'Don't you worry about me, Mrs. Burden,' he said cheerfully, as he put
on a second pair of socks. 'I've got a good nose for directions, and I
never did need much sleep. It's the grey I'm worried about. I'll save
him what I can, but it'll strain him, as sure as I'm telling you!'

'This is no time to be over-considerate of animals, Otto; do the best
you can for yourself. Stop at the Widow Steavens's for dinner. She's a
good woman, and she'll do well by you.'

After Fuchs rode away, I was left with Ambrosch. I saw a side of him I
had not seen before. He was deeply, even slavishly, devout. He did not
say a word all morning, but sat with his rosary in his hands, praying,
now silently, now aloud. He never looked away from his beads, nor lifted
his hands except to cross himself. Several times the poor boy fell
asleep where he sat, wakened with a start, and began to pray again.

No wagon could be got to the Shimerdas' until a road was broken, and
that would be a day's job. Grandfather came from the barn on one of our
big black horses, and Jake lifted grandmother up behind him. She wore
her black hood and was bundled up in shawls. Grandfather tucked his
bushy white beard inside his overcoat. They looked very Biblical as they
set off, I thought. Jake and Ambrosch followed them, riding the other
black and my pony, carrying bundles of clothes that we had got together
for Mrs. Shimerda. I watched them go past the pond and over the hill by
the drifted cornfield. Then, for the first time, I realized that I was
alone in the house.

I felt a considerable extension of power and authority, and was anxious
to acquit myself creditably. I carried in cobs and wood from the long
cellar, and filled both the stoves. I remembered that in the hurry and
excitement of the morning nobody had thought of the chickens, and the
eggs had not been gathered. Going out through the tunnel, I gave the
hens their corn, emptied the ice from their drinking-pan, and filled
it with water. After the cat had had his milk, I could think of nothing
else to do, and I sat down to get warm. The quiet was delightful, and
the ticking clock was the most pleasant of companions. I got 'Robinson
Crusoe' and tried to read, but his life on the island seemed dull
compared with ours. Presently, as I looked with satisfaction about our
comfortable sitting-room, it flashed upon me that if Mr. Shimerda's
soul were lingering about in this world at all, it would be here, in
our hous