range, Jim?'

'I don't know. The young Queen of Italy said the same thing once, to a
friend of mine. She used to be a great huntswoman, but now she feels as
you do, and only shoots clay pigeons.'

'Then I'm sure she's a good mother,' Antonia said warmly.

She told me how she and her husband had come out to this new country
when the farm-land was cheap and could be had on easy payments. The
first ten years were a hard struggle. Her husband knew very little about
farming and often grew discouraged. 'We'd never have got through if I
hadn't been so strong. I've always had good health, thank God, and I
was able to help him in the fields until right up to the time before
my babies came. Our children were good about taking care of each other.
Martha, the one you saw when she was a baby, was such a help to me, and
she trained Anna to be just like her. My Martha's married now, and has a
baby of her own. Think of that, Jim!

'No, I never got down-hearted. Anton's a good man, and I loved my
children and always believed they would turn out well. I belong on a
farm. I'm never lonesome here like I used to be in town. You remember
what sad spells I used to have, when I didn't know what was the matter
with me? I've never had them out here. And I don't mind work a bit, if I
don't have to put up with sadness.' She leaned her chin on her hand and
looked down through the orchard, where the sunlight was growing more and
more golden.

'You ought never to have gone to town, Tony,' I said, wondering at her.

She turned to me eagerly.

'Oh, I'm glad I went! I'd never have known anything about cooking or
housekeeping if I hadn't. I learned nice ways at the Harlings', and I've
been able to bring my children up so much better. Don't you think they
are pretty well-behaved for country children? If it hadn't been for
what Mrs. Harling taught me, I expect I'd have brought them up like wild
rabbits. No, I'm glad I had a chance to learn; but I'm thankful none of
my daughters will ever have to work out. The trouble with me was, Jim, I
never could believe harm of anybody I loved.'

While we were talking, Antonia assured me that she could keep me for the
night. 'We've plenty of room. Two of the boys sleep in the haymow till
cold weather comes, but there's no need for it. Leo always begs to sleep
there, and Ambrosch goes along to look after him.'

I told her I would like to sleep in the haymow, with the boys.

'You can do just as you want to. T