We saw more of our country neighbours now than when we lived on the farm.
Our house was a convenient stopping-place for them. We had a big barn
where the farmers could put up their teams, and their womenfolk more often
accompanied them, now that they could stay with us for dinner, and rest and
set their bonnets right before they went shopping. The more our house was
like a country hotel, the better I liked it. I was glad, when I came home
from school at noon, to see a farm-wagon standing in the back yard, and I
was always ready to run downtown to get beefsteak or baker's bread for
unexpected company. All through that first spring and summer I kept hoping
that Ambrosch would bring Antonia and Yulka to see our new house. I wanted
to show them our red plush furniture, and the trumpet-blowing cherubs the
German paperhanger had put on our parlour ceiling.
When Ambrosch came to town, however, he came alone, and though he put his
horses in our barn, he would never stay for dinner, or tell us anything
about his mother and sisters. If we ran out and questioned him as he was
slipping through the yard, he would merely work his shoulders about in his
coat and say, `They all right, I guess.'
Mrs. Steavens, who now lived on our farm, grew as fond of Antonia as we had
been, and always brought us news of her.
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