After the concert was over, Antonia brought out a big boxful of
photographs: she and Anton in their wedding clothes, holding hands; her
brother Ambrosch and his very fat wife, who had a farm of her own, and who
bossed her husband, I was delighted to hear; the three Bohemian Marys and
their large families.
`You wouldn't believe how steady those girls have turned out,' Antonia
remarked. `Mary Svoboda's the best butter-maker in all this country, and a
fine manager. Her children will have a grand chance.'
As Antonia turned over the pictures the young Cuzaks stood behind her
chair, looking over her shoulder with interested faces. Nina and Jan,
after trying to see round the taller ones, quietly brought a chair, climbed
up on it, and stood close together, looking. The little boy forgot his
shyness and grinned delightedly when familiar faces came into view. In the
group about Antonia I was conscious of a kind of physical harmony. They
leaned this way and that, and were not afraid to touch each other. They
contemplated the photographs with pleased recognition; looked at some
admiringly, as if these characters in their mother's girlhood had been
remarkable people. The little children, who could not speak English,
murmured comments to each other in their rich old language.
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