dalling the life out of
it--she was so strong--and always singing them queer Bohemian songs,
like she was the 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. Lovely table-linen the Harlings
had given her, and Lena Lingard had sent her nice things from Lincoln.
We hemstitched all the tablecloths and pillow-cases, and some of
the sheets. Old Mrs. Shimerda 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 kept them in her
trunk. She was always coaxing brother to go to the post-office. Her
young man did write 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, 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. 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 Black Hawk and bought her a set of plated silver in a purple
velvet box, good enough for her station. He gave her three hundred
dollars in money; I saw the cheque. He'd collected her wages all those
first years she 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."

''Twas a cold, raw day he drove her and her three trunks into Black Hawk
to take the night train for Denver--the boxes had been shipped before.
He stopped the wagon here, and she ran in to tell me good-bye. 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