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Cather, Willa Sibert, 1873-1947

"My Antonia"

I was counting on keeping chickens, and maybe a cow." She soon
cheered up, though.
`At last she got the letter telling her when to come. She was shaken by
it; she broke the seal and read it in this room. I suspected then that
she'd begun to get faint-hearted, waiting; though she'd never let me see
it.
`Then there was a great time of packing. It was in March, if I remember
rightly, and a terrible muddy, raw spell, with the roads bad for hauling
her things to town. And here let me say, Ambrosch did the right thing. He
went to Black Hawk and bought her a set of plated silver in a purple velvet
box, good enough for her station. He gave her three hundred dollars in
money; I saw the cheque. He'd collected her wages all those first years
she worked out, and it was but right. I shook him by the hand in this
room. "You're behaving like a man, Ambrosch," I said, "and I'm glad to see
it, son."
`'Twas a cold, raw day he drove her and her three trunks into Black Hawk to
take the night train for Denver--the boxes had been shipped before. He
stopped the wagon here, and she ran in to tell me good-bye. She threw her
arms around me and kissed me, and thanked me for all I'd done for her. She
was so happy she was crying and laughing at the same time, and her red
cheeks was all wet with rain.


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