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, over the boot-tops. She
kept her sleeves rolled up all day, and her
arms and throat were burned as brown as a
sailor's. Her neck came up strongly out of
her shoulders, like the bole of a tree out of the
turf. One sees that draft-horse neck among
the peasant women in all old countries.

She greeted me gayly, and began at once to
tell me how much ploughing she had done
that day. Ambrosch, she said, was on the
north quarter, breaking sod with the oxen.

"Jim, you ask Jake how much he ploughed
today. I don't want that Jake get more done
in one day than me. I want we have very
much corn this fall."

While the horses drew in the water, and
nosed each other, and then drank again, An-
tonia sat down on the windmill step and
rested her head on her hand. "You see the
big prairie fire from your place last night? I
hope your grandpa ain't lose no stacks?"

"No, we didn't. I came to ask you some-
thing, Tony. Grandmother wants to know if
you can't go to the term of school that begins

[[140]]

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v?