pin-headed guinea-hens, always resentful of
captivity, ran screeching out into the tunnel and tried to poke their
ugly, painted faces through the snow walls. By five o'clock the chores
were done--just when it was time to begin them all over again! That was a
strange, unnatural sort of day.

XIV

ON the morning of the 22d I wakened with a start. Before I opened my eyes,
I seemed to know that something had happened. I heard excited voices in
the kitchen--grandmother's was so shrill that I knew she must be almost
beside herself. I looked forward to any new crisis with delight. What
could it be, I wondered, as I hurried into my clothes. Perhaps the barn
had burned; perhaps the cattle had frozen to death; perhaps a neighbor was
lost in the storm.

Down in the kitchen grandfather was standing before the stove with his
hands behind him. Jake and Otto had taken off their boots and were rubbing
their woolen socks. Their clothes and boots were steaming, and they both
looked exhausted. On the bench behind the stove lay a man, covered up with
a blanket. Grandmother motioned me to the dining-room. I obeyed
reluctantly. I watched her as she came and went, carrying dishes. Her lips
were tightly compressed and she kept whispering to herself: "Oh, dear
Saviour!" "Lord, Thou knowest!"

Presently grandfather came in and spoke to me: "Jimmy, we will not have
prayers this morning, because we have a great deal to do. Old Mr. Shimerda
is dead, and his family are in great distress. Ambrosch came over here in
the middle of the night, and Jake and Otto went back with him. The boys
have had a hard night, and you must not bother them with questions. That
is Ambrosch, asleep on the bench. Come in to breakfast, boys."

After Jake and Otto had swallowed their first cup of coffee, they began to
talk excitedly, disregarding grandmother's warning glances. I held my
tongue, but I listened with all my ears.

"No, sir," Fuchs said in answer to a question from grandfather, "nobody
heard the gun go off. Ambrosch was out with the ox team, trying to break a
road, and the women folks was shut up tight in their cave. When Ambrosch
come in it was dark and he did n't see nothing, but the oxen acted kind of
queer. One of 'em ripped around and got away from him--bolted clean out of
the stable. His hands is blistered where the rope run through. He got a
lantern and went back and found the old man, just as we seen him."

"Poor soul, poor soul!" grandmo