dfather came in and spoke to me: 'Jimmy, we will not
have prayers this morning, because we have a great deal to do. Old Mr.
Shimerda is dead, and his family are in great distress. Ambrosch came
over here in the middle of the night, and Jake and Otto went back with
him. The boys have had a hard night, and you must not bother them with
questions. That is Ambrosch, asleep on the bench. Come in to breakfast,
boys.'

After Jake and Otto had swallowed their first cup of coffee, they began
to talk excitedly, disregarding grandmother's warning glances. I held my
tongue, but I listened with all my ears.

'No, sir,' Fuchs said in answer to a question from grandfather, 'nobody
heard the gun go off. Ambrosch was out with the ox-team, trying to
break a road, and the women-folks was shut up tight in their cave. When
Ambrosch come in, it was dark and he didn't see nothing, but the
oxen acted kind of queer. One of 'em ripped around and got away from
him--bolted clean out of the stable. His hands is blistered where the
rope run through. He got a lantern and went back and found the old man,
just as we seen him.'

'Poor soul, poor soul!' grandmother groaned. 'I'd like to think he never
done it. He was always considerate and un-wishful to give trouble. How
could he forget himself and bring this on us!'

'I don't think he was out of his head for a minute, Mrs. Burden,' Fuchs
declared. 'He done everything natural. You know he was always sort of
fixy, and fixy he was to the last. He shaved after dinner, and washed
hisself all over after the girls had done the dishes. Antonia heated the
water for him. Then he put on a clean shirt and clean socks, and after
he was dressed he kissed her and the little one and took his gun and
said he was going out to hunt rabbits. He must have gone right down to
the barn and done it then. He layed down on that bunk-bed, close to
the ox stalls, where he always slept. When we found him, everything was
decent except'--Fuchs wrinkled his brow and hesitated--'except what he
couldn't nowise foresee. His coat was hung on a peg, and his boots was
under the bed. He'd took off that silk neckcloth he always wore, and
folded it smooth and stuck his pin through it. He turned back his shirt
at the neck and rolled up his sleeves.'

'I don't see how he could do it!' grandmother kept saying.

Otto misunderstood her. 'Why, ma'am, it was simple enough; he pulled the
trigger with his big toe. He layed over on his side and put