I joined them, and Leo accompanied us at some distance, running ahead and starting up at us out of clumps of ironweed calling, "'I'm a jack-rabbit!' or, I'm a big bull-snake. I walked between the two older boys, straight, well-made fellows, with good heads and clear eyes. They talked about their school and their new teacher, told me about the crops and the harvest, and how many steers they would feed that winter. They were easy and confidential with me, as if I were an old friend of the family, and not too old.

Starting point is 07:20:29 I felt like a boy in their company, and all manner of forgotten interests revived in me. It seemed, after all, so natural to be walking along a barbed-wire fence beside the sunset, toward a red pond, and to see my shadow moving along at my right, over the close-cropped grass. "'Has Mother shown you the pictures you sent her from the old country?' Ambrosch asked. "'We've had them framed and they're hung up in the parlour. She was so glad to get them. I don't believe I ever saw her so pleased about anything.' There was a note of simple gratitude in his voice that made me wish I had given more occasion for it.

Starting point is 07:21:02 I put my hand on his shoulder. Your mother, you know, was very much loved by all of us. She was a beautiful girl. Oh, we know. They both spoke together, seemed a little surprised that I should think it necessary to mention this. Everybody liked her, didn't they? The Harlings and your grandmother, and all the town people. Sometimes, I ventured, it doesn't occur to boys that their mother was ever young and

Starting point is 07:21:26 "'Oh, we know,' they said again warmly. "'She's not very old now,' Ambrosch added. "'Not much older than you.' "'Well,' I said, "'if you weren't nice to her, "'I think I'd take a club and go for the whole lot of you. "'I couldn't stand it if you boys were inconsiderate, "'or thought of her as if she were just somebody who looked after you.

Starting point is 07:21:44 "'You see, I was very much in love with your mother once, "'and I know there's nobody like her.' "'The boys laughed and seemed pleased and embarrassed. "'She never told us that,' said Anton. "'But she's always talked long. about you and about what good times you used to have. She has a picture of you that she cut out of the Chicago paper once, and Leo says he recognized you when you drove up to the windmill. You can't tell about Leo, though. Sometimes he likes to be smart. We brought the cows home to the

Starting point is 07:22:11 corner nearest the barn, and the boys milked them while the night came on. Everything was, as it should be, the strong smell of sunflowers and ironweed in the dew, the clear blue and gold of the sky, the evening star, the pur of the milk into the pails, the greener of the milk into the pails, grunts and squeals of the pigs fighting over their supper. I began to feel the loneliness of the farm-boy at evening, when the chores seem everlastingly the same, and the world so far away. What a tableful we were at supper! Two long rows of restless heads in the lamplight, and so many eyes fastened excitedly upon Antonia, as she sat at the head of the table, filling the plates and starting the dishes on their way. The children were seated according to

Starting point is 07:22:51 a system, a little one next to an older one, who was to watch over his behavior and that he got his food. Anna and Yulka left their chairs from time to time to bring fresh plates of collagies and pitchers of milk. After supper we went into the parlour so that Yulke and Leo could play for me. Antonia went first, carrying the lamp. There were not nearly chairs enough to go around, so the younger children sat down on the bare floor. Little Lucy whispered to me that they were going to have a parlor carpet if they got ninety cents for their wheat. Leo, with a good deal of fussing, got out his violin. It was old Mr. Shimerda. instrument, which Antonia had always kept, and it was too big for him, but he played very well

Starting point is 07:23:31 for a self-taught boy. Poor Yulka's efforts were not so successful. While they were playing, little Nina got up from her corner, came out into the middle of the floor, and began to do a pretty little dance on the boards with her bare feet. No one paid the least attention to her, and when she was through, she stole back and sat down by her brother. Antonia spoke to Leo and Bohemian. He frowned and wrinkled up his face. He seemed to be trying to pout, but his attempt only brought out dimples in unusual places. After twisting and screwing the keys, he played some bohemian airs, without the organ to hold him back, and that went better. The boy was so restless that I had not had a chance to look at his face before. My first impression was right. He really was fawn-like. He hadn't

Starting point is 07:24:16 much head behind his ears, and his tawny fleece grew down thick to the back of his neck. His eyes were not frank and wide apart like those of the other boys, but were deep-set, gold-green in color, and seemed sensitive to the light. His mother said he got hurt oftener than all the others put together. His mother said he got hurt oftener than all the others put together. He was always trying to ride the colts before they were broken, teasing the turkey-gobler, seeing just how much red the bull would stand for, or how sharp the new axe was. After the concert was over, Antonia brought out a big box full of photographs. She and Anton in their wedding clothes, holding hands, her brother Ambrosch and his very fat wife, who had a farm of her own,

Starting point is 07:24:57 and who bossed her husband, I was delighted to hear, the three Bohemian Marys and their large families. You wouldn't believe how steady those girls have turned out, Antonia remarked. Mary's Foboda's the best buttermaker in all this country, and a fine manager. Her children will have a grand chance. As Antonia turned over the pictures, the young Cusick stood behind her chair, looking over her shoulder with interested faces. Nina and Jan, after trying to see round the taller ones, quietly brought a chair, climbed up on it, and stood close together, looking. A little boy forgot his shyness and grinned delightedly when familiar faces came into view. In the group about Antonia, I was conscious of a kind of physical harmony.

Starting point is 07:25:40 They leaned this way and that, and were not afraid to touch each other. They contemplated. the photographs with pleased recognition, looked at some admiringly, as if these characters and their mother's girlhood had been remarkable people. The little children, who could not speak English, murmured comments to each other in their rich old language. Antonia held out a photograph of Lena that had come from San Francisco last Christmas. Does she still look like that? She hasn't been home for six years now. Yes, it was exactly like Lena, I told her. A comely woman, a trifle too plump, in a hat a trifle too large. but with the old lazy eyes and the old dimpled ingenuousness still lurking at the corners of her mouth.

Starting point is 07:26:20 There was a picture of Francis Harling in a befrogged writing costume that I remembered well. "'Isn't she fine?' the girls murmured. They all assented. One could see that Francis had come down as a heroine in the family legend. Only Leo was unmoved. And there's Mr. Harling in his grand fur coat. He was awfully rich, wasn't he, mother? He wasn't any Rockefeller, put in Master Leo in a very low tone, which reminded me of the way in which Mrs. Shimereda had once said that my grandfather wasn't Jesus. His habitual skepticism was like a direct inheritance from that old woman. None of your smart speeches, said Ambrosch severely. Leo poked out a supple red tongue at him, but a moment later broke into a giggle at a tin type

Starting point is 07:27:04 of two men, uncomfortably seated, with an awkward-looking boy and baggy clothes standing between them. Jake and Otto and I, we had it taken, I remembered, when we went to Black Hawk on the first Fourth of July I spent in Nebraska. I was glad to see Jake's grin again, and Otto's ferocious mustaches. The young Cusics knew all about them. He made Grandfather's coffin, didn't he? Anton asked. Wasn't they good fellows, Jim? Antonia's eyes filled. To this day I'm ashamed because I quarreled with Jake that way. I was saucy and impertinent to him, Leo, just like you are with people sometimes, and I wish somebody had made me behave. We aren't through with you yet, they warned me. They produced a photograph taken just before I went away to

Starting point is 07:27:48 college, a tall youth in striped trousers and a straw hat, trying to look easy and jaunty. "'Tell us, Mr. Burden,' said Charlie, about the rattler you killed at the dog-town. How long was he? Sometimes mother says six feet, and sometimes she says five. These children seemed to be upon very much the same terms with Antonia as the Harling children had been so many years before. They seemed to feel the same pride in her, and to look to her for stories and entertainment as we used to do. It was eleven o'clock when I at last took my bag and some blankets and started for the barn with the boys. Their mother came to the door with us, and we tarried for a moment to look out at the white slope of the corral and the two ponds asleep in the moonlight, and the long sweep of the pasture

Starting point is 07:28:32 under the star-sprinkled sky. The boys told me to choose my own place in the hamo, and I lay down before a big window, left open and warm weather, that looked out to the house. into the stars. Ambrosch and Leo cuddled up in a hay cave back under the eaves and lay giggling and whispering. They tickled each other and tossed and tumbled in the hay, and then, all at once, as if they had been shot, they were still. There was hardly a minute between giggles and bland slumber. I lay awake for a long while until the slow-moving moon passed my window on its way up the heavens. I was thinking about Antonia and her children, about Anna's solicitude for her, Ambrosch's grave affection, Leo's jealous, animal little love. That moment, when they all came

Starting point is 07:29:15 tumbling out of the cave into the light, was a sight any man might have come far to see. Antonia had always been one to leave images in the mind that did not fade, that grew stronger with time. In my memory there was a succession of such pictures, fixed there like the old woodcuts of one's first primer. Antonia, kicking her bare legs against the side of my pony when we came home in triumph with our snake, Antonia in her black shawl and fur cap as she stood by her father's grave in the snowstorm, Antonia, coming in with her work team along the evening skyline. She lent herself to immemorial human attitudes which we recognize by instinct as universal and true. I had not been mistaken. She was a battered woman now, not a lovely girl, but she still had that something

Starting point is 07:29:59 which fires the imagination, could still stop one's breath for a moment by a look or gesture that somehow revealed the meaning in common things. She had only to stand in the orchard, to put her hand on a little crab-tree and look up at the apples, to make you feel the goodness of planting and tending and harvesting at last. All the strong things of her heart came out in her body that had been so tireless in serving generous emotions. It was no wonder that her sons stood tall and straight. She was a rich mine of life, like the founders of early races. End of Chapter 1 of Book 5. Read by Rachel Ellen, January 14, 2008.

Starting point is 07:30:43 Book 5, Chapter 2 of My Antonia. This is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. My Antonia, by Willa Cather. Book 5 Cusix Boys Chapter 2

Starting point is 07:31:06 When I awoke in the morning Long bands of sunshine were coming in the window and reaching back under the eaves where the two boys lay Leo was wide awake and was tickling his brother's leg with a dried cone flower

Starting point is 07:31:21 he had pulled out of the hay Ambrosch kicked at him and turned over I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep Leo lay on his back elevated one foot and began exercising his toes. He picked up dried flowers with his toes and brandished them in the belt of sunlight.

Starting point is 07:31:38 After he had amused himself thus for some time, he rose on one elbow and began to look at me, cautiously, then critically, blinking his eyes in the light. His expression was droll, it dismissed me lightly. This old fellow is no different from other people. He doesn't know my secret. He seemed conscious of possessing

Starting point is 07:31:58 a keener power of enjoyment than other people. His quick recognitions made him frantically impatient of deliberate judgments. He always knew what he wanted without thinking. After dressing in the hay, I washed my face in cold water at the windmill. Breakfast was ready when I entered the kitchen, and Yulka was baking griddle cakes. The three older boys set off for the fields early. Leo and Yulka were to drive to town to meet their father, who would return from Wilbur on the noon train.

Starting point is 07:32:28 We'll only have a lunch at noon. Antonia said, and cook the geese for supper, when our papa will be here. I wish my Martha could come down to see you. They have a Ford car now, and she doesn't seem so far away from me as she used to. But her husband's crazy about his farm and about having everything just right, and they almost never get away except on Sundays. He's a handsome boy, and he'll be rich someday. Everything he takes hold of turns out well. When they bring that baby in here and unwrap him, he looks like a little Prince Martha takes care of him so beautiful. I'm reconciled to her for being away from me now, but at first I cried like I was putting her into her coffin. We were alone in the kitchen,

Starting point is 07:33:10 except for Anna, who was pouring cream into the churn. She looked up at me. Yes, she did. We were just ashamed of Mother. She went around crying when Martha was so happy, and the rest of us were all glad. Joe certainly was patient with you, Mother. Antonia nodded and smiled at herself. I know it was silly, but I couldn't help it. I wanted her right here. She'd never been away from me a night since she was born. If Anton had made trouble about her when she was a baby or wanted me to leave her with my mother, I wouldn't have married him. I couldn't, but he always loved her like she was his own. I didn't even know Martha wasn't my full sister until after she was engaged to Joe, Anna told me. Toward the middle of the afternoon the wagon drove in with the father and the eldest son. I was smoking in the orchard, and as I went out to meet them, Antonia came running down from the house and hugged the two men as if they had been away for months.

Starting point is 07:34:07 Papa interested me, from my first glimpse of him. He was shorter than his older sons, a crumpled little man, with run over boot heels, and he carried one shoulder higher than the other. But he moved very quickly, and there was an air of jaunty liveliness about him. He had a strong, reddy color, thick black hair, a little grizzled, a curly mustache, and red lips. His smile showed the strong teeth of which his wife was so proud, and as he saw me, his lively, quizzical eyes told me that he knew all about me. He looked like a humorous philosopher who had hitched up one shoulder under the burdens of life and gone on his way having a good

Starting point is 07:34:44 time when he could. He advanced to meet me and gave me a hard hand, burned red on the back, and heavily coated with hair. He wore his waist. He wore his way. Sunday clothes, very thick and hot for the weather, an unstarched white shirt, and a blue necktie with big white dots, like a little boys, tied in a flowing bow. Cusick began at once to talk about his holiday. From politeness he spoke in English. "'Mama, I wish you had see the lady dance on the slack wire in the street at night. They throw a bright light on her, and she float through the air something beautiful, like a bird. They have a dancing bear like in the old country, and two-three marigel round, and people in balloons, and what do you call the big wheel,

Starting point is 07:35:25 Rudolph? A ferris wheel. Rudolph entered the conversation in a deep baritone voice. He was six-foot-two, and had a chest like a young blacksmith. We went to the big dance in the hall behind the saloon last night, mother, and I danced with all the girls, and so did father. I never saw so many pretty girls. It was a bo-hunk crowd for sure. We didn't hear a word of English on the street, except from show people, did we, Papa?' Cusick nodded. "'And very many send word to you, Antonia, you will excuse,' turning to me, if I tell her. While we walked toward the house he related incidents and delivered messages in the tongue he spoke

Starting point is 07:36:04 fluently, and I dropped a little behind, curious to know what their relations had become, or remained. The two seemed to be on terms of easy friendliness, touched with humor. Clearly she was the impulse, and he the corrective. As they went up the hill he kept glancing at her sidewise to see whether she got his point or how she received it. I noticed later that he always looked at people sidewise, as a workhorse does at its yoke-mate. Even when he sat opposite me in the kitchen, talking, he would turn his head a little toward the clock or the stove and look at me from the side, but with frankness and good nature. This trick did not suggest duplicity or secretiveness, but merely long habit, as with the horse. He had brought a tin type of himself and Rudolph for Antonia's collection

Starting point is 07:36:49 and several paper bags of candy for the children. He looked a little disappointed when his wife showed him a big box of candy I had got in Denver. She hadn't let the children touch it the night before. He put his candy away in the cupboard, for when she rains, and glanced at the box, chuckling. I guess you must have hear about how my family ain't so small, he said. Cusick sat down behind the stove and watched his women. and the little children with equal amusement. He had been off dancing with the girls and forgetting that he was an old fellow, and now his family rather surprised him. He seemed to think it a joke

Starting point is 07:37:25 that all these children should belong to him. As the younger ones slipped up to him in his retreat, he kept taking things out of his pockets, penny dolls, a wooden clown, a balloon pig that was inflated by a whistle. He beckoned to the little boy they called yawn, whispered to him, and presented him with a paper snake, gently so as not to startle him. Looking over the boy's head, he said to me, "'This one is bashful. He gets left.' Cusick had brought home with him a role of illustrated bohemian papers. He opened them and began to tell his wife the news,

Starting point is 07:37:57 much of which seemed to relate to one person. I heard the name Vazakova, Vasakovar repeated several times with a lively interest, and presently I asked him whether he were talking about the singer, Maria Vazak. "'You know? You have heard maybe?' he asked in critical. When I assured him that I had heard her, he pointed out her picture and told me that Vassik had broken her leg, climbing in the Austrian Alps, and would not be able to fill her engagements. He seemed delighted to find that I had heard her sing in London and in Vienna, got out his pipe and lit it to enjoy our talk the better. She came from his part of Prague. His father used to mend

Starting point is 07:38:36 her shoes for her when she was a student. Cusick questioned me about her looks, her popularity, her voice, but he particularly wanted to know whether I had noticed her tiny feet and whether I thought she had saved much money. She was extravagant, of course, but he hoped she wouldn't squander everything and have nothing left when she was old. As a young man, working in Vienne, he had seen a good many artists who were old and poor, making one glass of beer last all evening, and it was not very nice that. When the boys came in from milking and feeding, the long table was laid, and two brown geese, stuffed with apples, were put down sizzling before Antonia. She began to carve, and Rudolph, who sat next to his mother, started the plates on their way.

Starting point is 07:39:22 When everybody was served, he looked across the table at me. Have you been to Blackhawk lately, Mr. Burden? Then I wonder if you've heard about the cutters? No, I had heard nothing at all about them. Then you must tell him, son, though it's a terrible thing to talk about at supper. Now, all you children be quiet. Rudolph is going to tell about the men. murder. Hurrah, the murder, the children murmured, looking pleased and interested. Rudolph told his story in great detail, with occasional promptings from his mother or father.

Starting point is 07:39:54 Wick Cutter and his wife had gone on living in the house that Antonia and I knew so well, and in the way we knew so well. They grew to be very old people. He shriveled up, Antonia said, until he looked like a little old yellow monkey, for his beard and his fringe of hair never changed color. Mrs. Cutter remained flushed and wild-eyed as we had known her, but as the years passed she became afflicted with a shaking palsy, which made her nervous nod continuous instead of occasional. Her hands were so uncertain that she could no longer disfigure China, poor woman. As the couple grew older, they quarreled more and more about the ultimate disposition of their property. A new law was passed in the state, securing the surviving wife, a third of

Starting point is 07:40:35 her husband's estate, under all conditions. Cutter was tormented by the fear that Mrs. Cutter would live longer than he, and that eventually her people, whom he had always hated so violently, would inherit, their quarrels on this subject passed the boundary of the close-growing cedars, and were heard in the street by whoever wished to loiter and listen. One morning, two years ago, Cutter went into the hardware store and bought a pistol, saying he was going to shoot a dog, and adding that he thought he would take a shot at an old cat while he was about it. Here the children interrupted Rudolph's narrative. by smothered giggles. Cutter went out behind the hardware store, put up a target, practiced for an hour

Starting point is 07:41:16 or so, and then went home. At six o'clock that evening, when several men were passing the Cutterhouse on their way home to supper, they heard a pistol shot. They paused, and were looking doubtfully at one another, when another shot came crashing through an upstairs window. They ran into the house and found Wick Cutter lying on a sofa in his upstairs bedroom, with his throat torn open, bleeding on a roll of sheets he had placed beside his head. "'Walk in, gentlemen,' he said weakly. "'I am alive, you see, and competent. "'You are witnesses that I have survived my wife.

Starting point is 07:41:51 "'You will find her in her own room. "'Please make your examination at once, "'so that there will be no mistake.' "'One of the neighbours telephoned for a doctor, "'while the others went into Mrs. Cutter's room. "'She was lying on her bed in her night, "'on unwrapper, shot through the heart. Her husband must have come in while she was taking her afternoon nap and shot her,

Starting point is 07:42:11 holding the revolver near her breast. Her nightgown was burned from the powder. The horrified neighbors rushed back to Cutter. He opened his eyes and said distinctly, Mrs. Cutter is quite dead, gentlemen, and I am conscious. My affairs are in order. Then, Rudolph said, he let go and died. On his desk the coroner found a letter.

Starting point is 07:42:37 dated at five o'clock that afternoon. It stated that he had just shot his wife, that any will she might secretly have made would be invalid, as he survived her. He meant to shoot himself at six o'clock, and would, if he had strength, fire a shot through the window, in the hope that passers-by might come in and see him, before life was extinct, as he wrote. Now, would you have thought that that man had such a cruel heart? Antonia turned to me, after the story was told, to go and do that poor woman out of any comfort she might, have from his money after he was gone. Did you ever hear of anybody else that killed himself for spite, Mr. Burden?

Starting point is 07:43:16 asked Rudolph. I admitted that I hadn't. Every lawyer learns over and over how strong emotive hate can be, but in my collection of legal anecdotes I had nothing to match this one. When I asked how much the estate amounted to, Rudolph said it was a little over a hundred thousand dollars. Cusick gave me a twinkling, sidelong glance. "'The lawyers, they got a good deal of it, sure,' he said merrily.

Starting point is 07:43:42 "'A hundred thousand dollars, so that was the fortune that had been scraped together by such hard dealing, and that Cutter himself had died for in the end. After supper, Cusick and I took a stroll in the orchard and sat down by the windmill to smoke. He told me his story as if it were my business to know it. His father was a shoemaker, his uncle a furrier, and he, being a younger son, was apprenticed to latter's trade. You never got anywhere working for your relatives, he said, so when he was a journeyman, he went to Vienna and worked in a big fur shop, earning good money. But a young fellow who liked a good time didn't save anything in Vienna. There were too many pleasant ways of spending every

Starting point is 07:44:23 night what he'd made in the day. After three years there, he came to New York. He was badly advised and went to work on furs during a strike when the factories were offering big wages. The strikers one, and Cusick was blacklisted. As he had a few hundred dollars ahead, he decided to go to Florida and raise oranges. He had always thought he would like to raise oranges. The second year, a hard frost killed his young grove, and he fell ill with malaria. He came to Nebraska to visit his cousin, Antonielanek, and to look about. When he began to look about, he saw Antonia, and she was exactly the kind of girl he had always been hunting for. They were married at once, though he had to borrow money from his cousin to buy the wedding ring.

Starting point is 07:45:07 It was a pretty hard job breaking up this place and making the first crops grow, he said, pushing back his hat and scratching his grizzled hair. Sometimes I get awful sore on this place and want to quit, but my wife, she always say we better stick it out. The babies come along pretty fast, so it looked like it'd be hard to move anyhow. I guess she was right, all right. We got this place clear now. We pay only $20 an acre then, and I've been offered a hundred.

Starting point is 07:45:33 We bought another quarter ten years ago, and we got it most paid for. We got plenty boys. We can work a lot of land. Yes, she is a good wife for a poor man. She ain't always so strict with me neither. Sometimes maybe I drink a little too much beer in town, and when I come home she don't say nothing. She'll don't ask me no questions. We always get a long fine her and me like at first. The children don't make trouble between us, like sometimes happens. He lit another pipe and pulled on it contentedly. I found Cusack a most companionable fellow. He asked me a great many questions about my trip through Bohemia, about Vienna, and the Rings Thrass, and the theatres. Gee, I'd like to go back there once when the boys is big enough to farm the place. Sometimes when I read the papers from the old country, I pretty near run away, he confessed with a little laugh. I never did think how I would be a settled man like this.

Starting point is 07:46:28 He was still, as Antonia said, a city man. He liked theatres and lighted streets and music and a game of dominoes after the day's work was over. His sociability was stronger than his acquisitive instinct. He liked to live day by day and night by night, sharing in the excitement of the crowd. Yet his wife had managed to hold him here on a farm in one of the loneliest countries in the world. I could see the little chap, sitting here every evening by the windmill, nursing his pipe and listening to the silence, the wheeze of the pump, the grunting of the pigs, an occasional squawking when the hens were disturbed by a rat.

Starting point is 07:47:05 It did rather seem to me that Cusick had been made the instrument of Antonia's special mission. This was a fine life, certainly, but it wasn't the kind of life he had wanted to live. I wondered whether the life that was right for one was ever right for two. I asked Cusick if he didn't find it hard to do without the gay company he had always been used to. He knocked his pipe against an upright, sighed, and dropped it in his pocket. At first I ne'ne go crazy with lonesomeness, he said frankly, but my woman has got such a warm heart. She always make it as good for me as she could. Now it ain't so bad. I can begin to have some fun with my boys already. As we walked toward the house, Cusick cocked his hat jauntily over one ear

Starting point is 07:47:49 and looked up at the moon. "'Gee,' he said in a hushed voice, as if he had just wakened up, It don't seem like I am away from there 26 year. End of Chapter 2 of Book 5, recorded by Rachel Ellen in Yosemite, California. My Antonia, by Willa Cather. Book 5, Pusix Boys, Chapter 3. After dinner the next day I said goodbye and drove back to Hastings to take the train for Black Hawk.

Starting point is 07:48:24 Antonia and her children gathered round my buggy before I started, and even the little ones looked up at me with friendly faces. Leo and Ambrosch ran ahead to open the lane gate. When I reached the bottom of the hill, I glanced back. The group was still there by the windmill. Antonia was waving her apron. At the gate Ambrosch lingered beside my buggy, resting his arm on the wheel-rim. Leo slipped through the fence and ran off into the pasture. That's like him, his brother said with a shrug.

Starting point is 07:48:56 He's a crazy kid. Maybe he's sorry to have you go, and maybe he's jealous. He's jealous of anybody mother makes a fuss over, even the priest. I found I hated to leave this boy, with his pleasant voice and his fine head and eyes. He looked very manly as he stood there without a hat, the wind dribbling his shirt about his brown neck and shoulders. Don't forget that you and Rudolph are going hunting with me, "'Up on the Niobrara next summer,' I said.

Starting point is 07:49:24 "'Your father's agreed to let you off after harvest.' He smiled. "'I won't likely forget. I've never had such a nice thing offered to me before. I don't know what makes you so nice to us boys,' he added, blushing. "'Oh, yes, you do,' I said, gathering up my reins. He made no answer to this except to smile at me with unabashed pleasure and affection as I drove away.

Starting point is 07:49:47 My day in Black Hawk was disappointing. Most of my old friends were dead or had moved away. Strange children, who meant nothing to me, were playing in the Harlings' big yard when I passed. The mountain ash had been cut down, and only a sprouting stump was left of the tall Lombardi poplar that used to guard the gate. I hurried on. The rest of the morning I spent with Anton Yelanick, under a shady cottonwood tree in the yard behind his saloon. While I was having my midday dinner at the hotel, I met one of the old lawyers who was still in practice, and he took me up to his office and talked over the cutter case with me. After that I scarcely knew how to put in the time until the

Starting point is 07:50:27 night express was due. I took a long walk north of the town, out into the pastures where the land was so rough that it had never been plowed up, and the long red grass of early times still grew shaggy over the draws and hillocks. Out there I felt at home again. Overhead the sky was that indescribable blue of autumn, bright and shadowless, hard as enamel. To the south I could see the dun-shaded river bluffs that used to look so big to me, and all about stretched drying cornfields of the pale gold color I remembered so well. Russian thistles were blowing across the uplands and piling against the wire fences like barricades. Along the cattle paths, the plumes of goldenrod were already fading into sun-worned velvet, gray with gold threads in it. I had escaped

Starting point is 07:51:14 from the curious depression that hangs over little towns, and my mind was full of pleasant things. Trips I meant to take with the Cusick boys, in the badlands and up on the stinking water. There were enough Cusicks to play with for a long while yet. Even after the boys grew up, there would always be Cusick himself. I meant to tramp along a few miles of lighted streets with Cusick. As I wandered over those rough pastures, I had the good luck to stumble upon a bit of the first road that went from Blackhawk, out to the north country, to my grandfather's farm, then on to the Shimerdas, and to the Norwegian settlement.

Starting point is 07:51:50 Everywhere else it had been plowed under when the highways were surveyed. This half-mile or so within the pasture fence was all that was left of that old road which used to run like a wild thing across the open prairie, clinging to the high places and circling and doubling like a rabbit before the hounds. On the level land the tracks had almost disappeared, were mere shadings in the grass, and a stranger would not have noticed them. But wherever the road had crossed a draw, it was easy to find. The rains had made channels of the wheel-ruts and washed them so deep that the sod had never healed over them. They looked like gashes torn by a grizzlies claws, on the slopes where the farm wagons used to lurch up out of the hollows

Starting point is 07:52:30 with a pull that brought curling muscles on the smooth hips of the horses. I sat down and watched the haystacks turn rosy in the slanting sunlight. This was the road over which Antonia and I came on that night when we got off the train at Blackhawk and were bedded down in the straw, wondering children, being taken we knew not whither. I had only to close my eyes to hear the rumbling of the wagons in the dark, and to be again overcome by that obliterating strangeness. The feelings of that night were so near that I could reach out and touch them with my hand. I had the sense of coming home to myself, and of having found out what a little circle man's experience is. For Antonia and me, this had been the road of destiny, had taken us to those early accidents of fortune which predetermined for us all that we can ever be. Now I understood that the same road was to bring us together again. Whatever we had missed, we possessed together the precious, the incommunicable past. End of Chapter 3 of Book 5. And end of My Antonya by Willa Cather.

Classic Audiobook Collection - My Antonia by Willa Cather ~ Full Audiobook [drama]

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