pavement, like the quay of some splendid
sea-coast city, doomed to destruction. Great
warm splashes of rain fell on our upturned
faces. One black cloud, no bigger than a little
boat, drifted out into the clear space unat-
tended, and kept moving westward. All about
us we could hear the felty beat of the rain-
drops on the soft dust of the farmyard. Grand-
mother 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
live to see this summer. I wish no winter ever
come again."

"It will be summer a long while yet," I re-
assured 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."

[[159]]

p158x6b _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p159w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p160

v?