She begged Antonia and me to go with her, and help get
her cattle together; they were scattered and might be gorging themselves in
somebody's cornfield.
`Maybe you lose a steer and learn not to make somethings with your eyes at
married men,' Mrs. Shimerda told her hectoringly.
Lena only smiled her sleepy smile. `I never made anything to him with my
eyes. I can't help it if he hangs around, and I can't order him off. It
ain't my prairie.'
V
AFTER LENA CAME To Black Hawk, I often met her downtown, where she would be
matching sewing silk or buying `findings' for Mrs. Thomas. If I happened
to walk home with her, she told me all about the dresses she was helping to
make, or about what she saw and heard when she was with Tiny Soderball at
the hotel on Saturday nights.
The Boys' Home was the best hotel on our branch of the Burlington, and all
the commercial travellers in that territory tried to get into Black Hawk
for Sunday. They used to assemble in the parlour after supper on Saturday
nights. Marshall Field's man, Anson Kirkpatrick, played the piano and sang
all the latest sentimental songs. After Tiny had helped the cook wash the
dishes, she and Lena sat on the other side of the double doors between the
parlour and the dining-room, listening to the music and giggling at the
jokes and stories.
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