the train at Black Hawk. 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. 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
while, Mrs. Shimerda; make good house.'
My grandmother always spoke in a very loud tone to foreigners, as if
they were deaf. She made Mrs. Shimerda understand the friendly intention
of our visit, and the Bohemian woman handled the loaves of bread
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, Ambroz--they called it Ambrosch--came out of the cave
and stood beside his mother. He was nineteen 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 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 colour. Her
brown hair was curly and wild-looking. The little sister, whom they
called Yulka (Julka), was fair, and seemed mild and obedient. While I
stood awkwardly confronting the two girls, Krajiek came up from the barn
to see what was going on. With him was another Shimerda son. Even from a
distance one could see that there was something strange about this boy.
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-hoo!' like a rooster. His mother scowled
and said sternly, 'Marek!' then spoke rapidly to Krajiek in Bohemian.
'She wants me to tell you he won't hurt nobody, Mrs. Burden. He was
born like that. The others are smart. Ambrosch, he make good farmer.' He
struck Ambrosch on the back, and the boy smile
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