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“But even if you don’t, you’re here, like my father. So I won’t be lonesome.” | Antonia | rather than saw her smile.<|quote|>“But even if you don’t, you’re here, like my father. So I won’t be lonesome.”</|quote|>As I went back alone | “Perhaps you will” —I felt rather than saw her smile.<|quote|>“But even if you don’t, you’re here, like my father. So I won’t be lonesome.”</|quote|>As I went back alone over that familiar road, I | see her face, which I meant always to carry with me; the closest, realest face, under all the shadows of women’s faces, at the very bottom of my memory. “I’ll come back,” I said earnestly, through the soft, intrusive darkness. “Perhaps you will” —I felt rather than saw her smile.<|quote|>“But even if you don’t, you’re ... | feeling once more how strong and warm and good they were, those brown hands, and remembering how many kind things they had done for me. I held them now a long while, over my heart. About us it was growing darker and darker, and I had to look hard to see her face, which I meant always to carry with me; the closest, real... | resting on opposite edges of the world. In that singular light every little tree and shock of wheat, every sunflower stalk and clump of snow-on-the-mountain, drew itself up high and pointed; the very clods and furrows in the fields seemed to stand up sharply. I felt the old pull of the earth, the solemn magic that come... | The idea of you is a part of my mind; you influence my likes and dislikes, all my tastes, hundreds of times when I don’t realize it. You really are a part of me.” She turned her bright, believing eyes to me, and the tears came up in them slowly. “How can it be like that, when you know so many people, and when I’ve disa... | health and ardor. Still? Why, it flashed across me that though so much had happened in her life and in mine, she was barely twenty-four years old. Ántonia stuck her fork in the ground, and instinctively we walked toward that unploughed patch at the crossing of the roads as the fittest place to talk to each other. We sa... | and the more I understand him.” She asked me whether I had learned to like big cities. “I’d always be miserable in a city. I’d die of lonesomeness. I like to be where I know every stack and tree, and where all the ground is friendly. I want to live and die here. Father Kelly says everybody’s put into this world for som... | My Antonia |
As I went back alone over that familiar road, I could almost believe that a boy and girl ran along beside me, as our shadows used to do, laughing and whispering to each other in the grass. BOOK V—CUZAK’S BOYS I I TOLD Ántonia I would come back, but life intervened, and it was twenty years before I kept my pr... | No speaker | So I won’t be lonesome.”<|quote|>As I went back alone over that familiar road, I could almost believe that a boy and girl ran along beside me, as our shadows used to do, laughing and whispering to each other in the grass. BOOK V—CUZAK’S BOYS I I TOLD Ántonia I would come back, but life intervened, and it was... | you’re here, like my father. So I won’t be lonesome.”<|quote|>As I went back alone over that familiar road, I could almost believe that a boy and girl ran along beside me, as our shadows used to do, laughing and whispering to each other in the grass. BOOK V—CUZAK’S BOYS I I TOLD Ántonia I would come back, bu... | under all the shadows of women’s faces, at the very bottom of my memory. “I’ll come back,” I said earnestly, through the soft, intrusive darkness. “Perhaps you will” —I felt rather than saw her smile. “But even if you don’t, you’re here, like my father. So I won’t be lonesome.”<|quote|>As I went back alone over that fa... | remembering how many kind things they had done for me. I held them now a long while, over my heart. About us it was growing darker and darker, and I had to look hard to see her face, which I meant always to carry with me; the closest, realest face, under all the shadows of women’s faces, at the very bottom of my memory... | shock of wheat, every sunflower stalk and clump of snow-on-the-mountain, drew itself up high and pointed; the very clods and furrows in the fields seemed to stand up sharply. I felt the old pull of the earth, the solemn magic that comes out of those fields at nightfall. I wished I could be a little boy again, and that ... | dislikes, all my tastes, hundreds of times when I don’t realize it. You really are a part of me.” She turned her bright, believing eyes to me, and the tears came up in them slowly. “How can it be like that, when you know so many people, and when I’ve disappointed you so? Ain’t it wonderful, Jim, how much people can mea... | in her life and in mine, she was barely twenty-four years old. Ántonia stuck her fork in the ground, and instinctively we walked toward that unploughed patch at the crossing of the roads as the fittest place to talk to each other. We sat down outside the sagging wire fence that shut Mr. Shimerda’s plot off from the res... | cities. “I’d always be miserable in a city. I’d die of lonesomeness. I like to be where I know every stack and tree, and where all the ground is friendly. I want to live and die here. Father Kelly says everybody’s put into this world for something, and I know what I’ve got to do. I’m going to see that my little girl ha... | My Antonia |
“Your old friend, Ántonia Cuzak.” | Antonia | children, but little else; signed,<|quote|>“Your old friend, Ántonia Cuzak.”</|quote|>When I met Tiny Soderball | and ages of her many children, but little else; signed,<|quote|>“Your old friend, Ántonia Cuzak.”</|quote|>When I met Tiny Soderball in Salt Lake, she told | they were poor, and had a large family. Once when I was abroad I went into Bohemia, and from Prague I sent Ántonia some photographs of her native village. Months afterward came a letter from her, telling me the names and ages of her many children, but little else; signed,<|quote|>“Your old friend, Ántonia Cuzak.”</|quo... | V—CUZAK’S BOYS I I TOLD Ántonia I would come back, but life intervened, and it was twenty years before I kept my promise. I heard of her from time to time; that she married, very soon after I last saw her, a young Bohemian, a cousin of Anton Jelinek; that they were poor, and had a large family. Once when I was abroad I... | which I meant always to carry with me; the closest, realest face, under all the shadows of women’s faces, at the very bottom of my memory. “I’ll come back,” I said earnestly, through the soft, intrusive darkness. “Perhaps you will” —I felt rather than saw her smile. “But even if you don’t, you’re here, like my father. ... | the low west. While it hung there, the moon rose in the east, as big as a cartwheel, pale silver and streaked with rose color, thin as a bubble or a ghost-moon. For five, perhaps ten minutes, the two luminaries confronted each other across the level land, resting on opposite edges of the world. In that singular light e... | made in my life. She wanted to know about my friends and my way of living, and my dearest hopes. “Of course it means you are going away from us for good,” she said with a sigh. “But that don’t mean I’ll lose you. Look at my papa here; he’s been dead all these years, and yet he is more real to me than almost anybody els... | singular light every little tree and shock of wheat, every sunflower stalk and clump of snow-on-the-mountain, drew itself up high and pointed; the very clods and furrows in the fields seemed to stand up sharply. I felt the old pull of the earth, the solemn magic that comes out of those fields at nightfall. I wished I c... | My Antonia |
When I met Tiny Soderball in Salt Lake, she told me that Ántonia had not | No speaker | “Your old friend, Ántonia Cuzak.”<|quote|>When I met Tiny Soderball in Salt Lake, she told me that Ántonia had not</|quote|>“done very well” ; that | children, but little else; signed, “Your old friend, Ántonia Cuzak.”<|quote|>When I met Tiny Soderball in Salt Lake, she told me that Ántonia had not</|quote|>“done very well” ; that her husband was not a | a large family. Once when I was abroad I went into Bohemia, and from Prague I sent Ántonia some photographs of her native village. Months afterward came a letter from her, telling me the names and ages of her many children, but little else; signed, “Your old friend, Ántonia Cuzak.”<|quote|>When I met Tiny Soderball in ... | Ántonia I would come back, but life intervened, and it was twenty years before I kept my promise. I heard of her from time to time; that she married, very soon after I last saw her, a young Bohemian, a cousin of Anton Jelinek; that they were poor, and had a large family. Once when I was abroad I went into Bohemia, and ... | carry with me; the closest, realest face, under all the shadows of women’s faces, at the very bottom of my memory. “I’ll come back,” I said earnestly, through the soft, intrusive darkness. “Perhaps you will” —I felt rather than saw her smile. “But even if you don’t, you’re here, like my father. So I won’t be lonesome.”... | hung there, the moon rose in the east, as big as a cartwheel, pale silver and streaked with rose color, thin as a bubble or a ghost-moon. For five, perhaps ten minutes, the two luminaries confronted each other across the level land, resting on opposite edges of the world. In that singular light every little tree and sh... | wanted to know about my friends and my way of living, and my dearest hopes. “Of course it means you are going away from us for good,” she said with a sigh. “But that don’t mean I’ll lose you. Look at my papa here; he’s been dead all these years, and yet he is more real to me than almost anybody else. He never goes out ... | end there. We reached the edge of the field, where our ways parted. I took her hands and held them against my breast, feeling once more how strong and warm and good they were, those brown hands, and remembering how many kind things they had done for me. I held them now a long while, over my heart. About us it was growi... | My Antonia |
“done very well” | Tiny | me that Ántonia had not<|quote|>“done very well”</|quote|>; that her husband was | in Salt Lake, she told me that Ántonia had not<|quote|>“done very well”</|quote|>; that her husband was not a man of much | I sent Ántonia some photographs of her native village. Months afterward came a letter from her, telling me the names and ages of her many children, but little else; signed, “Your old friend, Ántonia Cuzak.” When I met Tiny Soderball in Salt Lake, she told me that Ántonia had not<|quote|>“done very well”</|quote|>; that... | kept my promise. I heard of her from time to time; that she married, very soon after I last saw her, a young Bohemian, a cousin of Anton Jelinek; that they were poor, and had a large family. Once when I was abroad I went into Bohemia, and from Prague I sent Ántonia some photographs of her native village. Months afterwa... | the very bottom of my memory. “I’ll come back,” I said earnestly, through the soft, intrusive darkness. “Perhaps you will” —I felt rather than saw her smile. “But even if you don’t, you’re here, like my father. So I won’t be lonesome.” As I went back alone over that familiar road, I could almost believe that a boy and ... | and streaked with rose color, thin as a bubble or a ghost-moon. For five, perhaps ten minutes, the two luminaries confronted each other across the level land, resting on opposite edges of the world. In that singular light every little tree and shock of wheat, every sunflower stalk and clump of snow-on-the-mountain, dre... | “Of course it means you are going away from us for good,” she said with a sigh. “But that don’t mean I’ll lose you. Look at my papa here; he’s been dead all these years, and yet he is more real to me than almost anybody else. He never goes out of my life. I talk to him and consult him all the time. The older I grow, th... | sharply. I felt the old pull of the earth, the solemn magic that comes out of those fields at nightfall. I wished I could be a little boy again, and that my way could end there. We reached the edge of the field, where our ways parted. I took her hands and held them against my breast, feeling once more how strong and wa... | My Antonia |
; that her husband was not a man of much force, and she had had a hard life. Perhaps it was cowardice that kept me away so long. My business took me West several times every year, and it was always in the back of my mind that I would stop in Nebraska some day and go to see Ántonia. But I kept putting it off until the n... | No speaker | had not “done very well”<|quote|>; that her husband was not a man of much force, and she had had a hard life. Perhaps it was cowardice that kept me away so long. My business took me West several times every year, and it was always in the back of my mind that I would stop in Nebraska some day and go to see Ántonia. But ... | she told me that Ántonia had not “done very well”<|quote|>; that her husband was not a man of much force, and she had had a hard life. Perhaps it was cowardice that kept me away so long. My business took me West several times every year, and it was always in the back of my mind that I would stop in Nebraska some day an... | some photographs of her native village. Months afterward came a letter from her, telling me the names and ages of her many children, but little else; signed, “Your old friend, Ántonia Cuzak.” When I met Tiny Soderball in Salt Lake, she told me that Ántonia had not “done very well”<|quote|>; that her husband was not a m... | I heard of her from time to time; that she married, very soon after I last saw her, a young Bohemian, a cousin of Anton Jelinek; that they were poor, and had a large family. Once when I was abroad I went into Bohemia, and from Prague I sent Ántonia some photographs of her native village. Months afterward came a letter ... | of my memory. “I’ll come back,” I said earnestly, through the soft, intrusive darkness. “Perhaps you will” —I felt rather than saw her smile. “But even if you don’t, you’re here, like my father. So I won’t be lonesome.” As I went back alone over that familiar road, I could almost believe that a boy and girl ran along b... | rose color, thin as a bubble or a ghost-moon. For five, perhaps ten minutes, the two luminaries confronted each other across the level land, resting on opposite edges of the world. In that singular light every little tree and shock of wheat, every sunflower stalk and clump of snow-on-the-mountain, drew itself up high a... | means you are going away from us for good,” she said with a sigh. “But that don’t mean I’ll lose you. Look at my papa here; he’s been dead all these years, and yet he is more real to me than almost anybody else. He never goes out of my life. I talk to him and consult him all the time. The older I grow, the better I kno... | likes and dislikes, all my tastes, hundreds of times when I don’t realize it. You really are a part of me.” She turned her bright, believing eyes to me, and the tears came up in them slowly. “How can it be like that, when you know so many people, and when I’ve disappointed you so? Ain’t it wonderful, Jim, how much peop... | My Antonia |
“If there’s anything I can’t stand,” | Lena | does n’t grow too miserly.<|quote|>“If there’s anything I can’t stand,”</|quote|>she said to me in | apparently, takes care that Tiny does n’t grow too miserly.<|quote|>“If there’s anything I can’t stand,”</|quote|>she said to me in Tiny’s presence, “it’s a shabby | her own, and Lena’s shop is in an apartment house just around the corner. It interested me, after so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s accounts occasionally, and invests her money for her; and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny does n’t grow too miserly.<|quote|>“If there’s anything I ca... | realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again. I owe it to Lena Lingard that I went to see Ántonia at last. I was in San Francisco two summers ago when both Lena and Tiny Soderball were in town. Tiny lives in a house of her own, and Lena’s shop is in an apartment house just around the corner... | of much force, and she had had a hard life. Perhaps it was cowardice that kept me away so long. My business took me West several times every year, and it was always in the back of my mind that I would stop in Nebraska some day and go to see Ántonia. But I kept putting it off until the next trip. I did not want to find ... | earnestly, through the soft, intrusive darkness. “Perhaps you will” —I felt rather than saw her smile. “But even if you don’t, you’re here, like my father. So I won’t be lonesome.” As I went back alone over that familiar road, I could almost believe that a boy and girl ran along beside me, as our shadows used to do, la... | a wife, or my mother or my sister—anything that a woman can be to a man. The idea of you is a part of my mind; you influence my likes and dislikes, all my tastes, hundreds of times when I don’t realize it. You really are a part of me.” She turned her bright, believing eyes to me, and the tears came up in them slowly. “... | tree and shock of wheat, every sunflower stalk and clump of snow-on-the-mountain, drew itself up high and pointed; the very clods and furrows in the fields seemed to stand up sharply. I felt the old pull of the earth, the solemn magic that comes out of those fields at nightfall. I wished I could be a little boy again, ... | My Antonia |
she said to me in Tiny’s presence, | No speaker | there’s anything I can’t stand,”<|quote|>she said to me in Tiny’s presence,</|quote|>“it’s a shabby rich woman.” | n’t grow too miserly. “If there’s anything I can’t stand,”<|quote|>she said to me in Tiny’s presence,</|quote|>“it’s a shabby rich woman.” Tiny smiled grimly and assured | in an apartment house just around the corner. It interested me, after so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s accounts occasionally, and invests her money for her; and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny does n’t grow too miserly. “If there’s anything I can’t stand,”<|quote|>she said to me i... | that can ever happen to one again. I owe it to Lena Lingard that I went to see Ántonia at last. I was in San Francisco two summers ago when both Lena and Tiny Soderball were in town. Tiny lives in a house of her own, and Lena’s shop is in an apartment house just around the corner. It interested me, after so many years,... | had a hard life. Perhaps it was cowardice that kept me away so long. My business took me West several times every year, and it was always in the back of my mind that I would stop in Nebraska some day and go to see Ántonia. But I kept putting it off until the next trip. I did not want to find her aged and broken; I real... | “Perhaps you will” —I felt rather than saw her smile. “But even if you don’t, you’re here, like my father. So I won’t be lonesome.” As I went back alone over that familiar road, I could almost believe that a boy and girl ran along beside me, as our shadows used to do, laughing and whispering to each other in the grass.... | my sister—anything that a woman can be to a man. The idea of you is a part of my mind; you influence my likes and dislikes, all my tastes, hundreds of times when I don’t realize it. You really are a part of me.” She turned her bright, believing eyes to me, and the tears came up in them slowly. “How can it be like that,... | cousin of Anton Jelinek; that they were poor, and had a large family. Once when I was abroad I went into Bohemia, and from Prague I sent Ántonia some photographs of her native village. Months afterward came a letter from her, telling me the names and ages of her many children, but little else; signed, “Your old friend,... | My Antonia |
“it’s a shabby rich woman.” | Lena | to me in Tiny’s presence,<|quote|>“it’s a shabby rich woman.”</|quote|>Tiny smiled grimly and assured | I can’t stand,” she said to me in Tiny’s presence,<|quote|>“it’s a shabby rich woman.”</|quote|>Tiny smiled grimly and assured me that Lena would never | corner. It interested me, after so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s accounts occasionally, and invests her money for her; and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny does n’t grow too miserly. “If there’s anything I can’t stand,” she said to me in Tiny’s presence,<|quote|>“it’s a shabby rich... | I owe it to Lena Lingard that I went to see Ántonia at last. I was in San Francisco two summers ago when both Lena and Tiny Soderball were in town. Tiny lives in a house of her own, and Lena’s shop is in an apartment house just around the corner. It interested me, after so many years, to see the two women together. Tin... | cowardice that kept me away so long. My business took me West several times every year, and it was always in the back of my mind that I would stop in Nebraska some day and go to see Ántonia. But I kept putting it off until the next trip. I did not want to find her aged and broken; I really dreaded it. In the course of ... | saw her smile. “But even if you don’t, you’re here, like my father. So I won’t be lonesome.” As I went back alone over that familiar road, I could almost believe that a boy and girl ran along beside me, as our shadows used to do, laughing and whispering to each other in the grass. BOOK V—CUZAK’S BOYS I I TOL... | to a man. The idea of you is a part of my mind; you influence my likes and dislikes, all my tastes, hundreds of times when I don’t realize it. You really are a part of me.” She turned her bright, believing eyes to me, and the tears came up in them slowly. “How can it be like that, when you know so many people, and when... | darker, and I had to look hard to see her face, which I meant always to carry with me; the closest, realest face, under all the shadows of women’s faces, at the very bottom of my memory. “I’ll come back,” I said earnestly, through the soft, intrusive darkness. “Perhaps you will” —I felt rather than saw her smile. “But ... | My Antonia |
Tiny smiled grimly and assured me that Lena would never be either shabby or rich. | No speaker | “it’s a shabby rich woman.”<|quote|>Tiny smiled grimly and assured me that Lena would never be either shabby or rich.</|quote|>“And I don’t want to | to me in Tiny’s presence, “it’s a shabby rich woman.”<|quote|>Tiny smiled grimly and assured me that Lena would never be either shabby or rich.</|quote|>“And I don’t want to be,” the other agreed complacently. | so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s accounts occasionally, and invests her money for her; and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny does n’t grow too miserly. “If there’s anything I can’t stand,” she said to me in Tiny’s presence, “it’s a shabby rich woman.”<|quote|>Tiny smiled grimly and ... | Lingard that I went to see Ántonia at last. I was in San Francisco two summers ago when both Lena and Tiny Soderball were in town. Tiny lives in a house of her own, and Lena’s shop is in an apartment house just around the corner. It interested me, after so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s a... | so long. My business took me West several times every year, and it was always in the back of my mind that I would stop in Nebraska some day and go to see Ántonia. But I kept putting it off until the next trip. I did not want to find her aged and broken; I really dreaded it. In the course of twenty crowded years one par... | if you don’t, you’re here, like my father. So I won’t be lonesome.” As I went back alone over that familiar road, I could almost believe that a boy and girl ran along beside me, as our shadows used to do, laughing and whispering to each other in the grass. BOOK V—CUZAK’S BOYS I I TOLD Ántonia I would come ba... | of you is a part of my mind; you influence my likes and dislikes, all my tastes, hundreds of times when I don’t realize it. You really are a part of me.” She turned her bright, believing eyes to me, and the tears came up in them slowly. “How can it be like that, when you know so many people, and when I’ve disappointed ... | of wheat, every sunflower stalk and clump of snow-on-the-mountain, drew itself up high and pointed; the very clods and furrows in the fields seemed to stand up sharply. I felt the old pull of the earth, the solemn magic that comes out of those fields at nightfall. I wished I could be a little boy again, and that my way... | My Antonia |
“And I don’t want to be,” | Tiny | be either shabby or rich.<|quote|>“And I don’t want to be,”</|quote|>the other agreed complacently. Lena | me that Lena would never be either shabby or rich.<|quote|>“And I don’t want to be,”</|quote|>the other agreed complacently. Lena gave me a cheerful account | invests her money for her; and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny does n’t grow too miserly. “If there’s anything I can’t stand,” she said to me in Tiny’s presence, “it’s a shabby rich woman.” Tiny smiled grimly and assured me that Lena would never be either shabby or rich.<|quote|>“And I don’t want to be,”</|quote... | summers ago when both Lena and Tiny Soderball were in town. Tiny lives in a house of her own, and Lena’s shop is in an apartment house just around the corner. It interested me, after so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s accounts occasionally, and invests her money for her; and Lena, apparent... | in the back of my mind that I would stop in Nebraska some day and go to see Ántonia. But I kept putting it off until the next trip. I did not want to find her aged and broken; I really dreaded it. In the course of twenty crowded years one parts with many illusions. I did not wish to lose the early ones. Some memories a... | went back alone over that familiar road, I could almost believe that a boy and girl ran along beside me, as our shadows used to do, laughing and whispering to each other in the grass. BOOK V—CUZAK’S BOYS I I TOLD Ántonia I would come back, but life intervened, and it was twenty years before I kept my promise. I heard o... | my tastes, hundreds of times when I don’t realize it. You really are a part of me.” She turned her bright, believing eyes to me, and the tears came up in them slowly. “How can it be like that, when you know so many people, and when I’ve disappointed you so? Ain’t it wonderful, Jim, how much people can mean to each othe... | brown hands, and remembering how many kind things they had done for me. I held them now a long while, over my heart. About us it was growing darker and darker, and I had to look hard to see her face, which I meant always to carry with me; the closest, realest face, under all the shadows of women’s faces, at the very bo... | My Antonia |
the other agreed complacently. Lena gave me a cheerful account of Ántonia and urged me to make her a visit. | No speaker | I don’t want to be,”<|quote|>the other agreed complacently. Lena gave me a cheerful account of Ántonia and urged me to make her a visit.</|quote|>“You really ought to go, | either shabby or rich. “And I don’t want to be,”<|quote|>the other agreed complacently. Lena gave me a cheerful account of Ántonia and urged me to make her a visit.</|quote|>“You really ought to go, Jim. It would be such | Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny does n’t grow too miserly. “If there’s anything I can’t stand,” she said to me in Tiny’s presence, “it’s a shabby rich woman.” Tiny smiled grimly and assured me that Lena would never be either shabby or rich. “And I don’t want to be,”<|quote|>the other agreed complacently. Lena g... | Tiny Soderball were in town. Tiny lives in a house of her own, and Lena’s shop is in an apartment house just around the corner. It interested me, after so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s accounts occasionally, and invests her money for her; and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny does n... | that I would stop in Nebraska some day and go to see Ántonia. But I kept putting it off until the next trip. I did not want to find her aged and broken; I really dreaded it. In the course of twenty crowded years one parts with many illusions. I did not wish to lose the early ones. Some memories are realities, and are b... | road, I could almost believe that a boy and girl ran along beside me, as our shadows used to do, laughing and whispering to each other in the grass. BOOK V—CUZAK’S BOYS I I TOLD Ántonia I would come back, but life intervened, and it was twenty years before I kept my promise. I heard of her from time to time; that she m... | I don’t realize it. You really are a part of me.” She turned her bright, believing eyes to me, and the tears came up in them slowly. “How can it be like that, when you know so many people, and when I’ve disappointed you so? Ain’t it wonderful, Jim, how much people can mean to each other? I’m so glad we had each other w... | very soon after I last saw her, a young Bohemian, a cousin of Anton Jelinek; that they were poor, and had a large family. Once when I was abroad I went into Bohemia, and from Prague I sent Ántonia some photographs of her native village. Months afterward came a letter from her, telling me the names and ages of her many ... | My Antonia |
“You really ought to go, Jim. It would be such a satisfaction to her. Never mind what Tiny says. There’s nothing the matter with Cuzak. You’d like him. He is n’t a hustler, but a rough man would never have suited Tony. Tony has nice children—ten or eleven of them by this time, I guess. I should n’t care for a family of... | Lena | to make her a visit.<|quote|>“You really ought to go, Jim. It would be such a satisfaction to her. Never mind what Tiny says. There’s nothing the matter with Cuzak. You’d like him. He is n’t a hustler, but a rough man would never have suited Tony. Tony has nice children—ten or eleven of them by this time, I guess. I sh... | of Ántonia and urged me to make her a visit.<|quote|>“You really ought to go, Jim. It would be such a satisfaction to her. Never mind what Tiny says. There’s nothing the matter with Cuzak. You’d like him. He is n’t a hustler, but a rough man would never have suited Tony. Tony has nice children—ten or eleven of them by ... | me in Tiny’s presence, “it’s a shabby rich woman.” Tiny smiled grimly and assured me that Lena would never be either shabby or rich. “And I don’t want to be,” the other agreed complacently. Lena gave me a cheerful account of Ántonia and urged me to make her a visit.<|quote|>“You really ought to go, Jim. It would be su... | house just around the corner. It interested me, after so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s accounts occasionally, and invests her money for her; and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny does n’t grow too miserly. “If there’s anything I can’t stand,” she said to me in Tiny’s presence, “it’s... | the next trip. I did not want to find her aged and broken; I really dreaded it. In the course of twenty crowded years one parts with many illusions. I did not wish to lose the early ones. Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again. I owe it to Lena Lingard that I went to... | laughing and whispering to each other in the grass. BOOK V—CUZAK’S BOYS I I TOLD Ántonia I would come back, but life intervened, and it was twenty years before I kept my promise. I heard of her from time to time; that she married, very soon after I last saw her, a young Bohemian, a cousin of Anton Jelinek; that they we... | the tears came up in them slowly. “How can it be like that, when you know so many people, and when I’ve disappointed you so? Ain’t it wonderful, Jim, how much people can mean to each other? I’m so glad we had each other when we were little. I can’t wait till my little girl’s old enough to tell her about all the things ... | almost believe that a boy and girl ran along beside me, as our shadows used to do, laughing and whispering to each other in the grass. BOOK V—CUZAK’S BOYS I I TOLD Ántonia I would come back, but life intervened, and it was twenty years before I kept my promise. I heard of her from time to time; that she married, very s... | My Antonia |
On my way East I broke my journey at Hastings, in Nebraska, and set off with an open buggy and a fairly good livery team to find the Cuzak farm. At a little past midday, I knew I must be nearing my destination. Set back on a swell of land at my right, I saw a wide farmhouse, with a red barn and an ash grove, and cattle... | No speaker | to show them to you.”<|quote|>On my way East I broke my journey at Hastings, in Nebraska, and set off with an open buggy and a fairly good livery team to find the Cuzak farm. At a little past midday, I knew I must be nearing my destination. Set back on a swell of land at my right, I saw a wide farmhouse, with a red bar... | right for Tony. She’d love to show them to you.”<|quote|>On my way East I broke my journey at Hastings, in Nebraska, and set off with an open buggy and a fairly good livery team to find the Cuzak farm. At a little past midday, I knew I must be nearing my destination. Set back on a swell of land at my right, I saw a wid... | n’t a hustler, but a rough man would never have suited Tony. Tony has nice children—ten or eleven of them by this time, I guess. I should n’t care for a family of that size myself, but somehow it’s just right for Tony. She’d love to show them to you.”<|quote|>On my way East I broke my journey at Hastings, in Nebraska, ... | the other agreed complacently. Lena gave me a cheerful account of Ántonia and urged me to make her a visit. “You really ought to go, Jim. It would be such a satisfaction to her. Never mind what Tiny says. There’s nothing the matter with Cuzak. You’d like him. He is n’t a hustler, but a rough man would never have suite... | Tiny Soderball were in town. Tiny lives in a house of her own, and Lena’s shop is in an apartment house just around the corner. It interested me, after so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s accounts occasionally, and invests her money for her; and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny does n... | I sent Ántonia some photographs of her native village. Months afterward came a letter from her, telling me the names and ages of her many children, but little else; signed, “Your old friend, Ántonia Cuzak.” When I met Tiny Soderball in Salt Lake, she told me that Ántonia had not “done very well” ; that her husband was ... | And I guess everybody thinks about old times, even the happiest people.” As we walked homeward across the fields, the sun dropped and lay like a great golden globe in the low west. While it hung there, the moon rose in the east, as big as a cartwheel, pale silver and streaked with rose color, thin as a bubble or a ghos... | before I kept my promise. I heard of her from time to time; that she married, very soon after I last saw her, a young Bohemian, a cousin of Anton Jelinek; that they were poor, and had a large family. Once when I was abroad I went into Bohemia, and from Prague I sent Ántonia some photographs of her native village. Month... | My Antonia |
“Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?” | Jim | a sad afternoon for them.<|quote|>“Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?”</|quote|>I asked. The younger one | looked grave. This was evidently a sad afternoon for them.<|quote|>“Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?”</|quote|>I asked. The younger one did not look up; he | on his shoulder, and was comforting him in a language I had not heard for a long while. When I stopped my horses opposite them, the older boy took his brother by the hand and came toward me. He, too, looked grave. This was evidently a sad afternoon for them.<|quote|>“Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?”</|quote|>I asked. The y... | me, in a plum thicket beside the road, I saw two boys bending over a dead dog. The little one, not more than four or five, was on his knees, his hands folded, and his close-clipped, bare head drooping forward in deep dejection. The other stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder, and was comforting him in a language I h... | you.” On my way East I broke my journey at Hastings, in Nebraska, and set off with an open buggy and a fairly good livery team to find the Cuzak farm. At a little past midday, I knew I must be nearing my destination. Set back on a swell of land at my right, I saw a wide farmhouse, with a red barn and an ash grove, and ... | and Tiny Soderball were in town. Tiny lives in a house of her own, and Lena’s shop is in an apartment house just around the corner. It interested me, after so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s accounts occasionally, and invests her money for her; and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny do... | done for me. I held them now a long while, over my heart. About us it was growing darker and darker, and I had to look hard to see her face, which I meant always to carry with me; the closest, realest face, under all the shadows of women’s faces, at the very bottom of my memory. “I’ll come back,” I said earnestly, thro... | were in town. Tiny lives in a house of her own, and Lena’s shop is in an apartment house just around the corner. It interested me, after so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s accounts occasionally, and invests her money for her; and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny does n’t grow too mis... | My Antonia |
I asked. The younger one did not look up; he was submerged in his own feelings, but his brother met me with intelligent gray eyes. | No speaker | “Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?”<|quote|>I asked. The younger one did not look up; he was submerged in his own feelings, but his brother met me with intelligent gray eyes.</|quote|>“Yes, sir.” “Does she live | a sad afternoon for them. “Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?”<|quote|>I asked. The younger one did not look up; he was submerged in his own feelings, but his brother met me with intelligent gray eyes.</|quote|>“Yes, sir.” “Does she live up there on the hill? | comforting him in a language I had not heard for a long while. When I stopped my horses opposite them, the older boy took his brother by the hand and came toward me. He, too, looked grave. This was evidently a sad afternoon for them. “Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?”<|quote|>I asked. The younger one did not look up; he was... | beside the road, I saw two boys bending over a dead dog. The little one, not more than four or five, was on his knees, his hands folded, and his close-clipped, bare head drooping forward in deep dejection. The other stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder, and was comforting him in a language I had not heard for a lon... | I broke my journey at Hastings, in Nebraska, and set off with an open buggy and a fairly good livery team to find the Cuzak farm. At a little past midday, I knew I must be nearing my destination. Set back on a swell of land at my right, I saw a wide farmhouse, with a red barn and an ash grove, and cattle yards in front... | town. Tiny lives in a house of her own, and Lena’s shop is in an apartment house just around the corner. It interested me, after so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s accounts occasionally, and invests her money for her; and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny does n’t grow too miserly. “I... | them now a long while, over my heart. About us it was growing darker and darker, and I had to look hard to see her face, which I meant always to carry with me; the closest, realest face, under all the shadows of women’s faces, at the very bottom of my memory. “I’ll come back,” I said earnestly, through the soft, intrus... | see Ántonia. But I kept putting it off until the next trip. I did not want to find her aged and broken; I really dreaded it. In the course of twenty crowded years one parts with many illusions. I did not wish to lose the early ones. Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen to one a... | My Antonia |
“Yes, sir.” | One of Antonia's children | me with intelligent gray eyes.<|quote|>“Yes, sir.”</|quote|>“Does she live up there | feelings, but his brother met me with intelligent gray eyes.<|quote|>“Yes, sir.”</|quote|>“Does she live up there on the hill? I am | brother by the hand and came toward me. He, too, looked grave. This was evidently a sad afternoon for them. “Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?” I asked. The younger one did not look up; he was submerged in his own feelings, but his brother met me with intelligent gray eyes.<|quote|>“Yes, sir.”</|quote|>“Does she live up ther... | his hands folded, and his close-clipped, bare head drooping forward in deep dejection. The other stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder, and was comforting him in a language I had not heard for a long while. When I stopped my horses opposite them, the older boy took his brother by the hand and came toward me. He, too... | farm. At a little past midday, I knew I must be nearing my destination. Set back on a swell of land at my right, I saw a wide farmhouse, with a red barn and an ash grove, and cattle yards in front that sloped down to the high road. I drew up my horses and was wondering whether I should drive in here, when I heard low v... | so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s accounts occasionally, and invests her money for her; and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny does n’t grow too miserly. “If there’s anything I can’t stand,” she said to me in Tiny’s presence, “it’s a shabby rich woman.” Tiny smiled grimly and assured ... | face, which I meant always to carry with me; the closest, realest face, under all the shadows of women’s faces, at the very bottom of my memory. “I’ll come back,” I said earnestly, through the soft, intrusive darkness. “Perhaps you will” —I felt rather than saw her smile. “But even if you don’t, you’re here, like my fa... | East I broke my journey at Hastings, in Nebraska, and set off with an open buggy and a fairly good livery team to find the Cuzak farm. At a little past midday, I knew I must be nearing my destination. Set back on a swell of land at my right, I saw a wide farmhouse, with a red barn and an ash grove, and cattle yards in ... | My Antonia |
“Does she live up there on the hill? I am going to see her. Get in and ride up with me.” | Jim | intelligent gray eyes. “Yes, sir.”<|quote|>“Does she live up there on the hill? I am going to see her. Get in and ride up with me.”</|quote|>He glanced at his reluctant | his brother met me with intelligent gray eyes. “Yes, sir.”<|quote|>“Does she live up there on the hill? I am going to see her. Get in and ride up with me.”</|quote|>He glanced at his reluctant little brother. “I guess we’d | the hand and came toward me. He, too, looked grave. This was evidently a sad afternoon for them. “Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?” I asked. The younger one did not look up; he was submerged in his own feelings, but his brother met me with intelligent gray eyes. “Yes, sir.”<|quote|>“Does she live up there on the hill? I am ... | folded, and his close-clipped, bare head drooping forward in deep dejection. The other stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder, and was comforting him in a language I had not heard for a long while. When I stopped my horses opposite them, the older boy took his brother by the hand and came toward me. He, too, looked g... | a little past midday, I knew I must be nearing my destination. Set back on a swell of land at my right, I saw a wide farmhouse, with a red barn and an ash grove, and cattle yards in front that sloped down to the high road. I drew up my horses and was wondering whether I should drive in here, when I heard low voices. Ah... | years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s accounts occasionally, and invests her money for her; and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny does n’t grow too miserly. “If there’s anything I can’t stand,” she said to me in Tiny’s presence, “it’s a shabby rich woman.” Tiny smiled grimly and assured me that ... | I meant always to carry with me; the closest, realest face, under all the shadows of women’s faces, at the very bottom of my memory. “I’ll come back,” I said earnestly, through the soft, intrusive darkness. “Perhaps you will” —I felt rather than saw her smile. “But even if you don’t, you’re here, like my father. So I w... | own, and Lena’s shop is in an apartment house just around the corner. It interested me, after so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s accounts occasionally, and invests her money for her; and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny does n’t grow too miserly. “If there’s anything I can’t stand,” ... | My Antonia |
He glanced at his reluctant little brother. | No speaker | and ride up with me.”<|quote|>He glanced at his reluctant little brother.</|quote|>“I guess we’d better walk. | to see her. Get in and ride up with me.”<|quote|>He glanced at his reluctant little brother.</|quote|>“I guess we’d better walk. But we’ll open the gate | Cuzak’s boys?” I asked. The younger one did not look up; he was submerged in his own feelings, but his brother met me with intelligent gray eyes. “Yes, sir.” “Does she live up there on the hill? I am going to see her. Get in and ride up with me.”<|quote|>He glanced at his reluctant little brother.</|quote|>“I guess we... | and was comforting him in a language I had not heard for a long while. When I stopped my horses opposite them, the older boy took his brother by the hand and came toward me. He, too, looked grave. This was evidently a sad afternoon for them. “Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?” I asked. The younger one did not look up; he was... | right, I saw a wide farmhouse, with a red barn and an ash grove, and cattle yards in front that sloped down to the high road. I drew up my horses and was wondering whether I should drive in here, when I heard low voices. Ahead of me, in a plum thicket beside the road, I saw two boys bending over a dead dog. The little ... | takes care that Tiny does n’t grow too miserly. “If there’s anything I can’t stand,” she said to me in Tiny’s presence, “it’s a shabby rich woman.” Tiny smiled grimly and assured me that Lena would never be either shabby or rich. “And I don’t want to be,” the other agreed complacently. Lena gave me a cheerful account ... | bottom of my memory. “I’ll come back,” I said earnestly, through the soft, intrusive darkness. “Perhaps you will” —I felt rather than saw her smile. “But even if you don’t, you’re here, like my father. So I won’t be lonesome.” As I went back alone over that familiar road, I could almost believe that a boy and girl ran ... | is in an apartment house just around the corner. It interested me, after so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s accounts occasionally, and invests her money for her; and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny does n’t grow too miserly. “If there’s anything I can’t stand,” she said to me in Tin... | My Antonia |
“I guess we’d better walk. But we’ll open the gate for you.” | One of Antonia's children | at his reluctant little brother.<|quote|>“I guess we’d better walk. But we’ll open the gate for you.”</|quote|>I drove along the side-road | up with me.” He glanced at his reluctant little brother.<|quote|>“I guess we’d better walk. But we’ll open the gate for you.”</|quote|>I drove along the side-road and they followed slowly behind. | did not look up; he was submerged in his own feelings, but his brother met me with intelligent gray eyes. “Yes, sir.” “Does she live up there on the hill? I am going to see her. Get in and ride up with me.” He glanced at his reluctant little brother.<|quote|>“I guess we’d better walk. But we’ll open the gate for you.”<... | I had not heard for a long while. When I stopped my horses opposite them, the older boy took his brother by the hand and came toward me. He, too, looked grave. This was evidently a sad afternoon for them. “Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?” I asked. The younger one did not look up; he was submerged in his own feelings, but h... | a red barn and an ash grove, and cattle yards in front that sloped down to the high road. I drew up my horses and was wondering whether I should drive in here, when I heard low voices. Ahead of me, in a plum thicket beside the road, I saw two boys bending over a dead dog. The little one, not more than four or five, was... | too miserly. “If there’s anything I can’t stand,” she said to me in Tiny’s presence, “it’s a shabby rich woman.” Tiny smiled grimly and assured me that Lena would never be either shabby or rich. “And I don’t want to be,” the other agreed complacently. Lena gave me a cheerful account of Ántonia and urged me to make her... | I said earnestly, through the soft, intrusive darkness. “Perhaps you will” —I felt rather than saw her smile. “But even if you don’t, you’re here, like my father. So I won’t be lonesome.” As I went back alone over that familiar road, I could almost believe that a boy and girl ran along beside me, as our shadows used to... | a house of her own, and Lena’s shop is in an apartment house just around the corner. It interested me, after so many years, to see the two women together. Tiny audits Lena’s accounts occasionally, and invests her money for her; and Lena, apparently, takes care that Tiny does n’t grow too miserly. “If there’s anything I... | My Antonia |
I drove along the side-road and they followed slowly behind. When I pulled up at the windmill, another boy, barefooted and curly-headed, ran out of the barn to tie my team for me. He was a handsome one, this chap, fair-skinned and freckled, with red cheeks and a ruddy pelt as thick as a lamb’s wool, growing down on his... | No speaker | open the gate for you.”<|quote|>I drove along the side-road and they followed slowly behind. When I pulled up at the windmill, another boy, barefooted and curly-headed, ran out of the barn to tie my team for me. He was a handsome one, this chap, fair-skinned and freckled, with red cheeks and a ruddy pelt as thick as a ... | we’d better walk. But we’ll open the gate for you.”<|quote|>I drove along the side-road and they followed slowly behind. When I pulled up at the windmill, another boy, barefooted and curly-headed, ran out of the barn to tie my team for me. He was a handsome one, this chap, fair-skinned and freckled, with red cheeks and... | his brother met me with intelligent gray eyes. “Yes, sir.” “Does she live up there on the hill? I am going to see her. Get in and ride up with me.” He glanced at his reluctant little brother. “I guess we’d better walk. But we’ll open the gate for you.”<|quote|>I drove along the side-road and they followed slowly behind... | horses opposite them, the older boy took his brother by the hand and came toward me. He, too, looked grave. This was evidently a sad afternoon for them. “Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?” I asked. The younger one did not look up; he was submerged in his own feelings, but his brother met me with intelligent gray eyes. “Yes, ... | that sloped down to the high road. I drew up my horses and was wondering whether I should drive in here, when I heard low voices. Ahead of me, in a plum thicket beside the road, I saw two boys bending over a dead dog. The little one, not more than four or five, was on his knees, his hands folded, and his close-clipped,... | in Tiny’s presence, “it’s a shabby rich woman.” Tiny smiled grimly and assured me that Lena would never be either shabby or rich. “And I don’t want to be,” the other agreed complacently. Lena gave me a cheerful account of Ántonia and urged me to make her a visit. “You really ought to go, Jim. It would be such a satisf... | felt rather than saw her smile. “But even if you don’t, you’re here, like my father. So I won’t be lonesome.” As I went back alone over that familiar road, I could almost believe that a boy and girl ran along beside me, as our shadows used to do, laughing and whispering to each other in the grass. BOOK V—CUZAK’S B... | Set back on a swell of land at my right, I saw a wide farmhouse, with a red barn and an ash grove, and cattle yards in front that sloped down to the high road. I drew up my horses and was wondering whether I should drive in here, when I heard low voices. Ahead of me, in a plum thicket beside the road, I saw two boys be... | My Antonia |
“Won’t you come in? Mother will be here in a minute.” | One of Antonia's children | and eyes, calm and self-possessed.<|quote|>“Won’t you come in? Mother will be here in a minute.”</|quote|>Before I could sit down | buxom girl with dark hair and eyes, calm and self-possessed.<|quote|>“Won’t you come in? Mother will be here in a minute.”</|quote|>Before I could sit down in the chair she offered | I asked for their mother, one of the girls dropped her towel, ran across the floor with noiseless bare feet, and disappeared. The older one, who wore shoes and stockings, came to the door to admit me. She was a buxom girl with dark hair and eyes, calm and self-possessed.<|quote|>“Won’t you come in? Mother will be here ... | white floor. I saw a long table, rows of wooden chairs against the wall, and a shining range in one corner. Two girls were washing dishes at the sink, laughing and chattering, and a little one, in a short pinafore, sat on a stool playing with a rag baby. When I asked for their mother, one of the girls dropped her towel... | little tufts. He tied my team with two flourishes of his hands, and nodded when I asked him if his mother was at home. As he glanced at me, his face dimpled with a seizure of irrelevant merriment, and he shot up the windmill tower with a lightness that struck me as disdainful. I knew he was peering down at me as I walk... | his close-clipped, bare head drooping forward in deep dejection. The other stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder, and was comforting him in a language I had not heard for a long while. When I stopped my horses opposite them, the older boy took his brother by the hand and came toward me. He, too, looked grave. This w... | I really dreaded it. In the course of twenty crowded years one parts with many illusions. I did not wish to lose the early ones. Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again. I owe it to Lena Lingard that I went to see Ántonia at last. I was in San Francisco two summers ag... | with an open buggy and a fairly good livery team to find the Cuzak farm. At a little past midday, I knew I must be nearing my destination. Set back on a swell of land at my right, I saw a wide farmhouse, with a red barn and an ash grove, and cattle yards in front that sloped down to the high road. I drew up my horses a... | My Antonia |
Before I could sit down in the chair she offered me, the miracle happened; one of those quiet moments that clutch the heart, and take more courage than the noisy, excited passages in life. Ántonia came in and stood before me; a stalwart, brown woman, flat-chested, her curly brown hair a little grizzled. It was a shock,... | No speaker | be here in a minute.”<|quote|>Before I could sit down in the chair she offered me, the miracle happened; one of those quiet moments that clutch the heart, and take more courage than the noisy, excited passages in life. Ántonia came in and stood before me; a stalwart, brown woman, flat-chested, her curly brown hair a li... | you come in? Mother will be here in a minute.”<|quote|>Before I could sit down in the chair she offered me, the miracle happened; one of those quiet moments that clutch the heart, and take more courage than the noisy, excited passages in life. Ántonia came in and stood before me; a stalwart, brown woman, flat-chested, ... | towel, ran across the floor with noiseless bare feet, and disappeared. The older one, who wore shoes and stockings, came to the door to admit me. She was a buxom girl with dark hair and eyes, calm and self-possessed. “Won’t you come in? Mother will be here in a minute.”<|quote|>Before I could sit down in the chair she ... | against the wall, and a shining range in one corner. Two girls were washing dishes at the sink, laughing and chattering, and a little one, in a short pinafore, sat on a stool playing with a rag baby. When I asked for their mother, one of the girls dropped her towel, ran across the floor with noiseless bare feet, and di... | hands, and nodded when I asked him if his mother was at home. As he glanced at me, his face dimpled with a seizure of irrelevant merriment, and he shot up the windmill tower with a lightness that struck me as disdainful. I knew he was peering down at me as I walked toward the house. Ducks and geese ran quacking across ... | stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder, and was comforting him in a language I had not heard for a long while. When I stopped my horses opposite them, the older boy took his brother by the hand and came toward me. He, too, looked grave. This was evidently a sad afternoon for them. “Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?” I asked... | one parts with many illusions. I did not wish to lose the early ones. Some memories are realities, and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again. I owe it to Lena Lingard that I went to see Ántonia at last. I was in San Francisco two summers ago when both Lena and Tiny Soderball were in town. Tiny live... | buggy and a fairly good livery team to find the Cuzak farm. At a little past midday, I knew I must be nearing my destination. Set back on a swell of land at my right, I saw a wide farmhouse, with a red barn and an ash grove, and cattle yards in front that sloped down to the high road. I drew up my horses and was wonder... | My Antonia |
“My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?” | Antonia | voice I remembered so well.<|quote|>“My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?”</|quote|>“Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? | me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well.<|quote|>“My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?”</|quote|>“Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” | at so many thousands of human faces. As I confronted her, the changes grew less apparent to me, her identity stronger. She was there, in the full vigor of her personality, battered but not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well.<|quote|>“My husband’s not at home, sir.... | after long years, especially if they have lived as much and as hard as this woman had. We stood looking at each other. The eyes that peered anxiously at me were—simply Ántonia’s eyes. I had seen no others like them since I looked into them last, though I had looked at so many thousands of human faces. As I confronted h... | wore shoes and stockings, came to the door to admit me. She was a buxom girl with dark hair and eyes, calm and self-possessed. “Won’t you come in? Mother will be here in a minute.” Before I could sit down in the chair she offered me, the miracle happened; one of those quiet moments that clutch the heart, and take more ... | this chap, fair-skinned and freckled, with red cheeks and a ruddy pelt as thick as a lamb’s wool, growing down on his neck in little tufts. He tied my team with two flourishes of his hands, and nodded when I asked him if his mother was at home. As he glanced at me, his face dimpled with a seizure of irrelevant merrimen... | account of Ántonia and urged me to make her a visit. “You really ought to go, Jim. It would be such a satisfaction to her. Never mind what Tiny says. There’s nothing the matter with Cuzak. You’d like him. He is n’t a hustler, but a rough man would never have suited Tony. Tony has nice children—ten or eleven of them by ... | stopped my horses opposite them, the older boy took his brother by the hand and came toward me. He, too, looked grave. This was evidently a sad afternoon for them. “Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?” I asked. The younger one did not look up; he was submerged in his own feelings, but his brother met me with intelligent gray e... | My Antonia |
“Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” | Jim | sir. Can I do anything?”<|quote|>“Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?”</|quote|>She frowned into the slanting | “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?”<|quote|>“Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?”</|quote|>She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown | her, the changes grew less apparent to me, her identity stronger. She was there, in the full vigor of her personality, battered but not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?”<|quote|>“Don’t you remember me, Ántonia?... | and as hard as this woman had. We stood looking at each other. The eyes that peered anxiously at me were—simply Ántonia’s eyes. I had seen no others like them since I looked into them last, though I had looked at so many thousands of human faces. As I confronted her, the changes grew less apparent to me, her identity s... | me. She was a buxom girl with dark hair and eyes, calm and self-possessed. “Won’t you come in? Mother will be here in a minute.” Before I could sit down in the chair she offered me, the miracle happened; one of those quiet moments that clutch the heart, and take more courage than the noisy, excited passages in life. Án... | ruddy pelt as thick as a lamb’s wool, growing down on his neck in little tufts. He tied my team with two flourishes of his hands, and nodded when I asked him if his mother was at home. As he glanced at me, his face dimpled with a seizure of irrelevant merriment, and he shot up the windmill tower with a lightness that s... | visit. “You really ought to go, Jim. It would be such a satisfaction to her. Never mind what Tiny says. There’s nothing the matter with Cuzak. You’d like him. He is n’t a hustler, but a rough man would never have suited Tony. Tony has nice children—ten or eleven of them by this time, I guess. I should n’t care for a fa... | in and ride up with me.” He glanced at his reluctant little brother. “I guess we’d better walk. But we’ll open the gate for you.” I drove along the side-road and they followed slowly behind. When I pulled up at the windmill, another boy, barefooted and curly-headed, ran out of the barn to tie my team for me. He was a h... | My Antonia |
She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. | No speaker | Have I changed so much?”<|quote|>She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands.</|quote|>“Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, | “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?”<|quote|>She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands.</|quote|>“Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s... | stronger. She was there, in the full vigor of her personality, battered but not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?”<|quote|>She frowned into the slanting ... | at each other. The eyes that peered anxiously at me were—simply Ántonia’s eyes. I had seen no others like them since I looked into them last, though I had looked at so many thousands of human faces. As I confronted her, the changes grew less apparent to me, her identity stronger. She was there, in the full vigor of her... | eyes, calm and self-possessed. “Won’t you come in? Mother will be here in a minute.” Before I could sit down in the chair she offered me, the miracle happened; one of those quiet moments that clutch the heart, and take more courage than the noisy, excited passages in life. Ántonia came in and stood before me; a stalwar... | on his neck in little tufts. He tied my team with two flourishes of his hands, and nodded when I asked him if his mother was at home. As he glanced at me, his face dimpled with a seizure of irrelevant merriment, and he shot up the windmill tower with a lightness that struck me as disdainful. I knew he was peering down ... | such a satisfaction to her. Never mind what Tiny says. There’s nothing the matter with Cuzak. You’d like him. He is n’t a hustler, but a rough man would never have suited Tony. Tony has nice children—ten or eleven of them by this time, I guess. I should n’t care for a family of that size myself, but somehow it’s just r... | too, looked grave. This was evidently a sad afternoon for them. “Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?” I asked. The younger one did not look up; he was submerged in his own feelings, but his brother met me with intelligent gray eyes. “Yes, sir.” “Does she live up there on the hill? I am going to see her. Get in and ride up with... | My Antonia |
“Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” | Antonia | put out two hard-worked hands.<|quote|>“Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!”</|quote|>She had no sooner caught | She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands.<|quote|>“Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!”</|quote|>She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked | I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands.<|quote|>“Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulk... | As I confronted her, the changes grew less apparent to me, her identity stronger. She was there, in the full vigor of her personality, battered but not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, ... | heart, and take more courage than the noisy, excited passages in life. Ántonia came in and stood before me; a stalwart, brown woman, flat-chested, her curly brown hair a little grizzled. It was a shock, of course. It always is, to meet people after long years, especially if they have lived as much and as hard as this w... | a seizure of irrelevant merriment, and he shot up the windmill tower with a lightness that struck me as disdainful. I knew he was peering down at me as I walked toward the house. Ducks and geese ran quacking across my path. White cats were sunning themselves among yellow pumpkins on the porch steps. I looked through th... | or eleven of them by this time, I guess. I should n’t care for a family of that size myself, but somehow it’s just right for Tony. She’d love to show them to you.” On my way East I broke my journey at Hastings, in Nebraska, and set off with an open buggy and a fairly good livery team to find the Cuzak farm. At a little... | were sunning themselves among yellow pumpkins on the porch steps. I looked through the wire screen into a big, light kitchen with a white floor. I saw a long table, rows of wooden chairs against the wall, and a shining range in one corner. Two girls were washing dishes at the sink, laughing and chattering, and a little... | My Antonia |
She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed. | No speaker | Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!”<|quote|>She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed.</|quote|>“What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” | hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!”<|quote|>She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed.</|quote|>“What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm. “No. | Have I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!”<|quote|>She had no sooner caught my ... | apparent to me, her identity stronger. She was there, in the full vigor of her personality, battered but not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frown... | excited passages in life. Ántonia came in and stood before me; a stalwart, brown woman, flat-chested, her curly brown hair a little grizzled. It was a shock, of course. It always is, to meet people after long years, especially if they have lived as much and as hard as this woman had. We stood looking at each other. The... | up the windmill tower with a lightness that struck me as disdainful. I knew he was peering down at me as I walked toward the house. Ducks and geese ran quacking across my path. White cats were sunning themselves among yellow pumpkins on the porch steps. I looked through the wire screen into a big, light kitchen with a ... | guess. I should n’t care for a family of that size myself, but somehow it’s just right for Tony. She’d love to show them to you.” On my way East I broke my journey at Hastings, in Nebraska, and set off with an open buggy and a fairly good livery team to find the Cuzak farm. At a little past midday, I knew I must be nea... | one, who wore shoes and stockings, came to the door to admit me. She was a buxom girl with dark hair and eyes, calm and self-possessed. “Won’t you come in? Mother will be here in a minute.” Before I could sit down in the chair she offered me, the miracle happened; one of those quiet moments that clutch the heart, and t... | My Antonia |
“What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” | Antonia | hands than she looked alarmed.<|quote|>“What’s happened? Is anybody dead?”</|quote|>I patted her arm. “No. | had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed.<|quote|>“What’s happened? Is anybody dead?”</|quote|>I patted her arm. “No. I did n’t come to | that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed.<|quote|>“What’s happened? Is anybody dead... | full vigor of her personality, battered but not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look r... | a stalwart, brown woman, flat-chested, her curly brown hair a little grizzled. It was a shock, of course. It always is, to meet people after long years, especially if they have lived as much and as hard as this woman had. We stood looking at each other. The eyes that peered anxiously at me were—simply Ántonia’s eyes. I... | disdainful. I knew he was peering down at me as I walked toward the house. Ducks and geese ran quacking across my path. White cats were sunning themselves among yellow pumpkins on the porch steps. I looked through the wire screen into a big, light kitchen with a white floor. I saw a long table, rows of wooden chairs ag... | myself, but somehow it’s just right for Tony. She’d love to show them to you.” On my way East I broke my journey at Hastings, in Nebraska, and set off with an open buggy and a fairly good livery team to find the Cuzak farm. At a little past midday, I knew I must be nearing my destination. Set back on a swell of land at... | barn to tie my team for me. He was a handsome one, this chap, fair-skinned and freckled, with red cheeks and a ruddy pelt as thick as a lamb’s wool, growing down on his neck in little tufts. He tied my team with two flourishes of his hands, and nodded when I asked him if his mother was at home. As he glanced at me, his... | My Antonia |
I patted her arm. | No speaker | “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?”<|quote|>I patted her arm.</|quote|>“No. I did n’t come | hands than she looked alarmed. “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?”<|quote|>I patted her arm.</|quote|>“No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. | look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed. “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?”<|quote|>I patted her arm.</|qu... | battered but not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her... | her curly brown hair a little grizzled. It was a shock, of course. It always is, to meet people after long years, especially if they have lived as much and as hard as this woman had. We stood looking at each other. The eyes that peered anxiously at me were—simply Ántonia’s eyes. I had seen no others like them since I l... | peering down at me as I walked toward the house. Ducks and geese ran quacking across my path. White cats were sunning themselves among yellow pumpkins on the porch steps. I looked through the wire screen into a big, light kitchen with a white floor. I saw a long table, rows of wooden chairs against the wall, and a shin... | right for Tony. She’d love to show them to you.” On my way East I broke my journey at Hastings, in Nebraska, and set off with an open buggy and a fairly good livery team to find the Cuzak farm. At a little past midday, I knew I must be nearing my destination. Set back on a swell of land at my right, I saw a wide farmho... | for their mother, one of the girls dropped her towel, ran across the floor with noiseless bare feet, and disappeared. The older one, who wore shoes and stockings, came to the door to admit me. She was a buxom girl with dark hair and eyes, calm and self-possessed. “Won’t you come in? Mother will be here in a minute.” Be... | My Antonia |
“No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and your family.” | Jim | dead?” I patted her arm.<|quote|>“No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and your family.”</|quote|>She dropped my hand and | alarmed. “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm.<|quote|>“No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and your family.”</|quote|>She dropped my hand and began rushing about. “Anton, Yulka, | was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed. “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm.<|quote|>“No. I did n’t come to a... | looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face... | a little grizzled. It was a shock, of course. It always is, to meet people after long years, especially if they have lived as much and as hard as this woman had. We stood looking at each other. The eyes that peered anxiously at me were—simply Ántonia’s eyes. I had seen no others like them since I looked into them last,... | as I walked toward the house. Ducks and geese ran quacking across my path. White cats were sunning themselves among yellow pumpkins on the porch steps. I looked through the wire screen into a big, light kitchen with a white floor. I saw a long table, rows of wooden chairs against the wall, and a shining range in one co... | love to show them to you.” On my way East I broke my journey at Hastings, in Nebraska, and set off with an open buggy and a fairly good livery team to find the Cuzak farm. At a little past midday, I knew I must be nearing my destination. Set back on a swell of land at my right, I saw a wide farmhouse, with a red barn a... | he was submerged in his own feelings, but his brother met me with intelligent gray eyes. “Yes, sir.” “Does she live up there on the hill? I am going to see her. Get in and ride up with me.” He glanced at his reluctant little brother. “I guess we’d better walk. But we’ll open the gate for you.” I drove along the side-ro... | My Antonia |
She dropped my hand and began rushing about. | No speaker | see you and your family.”<|quote|>She dropped my hand and began rushing about.</|quote|>“Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are | Hastings and drove down to see you and your family.”<|quote|>She dropped my hand and began rushing about.</|quote|>“Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, and | Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed. “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm. “No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and your family.”<|quote|>She dropped my hand and began rushing about.</|quote|>... | you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” She had no... | as hard as this woman had. We stood looking at each other. The eyes that peered anxiously at me were—simply Ántonia’s eyes. I had seen no others like them since I looked into them last, though I had looked at so many thousands of human faces. As I confronted her, the changes grew less apparent to me, her identity stron... | I looked through the wire screen into a big, light kitchen with a white floor. I saw a long table, rows of wooden chairs against the wall, and a shining range in one corner. Two girls were washing dishes at the sink, laughing and chattering, and a little one, in a short pinafore, sat on a stool playing with a rag baby.... | a fairly good livery team to find the Cuzak farm. At a little past midday, I knew I must be nearing my destination. Set back on a swell of land at my right, I saw a wide farmhouse, with a red barn and an ash grove, and cattle yards in front that sloped down to the high road. I drew up my horses and was wondering whethe... | her curly brown hair a little grizzled. It was a shock, of course. It always is, to meet people after long years, especially if they have lived as much and as hard as this woman had. We stood looking at each other. The eyes that peered anxiously at me were—simply Ántonia’s eyes. I had seen no others like them since I l... | My Antonia |
“Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, and hunt for the boys. They’re off looking for that dog, somewhere. And call Leo. Where is that Leo!” | Antonia | hand and began rushing about.<|quote|>“Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, and hunt for the boys. They’re off looking for that dog, somewhere. And call Leo. Where is that Leo!”</|quote|>She pulled them out of | your family.” She dropped my hand and began rushing about.<|quote|>“Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, and hunt for the boys. They’re off looking for that dog, somewhere. And call Leo. Where is that Leo!”</|quote|>She pulled them out of corners and came bringing them | caught my hands than she looked alarmed. “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm. “No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and your family.” She dropped my hand and began rushing about.<|quote|>“Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, a... | much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alar... | looking at each other. The eyes that peered anxiously at me were—simply Ántonia’s eyes. I had seen no others like them since I looked into them last, though I had looked at so many thousands of human faces. As I confronted her, the changes grew less apparent to me, her identity stronger. She was there, in the full vigo... | big, light kitchen with a white floor. I saw a long table, rows of wooden chairs against the wall, and a shining range in one corner. Two girls were washing dishes at the sink, laughing and chattering, and a little one, in a short pinafore, sat on a stool playing with a rag baby. When I asked for their mother, one of t... | Cuzak farm. At a little past midday, I knew I must be nearing my destination. Set back on a swell of land at my right, I saw a wide farmhouse, with a red barn and an ash grove, and cattle yards in front that sloped down to the high road. I drew up my horses and was wondering whether I should drive in here, when I heard... | as I walked toward the house. Ducks and geese ran quacking across my path. White cats were sunning themselves among yellow pumpkins on the porch steps. I looked through the wire screen into a big, light kitchen with a white floor. I saw a long table, rows of wooden chairs against the wall, and a shining range in one co... | My Antonia |
She pulled them out of corners and came bringing them like a mother cat bringing in her kittens. | No speaker | Leo. Where is that Leo!”<|quote|>She pulled them out of corners and came bringing them like a mother cat bringing in her kittens.</|quote|>“You don’t have to go | that dog, somewhere. And call Leo. Where is that Leo!”<|quote|>She pulled them out of corners and came bringing them like a mother cat bringing in her kittens.</|quote|>“You don’t have to go right off, Jim? My oldest | off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and your family.” She dropped my hand and began rushing about. “Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, and hunt for the boys. They’re off looking for that dog, somewhere. And call Leo. Where is that Leo!”<|quote|>She pulled them out of corners and came brin... | She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed. “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm. “No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you a... | I had looked at so many thousands of human faces. As I confronted her, the changes grew less apparent to me, her identity stronger. She was there, in the full vigor of her personality, battered but not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home,... | were washing dishes at the sink, laughing and chattering, and a little one, in a short pinafore, sat on a stool playing with a rag baby. When I asked for their mother, one of the girls dropped her towel, ran across the floor with noiseless bare feet, and disappeared. The older one, who wore shoes and stockings, came to... | wide farmhouse, with a red barn and an ash grove, and cattle yards in front that sloped down to the high road. I drew up my horses and was wondering whether I should drive in here, when I heard low voices. Ahead of me, in a plum thicket beside the road, I saw two boys bending over a dead dog. The little one, not more t... | I looked through the wire screen into a big, light kitchen with a white floor. I saw a long table, rows of wooden chairs against the wall, and a shining range in one corner. Two girls were washing dishes at the sink, laughing and chattering, and a little one, in a short pinafore, sat on a stool playing with a rag baby.... | My Antonia |
“You don’t have to go right off, Jim? My oldest boy’s not here. He’s gone with papa to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.” | Antonia | cat bringing in her kittens.<|quote|>“You don’t have to go right off, Jim? My oldest boy’s not here. He’s gone with papa to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.”</|quote|>She looked at me imploringly, | bringing them like a mother cat bringing in her kittens.<|quote|>“You don’t have to go right off, Jim? My oldest boy’s not here. He’s gone with papa to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.”</|quote|>She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While I | and began rushing about. “Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, and hunt for the boys. They’re off looking for that dog, somewhere. And call Leo. Where is that Leo!” She pulled them out of corners and came bringing them like a mother cat bringing in her kittens.<|quote|>“You don’t have to go right off, Jim?... | She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed. “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm. “No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and your family.” She dropped my hand and began rushing about. “Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Ru... | apparent to me, her identity stronger. She was there, in the full vigor of her personality, battered but not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frown... | on a stool playing with a rag baby. When I asked for their mother, one of the girls dropped her towel, ran across the floor with noiseless bare feet, and disappeared. The older one, who wore shoes and stockings, came to the door to admit me. She was a buxom girl with dark hair and eyes, calm and self-possessed. “Won’t ... | to the high road. I drew up my horses and was wondering whether I should drive in here, when I heard low voices. Ahead of me, in a plum thicket beside the road, I saw two boys bending over a dead dog. The little one, not more than four or five, was on his knees, his hands folded, and his close-clipped, bare head droopi... | quacking across my path. White cats were sunning themselves among yellow pumpkins on the porch steps. I looked through the wire screen into a big, light kitchen with a white floor. I saw a long table, rows of wooden chairs against the wall, and a shining range in one corner. Two girls were washing dishes at the sink, l... | My Antonia |
She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While I reassured her and told her there would be plenty of time, the barefooted boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about her. | No speaker | see Rudolph and our papa.”<|quote|>She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While I reassured her and told her there would be plenty of time, the barefooted boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about her.</|quote|>“Now, tell me their names, | You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.”<|quote|>She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While I reassured her and told her there would be plenty of time, the barefooted boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about her.</|quote|>“Now, tell me their names, and how old the... | and came bringing them like a mother cat bringing in her kittens. “You don’t have to go right off, Jim? My oldest boy’s not here. He’s gone with papa to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.”<|quote|>She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While ... | drove down to see you and your family.” She dropped my hand and began rushing about. “Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, and hunt for the boys. They’re off looking for that dog, somewhere. And call Leo. Where is that Leo!” She pulled them out of corners and came bringing them like a mother cat bringing i... | at home, sir. Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! ... | stockings, came to the door to admit me. She was a buxom girl with dark hair and eyes, calm and self-possessed. “Won’t you come in? Mother will be here in a minute.” Before I could sit down in the chair she offered me, the miracle happened; one of those quiet moments that clutch the heart, and take more courage than th... | over a dead dog. The little one, not more than four or five, was on his knees, his hands folded, and his close-clipped, bare head drooping forward in deep dejection. The other stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder, and was comforting him in a language I had not heard for a long while. When I stopped my horses opposi... | with red cheeks and a ruddy pelt as thick as a lamb’s wool, growing down on his neck in little tufts. He tied my team with two flourishes of his hands, and nodded when I asked him if his mother was at home. As he glanced at me, his face dimpled with a seizure of irrelevant merriment, and he shot up the windmill tower w... | My Antonia |
“Now, tell me their names, and how old they are.” | Jim | kitchen and gathering about her.<|quote|>“Now, tell me their names, and how old they are.”</|quote|>As she told them off | outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about her.<|quote|>“Now, tell me their names, and how old they are.”</|quote|>As she told them off in turn, she made several | I won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.” She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While I reassured her and told her there would be plenty of time, the barefooted boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about her.<|quote|>“Now, tell me their names, and ... | dog, somewhere. And call Leo. Where is that Leo!” She pulled them out of corners and came bringing them like a mother cat bringing in her kittens. “You don’t have to go right off, Jim? My oldest boy’s not here. He’s gone with papa to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and ... | eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed. “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm. “No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got ... | sit down in the chair she offered me, the miracle happened; one of those quiet moments that clutch the heart, and take more courage than the noisy, excited passages in life. Ántonia came in and stood before me; a stalwart, brown woman, flat-chested, her curly brown hair a little grizzled. It was a shock, of course. It ... | a hand on his shoulder, and was comforting him in a language I had not heard for a long while. When I stopped my horses opposite them, the older boy took his brother by the hand and came toward me. He, too, looked grave. This was evidently a sad afternoon for them. “Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?” I asked. The younger one... | last, though I had looked at so many thousands of human faces. As I confronted her, the changes grew less apparent to me, her identity stronger. She was there, in the full vigor of her personality, battered but not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s... | My Antonia |
As she told them off in turn, she made several mistakes about ages, and they roared with laughter. When she came to my light-footed friend of the windmill, she said, | No speaker | and how old they are.”<|quote|>As she told them off in turn, she made several mistakes about ages, and they roared with laughter. When she came to my light-footed friend of the windmill, she said,</|quote|>“This is Leo, and he’s | “Now, tell me their names, and how old they are.”<|quote|>As she told them off in turn, she made several mistakes about ages, and they roared with laughter. When she came to my light-footed friend of the windmill, she said,</|quote|>“This is Leo, and he’s old enough to be better | see Rudolph and our papa.” She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While I reassured her and told her there would be plenty of time, the barefooted boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about her. “Now, tell me their names, and how old they are.”<|quote|>As she told them off in ... | pulled them out of corners and came bringing them like a mother cat bringing in her kittens. “You don’t have to go right off, Jim? My oldest boy’s not here. He’s gone with papa to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.” She looked at me imploringly, panting with ... | caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed. “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm. “No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and y... | happened; one of those quiet moments that clutch the heart, and take more courage than the noisy, excited passages in life. Ántonia came in and stood before me; a stalwart, brown woman, flat-chested, her curly brown hair a little grizzled. It was a shock, of course. It always is, to meet people after long years, especi... | a language I had not heard for a long while. When I stopped my horses opposite them, the older boy took his brother by the hand and came toward me. He, too, looked grave. This was evidently a sad afternoon for them. “Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?” I asked. The younger one did not look up; he was submerged in his own feel... | much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alar... | My Antonia |
“This is Leo, and he’s old enough to be better than he is.” | Antonia | of the windmill, she said,<|quote|>“This is Leo, and he’s old enough to be better than he is.”</|quote|>He ran up to her | came to my light-footed friend of the windmill, she said,<|quote|>“This is Leo, and he’s old enough to be better than he is.”</|quote|>He ran up to her and butted her playfully with | outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about her. “Now, tell me their names, and how old they are.” As she told them off in turn, she made several mistakes about ages, and they roared with laughter. When she came to my light-footed friend of the windmill, she said,<|quote|>“This is Leo, and he’s old enoug... | He’s gone with papa to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.” She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While I reassured her and told her there would be plenty of time, the barefooted boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering ... | Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm. “No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and your family.” She dropped my hand and began rushing about. “Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, and hunt for the boys. They’re off looking for that dog, somewhere. ... | brown woman, flat-chested, her curly brown hair a little grizzled. It was a shock, of course. It always is, to meet people after long years, especially if they have lived as much and as hard as this woman had. We stood looking at each other. The eyes that peered anxiously at me were—simply Ántonia’s eyes. I had seen no... | He, too, looked grave. This was evidently a sad afternoon for them. “Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?” I asked. The younger one did not look up; he was submerged in his own feelings, but his brother met me with intelligent gray eyes. “Yes, sir.” “Does she live up there on the hill? I am going to see her. Get in and ride up ... | the full vigor of her personality, battered but not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair lo... | My Antonia |
He ran up to her and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate. | No speaker | be better than he is.”<|quote|>He ran up to her and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate.</|quote|>“You’ve forgot! You always forget | and he’s old enough to be better than he is.”<|quote|>He ran up to her and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate.</|quote|>“You’ve forgot! You always forget mine. It’s mean! Please tell | their names, and how old they are.” As she told them off in turn, she made several mistakes about ages, and they roared with laughter. When she came to my light-footed friend of the windmill, she said, “This is Leo, and he’s old enough to be better than he is.”<|quote|>He ran up to her and butted her playfully with his... | you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.” She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While I reassured her and told her there would be plenty of time, the barefooted boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about her. “Now, tell me their names, and how old they are.” A... | a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and your family.” She dropped my hand and began rushing about. “Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, and hunt for the boys. They’re off looking for that dog, somewhere. And call Leo. Where is that Leo!” She pulled them out of co... | shock, of course. It always is, to meet people after long years, especially if they have lived as much and as hard as this woman had. We stood looking at each other. The eyes that peered anxiously at me were—simply Ántonia’s eyes. I had seen no others like them since I looked into them last, though I had looked at so m... | you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?” I asked. The younger one did not look up; he was submerged in his own feelings, but his brother met me with intelligent gray eyes. “Yes, sir.” “Does she live up there on the hill? I am going to see her. Get in and ride up with me.” He glanced at his reluctant little brother. “I guess we’d bette... | take more courage than the noisy, excited passages in life. Ántonia came in and stood before me; a stalwart, brown woman, flat-chested, her curly brown hair a little grizzled. It was a shock, of course. It always is, to meet people after long years, especially if they have lived as much and as hard as this woman had. W... | My Antonia |
He clenched his fists in vexation and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her forefinger in his yellow fleece and pulled it, watching him. | No speaker | mean! Please tell him, mother!”<|quote|>He clenched his fists in vexation and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her forefinger in his yellow fleece and pulled it, watching him.</|quote|>“Well, how old are you?” | You always forget mine. It’s mean! Please tell him, mother!”<|quote|>He clenched his fists in vexation and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her forefinger in his yellow fleece and pulled it, watching him.</|quote|>“Well, how old are you?” “I’m twelve,” he panted, looking | she said, “This is Leo, and he’s old enough to be better than he is.” He ran up to her and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate. “You’ve forgot! You always forget mine. It’s mean! Please tell him, mother!”<|quote|>He clenched his fists in vexation and looked up ... | boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about her. “Now, tell me their names, and how old they are.” As she told them off in turn, she made several mistakes about ages, and they roared with laughter. When she came to my light-footed friend of the windmill, she said, “This is Leo, and he’s old eno... | Run, Anna, and hunt for the boys. They’re off looking for that dog, somewhere. And call Leo. Where is that Leo!” She pulled them out of corners and came bringing them like a mother cat bringing in her kittens. “You don’t have to go right off, Jim? My oldest boy’s not here. He’s gone with papa to the street fair at Wilb... | peered anxiously at me were—simply Ántonia’s eyes. I had seen no others like them since I looked into them last, though I had looked at so many thousands of human faces. As I confronted her, the changes grew less apparent to me, her identity stronger. She was there, in the full vigor of her personality, battered but no... | there on the hill? I am going to see her. Get in and ride up with me.” He glanced at his reluctant little brother. “I guess we’d better walk. But we’ll open the gate for you.” I drove along the side-road and they followed slowly behind. When I pulled up at the windmill, another boy, barefooted and curly-headed, ran out... | stood before me; a stalwart, brown woman, flat-chested, her curly brown hair a little grizzled. It was a shock, of course. It always is, to meet people after long years, especially if they have lived as much and as hard as this woman had. We stood looking at each other. The eyes that peered anxiously at me were—simply ... | My Antonia |
“Well, how old are you?” | Jim | and pulled it, watching him.<|quote|>“Well, how old are you?”</|quote|>“I’m twelve,” he panted, looking | forefinger in his yellow fleece and pulled it, watching him.<|quote|>“Well, how old are you?”</|quote|>“I’m twelve,” he panted, looking not at me but at | his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate. “You’ve forgot! You always forget mine. It’s mean! Please tell him, mother!” He clenched his fists in vexation and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her forefinger in his yellow fleece and pulled it, watching him.<|quote|>“Well, how old are yo... | them off in turn, she made several mistakes about ages, and they roared with laughter. When she came to my light-footed friend of the windmill, she said, “This is Leo, and he’s old enough to be better than he is.” He ran up to her and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite ... | of corners and came bringing them like a mother cat bringing in her kittens. “You don’t have to go right off, Jim? My oldest boy’s not here. He’s gone with papa to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.” She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. Whi... | so many thousands of human faces. As I confronted her, the changes grew less apparent to me, her identity stronger. She was there, in the full vigor of her personality, battered but not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do a... | guess we’d better walk. But we’ll open the gate for you.” I drove along the side-road and they followed slowly behind. When I pulled up at the windmill, another boy, barefooted and curly-headed, ran out of the barn to tie my team for me. He was a handsome one, this chap, fair-skinned and freckled, with red cheeks and a... | the boys. They’re off looking for that dog, somewhere. And call Leo. Where is that Leo!” She pulled them out of corners and came bringing them like a mother cat bringing in her kittens. “You don’t have to go right off, Jim? My oldest boy’s not here. He’s gone with papa to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you go! ... | My Antonia |
he panted, looking not at me but at her; | No speaker | old are you?” “I’m twelve,”<|quote|>he panted, looking not at me but at her;</|quote|>“I’m twelve years old, and | it, watching him. “Well, how old are you?” “I’m twelve,”<|quote|>he panted, looking not at me but at her;</|quote|>“I’m twelve years old, and I was born on Easter | but his voice was quite desperate. “You’ve forgot! You always forget mine. It’s mean! Please tell him, mother!” He clenched his fists in vexation and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her forefinger in his yellow fleece and pulled it, watching him. “Well, how old are you?” “I’m twelve,”<|quote|>he panted, lookin... | mistakes about ages, and they roared with laughter. When she came to my light-footed friend of the windmill, she said, “This is Leo, and he’s old enough to be better than he is.” He ran up to her and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate. “You’ve forgot! You alwa... | a mother cat bringing in her kittens. “You don’t have to go right off, Jim? My oldest boy’s not here. He’s gone with papa to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.” She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While I reassured her and told her there w... | I confronted her, the changes grew less apparent to me, her identity stronger. She was there, in the full vigor of her personality, battered but not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ánt... | the gate for you.” I drove along the side-road and they followed slowly behind. When I pulled up at the windmill, another boy, barefooted and curly-headed, ran out of the barn to tie my team for me. He was a handsome one, this chap, fair-skinned and freckled, with red cheeks and a ruddy pelt as thick as a lamb’s wool, ... | life. Ántonia came in and stood before me; a stalwart, brown woman, flat-chested, her curly brown hair a little grizzled. It was a shock, of course. It always is, to meet people after long years, especially if they have lived as much and as hard as this woman had. We stood looking at each other. The eyes that peered an... | My Antonia |
She nodded to me. | No speaker | was born on Easter day!”<|quote|>She nodded to me.</|quote|>“It’s true. He was an | twelve years old, and I was born on Easter day!”<|quote|>She nodded to me.</|quote|>“It’s true. He was an Easter baby.” The children all | his fists in vexation and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her forefinger in his yellow fleece and pulled it, watching him. “Well, how old are you?” “I’m twelve,” he panted, looking not at me but at her; “I’m twelve years old, and I was born on Easter day!”<|quote|>She nodded to me.</|quote|>“It’s true. He was a... | “This is Leo, and he’s old enough to be better than he is.” He ran up to her and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate. “You’ve forgot! You always forget mine. It’s mean! Please tell him, mother!” He clenched his fists in vexation and looked up at her impetuously... | He’s gone with papa to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.” She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While I reassured her and told her there would be plenty of time, the barefooted boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering ... | of her personality, battered but not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than ... | windmill, another boy, barefooted and curly-headed, ran out of the barn to tie my team for me. He was a handsome one, this chap, fair-skinned and freckled, with red cheeks and a ruddy pelt as thick as a lamb’s wool, growing down on his neck in little tufts. He tied my team with two flourishes of his hands, and nodded w... | Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, i... | My Antonia |
“It’s true. He was an Easter baby.” | Antonia | day!” She nodded to me.<|quote|>“It’s true. He was an Easter baby.”</|quote|>The children all looked at | I was born on Easter day!” She nodded to me.<|quote|>“It’s true. He was an Easter baby.”</|quote|>The children all looked at me, as if they expected | and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her forefinger in his yellow fleece and pulled it, watching him. “Well, how old are you?” “I’m twelve,” he panted, looking not at me but at her; “I’m twelve years old, and I was born on Easter day!” She nodded to me.<|quote|>“It’s true. He was an Easter baby.”</|quote|>The ch... | he’s old enough to be better than he is.” He ran up to her and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate. “You’ve forgot! You always forget mine. It’s mean! Please tell him, mother!” He clenched his fists in vexation and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her f... | to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.” She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While I reassured her and told her there would be plenty of time, the barefooted boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about her. “Now, tel... | but not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes wid... | and curly-headed, ran out of the barn to tie my team for me. He was a handsome one, this chap, fair-skinned and freckled, with red cheeks and a ruddy pelt as thick as a lamb’s wool, growing down on his neck in little tufts. He tied my team with two flourishes of his hands, and nodded when I asked him if his mother was ... | arm. “No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and your family.” She dropped my hand and began rushing about. “Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, and hunt for the boys. They’re off looking for that dog, somewhere. And call Leo. Where is that Leo... | My Antonia |
The children all looked at me, as if they expected me to exhibit astonishment or delight at this information. Clearly, they were proud of each other, and of being so many. When they had all been introduced, Anna, the eldest daughter, who had met me at the door, scattered them gently, and came bringing a white apron whi... | No speaker | He was an Easter baby.”<|quote|>The children all looked at me, as if they expected me to exhibit astonishment or delight at this information. Clearly, they were proud of each other, and of being so many. When they had all been introduced, Anna, the eldest daughter, who had met me at the door, scattered them gently, and... | nodded to me. “It’s true. He was an Easter baby.”<|quote|>The children all looked at me, as if they expected me to exhibit astonishment or delight at this information. Clearly, they were proud of each other, and of being so many. When they had all been introduced, Anna, the eldest daughter, who had met me at the door, ... | wound her forefinger in his yellow fleece and pulled it, watching him. “Well, how old are you?” “I’m twelve,” he panted, looking not at me but at her; “I’m twelve years old, and I was born on Easter day!” She nodded to me. “It’s true. He was an Easter baby.”<|quote|>The children all looked at me, as if they expected me... | he is.” He ran up to her and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate. “You’ve forgot! You always forget mine. It’s mean! Please tell him, mother!” He clenched his fists in vexation and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her forefinger in his yellow fleece and... | won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.” She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While I reassured her and told her there would be plenty of time, the barefooted boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about her. “Now, tell me their names, and how old th... | to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader.... | to tie my team for me. He was a handsome one, this chap, fair-skinned and freckled, with red cheeks and a ruddy pelt as thick as a lamb’s wool, growing down on his neck in little tufts. He tied my team with two flourishes of his hands, and nodded when I asked him if his mother was at home. As he glanced at me, his face... | anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim B... | My Antonia |
Ántonia looked about, quite distracted. | No speaker | quietly and not disturb you.”<|quote|>Ántonia looked about, quite distracted.</|quote|>“Yes, child, but why don’t | Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.”<|quote|>Ántonia looked about, quite distracted.</|quote|>“Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the | they had all been introduced, Anna, the eldest daughter, who had met me at the door, scattered them gently, and came bringing a white apron which she tied round her mother’s waist. “Now, mother, sit down and talk to Mr. Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.”<|quote|>Ántonia looked about, quite di... | and I was born on Easter day!” She nodded to me. “It’s true. He was an Easter baby.” The children all looked at me, as if they expected me to exhibit astonishment or delight at this information. Clearly, they were proud of each other, and of being so many. When they had all been introduced, Anna, the eldest daughter, w... | light-footed friend of the windmill, she said, “This is Leo, and he’s old enough to be better than he is.” He ran up to her and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate. “You’ve forgot! You always forget mine. It’s mean! Please tell him, mother!” He clenched his fis... | hands than she looked alarmed. “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm. “No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and your family.” She dropped my hand and began rushing about. “Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, and hunt for the bo... | lightness that struck me as disdainful. I knew he was peering down at me as I walked toward the house. Ducks and geese ran quacking across my path. White cats were sunning themselves among yellow pumpkins on the porch steps. I looked through the wire screen into a big, light kitchen with a white floor. I saw a long tab... | did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and your family.” She dropped my hand and began rushing about. “Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, and hunt for the boys. They’re off looking for that dog, somewhere. And call Leo. Where is that Leo!” She pulle... | My Antonia |
“Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?” | Antonia | Ántonia looked about, quite distracted.<|quote|>“Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?”</|quote|>The daughter laughed indulgently, and | quietly and not disturb you.” Ántonia looked about, quite distracted.<|quote|>“Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?”</|quote|>The daughter laughed indulgently, and took my hat from me. | Anna, the eldest daughter, who had met me at the door, scattered them gently, and came bringing a white apron which she tied round her mother’s waist. “Now, mother, sit down and talk to Mr. Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.” Ántonia looked about, quite distracted.<|quote|>“Yes, child, but why... | Easter day!” She nodded to me. “It’s true. He was an Easter baby.” The children all looked at me, as if they expected me to exhibit astonishment or delight at this information. Clearly, they were proud of each other, and of being so many. When they had all been introduced, Anna, the eldest daughter, who had met me at t... | she said, “This is Leo, and he’s old enough to be better than he is.” He ran up to her and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate. “You’ve forgot! You always forget mine. It’s mean! Please tell him, mother!” He clenched his fists in vexation and looked up at her i... | “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm. “No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and your family.” She dropped my hand and began rushing about. “Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, and hunt for the boys. They’re off looking for tha... | disdainful. I knew he was peering down at me as I walked toward the house. Ducks and geese ran quacking across my path. White cats were sunning themselves among yellow pumpkins on the porch steps. I looked through the wire screen into a big, light kitchen with a white floor. I saw a long table, rows of wooden chairs ag... | time, the barefooted boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about her. “Now, tell me their names, and how old they are.” As she told them off in turn, she made several mistakes about ages, and they roared with laughter. When she came to my light-footed friend of the windmill, she said, “This is ... | My Antonia |
The daughter laughed indulgently, and took my hat from me. | No speaker | a nice parlor for company?”<|quote|>The daughter laughed indulgently, and took my hat from me.</|quote|>“Well, you’re here, now, mother, | parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?”<|quote|>The daughter laughed indulgently, and took my hat from me.</|quote|>“Well, you’re here, now, mother, and if you talk here, | which she tied round her mother’s waist. “Now, mother, sit down and talk to Mr. Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.” Ántonia looked about, quite distracted. “Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?”<|quote|>The daughter laughed indulg... | if they expected me to exhibit astonishment or delight at this information. Clearly, they were proud of each other, and of being so many. When they had all been introduced, Anna, the eldest daughter, who had met me at the door, scattered them gently, and came bringing a white apron which she tied round her mother’s wai... | and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate. “You’ve forgot! You always forget mine. It’s mean! Please tell him, mother!” He clenched his fists in vexation and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her forefinger in his yellow fleece and pulled it, watching him.... | got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and your family.” She dropped my hand and began rushing about. “Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, and hunt for the boys. They’re off looking for that dog, somewhere. And call Leo. Where is that Leo!” She pulled them out of corners and came bringing... | across my path. White cats were sunning themselves among yellow pumpkins on the porch steps. I looked through the wire screen into a big, light kitchen with a white floor. I saw a long table, rows of wooden chairs against the wall, and a shining range in one corner. Two girls were washing dishes at the sink, laughing a... | that dog, somewhere. And call Leo. Where is that Leo!” She pulled them out of corners and came bringing them like a mother cat bringing in her kittens. “You don’t have to go right off, Jim? My oldest boy’s not here. He’s gone with papa to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph... | My Antonia |
She smiled at me, and went back to the dishes, with her sister. The little girl with the rag doll found a place on the bottom step of an enclosed back stairway, and sat with her toes curled up, looking out at us expectantly. | No speaker | him the parlor after while.”<|quote|>She smiled at me, and went back to the dishes, with her sister. The little girl with the rag doll found a place on the bottom step of an enclosed back stairway, and sat with her toes curled up, looking out at us expectantly.</|quote|>“She’s Nina, after Nina Harling,” | listen, too. You can show him the parlor after while.”<|quote|>She smiled at me, and went back to the dishes, with her sister. The little girl with the rag doll found a place on the bottom step of an enclosed back stairway, and sat with her toes curled up, looking out at us expectantly.</|quote|>“She’s Nina, after Nina... | don’t we take him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?” The daughter laughed indulgently, and took my hat from me. “Well, you’re here, now, mother, and if you talk here, Yulka and I can listen, too. You can show him the parlor after while.”<|quote|>She smiled at me, and went back to the dishes... | who had met me at the door, scattered them gently, and came bringing a white apron which she tied round her mother’s waist. “Now, mother, sit down and talk to Mr. Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.” Ántonia looked about, quite distracted. “Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the parlor,... | in vexation and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her forefinger in his yellow fleece and pulled it, watching him. “Well, how old are you?” “I’m twelve,” he panted, looking not at me but at her; “I’m twelve years old, and I was born on Easter day!” She nodded to me. “It’s true. He was an Easter baby.” The childre... | for the boys. They’re off looking for that dog, somewhere. And call Leo. Where is that Leo!” She pulled them out of corners and came bringing them like a mother cat bringing in her kittens. “You don’t have to go right off, Jim? My oldest boy’s not here. He’s gone with papa to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you ... | table, rows of wooden chairs against the wall, and a shining range in one corner. Two girls were washing dishes at the sink, laughing and chattering, and a little one, in a short pinafore, sat on a stool playing with a rag baby. When I asked for their mother, one of the girls dropped her towel, ran across the floor wit... | Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, i... | My Antonia |
“She’s Nina, after Nina Harling,” | Antonia | looking out at us expectantly.<|quote|>“She’s Nina, after Nina Harling,”</|quote|>Ántonia explained. “Ain’t her eyes | with her toes curled up, looking out at us expectantly.<|quote|>“She’s Nina, after Nina Harling,”</|quote|>Ántonia explained. “Ain’t her eyes like Nina’s? I declare, Jim, | show him the parlor after while.” She smiled at me, and went back to the dishes, with her sister. The little girl with the rag doll found a place on the bottom step of an enclosed back stairway, and sat with her toes curled up, looking out at us expectantly.<|quote|>“She’s Nina, after Nina Harling,”</|quote|>Ántonia ex... | quite distracted. “Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?” The daughter laughed indulgently, and took my hat from me. “Well, you’re here, now, mother, and if you talk here, Yulka and I can listen, too. You can show him the parlor after while.” She smiled at ... | born on Easter day!” She nodded to me. “It’s true. He was an Easter baby.” The children all looked at me, as if they expected me to exhibit astonishment or delight at this information. Clearly, they were proud of each other, and of being so many. When they had all been introduced, Anna, the eldest daughter, who had met... | oldest boy’s not here. He’s gone with papa to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.” She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While I reassured her and told her there would be plenty of time, the barefooted boys from outside were slipping into the... | I asked for their mother, one of the girls dropped her towel, ran across the floor with noiseless bare feet, and disappeared. The older one, who wore shoes and stockings, came to the door to admit me. She was a buxom girl with dark hair and eyes, calm and self-possessed. “Won’t you come in? Mother will be here in a min... | grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed. “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm. “No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove dow... | My Antonia |
Ántonia explained. | No speaker | “She’s Nina, after Nina Harling,”<|quote|>Ántonia explained.</|quote|>“Ain’t her eyes like Nina’s? | looking out at us expectantly. “She’s Nina, after Nina Harling,”<|quote|>Ántonia explained.</|quote|>“Ain’t her eyes like Nina’s? I declare, Jim, I loved | while.” She smiled at me, and went back to the dishes, with her sister. The little girl with the rag doll found a place on the bottom step of an enclosed back stairway, and sat with her toes curled up, looking out at us expectantly. “She’s Nina, after Nina Harling,”<|quote|>Ántonia explained.</|quote|>“Ain’t her eyes l... | why don’t we take him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?” The daughter laughed indulgently, and took my hat from me. “Well, you’re here, now, mother, and if you talk here, Yulka and I can listen, too. You can show him the parlor after while.” She smiled at me, and went back to the dishes, wi... | nodded to me. “It’s true. He was an Easter baby.” The children all looked at me, as if they expected me to exhibit astonishment or delight at this information. Clearly, they were proud of each other, and of being so many. When they had all been introduced, Anna, the eldest daughter, who had met me at the door, scattere... | gone with papa to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.” She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While I reassured her and told her there would be plenty of time, the barefooted boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about... | one of the girls dropped her towel, ran across the floor with noiseless bare feet, and disappeared. The older one, who wore shoes and stockings, came to the door to admit me. She was a buxom girl with dark hair and eyes, calm and self-possessed. “Won’t you come in? Mother will be here in a minute.” Before I could sit d... | vexation and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her forefinger in his yellow fleece and pulled it, watching him. “Well, how old are you?” “I’m twelve,” he panted, looking not at me but at her; “I’m twelve years old, and I was born on Easter day!” She nodded to me. “It’s true. He was an Easter baby.” The children a... | My Antonia |
“Ain’t her eyes like Nina’s? I declare, Jim, I loved you children almost as much as I love my own. These children know all about you and Charley and Sally, like as if they’d grown up with you. I can’t think of what I want to say, you’ve got me so stirred up. And then, I’ve forgot my English so. I don’t often talk it an... | Antonia | after Nina Harling,” Ántonia explained.<|quote|>“Ain’t her eyes like Nina’s? I declare, Jim, I loved you children almost as much as I love my own. These children know all about you and Charley and Sally, like as if they’d grown up with you. I can’t think of what I want to say, you’ve got me so stirred up. And then, I’v... | at us expectantly. “She’s Nina, after Nina Harling,” Ántonia explained.<|quote|>“Ain’t her eyes like Nina’s? I declare, Jim, I loved you children almost as much as I love my own. These children know all about you and Charley and Sally, like as if they’d grown up with you. I can’t think of what I want to say, you’ve got... | smiled at me, and went back to the dishes, with her sister. The little girl with the rag doll found a place on the bottom step of an enclosed back stairway, and sat with her toes curled up, looking out at us expectantly. “She’s Nina, after Nina Harling,” Ántonia explained.<|quote|>“Ain’t her eyes like Nina’s? I declare... | we take him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?” The daughter laughed indulgently, and took my hat from me. “Well, you’re here, now, mother, and if you talk here, Yulka and I can listen, too. You can show him the parlor after while.” She smiled at me, and went back to the dishes, with her sis... | me. “It’s true. He was an Easter baby.” The children all looked at me, as if they expected me to exhibit astonishment or delight at this information. Clearly, they were proud of each other, and of being so many. When they had all been introduced, Anna, the eldest daughter, who had met me at the door, scattered them gen... | papa to the street fair at Wilber. I won’t let you go! You’ve got to stay and see Rudolph and our papa.” She looked at me imploringly, panting with excitement. While I reassured her and told her there would be plenty of time, the barefooted boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about her. “Now... | the girls dropped her towel, ran across the floor with noiseless bare feet, and disappeared. The older one, who wore shoes and stockings, came to the door to admit me. She was a buxom girl with dark hair and eyes, calm and self-possessed. “Won’t you come in? Mother will be here in a minute.” Before I could sit down in ... | and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate. “You’ve forgot! You always forget mine. It’s mean! Please tell him, mother!” He clenched his fists in vexation and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her forefinger in his yellow fleece and pulled it, watching him.... | My Antonia |
She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak English at all—did n’t learn it until they went to school. | No speaker | used to speak real well.”<|quote|>She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak English at all—did n’t learn it until they went to school.</|quote|>“I can’t believe it’s you, | I tell the children I used to speak real well.”<|quote|>She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak English at all—did n’t learn it until they went to school.</|quote|>“I can’t believe it’s you, sitting here, in my own | Charley and Sally, like as if they’d grown up with you. I can’t think of what I want to say, you’ve got me so stirred up. And then, I’ve forgot my English so. I don’t often talk it any more. I tell the children I used to speak real well.”<|quote|>She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not sp... | an enclosed back stairway, and sat with her toes curled up, looking out at us expectantly. “She’s Nina, after Nina Harling,” Ántonia explained. “Ain’t her eyes like Nina’s? I declare, Jim, I loved you children almost as much as I love my own. These children know all about you and Charley and Sally, like as if they’d gr... | talk to Mr. Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.” Ántonia looked about, quite distracted. “Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?” The daughter laughed indulgently, and took my hat from me. “Well, you’re here, now, mother, and if you ... | mistakes about ages, and they roared with laughter. When she came to my light-footed friend of the windmill, she said, “This is Leo, and he’s old enough to be better than he is.” He ran up to her and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate. “You’ve forgot! You alwa... | and take more courage than the noisy, excited passages in life. Ántonia came in and stood before me; a stalwart, brown woman, flat-chested, her curly brown hair a little grizzled. It was a shock, of course. It always is, to meet people after long years, especially if they have lived as much and as hard as this woman ha... | be plenty of time, the barefooted boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about her. “Now, tell me their names, and how old they are.” As she told them off in turn, she made several mistakes about ages, and they roared with laughter. When she came to my light-footed friend of the windmill, she sa... | My Antonia |
“I can’t believe it’s you, sitting here, in my own kitchen. You would n’t have known me, would you, Jim? You’ve kept so young, yourself. But it’s easier for a man. I can’t see how my Anton looks any older than the day I married him. His teeth have kept so nice. I have n’t got many left. But I feel just as young as I us... | Antonia | until they went to school.<|quote|>“I can’t believe it’s you, sitting here, in my own kitchen. You would n’t have known me, would you, Jim? You’ve kept so young, yourself. But it’s easier for a man. I can’t see how my Anton looks any older than the day I married him. His teeth have kept so nice. I have n’t got many lef... | at all—did n’t learn it until they went to school.<|quote|>“I can’t believe it’s you, sitting here, in my own kitchen. You would n’t have known me, would you, Jim? You’ve kept so young, yourself. But it’s easier for a man. I can’t see how my Anton looks any older than the day I married him. His teeth have kept so nice.... | up. And then, I’ve forgot my English so. I don’t often talk it any more. I tell the children I used to speak real well.” She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak English at all—did n’t learn it until they went to school.<|quote|>“I can’t believe it’s you, sitting here, in my own kitc... | eyes like Nina’s? I declare, Jim, I loved you children almost as much as I love my own. These children know all about you and Charley and Sally, like as if they’d grown up with you. I can’t think of what I want to say, you’ve got me so stirred up. And then, I’ve forgot my English so. I don’t often talk it any more. I t... | him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?” The daughter laughed indulgently, and took my hat from me. “Well, you’re here, now, mother, and if you talk here, Yulka and I can listen, too. You can show him the parlor after while.” She smiled at me, and went back to the dishes, with her sister. The... | old enough to be better than he is.” He ran up to her and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate. “You’ve forgot! You always forget mine. It’s mean! Please tell him, mother!” He clenched his fists in vexation and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her forefi... | brown hair a little grizzled. It was a shock, of course. It always is, to meet people after long years, especially if they have lived as much and as hard as this woman had. We stood looking at each other. The eyes that peered anxiously at me were—simply Ántonia’s eyes. I had seen no others like them since I looked into... | old they are.” As she told them off in turn, she made several mistakes about ages, and they roared with laughter. When she came to my light-footed friend of the windmill, she said, “This is Leo, and he’s old enough to be better than he is.” He ran up to her and butted her playfully with his curly head, like a little ra... | My Antonia |
When I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed. | No speaker | many have you got, Jim?”<|quote|>When I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed.</|quote|>“Oh, ain’t that too bad! | papa and me. And how many have you got, Jim?”<|quote|>When I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed.</|quote|>“Oh, ain’t that too bad! Maybe you could take one | so nice. I have n’t got many left. But I feel just as young as I used to, and I can do as much work. Oh, we don’t have to work so hard now! We’ve got plenty to help us, papa and me. And how many have you got, Jim?”<|quote|>When I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed.</|quote|>“Oh, ain’t that too bad! Maybe... | “I can’t believe it’s you, sitting here, in my own kitchen. You would n’t have known me, would you, Jim? You’ve kept so young, yourself. But it’s easier for a man. I can’t see how my Anton looks any older than the day I married him. His teeth have kept so nice. I have n’t got many left. But I feel just as young as I us... | eyes like Nina’s? I declare, Jim, I loved you children almost as much as I love my own. These children know all about you and Charley and Sally, like as if they’d grown up with you. I can’t think of what I want to say, you’ve got me so stirred up. And then, I’ve forgot my English so. I don’t often talk it any more. I t... | true. He was an Easter baby.” The children all looked at me, as if they expected me to exhibit astonishment or delight at this information. Clearly, they were proud of each other, and of being so many. When they had all been introduced, Anna, the eldest daughter, who had met me at the door, scattered them gently, and c... | not diminished, looking at me, speaking to me in the husky, breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened... | like a little ram, but his voice was quite desperate. “You’ve forgot! You always forget mine. It’s mean! Please tell him, mother!” He clenched his fists in vexation and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her forefinger in his yellow fleece and pulled it, watching him. “Well, how old are you?” “I’m twelve,” he pan... | My Antonia |
“Oh, ain’t that too bad! Maybe you could take one of my bad ones, now? That Leo; he’s the worst of all.” | Antonia | no children she seemed embarrassed.<|quote|>“Oh, ain’t that too bad! Maybe you could take one of my bad ones, now? That Leo; he’s the worst of all.”</|quote|>She leaned toward me with | I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed.<|quote|>“Oh, ain’t that too bad! Maybe you could take one of my bad ones, now? That Leo; he’s the worst of all.”</|quote|>She leaned toward me with a smile. “And I love | just as young as I used to, and I can do as much work. Oh, we don’t have to work so hard now! We’ve got plenty to help us, papa and me. And how many have you got, Jim?” When I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed.<|quote|>“Oh, ain’t that too bad! Maybe you could take one of my bad ones, now? That Leo; he’s... | You would n’t have known me, would you, Jim? You’ve kept so young, yourself. But it’s easier for a man. I can’t see how my Anton looks any older than the day I married him. His teeth have kept so nice. I have n’t got many left. But I feel just as young as I used to, and I can do as much work. Oh, we don’t have to work ... | as much as I love my own. These children know all about you and Charley and Sally, like as if they’d grown up with you. I can’t think of what I want to say, you’ve got me so stirred up. And then, I’ve forgot my English so. I don’t often talk it any more. I tell the children I used to speak real well.” She said they alw... | me, as if they expected me to exhibit astonishment or delight at this information. Clearly, they were proud of each other, and of being so many. When they had all been introduced, Anna, the eldest daughter, who had met me at the door, scattered them gently, and came bringing a white apron which she tied round her mothe... | breathy voice I remembered so well. “My husband’s not at home, sir. Can I do anything?” “Don’t you remember me, Ántonia? Have I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her brea... | quite desperate. “You’ve forgot! You always forget mine. It’s mean! Please tell him, mother!” He clenched his fists in vexation and looked up at her impetuously. She wound her forefinger in his yellow fleece and pulled it, watching him. “Well, how old are you?” “I’m twelve,” he panted, looking not at me but at her; “I... | My Antonia |
She leaned toward me with a smile. | No speaker | he’s the worst of all.”<|quote|>She leaned toward me with a smile.</|quote|>“And I love him the | bad ones, now? That Leo; he’s the worst of all.”<|quote|>She leaned toward me with a smile.</|quote|>“And I love him the best,” she whispered. “Mother!” the | now! We’ve got plenty to help us, papa and me. And how many have you got, Jim?” When I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed. “Oh, ain’t that too bad! Maybe you could take one of my bad ones, now? That Leo; he’s the worst of all.”<|quote|>She leaned toward me with a smile.</|quote|>“And I love him the best,... | see how my Anton looks any older than the day I married him. His teeth have kept so nice. I have n’t got many left. But I feel just as young as I used to, and I can do as much work. Oh, we don’t have to work so hard now! We’ve got plenty to help us, papa and me. And how many have you got, Jim?” When I told her I had no... | up with you. I can’t think of what I want to say, you’ve got me so stirred up. And then, I’ve forgot my English so. I don’t often talk it any more. I tell the children I used to speak real well.” She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak English at all—did n’t learn it until they went... | of being so many. When they had all been introduced, Anna, the eldest daughter, who had met me at the door, scattered them gently, and came bringing a white apron which she tied round her mother’s waist. “Now, mother, sit down and talk to Mr. Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.” Ántonia looked ... | I changed so much?” She frowned into the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” She had no sooner caught my hands than sh... | watching him. “Well, how old are you?” “I’m twelve,” he panted, looking not at me but at her; “I’m twelve years old, and I was born on Easter day!” She nodded to me. “It’s true. He was an Easter baby.” The children all looked at me, as if they expected me to exhibit astonishment or delight at this information. Clearly,... | My Antonia |
“And I love him the best,” | Antonia | toward me with a smile.<|quote|>“And I love him the best,”</|quote|>she whispered. “Mother!” the two | worst of all.” She leaned toward me with a smile.<|quote|>“And I love him the best,”</|quote|>she whispered. “Mother!” the two girls murmured reproachfully from the | papa and me. And how many have you got, Jim?” When I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed. “Oh, ain’t that too bad! Maybe you could take one of my bad ones, now? That Leo; he’s the worst of all.” She leaned toward me with a smile.<|quote|>“And I love him the best,”</|quote|>she whispered. “Mother!” the two... | than the day I married him. His teeth have kept so nice. I have n’t got many left. But I feel just as young as I used to, and I can do as much work. Oh, we don’t have to work so hard now! We’ve got plenty to help us, papa and me. And how many have you got, Jim?” When I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed.... | what I want to say, you’ve got me so stirred up. And then, I’ve forgot my English so. I don’t often talk it any more. I tell the children I used to speak real well.” She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak English at all—did n’t learn it until they went to school. “I can’t believe i... | all been introduced, Anna, the eldest daughter, who had met me at the door, scattered them gently, and came bringing a white apron which she tied round her mother’s waist. “Now, mother, sit down and talk to Mr. Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.” Ántonia looked about, quite distracted. “Yes, c... | the slanting sunlight that made her brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed. “What’s happened? I... | distracted. “Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?” The daughter laughed indulgently, and took my hat from me. “Well, you’re here, now, mother, and if you talk here, Yulka and I can listen, too. You can show him the parlor after while.” She smiled at me, an... | My Antonia |
she whispered. | No speaker | I love him the best,”<|quote|>she whispered.</|quote|>“Mother!” the two girls murmured | me with a smile. “And I love him the best,”<|quote|>she whispered.</|quote|>“Mother!” the two girls murmured reproachfully from the dishes. Ántonia | have you got, Jim?” When I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed. “Oh, ain’t that too bad! Maybe you could take one of my bad ones, now? That Leo; he’s the worst of all.” She leaned toward me with a smile. “And I love him the best,”<|quote|>she whispered.</|quote|>“Mother!” the two girls murmured reproachfu... | His teeth have kept so nice. I have n’t got many left. But I feel just as young as I used to, and I can do as much work. Oh, we don’t have to work so hard now! We’ve got plenty to help us, papa and me. And how many have you got, Jim?” When I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed. “Oh, ain’t that too bad! Ma... | got me so stirred up. And then, I’ve forgot my English so. I don’t often talk it any more. I tell the children I used to speak real well.” She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak English at all—did n’t learn it until they went to school. “I can’t believe it’s you, sitting here, in m... | daughter, who had met me at the door, scattered them gently, and came bringing a white apron which she tied round her mother’s waist. “Now, mother, sit down and talk to Mr. Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.” Ántonia looked about, quite distracted. “Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into t... | brown hair look redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed. “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm. “... | and came bringing a white apron which she tied round her mother’s waist. “Now, mother, sit down and talk to Mr. Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.” Ántonia looked about, quite distracted. “Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?” The... | My Antonia |
the two girls murmured reproachfully from the dishes. Ántonia threw up her head and laughed. | No speaker | the best,” she whispered. “Mother!”<|quote|>the two girls murmured reproachfully from the dishes. Ántonia threw up her head and laughed.</|quote|>“I can’t help it. You | smile. “And I love him the best,” she whispered. “Mother!”<|quote|>the two girls murmured reproachfully from the dishes. Ántonia threw up her head and laughed.</|quote|>“I can’t help it. You know I do. Maybe it’s | Jim?” When I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed. “Oh, ain’t that too bad! Maybe you could take one of my bad ones, now? That Leo; he’s the worst of all.” She leaned toward me with a smile. “And I love him the best,” she whispered. “Mother!”<|quote|>the two girls murmured reproachfully from the dishes. Á... | kept so nice. I have n’t got many left. But I feel just as young as I used to, and I can do as much work. Oh, we don’t have to work so hard now! We’ve got plenty to help us, papa and me. And how many have you got, Jim?” When I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed. “Oh, ain’t that too bad! Maybe you could t... | stirred up. And then, I’ve forgot my English so. I don’t often talk it any more. I tell the children I used to speak real well.” She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak English at all—did n’t learn it until they went to school. “I can’t believe it’s you, sitting here, in my own kitc... | met me at the door, scattered them gently, and came bringing a white apron which she tied round her mother’s waist. “Now, mother, sit down and talk to Mr. Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.” Ántonia looked about, quite distracted. “Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the parlor, now tha... | redder than it was. Suddenly her eyes widened, her whole face seemed to grow broader. She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed. “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm. “No. I did n’t co... | Sally, like as if they’d grown up with you. I can’t think of what I want to say, you’ve got me so stirred up. And then, I’ve forgot my English so. I don’t often talk it any more. I tell the children I used to speak real well.” She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak English at all—d... | My Antonia |
“I can’t help it. You know I do. Maybe it’s because he came on Easter day, I don’t know. And he’s never out of mischief one minute!” | Antonia | up her head and laughed.<|quote|>“I can’t help it. You know I do. Maybe it’s because he came on Easter day, I don’t know. And he’s never out of mischief one minute!”</|quote|>I was thinking, as I | from the dishes. Ántonia threw up her head and laughed.<|quote|>“I can’t help it. You know I do. Maybe it’s because he came on Easter day, I don’t know. And he’s never out of mischief one minute!”</|quote|>I was thinking, as I watched her, how little it | too bad! Maybe you could take one of my bad ones, now? That Leo; he’s the worst of all.” She leaned toward me with a smile. “And I love him the best,” she whispered. “Mother!” the two girls murmured reproachfully from the dishes. Ántonia threw up her head and laughed.<|quote|>“I can’t help it. You know I do. Maybe it’... | as I used to, and I can do as much work. Oh, we don’t have to work so hard now! We’ve got plenty to help us, papa and me. And how many have you got, Jim?” When I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed. “Oh, ain’t that too bad! Maybe you could take one of my bad ones, now? That Leo; he’s the worst of all.” Sh... | more. I tell the children I used to speak real well.” She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak English at all—did n’t learn it until they went to school. “I can’t believe it’s you, sitting here, in my own kitchen. You would n’t have known me, would you, Jim? You’ve kept so young, you... | she tied round her mother’s waist. “Now, mother, sit down and talk to Mr. Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.” Ántonia looked about, quite distracted. “Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?” The daughter laughed indulgently, and too... | She caught her breath and put out two hard-worked hands. “Why, it’s Jim! Anna, Yulka, it’s Jim Burden!” She had no sooner caught my hands than she looked alarmed. “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm. “No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you a... | daughter, who had met me at the door, scattered them gently, and came bringing a white apron which she tied round her mother’s waist. “Now, mother, sit down and talk to Mr. Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.” Ántonia looked about, quite distracted. “Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into t... | My Antonia |
I was thinking, as I watched her, how little it mattered—about her teeth, for instance. I know so many women who have kept all the things that she had lost, but whose inner glow has faded. Whatever else was gone, Ántonia had not lost the fire of life. Her skin, so brown and hardened, had not that look of flabbiness, as... | No speaker | out of mischief one minute!”<|quote|>I was thinking, as I watched her, how little it mattered—about her teeth, for instance. I know so many women who have kept all the things that she had lost, but whose inner glow has faded. Whatever else was gone, Ántonia had not lost the fire of life. Her skin, so brown and hardened... | don’t know. And he’s never out of mischief one minute!”<|quote|>I was thinking, as I watched her, how little it mattered—about her teeth, for instance. I know so many women who have kept all the things that she had lost, but whose inner glow has faded. Whatever else was gone, Ántonia had not lost the fire of life. Her ... | I love him the best,” she whispered. “Mother!” the two girls murmured reproachfully from the dishes. Ántonia threw up her head and laughed. “I can’t help it. You know I do. Maybe it’s because he came on Easter day, I don’t know. And he’s never out of mischief one minute!”<|quote|>I was thinking, as I watched her, how ... | and me. And how many have you got, Jim?” When I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed. “Oh, ain’t that too bad! Maybe you could take one of my bad ones, now? That Leo; he’s the worst of all.” She leaned toward me with a smile. “And I love him the best,” she whispered. “Mother!” the two girls murmured reproa... | all—did n’t learn it until they went to school. “I can’t believe it’s you, sitting here, in my own kitchen. You would n’t have known me, would you, Jim? You’ve kept so young, yourself. But it’s easier for a man. I can’t see how my Anton looks any older than the day I married him. His teeth have kept so nice. I have n’t... | quite distracted. “Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?” The daughter laughed indulgently, and took my hat from me. “Well, you’re here, now, mother, and if you talk here, Yulka and I can listen, too. You can show him the parlor after while.” She smiled at ... | looked alarmed. “What’s happened? Is anybody dead?” I patted her arm. “No. I did n’t come to a funeral this time. I got off the train at Hastings and drove down to see you and your family.” She dropped my hand and began rushing about. “Anton, Yulka, Nina, where are you all? Run, Anna, and hunt for the boys. They’re off... | doll found a place on the bottom step of an enclosed back stairway, and sat with her toes curled up, looking out at us expectantly. “She’s Nina, after Nina Harling,” Ántonia explained. “Ain’t her eyes like Nina’s? I declare, Jim, I loved you children almost as much as I love my own. These children know all about you an... | My Antonia |
Anna said, as she passed us on her way to the cupboard. Ántonia beckoned the boy to her. He stood by her chair, leaning his elbows on her knees and twisting her apron strings in his slender fingers, while he told her his story softly in Bohemian, and the tears brimmed over and hung on his long lashes. His mother liste... | No speaker | mother. They found it dead,”<|quote|>Anna said, as she passed us on her way to the cupboard. Ántonia beckoned the boy to her. He stood by her chair, leaning his elbows on her knees and twisting her apron strings in his slender fingers, while he told her his story softly in Bohemian, and the tears brimmed over and hung... | tell you about the dog, mother. They found it dead,”<|quote|>Anna said, as she passed us on her way to the cupboard. Ántonia beckoned the boy to her. He stood by her chair, leaning his elbows on her knees and twisting her apron strings in his slender fingers, while he told her his story softly in Bohemian, and the tea... | He wore a funny long gingham apron, like a smock, over his trousers, and his hair was clipped so short that his head looked white and naked. He watched us out of his big, sorrowful gray eyes. “He wants to tell you about the dog, mother. They found it dead,”<|quote|>Anna said, as she passed us on her way to the cupboard... | Her skin, so brown and hardened, had not that look of flabbiness, as if the sap beneath it had been secretly drawn away. While we were talking, the little boy whom they called Jan came in and sat down on the step beside Nina, under the hood of the stairway. He wore a funny long gingham apron, like a smock, over his tro... | smile. “And I love him the best,” she whispered. “Mother!” the two girls murmured reproachfully from the dishes. Ántonia threw up her head and laughed. “I can’t help it. You know I do. Maybe it’s because he came on Easter day, I don’t know. And he’s never out of mischief one minute!” I was thinking, as I watched her, ... | of what I want to say, you’ve got me so stirred up. And then, I’ve forgot my English so. I don’t often talk it any more. I tell the children I used to speak real well.” She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak English at all—did n’t learn it until they went to school. “I can’t believ... | of time, the barefooted boys from outside were slipping into the kitchen and gathering about her. “Now, tell me their names, and how old they are.” As she told them off in turn, she made several mistakes about ages, and they roared with laughter. When she came to my light-footed friend of the windmill, she said, “This ... | to the dishes, with her sister. The little girl with the rag doll found a place on the bottom step of an enclosed back stairway, and sat with her toes curled up, looking out at us expectantly. “She’s Nina, after Nina Harling,” Ántonia explained. “Ain’t her eyes like Nina’s? I declare, Jim, I loved you children almost a... | My Antonia |
she asked. We started off across the yard with the children at our heels. The boys were standing by the windmill, talking about the dog; some of them ran ahead to open the cellar door. When we descended, they all came down after us, and seemed quite as proud of the cave as the girls were. Ambrosch, the thoughtful-look... | No speaker | Burden our new fruit cave?”<|quote|>she asked. We started off across the yard with the children at our heels. The boys were standing by the windmill, talking about the dog; some of them ran ahead to open the cellar door. When we descended, they all came down after us, and seemed quite as proud of the cave as the girls... | “Why don’t we show Mr. Burden our new fruit cave?”<|quote|>she asked. We started off across the yard with the children at our heels. The boys were standing by the windmill, talking about the dog; some of them ran ahead to open the cellar door. When we descended, they all came down after us, and seemed quite as proud o... | a quick, teary smile. He slipped away and whispered his secret to Nina, sitting close to her and talking behind his hand. When Anna finished her work and had washed her hands, she came and stood behind her mother’s chair. “Why don’t we show Mr. Burden our new fruit cave?”<|quote|>she asked. We started off across the y... | her knees and twisting her apron strings in his slender fingers, while he told her his story softly in Bohemian, and the tears brimmed over and hung on his long lashes. His mother listened, spoke soothingly to him, and in a whisper promised him something that made him give her a quick, teary smile. He slipped away and ... | the little boy whom they called Jan came in and sat down on the step beside Nina, under the hood of the stairway. He wore a funny long gingham apron, like a smock, over his trousers, and his hair was clipped so short that his head looked white and naked. He watched us out of his big, sorrowful gray eyes. “He wants to t... | used to, and I can do as much work. Oh, we don’t have to work so hard now! We’ve got plenty to help us, papa and me. And how many have you got, Jim?” When I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed. “Oh, ain’t that too bad! Maybe you could take one of my bad ones, now? That Leo; he’s the worst of all.” She lea... | watching him. “Well, how old are you?” “I’m twelve,” he panted, looking not at me but at her; “I’m twelve years old, and I was born on Easter day!” She nodded to me. “It’s true. He was an Easter baby.” The children all looked at me, as if they expected me to exhibit astonishment or delight at this information. Clearly,... | the two girls murmured reproachfully from the dishes. Ántonia threw up her head and laughed. “I can’t help it. You know I do. Maybe it’s because he came on Easter day, I don’t know. And he’s never out of mischief one minute!” I was thinking, as I watched her, how little it mattered—about her teeth, for instance. I kno... | My Antonia |
“Yes, it is a good way from the house,” | One of Antonia's children | walls and the cement floor.<|quote|>“Yes, it is a good way from the house,”</|quote|>he admitted. “But, you see, | attention to the stout brick walls and the cement floor.<|quote|>“Yes, it is a good way from the house,”</|quote|>he admitted. “But, you see, in winter there are nearly | open the cellar door. When we descended, they all came down after us, and seemed quite as proud of the cave as the girls were. Ambrosch, the thoughtful-looking one who had directed me down by the plum bushes, called my attention to the stout brick walls and the cement floor.<|quote|>“Yes, it is a good way from the hous... | hands, she came and stood behind her mother’s chair. “Why don’t we show Mr. Burden our new fruit cave?” she asked. We started off across the yard with the children at our heels. The boys were standing by the windmill, talking about the dog; some of them ran ahead to open the cellar door. When we descended, they all ca... | way to the cupboard. Ántonia beckoned the boy to her. He stood by her chair, leaning his elbows on her knees and twisting her apron strings in his slender fingers, while he told her his story softly in Bohemian, and the tears brimmed over and hung on his long lashes. His mother listened, spoke soothingly to him, and in... | whispered. “Mother!” the two girls murmured reproachfully from the dishes. Ántonia threw up her head and laughed. “I can’t help it. You know I do. Maybe it’s because he came on Easter day, I don’t know. And he’s never out of mischief one minute!” I was thinking, as I watched her, how little it mattered—about her teeth... | who had met me at the door, scattered them gently, and came bringing a white apron which she tied round her mother’s waist. “Now, mother, sit down and talk to Mr. Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.” Ántonia looked about, quite distracted. “Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the parlor,... | But it’s easier for a man. I can’t see how my Anton looks any older than the day I married him. His teeth have kept so nice. I have n’t got many left. But I feel just as young as I used to, and I can do as much work. Oh, we don’t have to work so hard now! We’ve got plenty to help us, papa and me. And how many have you ... | My Antonia |
he admitted. | No speaker | good way from the house,”<|quote|>he admitted.</|quote|>“But, you see, in winter | floor. “Yes, it is a good way from the house,”<|quote|>he admitted.</|quote|>“But, you see, in winter there are nearly always some | came down after us, and seemed quite as proud of the cave as the girls were. Ambrosch, the thoughtful-looking one who had directed me down by the plum bushes, called my attention to the stout brick walls and the cement floor. “Yes, it is a good way from the house,”<|quote|>he admitted.</|quote|>“But, you see, in winter... | “Why don’t we show Mr. Burden our new fruit cave?” she asked. We started off across the yard with the children at our heels. The boys were standing by the windmill, talking about the dog; some of them ran ahead to open the cellar door. When we descended, they all came down after us, and seemed quite as proud of the ca... | her. He stood by her chair, leaning his elbows on her knees and twisting her apron strings in his slender fingers, while he told her his story softly in Bohemian, and the tears brimmed over and hung on his long lashes. His mother listened, spoke soothingly to him, and in a whisper promised him something that made him g... | dishes. Ántonia threw up her head and laughed. “I can’t help it. You know I do. Maybe it’s because he came on Easter day, I don’t know. And he’s never out of mischief one minute!” I was thinking, as I watched her, how little it mattered—about her teeth, for instance. I know so many women who have kept all the things th... | gently, and came bringing a white apron which she tied round her mother’s waist. “Now, mother, sit down and talk to Mr. Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.” Ántonia looked about, quite distracted. “Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for compa... | not lost the fire of life. Her skin, so brown and hardened, had not that look of flabbiness, as if the sap beneath it had been secretly drawn away. While we were talking, the little boy whom they called Jan came in and sat down on the step beside Nina, under the hood of the stairway. He wore a funny long gingham apron,... | My Antonia |
“But, you see, in winter there are nearly always some of us around to come out and get things.” | One of Antonia's children | from the house,” he admitted.<|quote|>“But, you see, in winter there are nearly always some of us around to come out and get things.”</|quote|>Anna and Yulka showed me | it is a good way from the house,” he admitted.<|quote|>“But, you see, in winter there are nearly always some of us around to come out and get things.”</|quote|>Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full | after us, and seemed quite as proud of the cave as the girls were. Ambrosch, the thoughtful-looking one who had directed me down by the plum bushes, called my attention to the stout brick walls and the cement floor. “Yes, it is a good way from the house,” he admitted.<|quote|>“But, you see, in winter there are nearly a... | we show Mr. Burden our new fruit cave?” she asked. We started off across the yard with the children at our heels. The boys were standing by the windmill, talking about the dog; some of them ran ahead to open the cellar door. When we descended, they all came down after us, and seemed quite as proud of the cave as the g... | stood by her chair, leaning his elbows on her knees and twisting her apron strings in his slender fingers, while he told her his story softly in Bohemian, and the tears brimmed over and hung on his long lashes. His mother listened, spoke soothingly to him, and in a whisper promised him something that made him give her ... | threw up her head and laughed. “I can’t help it. You know I do. Maybe it’s because he came on Easter day, I don’t know. And he’s never out of mischief one minute!” I was thinking, as I watched her, how little it mattered—about her teeth, for instance. I know so many women who have kept all the things that she had lost,... | came bringing a white apron which she tied round her mother’s waist. “Now, mother, sit down and talk to Mr. Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.” Ántonia looked about, quite distracted. “Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?” The dau... | said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak English at all—did n’t learn it until they went to school. “I can’t believe it’s you, sitting here, in my own kitchen. You would n’t have known me, would you, Jim? You’ve kept so young, yourself. But it’s easier for a man. I can’t see how my Anton... | My Antonia |
Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds. | No speaker | come out and get things.”<|quote|>Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds.</|quote|>“You would n’t believe, Jim, | some of us around to come out and get things.”<|quote|>Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds.</|quote|>“You would n’t believe, Jim, what it takes to feed | had directed me down by the plum bushes, called my attention to the stout brick walls and the cement floor. “Yes, it is a good way from the house,” he admitted. “But, you see, in winter there are nearly always some of us around to come out and get things.”<|quote|>Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full ... | at our heels. The boys were standing by the windmill, talking about the dog; some of them ran ahead to open the cellar door. When we descended, they all came down after us, and seemed quite as proud of the cave as the girls were. Ambrosch, the thoughtful-looking one who had directed me down by the plum bushes, called m... | while he told her his story softly in Bohemian, and the tears brimmed over and hung on his long lashes. His mother listened, spoke soothingly to him, and in a whisper promised him something that made him give her a quick, teary smile. He slipped away and whispered his secret to Nina, sitting close to her and talking be... | on Easter day, I don’t know. And he’s never out of mischief one minute!” I was thinking, as I watched her, how little it mattered—about her teeth, for instance. I know so many women who have kept all the things that she had lost, but whose inner glow has faded. Whatever else was gone, Ántonia had not lost the fire of l... | Mr. Burden. We’ll finish the dishes quietly and not disturb you.” Ántonia looked about, quite distracted. “Yes, child, but why don’t we take him into the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?” The daughter laughed indulgently, and took my hat from me. “Well, you’re here, now, mother, and if you talk her... | that look of flabbiness, as if the sap beneath it had been secretly drawn away. While we were talking, the little boy whom they called Jan came in and sat down on the step beside Nina, under the hood of the stairway. He wore a funny long gingham apron, like a smock, over his trousers, and his hair was clipped so short ... | My Antonia |
“You would n’t believe, Jim, what it takes to feed them all!” | Antonia | full of pickled watermelon rinds.<|quote|>“You would n’t believe, Jim, what it takes to feed them all!”</|quote|>their mother exclaimed. “You ought | of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds.<|quote|>“You would n’t believe, Jim, what it takes to feed them all!”</|quote|>their mother exclaimed. “You ought to see the bread we | way from the house,” he admitted. “But, you see, in winter there are nearly always some of us around to come out and get things.” Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds.<|quote|>“You would n’t believe, Jim, what it ta... | we descended, they all came down after us, and seemed quite as proud of the cave as the girls were. Ambrosch, the thoughtful-looking one who had directed me down by the plum bushes, called my attention to the stout brick walls and the cement floor. “Yes, it is a good way from the house,” he admitted. “But, you see, in ... | to him, and in a whisper promised him something that made him give her a quick, teary smile. He slipped away and whispered his secret to Nina, sitting close to her and talking behind his hand. When Anna finished her work and had washed her hands, she came and stood behind her mother’s chair. “Why don’t we show Mr. Burd... | her teeth, for instance. I know so many women who have kept all the things that she had lost, but whose inner glow has faded. Whatever else was gone, Ántonia had not lost the fire of life. Her skin, so brown and hardened, had not that look of flabbiness, as if the sap beneath it had been secretly drawn away. While we w... | the parlor, now that we’ve got a nice parlor for company?” The daughter laughed indulgently, and took my hat from me. “Well, you’re here, now, mother, and if you talk here, Yulka and I can listen, too. You can show him the parlor after while.” She smiled at me, and went back to the dishes, with her sister. The little g... | bad ones, now? That Leo; he’s the worst of all.” She leaned toward me with a smile. “And I love him the best,” she whispered. “Mother!” the two girls murmured reproachfully from the dishes. Ántonia threw up her head and laughed. “I can’t help it. You know I do. Maybe it’s because he came on Easter day, I don’t know. A... | My Antonia |
their mother exclaimed. | No speaker | takes to feed them all!”<|quote|>their mother exclaimed.</|quote|>“You ought to see the | n’t believe, Jim, what it takes to feed them all!”<|quote|>their mother exclaimed.</|quote|>“You ought to see the bread we bake on Wednesdays | are nearly always some of us around to come out and get things.” Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds. “You would n’t believe, Jim, what it takes to feed them all!”<|quote|>their mother exclaimed.</|quote|>“You ough... | proud of the cave as the girls were. Ambrosch, the thoughtful-looking one who had directed me down by the plum bushes, called my attention to the stout brick walls and the cement floor. “Yes, it is a good way from the house,” he admitted. “But, you see, in winter there are nearly always some of us around to come out an... | give her a quick, teary smile. He slipped away and whispered his secret to Nina, sitting close to her and talking behind his hand. When Anna finished her work and had washed her hands, she came and stood behind her mother’s chair. “Why don’t we show Mr. Burden our new fruit cave?” she asked. We started off across the ... | all the things that she had lost, but whose inner glow has faded. Whatever else was gone, Ántonia had not lost the fire of life. Her skin, so brown and hardened, had not that look of flabbiness, as if the sap beneath it had been secretly drawn away. While we were talking, the little boy whom they called Jan came in and... | daughter laughed indulgently, and took my hat from me. “Well, you’re here, now, mother, and if you talk here, Yulka and I can listen, too. You can show him the parlor after while.” She smiled at me, and went back to the dishes, with her sister. The little girl with the rag doll found a place on the bottom step of an en... | his long lashes. His mother listened, spoke soothingly to him, and in a whisper promised him something that made him give her a quick, teary smile. He slipped away and whispered his secret to Nina, sitting close to her and talking behind his hand. When Anna finished her work and had washed her hands, she came and stood... | My Antonia |
“You ought to see the bread we bake on Wednesdays and Saturdays! It’s no wonder their poor papa can’t get rich, he has to buy so much sugar for us to preserve with. We have our own wheat ground for flour,—but then there’s that much less to sell.” | Antonia | them all!” their mother exclaimed.<|quote|>“You ought to see the bread we bake on Wednesdays and Saturdays! It’s no wonder their poor papa can’t get rich, he has to buy so much sugar for us to preserve with. We have our own wheat ground for flour,—but then there’s that much less to sell.”</|quote|>Nina and Jan, and a | what it takes to feed them all!” their mother exclaimed.<|quote|>“You ought to see the bread we bake on Wednesdays and Saturdays! It’s no wonder their poor papa can’t get rich, he has to buy so much sugar for us to preserve with. We have our own wheat ground for flour,—but then there’s that much less to sell.”</|quote|... | some of us around to come out and get things.” Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds. “You would n’t believe, Jim, what it takes to feed them all!” their mother exclaimed.<|quote|>“You ought to see the bread we bake ... | cave as the girls were. Ambrosch, the thoughtful-looking one who had directed me down by the plum bushes, called my attention to the stout brick walls and the cement floor. “Yes, it is a good way from the house,” he admitted. “But, you see, in winter there are nearly always some of us around to come out and get things.... | quick, teary smile. He slipped away and whispered his secret to Nina, sitting close to her and talking behind his hand. When Anna finished her work and had washed her hands, she came and stood behind her mother’s chair. “Why don’t we show Mr. Burden our new fruit cave?” she asked. We started off across the yard with t... | that she had lost, but whose inner glow has faded. Whatever else was gone, Ántonia had not lost the fire of life. Her skin, so brown and hardened, had not that look of flabbiness, as if the sap beneath it had been secretly drawn away. While we were talking, the little boy whom they called Jan came in and sat down on th... | and took my hat from me. “Well, you’re here, now, mother, and if you talk here, Yulka and I can listen, too. You can show him the parlor after while.” She smiled at me, and went back to the dishes, with her sister. The little girl with the rag doll found a place on the bottom step of an enclosed back stairway, and sat ... | can do as much work. Oh, we don’t have to work so hard now! We’ve got plenty to help us, papa and me. And how many have you got, Jim?” When I told her I had no children she seemed embarrassed. “Oh, ain’t that too bad! Maybe you could take one of my bad ones, now? That Leo; he’s the worst of all.” She leaned toward me w... | My Antonia |
Nina and Jan, and a little girl named Lucie, kept shyly pointing out to me the shelves of glass jars. They said nothing, but glancing at me, traced on the glass with their finger-tips the outline of the cherries and strawberries and crab-apples within, trying by a blissful expression of countenance to give me some idea... | No speaker | that much less to sell.”<|quote|>Nina and Jan, and a little girl named Lucie, kept shyly pointing out to me the shelves of glass jars. They said nothing, but glancing at me, traced on the glass with their finger-tips the outline of the cherries and strawberries and crab-apples within, trying by a blissful expression of... | ground for flour,—but then there’s that much less to sell.”<|quote|>Nina and Jan, and a little girl named Lucie, kept shyly pointing out to me the shelves of glass jars. They said nothing, but glancing at me, traced on the glass with their finger-tips the outline of the cherries and strawberries and crab-apples within,... | mother exclaimed. “You ought to see the bread we bake on Wednesdays and Saturdays! It’s no wonder their poor papa can’t get rich, he has to buy so much sugar for us to preserve with. We have our own wheat ground for flour,—but then there’s that much less to sell.”<|quote|>Nina and Jan, and a little girl named Lucie, ke... | nearly always some of us around to come out and get things.” Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds. “You would n’t believe, Jim, what it takes to feed them all!” their mother exclaimed. “You ought to see the bread we... | cave?” she asked. We started off across the yard with the children at our heels. The boys were standing by the windmill, talking about the dog; some of them ran ahead to open the cellar door. When we descended, they all came down after us, and seemed quite as proud of the cave as the girls were. Ambrosch, the thoughtf... | talking, the little boy whom they called Jan came in and sat down on the step beside Nina, under the hood of the stairway. He wore a funny long gingham apron, like a smock, over his trousers, and his hair was clipped so short that his head looked white and naked. He watched us out of his big, sorrowful gray eyes. “He w... | rag doll found a place on the bottom step of an enclosed back stairway, and sat with her toes curled up, looking out at us expectantly. “She’s Nina, after Nina Harling,” Ántonia explained. “Ain’t her eyes like Nina’s? I declare, Jim, I loved you children almost as much as I love my own. These children know all about yo... | from the dishes. Ántonia threw up her head and laughed. “I can’t help it. You know I do. Maybe it’s because he came on Easter day, I don’t know. And he’s never out of mischief one minute!” I was thinking, as I watched her, how little it mattered—about her teeth, for instance. I know so many women who have kept all the ... | My Antonia |
“Show him the spiced plums, mother. Americans don’t have those,” | One of Antonia's children | some idea of their deliciousness.<|quote|>“Show him the spiced plums, mother. Americans don’t have those,”</|quote|>said one of the older | of countenance to give me some idea of their deliciousness.<|quote|>“Show him the spiced plums, mother. Americans don’t have those,”</|quote|>said one of the older boys. “Mother uses them to | kept shyly pointing out to me the shelves of glass jars. They said nothing, but glancing at me, traced on the glass with their finger-tips the outline of the cherries and strawberries and crab-apples within, trying by a blissful expression of countenance to give me some idea of their deliciousness.<|quote|>“Show him th... | bake on Wednesdays and Saturdays! It’s no wonder their poor papa can’t get rich, he has to buy so much sugar for us to preserve with. We have our own wheat ground for flour,—but then there’s that much less to sell.” Nina and Jan, and a little girl named Lucie, kept shyly pointing out to me the shelves of glass jars. Th... | thoughtful-looking one who had directed me down by the plum bushes, called my attention to the stout brick walls and the cement floor. “Yes, it is a good way from the house,” he admitted. “But, you see, in winter there are nearly always some of us around to come out and get things.” Anna and Yulka showed me three small... | gray eyes. “He wants to tell you about the dog, mother. They found it dead,” Anna said, as she passed us on her way to the cupboard. Ántonia beckoned the boy to her. He stood by her chair, leaning his elbows on her knees and twisting her apron strings in his slender fingers, while he told her his story softly in Bohem... | and Charley and Sally, like as if they’d grown up with you. I can’t think of what I want to say, you’ve got me so stirred up. And then, I’ve forgot my English so. I don’t often talk it any more. I tell the children I used to speak real well.” She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak ... | and laughed. “I can’t help it. You know I do. Maybe it’s because he came on Easter day, I don’t know. And he’s never out of mischief one minute!” I was thinking, as I watched her, how little it mattered—about her teeth, for instance. I know so many women who have kept all the things that she had lost, but whose inner g... | My Antonia |
said one of the older boys. | No speaker | mother. Americans don’t have those,”<|quote|>said one of the older boys.</|quote|>“Mother uses them to make | “Show him the spiced plums, mother. Americans don’t have those,”<|quote|>said one of the older boys.</|quote|>“Mother uses them to make kolaches,” he added. Leo, in | jars. They said nothing, but glancing at me, traced on the glass with their finger-tips the outline of the cherries and strawberries and crab-apples within, trying by a blissful expression of countenance to give me some idea of their deliciousness. “Show him the spiced plums, mother. Americans don’t have those,”<|quote... | papa can’t get rich, he has to buy so much sugar for us to preserve with. We have our own wheat ground for flour,—but then there’s that much less to sell.” Nina and Jan, and a little girl named Lucie, kept shyly pointing out to me the shelves of glass jars. They said nothing, but glancing at me, traced on the glass wit... | bushes, called my attention to the stout brick walls and the cement floor. “Yes, it is a good way from the house,” he admitted. “But, you see, in winter there are nearly always some of us around to come out and get things.” Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pick... | mother. They found it dead,” Anna said, as she passed us on her way to the cupboard. Ántonia beckoned the boy to her. He stood by her chair, leaning his elbows on her knees and twisting her apron strings in his slender fingers, while he told her his story softly in Bohemian, and the tears brimmed over and hung on his ... | with you. I can’t think of what I want to say, you’ve got me so stirred up. And then, I’ve forgot my English so. I don’t often talk it any more. I tell the children I used to speak real well.” She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak English at all—did n’t learn it until they went to... | hardened, had not that look of flabbiness, as if the sap beneath it had been secretly drawn away. While we were talking, the little boy whom they called Jan came in and sat down on the step beside Nina, under the hood of the stairway. He wore a funny long gingham apron, like a smock, over his trousers, and his hair was... | My Antonia |
“Mother uses them to make kolaches,” | One of Antonia's children | one of the older boys.<|quote|>“Mother uses them to make kolaches,”</|quote|>he added. Leo, in a | Americans don’t have those,” said one of the older boys.<|quote|>“Mother uses them to make kolaches,”</|quote|>he added. Leo, in a low voice, tossed off some | at me, traced on the glass with their finger-tips the outline of the cherries and strawberries and crab-apples within, trying by a blissful expression of countenance to give me some idea of their deliciousness. “Show him the spiced plums, mother. Americans don’t have those,” said one of the older boys.<|quote|>“Mother ... | to buy so much sugar for us to preserve with. We have our own wheat ground for flour,—but then there’s that much less to sell.” Nina and Jan, and a little girl named Lucie, kept shyly pointing out to me the shelves of glass jars. They said nothing, but glancing at me, traced on the glass with their finger-tips the outl... | stout brick walls and the cement floor. “Yes, it is a good way from the house,” he admitted. “But, you see, in winter there are nearly always some of us around to come out and get things.” Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled waterm... | said, as she passed us on her way to the cupboard. Ántonia beckoned the boy to her. He stood by her chair, leaning his elbows on her knees and twisting her apron strings in his slender fingers, while he told her his story softly in Bohemian, and the tears brimmed over and hung on his long lashes. His mother listened, s... | what I want to say, you’ve got me so stirred up. And then, I’ve forgot my English so. I don’t often talk it any more. I tell the children I used to speak real well.” She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak English at all—did n’t learn it until they went to school. “I can’t believe i... | Easter day, I don’t know. And he’s never out of mischief one minute!” I was thinking, as I watched her, how little it mattered—about her teeth, for instance. I know so many women who have kept all the things that she had lost, but whose inner glow has faded. Whatever else was gone, Ántonia had not lost the fire of life... | My Antonia |
he added. Leo, in a low voice, tossed off some scornful remark in Bohemian. I turned to him. | No speaker | uses them to make kolaches,”<|quote|>he added. Leo, in a low voice, tossed off some scornful remark in Bohemian. I turned to him.</|quote|>“You think I don’t know | of the older boys. “Mother uses them to make kolaches,”<|quote|>he added. Leo, in a low voice, tossed off some scornful remark in Bohemian. I turned to him.</|quote|>“You think I don’t know what kolaches are, eh? You’re | with their finger-tips the outline of the cherries and strawberries and crab-apples within, trying by a blissful expression of countenance to give me some idea of their deliciousness. “Show him the spiced plums, mother. Americans don’t have those,” said one of the older boys. “Mother uses them to make kolaches,”<|quote... | us to preserve with. We have our own wheat ground for flour,—but then there’s that much less to sell.” Nina and Jan, and a little girl named Lucie, kept shyly pointing out to me the shelves of glass jars. They said nothing, but glancing at me, traced on the glass with their finger-tips the outline of the cherries and s... | floor. “Yes, it is a good way from the house,” he admitted. “But, you see, in winter there are nearly always some of us around to come out and get things.” Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds. “You would n’t believ... | her way to the cupboard. Ántonia beckoned the boy to her. He stood by her chair, leaning his elbows on her knees and twisting her apron strings in his slender fingers, while he told her his story softly in Bohemian, and the tears brimmed over and hung on his long lashes. His mother listened, spoke soothingly to him, an... | got me so stirred up. And then, I’ve forgot my English so. I don’t often talk it any more. I tell the children I used to speak real well.” She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak English at all—did n’t learn it until they went to school. “I can’t believe it’s you, sitting here, in m... | one minute!” I was thinking, as I watched her, how little it mattered—about her teeth, for instance. I know so many women who have kept all the things that she had lost, but whose inner glow has faded. Whatever else was gone, Ántonia had not lost the fire of life. Her skin, so brown and hardened, had not that look of f... | My Antonia |
“You think I don’t know what kolaches are, eh? You’re mistaken, young man. I’ve eaten your mother’s kolaches long before that Easter day when you were born.” | Jim | Bohemian. I turned to him.<|quote|>“You think I don’t know what kolaches are, eh? You’re mistaken, young man. I’ve eaten your mother’s kolaches long before that Easter day when you were born.”</|quote|>“Always too fresh, Leo,” Ambrosch | off some scornful remark in Bohemian. I turned to him.<|quote|>“You think I don’t know what kolaches are, eh? You’re mistaken, young man. I’ve eaten your mother’s kolaches long before that Easter day when you were born.”</|quote|>“Always too fresh, Leo,” Ambrosch remarked with a shrug. Leo | of countenance to give me some idea of their deliciousness. “Show him the spiced plums, mother. Americans don’t have those,” said one of the older boys. “Mother uses them to make kolaches,” he added. Leo, in a low voice, tossed off some scornful remark in Bohemian. I turned to him.<|quote|>“You think I don’t know wha... | sell.” Nina and Jan, and a little girl named Lucie, kept shyly pointing out to me the shelves of glass jars. They said nothing, but glancing at me, traced on the glass with their finger-tips the outline of the cherries and strawberries and crab-apples within, trying by a blissful expression of countenance to give me so... | are nearly always some of us around to come out and get things.” Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds. “You would n’t believe, Jim, what it takes to feed them all!” their mother exclaimed. “You ought to see the brea... | elbows on her knees and twisting her apron strings in his slender fingers, while he told her his story softly in Bohemian, and the tears brimmed over and hung on his long lashes. His mother listened, spoke soothingly to him, and in a whisper promised him something that made him give her a quick, teary smile. He slipped... | more. I tell the children I used to speak real well.” She said they always spoke Bohemian at home. The little ones could not speak English at all—did n’t learn it until they went to school. “I can’t believe it’s you, sitting here, in my own kitchen. You would n’t have known me, would you, Jim? You’ve kept so young, you... | as if the sap beneath it had been secretly drawn away. While we were talking, the little boy whom they called Jan came in and sat down on the step beside Nina, under the hood of the stairway. He wore a funny long gingham apron, like a smock, over his trousers, and his hair was clipped so short that his head looked whit... | My Antonia |
“Always too fresh, Leo,” | One of Antonia's children | day when you were born.”<|quote|>“Always too fresh, Leo,”</|quote|>Ambrosch remarked with a shrug. | kolaches long before that Easter day when you were born.”<|quote|>“Always too fresh, Leo,”</|quote|>Ambrosch remarked with a shrug. Leo dived behind his mother | uses them to make kolaches,” he added. Leo, in a low voice, tossed off some scornful remark in Bohemian. I turned to him. “You think I don’t know what kolaches are, eh? You’re mistaken, young man. I’ve eaten your mother’s kolaches long before that Easter day when you were born.”<|quote|>“Always too fresh, Leo,”</|quo... | me, traced on the glass with their finger-tips the outline of the cherries and strawberries and crab-apples within, trying by a blissful expression of countenance to give me some idea of their deliciousness. “Show him the spiced plums, mother. Americans don’t have those,” said one of the older boys. “Mother uses them t... | full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds. “You would n’t believe, Jim, what it takes to feed them all!” their mother exclaimed. “You ought to see the bread we bake on Wednesdays and Saturdays! It’s no wonder their poor papa can’t get rich, he has to buy so much sugar for us to preserve with. We... | and hung on his long lashes. His mother listened, spoke soothingly to him, and in a whisper promised him something that made him give her a quick, teary smile. He slipped away and whispered his secret to Nina, sitting close to her and talking behind his hand. When Anna finished her work and had washed her hands, she ca... | all—did n’t learn it until they went to school. “I can’t believe it’s you, sitting here, in my own kitchen. You would n’t have known me, would you, Jim? You’ve kept so young, yourself. But it’s easier for a man. I can’t see how my Anton looks any older than the day I married him. His teeth have kept so nice. I have n’t... | hand. When Anna finished her work and had washed her hands, she came and stood behind her mother’s chair. “Why don’t we show Mr. Burden our new fruit cave?” she asked. We started off across the yard with the children at our heels. The boys were standing by the windmill, talking about the dog; some of them ran ahead to... | My Antonia |
Ambrosch remarked with a shrug. Leo dived behind his mother and grinned out at me. We turned to leave the cave; Ántonia and I went up the stairs first, and the children waited. We were standing outside talking, when they all came running up the steps together, big and little, tow heads and gold heads and brown, and f... | No speaker | born.” “Always too fresh, Leo,”<|quote|>Ambrosch remarked with a shrug. Leo dived behind his mother and grinned out at me. We turned to leave the cave; Ántonia and I went up the stairs first, and the children waited. We were standing outside talking, when they all came running up the steps together, big and little, t... | Easter day when you were born.” “Always too fresh, Leo,”<|quote|>Ambrosch remarked with a shrug. Leo dived behind his mother and grinned out at me. We turned to leave the cave; Ántonia and I went up the stairs first, and the children waited. We were standing outside talking, when they all came running up the steps to... | kolaches,” he added. Leo, in a low voice, tossed off some scornful remark in Bohemian. I turned to him. “You think I don’t know what kolaches are, eh? You’re mistaken, young man. I’ve eaten your mother’s kolaches long before that Easter day when you were born.” “Always too fresh, Leo,”<|quote|>Ambrosch remarked with ... | glass with their finger-tips the outline of the cherries and strawberries and crab-apples within, trying by a blissful expression of countenance to give me some idea of their deliciousness. “Show him the spiced plums, mother. Americans don’t have those,” said one of the older boys. “Mother uses them to make kolaches,” ... | and one full of pickled watermelon rinds. “You would n’t believe, Jim, what it takes to feed them all!” their mother exclaimed. “You ought to see the bread we bake on Wednesdays and Saturdays! It’s no wonder their poor papa can’t get rich, he has to buy so much sugar for us to preserve with. We have our own wheat groun... | long lashes. His mother listened, spoke soothingly to him, and in a whisper promised him something that made him give her a quick, teary smile. He slipped away and whispered his secret to Nina, sitting close to her and talking behind his hand. When Anna finished her work and had washed her hands, she came and stood beh... | until they went to school. “I can’t believe it’s you, sitting here, in my own kitchen. You would n’t have known me, would you, Jim? You’ve kept so young, yourself. But it’s easier for a man. I can’t see how my Anton looks any older than the day I married him. His teeth have kept so nice. I have n’t got many left. But I... | something that made him give her a quick, teary smile. He slipped away and whispered his secret to Nina, sitting close to her and talking behind his hand. When Anna finished her work and had washed her hands, she came and stood behind her mother’s chair. “Why don’t we show Mr. Burden our new fruit cave?” she asked. We... | My Antonia |
“I love them as if they were people,” | Antonia | about one tree and another.<|quote|>“I love them as if they were people,”</|quote|>she said, rubbing her hand | kept stopping to tell me about one tree and another.<|quote|>“I love them as if they were people,”</|quote|>she said, rubbing her hand over the bark. “There was | we reached the hedge, but Jan and Nina and Lucie crept through it by a hole known only to themselves and hid under the low-branching mulberry bushes. As we walked through the apple orchard, grown up in tall bluegrass, Ántonia kept stopping to tell me about one tree and another.<|quote|>“I love them as if they were peop... | told me was a rye-field in summer. At some distance behind the house were an ash grove and two orchards; a cherry orchard, with gooseberry and currant bushes between the rows, and an apple orchard, sheltered by a high hedge from the hot winds. The older children turned back when we reached the hedge, but Jan and Nina a... | had n’t yet seen; in farmhouses, somehow, life comes and goes by the back door. The roof was so steep that the eaves were not much above the forest of tall hollyhocks, now brown and in seed. Through July, Ántonia said, the house was buried in them; the Bohemians, I remembered, always planted hollyhocks. The front yard ... | glancing at me, traced on the glass with their finger-tips the outline of the cherries and strawberries and crab-apples within, trying by a blissful expression of countenance to give me some idea of their deliciousness. “Show him the spiced plums, mother. Americans don’t have those,” said one of the older boys. “Mother... | He wore a funny long gingham apron, like a smock, over his trousers, and his hair was clipped so short that his head looked white and naked. He watched us out of his big, sorrowful gray eyes. “He wants to tell you about the dog, mother. They found it dead,” Anna said, as she passed us on her way to the cupboard. Ánton... | come out and get things.” Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds. “You would n’t believe, Jim, what it takes to feed them all!” their mother exclaimed. “You ought to see the bread we bake on Wednesdays and Saturdays! ... | My Antonia |
she said, rubbing her hand over the bark. | No speaker | as if they were people,”<|quote|>she said, rubbing her hand over the bark.</|quote|>“There was n’t a tree | and another. “I love them as if they were people,”<|quote|>she said, rubbing her hand over the bark.</|quote|>“There was n’t a tree here when we first came. | and Lucie crept through it by a hole known only to themselves and hid under the low-branching mulberry bushes. As we walked through the apple orchard, grown up in tall bluegrass, Ántonia kept stopping to tell me about one tree and another. “I love them as if they were people,”<|quote|>she said, rubbing her hand over th... | some distance behind the house were an ash grove and two orchards; a cherry orchard, with gooseberry and currant bushes between the rows, and an apple orchard, sheltered by a high hedge from the hot winds. The older children turned back when we reached the hedge, but Jan and Nina and Lucie crept through it by a hole kn... | comes and goes by the back door. The roof was so steep that the eaves were not much above the forest of tall hollyhocks, now brown and in seed. Through July, Ántonia said, the house was buried in them; the Bohemians, I remembered, always planted hollyhocks. The front yard was enclosed by a thorny locust hedge, and at t... | their finger-tips the outline of the cherries and strawberries and crab-apples within, trying by a blissful expression of countenance to give me some idea of their deliciousness. “Show him the spiced plums, mother. Americans don’t have those,” said one of the older boys. “Mother uses them to make kolaches,” he added. ... | a smock, over his trousers, and his hair was clipped so short that his head looked white and naked. He watched us out of his big, sorrowful gray eyes. “He wants to tell you about the dog, mother. They found it dead,” Anna said, as she passed us on her way to the cupboard. Ántonia beckoned the boy to her. He stood by h... | our own wheat ground for flour,—but then there’s that much less to sell.” Nina and Jan, and a little girl named Lucie, kept shyly pointing out to me the shelves of glass jars. They said nothing, but glancing at me, traced on the glass with their finger-tips the outline of the cherries and strawberries and crab-apples w... | My Antonia |
“There was n’t a tree here when we first came. We planted every one, and used to carry water for them, too—after we’d been working in the fields all day. Anton, he was a city man, and he used to get discouraged. But I could n’t feel so tired that I would n’t fret about these trees when there was a dry time. They were o... | Antonia | her hand over the bark.<|quote|>“There was n’t a tree here when we first came. We planted every one, and used to carry water for them, too—after we’d been working in the fields all day. Anton, he was a city man, and he used to get discouraged. But I could n’t feel so tired that I would n’t fret about these trees when t... | were people,” she said, rubbing her hand over the bark.<|quote|>“There was n’t a tree here when we first came. We planted every one, and used to carry water for them, too—after we’d been working in the fields all day. Anton, he was a city man, and he used to get discouraged. But I could n’t feel so tired that I would n... | known only to themselves and hid under the low-branching mulberry bushes. As we walked through the apple orchard, grown up in tall bluegrass, Ántonia kept stopping to tell me about one tree and another. “I love them as if they were people,” she said, rubbing her hand over the bark.<|quote|>“There was n’t a tree here wh... | grove and two orchards; a cherry orchard, with gooseberry and currant bushes between the rows, and an apple orchard, sheltered by a high hedge from the hot winds. The older children turned back when we reached the hedge, but Jan and Nina and Lucie crept through it by a hole known only to themselves and hid under the lo... | roof was so steep that the eaves were not much above the forest of tall hollyhocks, now brown and in seed. Through July, Ántonia said, the house was buried in them; the Bohemians, I remembered, always planted hollyhocks. The front yard was enclosed by a thorny locust hedge, and at the gate grew two silvery, moth-like t... | strawberries and crab-apples within, trying by a blissful expression of countenance to give me some idea of their deliciousness. “Show him the spiced plums, mother. Americans don’t have those,” said one of the older boys. “Mother uses them to make kolaches,” he added. Leo, in a low voice, tossed off some scornful rema... | was clipped so short that his head looked white and naked. He watched us out of his big, sorrowful gray eyes. “He wants to tell you about the dog, mother. They found it dead,” Anna said, as she passed us on her way to the cupboard. Ántonia beckoned the boy to her. He stood by her chair, leaning his elbows on her knees... | We turned to leave the cave; Ántonia and I went up the stairs first, and the children waited. We were standing outside talking, when they all came running up the steps together, big and little, tow heads and gold heads and brown, and flashing little naked legs; a veritable explosion of life out of the dark cave into th... | My Antonia |
In the middle of the orchard we came upon a grape-arbor, with seats built along the sides and a warped plank table. The three children were waiting for us there. They looked up at me bashfully and made some request of their mother. | No speaker | orchard that bears like ours.”<|quote|>In the middle of the orchard we came upon a grape-arbor, with seats built along the sides and a warped plank table. The three children were waiting for us there. They looked up at me bashfully and made some request of their mother.</|quote|>“They want me to tell | of our neighbors has an orchard that bears like ours.”<|quote|>In the middle of the orchard we came upon a grape-arbor, with seats built along the sides and a warped plank table. The three children were waiting for us there. They looked up at me bashfully and made some request of their mother.</|quote|>“They want me to... | got up and come out and carried water to the poor things. And now, you see, we have the good of them. My man worked in the orange groves in Florida, and he knows all about grafting. There ain’t one of our neighbors has an orchard that bears like ours.”<|quote|>In the middle of the orchard we came upon a grape-arbor, wi... | all day. Anton, he was a city man, and he used to get discouraged. But I could n’t feel so tired that I would n’t fret about these trees when there was a dry time. They were on my mind like children. Many a night after he was asleep I’ve got up and come out and carried water to the poor things. And now, you see, we hav... | The older children turned back when we reached the hedge, but Jan and Nina and Lucie crept through it by a hole known only to themselves and hid under the low-branching mulberry bushes. As we walked through the apple orchard, grown up in tall bluegrass, Ántonia kept stopping to tell me about one tree and another. “I lo... | when they all came running up the steps together, big and little, tow heads and gold heads and brown, and flashing little naked legs; a veritable explosion of life out of the dark cave into the sunlight. It made me dizzy for a moment. The boys escorted us to the front of the house, which I had n’t yet seen; in farmhous... | and talking behind his hand. When Anna finished her work and had washed her hands, she came and stood behind her mother’s chair. “Why don’t we show Mr. Burden our new fruit cave?” she asked. We started off across the yard with the children at our heels. The boys were standing by the windmill, talking about the dog; so... | us to the front of the house, which I had n’t yet seen; in farmhouses, somehow, life comes and goes by the back door. The roof was so steep that the eaves were not much above the forest of tall hollyhocks, now brown and in seed. Through July, Ántonia said, the house was buried in them; the Bohemians, I remembered, alwa... | My Antonia |
“They want me to tell you how the teacher has the school picnic here every year. These don’t go to school yet, so they think it’s all like the picnic.” | Antonia | some request of their mother.<|quote|>“They want me to tell you how the teacher has the school picnic here every year. These don’t go to school yet, so they think it’s all like the picnic.”</|quote|>After I had admired the | at me bashfully and made some request of their mother.<|quote|>“They want me to tell you how the teacher has the school picnic here every year. These don’t go to school yet, so they think it’s all like the picnic.”</|quote|>After I had admired the arbor sufficiently, the youngsters ran | has an orchard that bears like ours.” In the middle of the orchard we came upon a grape-arbor, with seats built along the sides and a warped plank table. The three children were waiting for us there. They looked up at me bashfully and made some request of their mother.<|quote|>“They want me to tell you how the teacher ... | a night after he was asleep I’ve got up and come out and carried water to the poor things. And now, you see, we have the good of them. My man worked in the orange groves in Florida, and he knows all about grafting. There ain’t one of our neighbors has an orchard that bears like ours.” In the middle of the orchard we ca... | tall bluegrass, Ántonia kept stopping to tell me about one tree and another. “I love them as if they were people,” she said, rubbing her hand over the bark. “There was n’t a tree here when we first came. We planted every one, and used to carry water for them, too—after we’d been working in the fields all day. Anton, he... | moment. The boys escorted us to the front of the house, which I had n’t yet seen; in farmhouses, somehow, life comes and goes by the back door. The roof was so steep that the eaves were not much above the forest of tall hollyhocks, now brown and in seed. Through July, Ántonia said, the house was buried in them; the Boh... | children at our heels. The boys were standing by the windmill, talking about the dog; some of them ran ahead to open the cellar door. When we descended, they all came down after us, and seemed quite as proud of the cave as the girls were. Ambrosch, the thoughtful-looking one who had directed me down by the plum bushes,... | They said nothing, but glancing at me, traced on the glass with their finger-tips the outline of the cherries and strawberries and crab-apples within, trying by a blissful expression of countenance to give me some idea of their deliciousness. “Show him the spiced plums, mother. Americans don’t have those,” said one of ... | My Antonia |
After I had admired the arbor sufficiently, the youngsters ran away to an open place where there was a rough jungle of French pinks, and squatted down among them, crawling about and measuring with a string. | No speaker | it’s all like the picnic.”<|quote|>After I had admired the arbor sufficiently, the youngsters ran away to an open place where there was a rough jungle of French pinks, and squatted down among them, crawling about and measuring with a string.</|quote|>“Jan wants to bury his | school yet, so they think it’s all like the picnic.”<|quote|>After I had admired the arbor sufficiently, the youngsters ran away to an open place where there was a rough jungle of French pinks, and squatted down among them, crawling about and measuring with a string.</|quote|>“Jan wants to bury his dog there,” Ántonia ... | three children were waiting for us there. They looked up at me bashfully and made some request of their mother. “They want me to tell you how the teacher has the school picnic here every year. These don’t go to school yet, so they think it’s all like the picnic.”<|quote|>After I had admired the arbor sufficiently, the ... | man worked in the orange groves in Florida, and he knows all about grafting. There ain’t one of our neighbors has an orchard that bears like ours.” In the middle of the orchard we came upon a grape-arbor, with seats built along the sides and a warped plank table. The three children were waiting for us there. They looke... | was n’t a tree here when we first came. We planted every one, and used to carry water for them, too—after we’d been working in the fields all day. Anton, he was a city man, and he used to get discouraged. But I could n’t feel so tired that I would n’t fret about these trees when there was a dry time. They were on my mi... | was so steep that the eaves were not much above the forest of tall hollyhocks, now brown and in seed. Through July, Ántonia said, the house was buried in them; the Bohemians, I remembered, always planted hollyhocks. The front yard was enclosed by a thorny locust hedge, and at the gate grew two silvery, moth-like trees ... | came down after us, and seemed quite as proud of the cave as the girls were. Ambrosch, the thoughtful-looking one who had directed me down by the plum bushes, called my attention to the stout brick walls and the cement floor. “Yes, it is a good way from the house,” he admitted. “But, you see, in winter there are nearly... | moment. The boys escorted us to the front of the house, which I had n’t yet seen; in farmhouses, somehow, life comes and goes by the back door. The roof was so steep that the eaves were not much above the forest of tall hollyhocks, now brown and in seed. Through July, Ántonia said, the house was buried in them; the Boh... | My Antonia |
“Jan wants to bury his dog there,” | Antonia | and measuring with a string.<|quote|>“Jan wants to bury his dog there,”</|quote|>Ántonia explained. “I had to | down among them, crawling about and measuring with a string.<|quote|>“Jan wants to bury his dog there,”</|quote|>Ántonia explained. “I had to tell him he could. He’s | These don’t go to school yet, so they think it’s all like the picnic.” After I had admired the arbor sufficiently, the youngsters ran away to an open place where there was a rough jungle of French pinks, and squatted down among them, crawling about and measuring with a string.<|quote|>“Jan wants to bury his dog there,”... | a grape-arbor, with seats built along the sides and a warped plank table. The three children were waiting for us there. They looked up at me bashfully and made some request of their mother. “They want me to tell you how the teacher has the school picnic here every year. These don’t go to school yet, so they think it’s ... | he used to get discouraged. But I could n’t feel so tired that I would n’t fret about these trees when there was a dry time. They were on my mind like children. Many a night after he was asleep I’ve got up and come out and carried water to the poor things. And now, you see, we have the good of them. My man worked in th... | hollyhocks. The front yard was enclosed by a thorny locust hedge, and at the gate grew two silvery, moth-like trees of the mimosa family. From here one looked down over the cattle yards, with their two long ponds, and over a wide stretch of stubble which they told me was a rye-field in summer. At some distance behind t... | walls and the cement floor. “Yes, it is a good way from the house,” he admitted. “But, you see, in winter there are nearly always some of us around to come out and get things.” Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds. ... | mimosa family. From here one looked down over the cattle yards, with their two long ponds, and over a wide stretch of stubble which they told me was a rye-field in summer. At some distance behind the house were an ash grove and two orchards; a cherry orchard, with gooseberry and currant bushes between the rows, and an ... | My Antonia |
Ántonia explained. | No speaker | to bury his dog there,”<|quote|>Ántonia explained.</|quote|>“I had to tell him | with a string. “Jan wants to bury his dog there,”<|quote|>Ántonia explained.</|quote|>“I had to tell him he could. He’s kind of | they think it’s all like the picnic.” After I had admired the arbor sufficiently, the youngsters ran away to an open place where there was a rough jungle of French pinks, and squatted down among them, crawling about and measuring with a string. “Jan wants to bury his dog there,”<|quote|>Ántonia explained.</|quote|>“I h... | sides and a warped plank table. The three children were waiting for us there. They looked up at me bashfully and made some request of their mother. “They want me to tell you how the teacher has the school picnic here every year. These don’t go to school yet, so they think it’s all like the picnic.” After I had admired ... | could n’t feel so tired that I would n’t fret about these trees when there was a dry time. They were on my mind like children. Many a night after he was asleep I’ve got up and come out and carried water to the poor things. And now, you see, we have the good of them. My man worked in the orange groves in Florida, and he... | a thorny locust hedge, and at the gate grew two silvery, moth-like trees of the mimosa family. From here one looked down over the cattle yards, with their two long ponds, and over a wide stretch of stubble which they told me was a rye-field in summer. At some distance behind the house were an ash grove and two orchards... | is a good way from the house,” he admitted. “But, you see, in winter there are nearly always some of us around to come out and get things.” Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds. “You would n’t believe, Jim, what it ... | had n’t yet seen; in farmhouses, somehow, life comes and goes by the back door. The roof was so steep that the eaves were not much above the forest of tall hollyhocks, now brown and in seed. Through July, Ántonia said, the house was buried in them; the Bohemians, I remembered, always planted hollyhocks. The front yard ... | My Antonia |
“I had to tell him he could. He’s kind of like Nina Harling; you remember how hard she used to take little things? He has funny notions, like her.” | Antonia | his dog there,” Ántonia explained.<|quote|>“I had to tell him he could. He’s kind of like Nina Harling; you remember how hard she used to take little things? He has funny notions, like her.”</|quote|>We sat down and watched | string. “Jan wants to bury his dog there,” Ántonia explained.<|quote|>“I had to tell him he could. He’s kind of like Nina Harling; you remember how hard she used to take little things? He has funny notions, like her.”</|quote|>We sat down and watched them. Ántonia leaned her elbows | it’s all like the picnic.” After I had admired the arbor sufficiently, the youngsters ran away to an open place where there was a rough jungle of French pinks, and squatted down among them, crawling about and measuring with a string. “Jan wants to bury his dog there,” Ántonia explained.<|quote|>“I had to tell him he co... | a warped plank table. The three children were waiting for us there. They looked up at me bashfully and made some request of their mother. “They want me to tell you how the teacher has the school picnic here every year. These don’t go to school yet, so they think it’s all like the picnic.” After I had admired the arbor ... | feel so tired that I would n’t fret about these trees when there was a dry time. They were on my mind like children. Many a night after he was asleep I’ve got up and come out and carried water to the poor things. And now, you see, we have the good of them. My man worked in the orange groves in Florida, and he knows all... | locust hedge, and at the gate grew two silvery, moth-like trees of the mimosa family. From here one looked down over the cattle yards, with their two long ponds, and over a wide stretch of stubble which they told me was a rye-field in summer. At some distance behind the house were an ash grove and two orchards; a cherr... | good way from the house,” he admitted. “But, you see, in winter there are nearly always some of us around to come out and get things.” Anna and Yulka showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds. “You would n’t believe, Jim, what it takes... | I had n’t yet seen; in farmhouses, somehow, life comes and goes by the back door. The roof was so steep that the eaves were not much above the forest of tall hollyhocks, now brown and in seed. Through July, Ántonia said, the house was buried in them; the Bohemians, I remembered, always planted hollyhocks. The front yar... | My Antonia |
We sat down and watched them. Ántonia leaned her elbows on the table. There was the deepest peace in that orchard. It was surrounded by a triple enclosure; the wire fence, then the hedge of thorny locusts, then the mulberry hedge which kept out the hot winds of summer and held fast to the protecting snows of winter. Th... | No speaker | has funny notions, like her.”<|quote|>We sat down and watched them. Ántonia leaned her elbows on the table. There was the deepest peace in that orchard. It was surrounded by a triple enclosure; the wire fence, then the hedge of thorny locusts, then the mulberry hedge which kept out the hot winds of summer and held fast... | to take little things? He has funny notions, like her.”<|quote|>We sat down and watched them. Ántonia leaned her elbows on the table. There was the deepest peace in that orchard. It was surrounded by a triple enclosure; the wire fence, then the hedge of thorny locusts, then the mulberry hedge which kept out the hot win... | and squatted down among them, crawling about and measuring with a string. “Jan wants to bury his dog there,” Ántonia explained. “I had to tell him he could. He’s kind of like Nina Harling; you remember how hard she used to take little things? He has funny notions, like her.”<|quote|>We sat down and watched them. Ántoni... | tell you how the teacher has the school picnic here every year. These don’t go to school yet, so they think it’s all like the picnic.” After I had admired the arbor sufficiently, the youngsters ran away to an open place where there was a rough jungle of French pinks, and squatted down among them, crawling about and mea... | was asleep I’ve got up and come out and carried water to the poor things. And now, you see, we have the good of them. My man worked in the orange groves in Florida, and he knows all about grafting. There ain’t one of our neighbors has an orchard that bears like ours.” In the middle of the orchard we came upon a grape-a... | and over a wide stretch of stubble which they told me was a rye-field in summer. At some distance behind the house were an ash grove and two orchards; a cherry orchard, with gooseberry and currant bushes between the rows, and an apple orchard, sheltered by a high hedge from the hot winds. The older children turned back... | showed me three small barrels; one full of dill pickles, one full of chopped pickles, and one full of pickled watermelon rinds. “You would n’t believe, Jim, what it takes to feed them all!” their mother exclaimed. “You ought to see the bread we bake on Wednesdays and Saturdays! It’s no wonder their poor papa can’t get ... | and another. “I love them as if they were people,” she said, rubbing her hand over the bark. “There was n’t a tree here when we first came. We planted every one, and used to carry water for them, too—after we’d been working in the fields all day. Anton, he was a city man, and he used to get discouraged. But I could n’t... | My Antonia |
“Are there any quail left now?” | Jim | when she was a child.<|quote|>“Are there any quail left now?”</|quote|>I asked. I reminded her | seen in the old country, when she was a child.<|quote|>“Are there any quail left now?”</|quote|>I asked. I reminded her how she used to go | drakes were handsome fellows, with pinkish gray bodies, their heads and necks covered with iridescent green feathers which grew close and full, changing to blue like a peacock’s neck. Ántonia said they always reminded her of soldiers—some uniform she had seen in the old country, when she was a child.<|quote|>“Are there... | a cup, and we could smell the ripe apples on the trees. The crabs hung on the branches as thick as beads on a string, purple-red, with a thin silvery glaze over them. Some hens and ducks had crept through the hedge and were pecking at the fallen apples. The drakes were handsome fellows, with pinkish gray bodies, their ... | We sat down and watched them. Ántonia leaned her elbows on the table. There was the deepest peace in that orchard. It was surrounded by a triple enclosure; the wire fence, then the hedge of thorny locusts, then the mulberry hedge which kept out the hot winds of summer and held fast to the protecting snows of winter. Th... | was asleep I’ve got up and come out and carried water to the poor things. And now, you see, we have the good of them. My man worked in the orange groves in Florida, and he knows all about grafting. There ain’t one of our neighbors has an orchard that bears like ours.” In the middle of the orchard we came upon a grape-a... | mother’s kolaches long before that Easter day when you were born.” “Always too fresh, Leo,” Ambrosch remarked with a shrug. Leo dived behind his mother and grinned out at me. We turned to leave the cave; Ántonia and I went up the stairs first, and the children waited. We were standing outside talking, when they all c... | sides and a warped plank table. The three children were waiting for us there. They looked up at me bashfully and made some request of their mother. “They want me to tell you how the teacher has the school picnic here every year. These don’t go to school yet, so they think it’s all like the picnic.” After I had admired ... | My Antonia |
I asked. I reminded her how she used to go hunting with me the last summer before we moved to town. | No speaker | there any quail left now?”<|quote|>I asked. I reminded her how she used to go hunting with me the last summer before we moved to town.</|quote|>“You were n’t a bad | she was a child. “Are there any quail left now?”<|quote|>I asked. I reminded her how she used to go hunting with me the last summer before we moved to town.</|quote|>“You were n’t a bad shot, Tony. Do you remember | gray bodies, their heads and necks covered with iridescent green feathers which grew close and full, changing to blue like a peacock’s neck. Ántonia said they always reminded her of soldiers—some uniform she had seen in the old country, when she was a child. “Are there any quail left now?”<|quote|>I asked. I reminded h... | the ripe apples on the trees. The crabs hung on the branches as thick as beads on a string, purple-red, with a thin silvery glaze over them. Some hens and ducks had crept through the hedge and were pecking at the fallen apples. The drakes were handsome fellows, with pinkish gray bodies, their heads and necks covered wi... | Ántonia leaned her elbows on the table. There was the deepest peace in that orchard. It was surrounded by a triple enclosure; the wire fence, then the hedge of thorny locusts, then the mulberry hedge which kept out the hot winds of summer and held fast to the protecting snows of winter. The hedges were so tall that we ... | come out and carried water to the poor things. And now, you see, we have the good of them. My man worked in the orange groves in Florida, and he knows all about grafting. There ain’t one of our neighbors has an orchard that bears like ours.” In the middle of the orchard we came upon a grape-arbor, with seats built alon... | day when you were born.” “Always too fresh, Leo,” Ambrosch remarked with a shrug. Leo dived behind his mother and grinned out at me. We turned to leave the cave; Ántonia and I went up the stairs first, and the children waited. We were standing outside talking, when they all came running up the steps together, big and... | used to carry water for them, too—after we’d been working in the fields all day. Anton, he was a city man, and he used to get discouraged. But I could n’t feel so tired that I would n’t fret about these trees when there was a dry time. They were on my mind like children. Many a night after he was asleep I’ve got up and... | My Antonia |
“You were n’t a bad shot, Tony. Do you remember how you used to want to run away and go for ducks with Charley Harling and me?” | Jim | before we moved to town.<|quote|>“You were n’t a bad shot, Tony. Do you remember how you used to want to run away and go for ducks with Charley Harling and me?”</|quote|>“I know, but I’m afraid | with me the last summer before we moved to town.<|quote|>“You were n’t a bad shot, Tony. Do you remember how you used to want to run away and go for ducks with Charley Harling and me?”</|quote|>“I know, but I’m afraid to look at a gun | peacock’s neck. Ántonia said they always reminded her of soldiers—some uniform she had seen in the old country, when she was a child. “Are there any quail left now?” I asked. I reminded her how she used to go hunting with me the last summer before we moved to town.<|quote|>“You were n’t a bad shot, Tony. Do you remembe... | a thin silvery glaze over them. Some hens and ducks had crept through the hedge and were pecking at the fallen apples. The drakes were handsome fellows, with pinkish gray bodies, their heads and necks covered with iridescent green feathers which grew close and full, changing to blue like a peacock’s neck. Ántonia said ... | enclosure; the wire fence, then the hedge of thorny locusts, then the mulberry hedge which kept out the hot winds of summer and held fast to the protecting snows of winter. The hedges were so tall that we could see nothing but the blue sky above them, neither the barn roof nor the windmill. The afternoon sun poured dow... | worked in the orange groves in Florida, and he knows all about grafting. There ain’t one of our neighbors has an orchard that bears like ours.” In the middle of the orchard we came upon a grape-arbor, with seats built along the sides and a warped plank table. The three children were waiting for us there. They looked up... | out at me. We turned to leave the cave; Ántonia and I went up the stairs first, and the children waited. We were standing outside talking, when they all came running up the steps together, big and little, tow heads and gold heads and brown, and flashing little naked legs; a veritable explosion of life out of the dark c... | n’t feel so tired that I would n’t fret about these trees when there was a dry time. They were on my mind like children. Many a night after he was asleep I’ve got up and come out and carried water to the poor things. And now, you see, we have the good of them. My man worked in the orange groves in Florida, and he knows... | My Antonia |
“I know, but I’m afraid to look at a gun now.” | Antonia | with Charley Harling and me?”<|quote|>“I know, but I’m afraid to look at a gun now.”</|quote|>She picked up one of | away and go for ducks with Charley Harling and me?”<|quote|>“I know, but I’m afraid to look at a gun now.”</|quote|>She picked up one of the drakes and ruffled his | left now?” I asked. I reminded her how she used to go hunting with me the last summer before we moved to town. “You were n’t a bad shot, Tony. Do you remember how you used to want to run away and go for ducks with Charley Harling and me?”<|quote|>“I know, but I’m afraid to look at a gun now.”</|quote|>She picked up one... | with pinkish gray bodies, their heads and necks covered with iridescent green feathers which grew close and full, changing to blue like a peacock’s neck. Ántonia said they always reminded her of soldiers—some uniform she had seen in the old country, when she was a child. “Are there any quail left now?” I asked. I remin... | protecting snows of winter. The hedges were so tall that we could see nothing but the blue sky above them, neither the barn roof nor the windmill. The afternoon sun poured down on us through the drying grape leaves. The orchard seemed full of sun, like a cup, and we could smell the ripe apples on the trees. The crabs h... | the middle of the orchard we came upon a grape-arbor, with seats built along the sides and a warped plank table. The three children were waiting for us there. They looked up at me bashfully and made some request of their mother. “They want me to tell you how the teacher has the school picnic here every year. These don’... | they all came running up the steps together, big and little, tow heads and gold heads and brown, and flashing little naked legs; a veritable explosion of life out of the dark cave into the sunlight. It made me dizzy for a moment. The boys escorted us to the front of the house, which I had n’t yet seen; in farmhouses, s... | had to tell him he could. He’s kind of like Nina Harling; you remember how hard she used to take little things? He has funny notions, like her.” We sat down and watched them. Ántonia leaned her elbows on the table. There was the deepest peace in that orchard. It was surrounded by a triple enclosure; the wire fence, the... | My Antonia |
She picked up one of the drakes and ruffled his green capote with her fingers. | No speaker | look at a gun now.”<|quote|>She picked up one of the drakes and ruffled his green capote with her fingers.</|quote|>“Ever since I’ve had children, | know, but I’m afraid to look at a gun now.”<|quote|>She picked up one of the drakes and ruffled his green capote with her fingers.</|quote|>“Ever since I’ve had children, I don’t like to kill | go hunting with me the last summer before we moved to town. “You were n’t a bad shot, Tony. Do you remember how you used to want to run away and go for ducks with Charley Harling and me?” “I know, but I’m afraid to look at a gun now.”<|quote|>She picked up one of the drakes and ruffled his green capote with her fingers... | green feathers which grew close and full, changing to blue like a peacock’s neck. Ántonia said they always reminded her of soldiers—some uniform she had seen in the old country, when she was a child. “Are there any quail left now?” I asked. I reminded her how she used to go hunting with me the last summer before we mov... | could see nothing but the blue sky above them, neither the barn roof nor the windmill. The afternoon sun poured down on us through the drying grape leaves. The orchard seemed full of sun, like a cup, and we could smell the ripe apples on the trees. The crabs hung on the branches as thick as beads on a string, purple-re... | seats built along the sides and a warped plank table. The three children were waiting for us there. They looked up at me bashfully and made some request of their mother. “They want me to tell you how the teacher has the school picnic here every year. These don’t go to school yet, so they think it’s all like the picnic.... | tow heads and gold heads and brown, and flashing little naked legs; a veritable explosion of life out of the dark cave into the sunlight. It made me dizzy for a moment. The boys escorted us to the front of the house, which I had n’t yet seen; in farmhouses, somehow, life comes and goes by the back door. The roof was so... | and carried water to the poor things. And now, you see, we have the good of them. My man worked in the orange groves in Florida, and he knows all about grafting. There ain’t one of our neighbors has an orchard that bears like ours.” In the middle of the orchard we came upon a grape-arbor, with seats built along the sid... | My Antonia |
“Ever since I’ve had children, I don’t like to kill anything. It makes me kind of faint to wring an old goose’s neck. Ain’t that strange, Jim?” | Antonia | green capote with her fingers.<|quote|>“Ever since I’ve had children, I don’t like to kill anything. It makes me kind of faint to wring an old goose’s neck. Ain’t that strange, Jim?”</|quote|>“I don’t know. The young | the drakes and ruffled his green capote with her fingers.<|quote|>“Ever since I’ve had children, I don’t like to kill anything. It makes me kind of faint to wring an old goose’s neck. Ain’t that strange, Jim?”</|quote|>“I don’t know. The young Queen of Italy said the | a bad shot, Tony. Do you remember how you used to want to run away and go for ducks with Charley Harling and me?” “I know, but I’m afraid to look at a gun now.” She picked up one of the drakes and ruffled his green capote with her fingers.<|quote|>“Ever since I’ve had children, I don’t like to kill anything. It makes m... | said they always reminded her of soldiers—some uniform she had seen in the old country, when she was a child. “Are there any quail left now?” I asked. I reminded her how she used to go hunting with me the last summer before we moved to town. “You were n’t a bad shot, Tony. Do you remember how you used to want to run aw... | windmill. The afternoon sun poured down on us through the drying grape leaves. The orchard seemed full of sun, like a cup, and we could smell the ripe apples on the trees. The crabs hung on the branches as thick as beads on a string, purple-red, with a thin silvery glaze over them. Some hens and ducks had crept through... | for us there. They looked up at me bashfully and made some request of their mother. “They want me to tell you how the teacher has the school picnic here every year. These don’t go to school yet, so they think it’s all like the picnic.” After I had admired the arbor sufficiently, the youngsters ran away to an open place... | of life out of the dark cave into the sunlight. It made me dizzy for a moment. The boys escorted us to the front of the house, which I had n’t yet seen; in farmhouses, somehow, life comes and goes by the back door. The roof was so steep that the eaves were not much above the forest of tall hollyhocks, now brown and in ... | the hot winds of summer and held fast to the protecting snows of winter. The hedges were so tall that we could see nothing but the blue sky above them, neither the barn roof nor the windmill. The afternoon sun poured down on us through the drying grape leaves. The orchard seemed full of sun, like a cup, and we could sm... | My Antonia |
“I don’t know. The young Queen of Italy said the same thing once, to a friend of mine. She used to be a great huntswoman, but now she feels as you do, and only shoots clay pigeons.” | Jim | neck. Ain’t that strange, Jim?”<|quote|>“I don’t know. The young Queen of Italy said the same thing once, to a friend of mine. She used to be a great huntswoman, but now she feels as you do, and only shoots clay pigeons.”</|quote|>“Then I’m sure she’s a | to wring an old goose’s neck. Ain’t that strange, Jim?”<|quote|>“I don’t know. The young Queen of Italy said the same thing once, to a friend of mine. She used to be a great huntswoman, but now she feels as you do, and only shoots clay pigeons.”</|quote|>“Then I’m sure she’s a good mother,” Ántonia said warmly. | I’m afraid to look at a gun now.” She picked up one of the drakes and ruffled his green capote with her fingers. “Ever since I’ve had children, I don’t like to kill anything. It makes me kind of faint to wring an old goose’s neck. Ain’t that strange, Jim?”<|quote|>“I don’t know. The young Queen of Italy said the same t... | asked. I reminded her how she used to go hunting with me the last summer before we moved to town. “You were n’t a bad shot, Tony. Do you remember how you used to want to run away and go for ducks with Charley Harling and me?” “I know, but I’m afraid to look at a gun now.” She picked up one of the drakes and ruffled his... | ripe apples on the trees. The crabs hung on the branches as thick as beads on a string, purple-red, with a thin silvery glaze over them. Some hens and ducks had crept through the hedge and were pecking at the fallen apples. The drakes were handsome fellows, with pinkish gray bodies, their heads and necks covered with i... | school picnic here every year. These don’t go to school yet, so they think it’s all like the picnic.” After I had admired the arbor sufficiently, the youngsters ran away to an open place where there was a rough jungle of French pinks, and squatted down among them, crawling about and measuring with a string. “Jan wants ... | which I had n’t yet seen; in farmhouses, somehow, life comes and goes by the back door. The roof was so steep that the eaves were not much above the forest of tall hollyhocks, now brown and in seed. Through July, Ántonia said, the house was buried in them; the Bohemians, I remembered, always planted hollyhocks. The fro... | and watched them. Ántonia leaned her elbows on the table. There was the deepest peace in that orchard. It was surrounded by a triple enclosure; the wire fence, then the hedge of thorny locusts, then the mulberry hedge which kept out the hot winds of summer and held fast to the protecting snows of winter. The hedges wer... | My Antonia |
“Then I’m sure she’s a good mother,” | Antonia | and only shoots clay pigeons.”<|quote|>“Then I’m sure she’s a good mother,”</|quote|>Ántonia said warmly. She told | she feels as you do, and only shoots clay pigeons.”<|quote|>“Then I’m sure she’s a good mother,”</|quote|>Ántonia said warmly. She told me how she and her | kind of faint to wring an old goose’s neck. Ain’t that strange, Jim?” “I don’t know. The young Queen of Italy said the same thing once, to a friend of mine. She used to be a great huntswoman, but now she feels as you do, and only shoots clay pigeons.”<|quote|>“Then I’m sure she’s a good mother,”</|quote|>Ántonia said w... | away and go for ducks with Charley Harling and me?” “I know, but I’m afraid to look at a gun now.” She picked up one of the drakes and ruffled his green capote with her fingers. “Ever since I’ve had children, I don’t like to kill anything. It makes me kind of faint to wring an old goose’s neck. Ain’t that strange, Jim?... | pecking at the fallen apples. The drakes were handsome fellows, with pinkish gray bodies, their heads and necks covered with iridescent green feathers which grew close and full, changing to blue like a peacock’s neck. Ántonia said they always reminded her of soldiers—some uniform she had seen in the old country, when s... | a rough jungle of French pinks, and squatted down among them, crawling about and measuring with a string. “Jan wants to bury his dog there,” Ántonia explained. “I had to tell him he could. He’s kind of like Nina Harling; you remember how hard she used to take little things? He has funny notions, like her.” We sat down ... | in seed. Through July, Ántonia said, the house was buried in them; the Bohemians, I remembered, always planted hollyhocks. The front yard was enclosed by a thorny locust hedge, and at the gate grew two silvery, moth-like trees of the mimosa family. From here one looked down over the cattle yards, with their two long po... | Ántonia leaned her elbows on the table. There was the deepest peace in that orchard. It was surrounded by a triple enclosure; the wire fence, then the hedge of thorny locusts, then the mulberry hedge which kept out the hot winds of summer and held fast to the protecting snows of winter. The hedges were so tall that we ... | My Antonia |
Ántonia said warmly. She told me how she and her husband had come out to this new country when the farm land was cheap and could be had on easy payments. The first ten years were a hard struggle. Her husband knew very little about farming and often grew discouraged. | No speaker | sure she’s a good mother,”<|quote|>Ántonia said warmly. She told me how she and her husband had come out to this new country when the farm land was cheap and could be had on easy payments. The first ten years were a hard struggle. Her husband knew very little about farming and often grew discouraged.</|quote|>“We’d ne... | shoots clay pigeons.” “Then I’m sure she’s a good mother,”<|quote|>Ántonia said warmly. She told me how she and her husband had come out to this new country when the farm land was cheap and could be had on easy payments. The first ten years were a hard struggle. Her husband knew very little about farming and often gre... | goose’s neck. Ain’t that strange, Jim?” “I don’t know. The young Queen of Italy said the same thing once, to a friend of mine. She used to be a great huntswoman, but now she feels as you do, and only shoots clay pigeons.” “Then I’m sure she’s a good mother,”<|quote|>Ántonia said warmly. She told me how she and her hus... | Harling and me?” “I know, but I’m afraid to look at a gun now.” She picked up one of the drakes and ruffled his green capote with her fingers. “Ever since I’ve had children, I don’t like to kill anything. It makes me kind of faint to wring an old goose’s neck. Ain’t that strange, Jim?” “I don’t know. The young Queen of... | were handsome fellows, with pinkish gray bodies, their heads and necks covered with iridescent green feathers which grew close and full, changing to blue like a peacock’s neck. Ántonia said they always reminded her of soldiers—some uniform she had seen in the old country, when she was a child. “Are there any quail left... | squatted down among them, crawling about and measuring with a string. “Jan wants to bury his dog there,” Ántonia explained. “I had to tell him he could. He’s kind of like Nina Harling; you remember how hard she used to take little things? He has funny notions, like her.” We sat down and watched them. Ántonia leaned her... | house was buried in them; the Bohemians, I remembered, always planted hollyhocks. The front yard was enclosed by a thorny locust hedge, and at the gate grew two silvery, moth-like trees of the mimosa family. From here one looked down over the cattle yards, with their two long ponds, and over a wide stretch of stubble w... | man worked in the orange groves in Florida, and he knows all about grafting. There ain’t one of our neighbors has an orchard that bears like ours.” In the middle of the orchard we came upon a grape-arbor, with seats built along the sides and a warped plank table. The three children were waiting for us there. They looke... | My Antonia |
“We’d never have got through if I had n’t been so strong. I’ve always had good health, thank God, and I was able to help him in the fields until right up to the time before my babies came. Our children were good about taking care of each other. Martha, the one you saw when she was a baby, was such a help to me, and she... | Antonia | farming and often grew discouraged.<|quote|>“We’d never have got through if I had n’t been so strong. I’ve always had good health, thank God, and I was able to help him in the fields until right up to the time before my babies came. Our children were good about taking care of each other. Martha, the one you saw when sh... | husband knew very little about farming and often grew discouraged.<|quote|>“We’d never have got through if I had n’t been so strong. I’ve always had good health, thank God, and I was able to help him in the fields until right up to the time before my babies came. Our children were good about taking care of each other. ... | Ántonia said warmly. She told me how she and her husband had come out to this new country when the farm land was cheap and could be had on easy payments. The first ten years were a hard struggle. Her husband knew very little about farming and often grew discouraged.<|quote|>“We’d never have got through if I had n’t be... | goose’s neck. Ain’t that strange, Jim?” “I don’t know. The young Queen of Italy said the same thing once, to a friend of mine. She used to be a great huntswoman, but now she feels as you do, and only shoots clay pigeons.” “Then I’m sure she’s a good mother,” Ántonia said warmly. She told me how she and her husband had... | there any quail left now?” I asked. I reminded her how she used to go hunting with me the last summer before we moved to town. “You were n’t a bad shot, Tony. Do you remember how you used to want to run away and go for ducks with Charley Harling and me?” “I know, but I’m afraid to look at a gun now.” She picked up one ... | sat down and watched them. Ántonia leaned her elbows on the table. There was the deepest peace in that orchard. It was surrounded by a triple enclosure; the wire fence, then the hedge of thorny locusts, then the mulberry hedge which kept out the hot winds of summer and held fast to the protecting snows of winter. The h... | over a wide stretch of stubble which they told me was a rye-field in summer. At some distance behind the house were an ash grove and two orchards; a cherry orchard, with gooseberry and currant bushes between the rows, and an apple orchard, sheltered by a high hedge from the hot winds. The older children turned back whe... | hens and ducks had crept through the hedge and were pecking at the fallen apples. The drakes were handsome fellows, with pinkish gray bodies, their heads and necks covered with iridescent green feathers which grew close and full, changing to blue like a peacock’s neck. Ántonia said they always reminded her of soldiers—... | My Antonia |
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