by Willa Cather
III
ON Saturday Ambrosch drove up to the back gate, and Antonia jumped downfrom the wagon and ran into our kitchen just as she used to do. She waswearing shoes and stockings, and was breathless and excited. She gave me aplayful shake by the shoulders. "You ain't forget about me, Jim?"
Grandmother kissed her. "God bless you, child! Now you've come, you musttry to do right and be a credit to us."
Antonia looked eagerly about the house and admired everything. "Maybe I bethe kind of girl you like better, now I come to town," she suggestedhopefully.
How good it was to have Antonia near us again; to see her every day andalmost every night! Her greatest fault, Mrs. Harling found, was that sheso often stopped her work and fell to playing with the children. She wouldrace about the orchard with us, or take sides in our hay-fights in thebarn, or be the old bear that came down from the mountain and carried offNina. Tony learned English so quickly that by the time school began shecould speak as well as any of us.
I was jealous of Tony's admiration for Charley Harling. Because he wasalways first in his classes at school, and could mend the water-pipes orthe door-bell and take the clock to pieces, she seemed to think him a sortof prince. Nothing that Charley wanted was too much trouble for her. Sheloved to put up lunches for him when he went hunting, to mend hisball-gloves and sew buttons on his shooting-coat, baked the kind ofnut-cake he liked, and fed his setter dog when he was away on trips withhis father. Antonia had made herself cloth working-slippers out of Mr.Harling's old coats, and in these she went padding about after Charley,fairly panting with eagerness to please him.
Next to Charley, I think she loved Nina best. Nina was only six, and shewas rather more complex than the other children. She was fanciful, had allsorts of unspoken preferences, and was easily offended. At the slightestdisappointment or displeasure her velvety brown eyes filled with tears,and she would lift her chin and walk silently away. If we ran after herand tried to appease her, it did no good. She walked on unmollified. Iused to think that no eyes in the world could grow so large or hold somany tears as Nina's. Mrs. Harling and Antonia invariably took her part.We were never given a chance to explain. The charge was simply: "You havemade Nina cry. Now, Jimmy can go home, and Sally must get her arithmetic."I liked Nina, too; she was so quaint and unexpected, and her eyes werelovely; but I often wanted to shake her.
We had jolly evenings at the Harlings when the father was away. If he wasat home, the children had to go to bed early, or they came over to myhouse to play. Mr. Harling not only demanded a quiet house, he demandedall his wife's attention. He used to take her away to their room in thewest ell, and talk over his business with her all evening. Though we didnot realize it then, Mrs. Harling was our audience when we played, and wealways looked to her for suggestions. Nothing flattered one like her quicklaugh.
Mr. Harling had a desk in his bedroom, and his own easy-chair by thewindow, in which no one else ever sat. On the nights when he was at home,I could see his shadow on the blind, and it seemed to me an arrogantshadow. Mrs. Harling paid no heed to any one else if he was there. Beforehe went to bed she always got him a lunch of smoked salmon or anchoviesand beer. He kept an alcohol lamp in his room, and a French coffee-pot,and his wife made coffee for him at any hour of the night he happened towant it.
Most Black Hawk fathers had no personal habits outside their domesticones; they paid the bills, pushed the baby carriage after office hours,moved the sprinkler about over the lawn, and took the family driving onSunday. Mr. Harling, therefore, seemed to me autocratic and imperial inhis ways. He walked, talked, put on his gloves, shook hands, like a manwho felt that he had power. He was not tall, but he carried his head sohaughtily that he looked a commanding figure, and there was somethingdaring and challenging in his eyes. I used to imagine that the "nobles" ofwhom Antonia was always talking probably looked very much like ChristianHarling, wore caped overcoats like his, and just such a glittering diamondupon the little finger.
Except when the father was at home, the Harling house was never quiet.Mrs. Harling and Nina and Antonia made as much noise as a houseful ofchildren, and there was usually somebody at the piano. Julia was the onlyone who was held down to regular hours of practicing, but they all played.When Frances came home at noon, she played until dinner was ready. WhenSally got back from school, she sat down in her hat and coat and drummedthe plantation melodies that negro minstrel troupes brought to town. EvenNina played the Swedish Wedding March.
Mrs. Harling had studied the piano under a good teacher, and somehow shemanaged to practice every day. I soon learned that if I were sent over onan errand and found Mrs. Harling at the piano, I must sit down and waitquietly until she turned to me. I can see her at this moment; her short,square person planted firmly on the stool, her little fat hands movingquickly and neatly over the keys, her eyes fixed on the music withintelligent concentration.