t be afraid of
them, either!

I hated to enter the still house when I went home from the dances, and
it was long before I could get to sleep. Toward morning I used to have
pleasant dreams: sometimes Tony and I were out in the country, sliding
down straw-stacks as we used to do; climbing up the yellow mountains
over and over, and slipping down the smooth sides into soft piles of
chaff.

One dream I dreamed a great many times, and it was always the same. I
was in a harvest-field full of shocks, and I was lying against one of
them. Lena Lingard came across the stubble barefoot, in a short skirt,
with a curved reaping-hook in her hand, and she was flushed like the
dawn, with a kind of luminous rosiness all about her. She sat down
beside me, turned to me with a soft sigh and said, 'Now they are all
gone, and I can kiss you as much as I like.'

I used to wish I could have this flattering dream about Antonia, but I
never did.

XIII

I NOTICED ONE AFTERNOON that grandmother had been crying. Her feet
seemed to drag as she moved about the house, and I got up from the table
where I was studying and went to her, asking if she didn't feel well,
and if I couldn't help her with her work.

'No, thank you, Jim. I'm troubled, but I guess I'm well enough. Getting
a little rusty in the bones, maybe,' she added bitterly.

I stood hesitating. 'What are you fretting about, grandmother? Has
grandfather lost any money?'

'No, it ain't money. I wish it was. But I've heard things. You must 'a'
known it would come back to me sometime.' She dropped into a chair, and,
covering her face with her apron, began to cry. 'Jim,' she said, 'I was
never one that claimed old folks could bring up their grandchildren. But
it came about so; there wasn't any other way for you, it seemed like.'

I put my arms around her. I couldn't bear to see her cry.

'What is it, grandmother? Is it the Firemen's dances?'

She nodded.

'I'm sorry I sneaked off like that. But there's nothing wrong about
the dances, and I haven't done anything wrong. I like all those country
girls, and I like to dance with them. That's all there is to it.'

'But it ain't right to deceive us, son, and it brings blame on us.
People say you are growing up to be a bad boy, and that ain't just to
us.'

'I don't care what they say about me, but if it hurts you, that settles
it. I won't go to the Firemen's Hall again.'

I kept my promise, of course, but I found the spring mont