. Jake came in again, this time with a sack of
potatoes. Grandmother looked about in perplexity.

'Haven't you got 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. Bushy, at the post-office what he throw out. We got no
potatoes, Mrs. Burden,' Tony admitted mournfully.

When Jake went out, Marek crawled along the floor and stuffed up the
door-crack again. Then, quietly as a shadow, Mr. Shimerda came out from
behind the stove. He stood brushing his hand over his smooth grey 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 and a pile of straw.
The old man held the lantern. 'Yulka,' he 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. 'It is very cold on the floor, and this
is warm like the badger hole. I like for sleep there,' she insisted
eagerly. 'My mamenka have nice bed, with pillows from our own geese in
Bohemie. See, Jim?' She pointed to the narrow bunk which Krajiek had
built against the wall for himself before the Shimerdas 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 while,
Antonia, and then you will forget these hard times.'

Mr. Shimerda 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. 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 Krajiek for the land, and bought his horses and oxen
and some old farm machinery, they had very little money left. He wished
grandmother to know, however, that he still