Near it tilted a shattered windmill frame, that had
no wheel. We drove up to this skeleton to tie our horses, and then I saw a
door and window sunk deep in the drawbank. The door stood open, and a
woman and a girl of fourteen ran out and looked up at us hopefully. A
little girl trailed along behind them. The woman had on her head the same
embroidered shawl with silk fringes that she wore when she had alighted
from 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.
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