by Willa Cather
II
GRANDMOTHER OFTEN SAID THAT if she had to live in town, she thankedGod she lived next the Harlings. They had been farming people, likeourselves, and their place was like a little farm, with a big barn anda garden, and an orchard and grazing lots--even a windmill. The Harlingswere Norwegians, and Mrs. Harling had lived in Christiania until shewas ten years old. Her husband was born in Minnesota. He was a grainmerchant and cattle-buyer, and was generally considered the mostenterprising business man in our county. He controlled a line of grainelevators in the little towns along the railroad to the west of us, andwas away from home a great deal. In his absence his wife was the head ofthe household.
Mrs. Harling was short and square and sturdy-looking, like her house.Every inch of her was charged with an energy that made itself felt themoment she entered a room. Her face was rosy and solid, with bright,twinkling eyes and a stubborn little chin. She was quick to anger, quickto laughter, and jolly from the depths of her soul. How well I rememberher laugh; it had in it the same sudden recognition that flashed intoher eyes, was a burst of humour, short and intelligent. Her rapidfootsteps shook her own floors, and she routed lassitude andindifference wherever she came. She could not be negative or perfunctoryabout anything. Her enthusiasm, and her violent likes and dislikes,asserted themselves in all the everyday occupations of life. Wash-daywas interesting, never dreary, at the Harlings'. Preserving-time was aprolonged festival, and house-cleaning was like a revolution. WhenMrs. Harling made garden that spring, we could feel the stir of herundertaking through the willow hedge that separated our place from hers.
Three of the Harling children were near me in age. Charley, the onlyson--they had lost an older boy--was sixteen; Julia, who was known asthe musical one, was fourteen when I was; and Sally, the tomboy withshort hair, was a year younger. She was nearly as strong as I, anduncannily clever at all boys' sports. Sally was a wild thing, withsunburned yellow hair, bobbed about her ears, and a brown skin, for shenever wore a hat. She raced all over town on one roller skate, oftencheated at 'keeps,' but was such a quick shot one couldn't catch her atit.
The grown-up daughter, Frances, was a very important person in ourworld. She was her father's chief clerk, and virtually managed hisBlack Hawk office during his frequent absences. Because of her unusualbusiness ability, he was stern and exacting with her. He paid her agood salary, but she had few holidays and never got away from herresponsibilities. Even on Sundays she went to the office to open themail and read the markets. With Charley, who was not interested inbusiness, but was already preparing for Annapolis, Mr. Harling was veryindulgent; bought him guns and tools and electric batteries, and neverasked what he did with them.
Frances was dark, like her father, and quite as tall. In winter shewore a sealskin coat and cap, and she and Mr. Harling used to walk hometogether in the evening, talking about grain-cars and cattle, like twomen. Sometimes she came over to see grandfather after supper, and hervisits flattered him. More than once they put their wits together torescue some unfortunate farmer from the clutches of Wick Cutter, theBlack Hawk money-lender. Grandfather said Frances Harling was as good ajudge of credits as any banker in the county. The two or three men whohad tried to take advantage of her in a deal acquired celebrity by theirdefeat. She knew every farmer for miles about: how much land he hadunder cultivation, how many cattle he was feeding, what his liabilitieswere. Her interest in these people was more than a business interest.She carried them all in her mind as if they were characters in a book ora play.
When Frances drove out into the country on business, she would go milesout of her way to call on some of the old people, or to see the womenwho seldom got to town. She was quick at understanding the grandmotherswho spoke no English, and the most reticent and distrustful of themwould tell her their story without realizing they were doing so. Shewent to country funerals and weddings in all weathers. A farmer'sdaughter who was to be married could count on a wedding present fromFrances Harling.
In August the Harlings' Danish cook had to leave them. Grandmotherentreated them to try Antonia. She cornered Ambrosch the next time hecame to town, and pointed out to him that any connection with ChristianHarling would strengthen his credit and be of advantage to him. OneSunday Mrs. Harling took the long ride out to the Shimerdas' withFrances. She said she wanted to see 'what the girl came from' and tohave a clear understanding with her mother. I was in our yard when theycame driving home, just before sunset. They laughed and waved to meas they passed, and I could see they were in great good humour. Aftersupper, when grandfather set off to church, grandmother and I took myshort cut through the willow hedge and went over to hear about the visitto the Shimerdas'.
We found Mrs. Harling with Charley and Sally on the front porch,resting after her hard drive. Julia was in the hammock--she was fondof repose--and Frances was at the piano, playing without a light andtalking to her mother through the open window.
Mrs. Harling laughed when she saw us coming. 'I expect you left yourdishes on the table tonight, Mrs. Burden,' she called. Frances shut thepiano and came out to join us.
They had liked Antonia from their first glimpse of her; felt they knewexactly what kind of girl she was. As for Mrs. Shimerda, they found hervery amusing. Mrs. Harling chuckled whenever she spoke of her. 'I expectI am more at home with that sort of bird than you are, Mrs. Burden.They're a pair, Ambrosch and that old woman!'
They had had a long argument with Ambrosch about Antonia's allowancefor clothes and pocket-money. It was his plan that every cent of hissister's wages should be paid over to him each month, and he wouldprovide her with such clothing as he thought necessary. When Mrs.Harling told him firmly that she would keep fifty dollars a year forAntonia's own use, he declared they wanted to take his sister to townand dress her up and make a fool of her. Mrs. Harling gave us a livelyaccount of Ambrosch's behaviour throughout the interview; how he keptjumping up and putting on his cap as if he were through with the wholebusiness, and how his mother tweaked his coat-tail and prompted him inBohemian. Mrs. Harling finally agreed to pay three dollars a week forAntonia's services--good wages in those days--and to keep her in shoes.There had been hot dispute about the shoes, Mrs. Shimerda finally sayingpersuasively that she would send Mrs. Harling three fat geese every yearto 'make even.' Ambrosch was to bring his sister to town next Saturday.
'She'll be awkward and rough at first, like enough,' grandmother saidanxiously, 'but unless she's been spoiled by the hard life she's led,she has it in her to be a real helpful girl.'
Mrs. Harling laughed her quick, decided laugh. 'Oh, I'm not worrying,Mrs. Burden! I can bring something out of that girl. She's barelyseventeen, not too old to learn new ways. She's good-looking, too!' sheadded warmly.
Frances turned to grandmother. 'Oh, yes, Mrs. Burden, you didn't tellus that! She was working in the garden when we got there, barefoot andragged. But she has such fine brown legs and arms, and splendid colourin her cheeks--like those big dark red plums.'
We were pleased at this praise. Grandmother spoke feelingly. 'When shefirst came to this country, Frances, and had that genteel old man towatch over her, she was as pretty a girl as ever I saw. But, dear me,what a life she's led, out in the fields with those rough threshers!Things would have been very different with poor Antonia if her fatherhad lived.'
The Harlings begged us to tell them about Mr. Shimerda's death and thebig snowstorm. By the time we saw grandfather coming home from church,we had told them pretty much all we knew of the Shimerdas.
'The girl will be happy here, and she'll forget those things,' said Mrs.Harling confidently, as we rose to take our leave.