rn for
supper, Nils. You used to like it. I guess you don't get much of that in
the old country. Here's Hilda; she'll take you up to your room. You'll
want to get the dust off you before you eat."

Mrs. Ericson went into the dining-room to lay another plate, and the
little girl came up and nodded to Nils as if to let him know that his
room was ready. He put out his hand and she took it, with a startled
glance up at his face. Little Eric dropped his towel, threw an arm about
Nils and one about Hilda, gave them a clumsy squeeze, and then stumbled
out to the porch.

During supper Nils heard exactly how much land each of his eight grown
brothers farmed, how their crops were coming on, and how much livestock
they were feeding. His mother watched him narrowly as she talked.
"You've got better looking, Nils," she remarked abruptly, whereupon he
grinned and the children giggled. Eric, although he was eighteen and as
tall as Nils, was always accounted a child, being the last of so many
sons. His face seemed childlike, too, Nils thought, and he had the open,
wandering eyes of a little boy. All the others had been men at his age.

After supper Nils went out to the front porch and sat down on the step
to smoke a pipe. Mrs. Ericson drew a rocking-chair up near him and began
to knit busily. It was one of the few Old World customs she had kept up,
for she could not bear to sit with idle hands.

"Where's little Eric, Mother?"

"He's helping Hilda with the dishes. He does it of his own will; I don't
like a boy to be too handy about the house."

"He seems like a nice kid."

"He's very obedient."

Nils smiled a little in the dark. It was just as well to shift the line
of conversation. "What are you knitting there, Mother?"

"Baby stockings. The boys keep me busy." Mrs. Ericson chuckled and
clicked her needles.

"How many grandchildren have you?"

"Only thirty-one now. Olaf lost his three. They were sickly, like their
mother."

"I supposed he had a second crop by this time!"

"His second wife has no children. She's too proud. She tears about on
horseback all the time. But she'll get caught up with, yet. She sets
herself very high, though nobody knows what for. They were low enough
Bohemians she came of. I never thought much of Bohemians; always
drinking."

Nils puffed away at his pipe in silence, and Mrs. Ericson knitted on. In
a few moments she added grimly: "She was down here tonight, just before
you came. She'd like t