Going To Town
How they hurried and scurried then! They dressed in their winter best, bundled up in coats and shawls, and climbed into the wagon. The sun shone bright and the frosty air nipped their noses. Sleet sparkled on the frozen-hard ground.
Pa was on the wagon seat, with Ma and Carrie snug beside him. Laura and Mary wrapped their shawls around each other and snuggled together on their blanket in the bottom of the wagon. Jack sat on the doorstep and watched them go; he knew they would come back soon.
Even Sam and David seemed to know that everything was all right, now that Pa was home again. They trotted gaily, till Pa said, “Whoa!” and hitched them to the hitching posts in front of Mr. Fitch’s store.
First, Pa paid Mr. Fitch part of the money he owed Mr. Fitch for the boards that built the house. Then, he paid for the flour and sugar that Mr. Nelson had brought to Ma while Pa was gone. Next, Pa counted the money that was left, and he and Ma bought Mary’s shoes.
The shoes were so new and shining on Mary’s feet that Laura felt it was not fair that Mary was the oldest. Mary’s old shoes would always fit Laura, and Laura would never have new shoes. Then Ma said, “Now, a dress for Laura.”
Laura hurried to Ma at the counter. Mr. Fitch was taking down bolts of beautiful woollen cloth.
The winter before, Ma had let out every tuck and seam in Laura’s winter dress. This winter it was very short, and there were holes in the sleeves where Laura’s elbows had gone through them because they were so tight. Ma had patched them neatly, and the patches did not show, but in that dress Laura felt skimpy and patched. Still, she had not dreamed of a whole new dress.
They looked at it, and Nellie asked, “Don’t you wish you had a fur cape, Laura? But your Pa couldn’t buy you one. Your Pa’s not a storekeeper.”
Laura dared not slap Nellie. She was so angry that she could not speak. She did turn her back, and Nellie went away laughing.
Ma was buying warm cloth to make a cloak for Carrie. Pa was buying navy beans and flour and cornmeal and salt and sugar and tea. Then he must get the kerosene-can filled, and stop at the post-office. It was after noon, and growing colder, before they left town, so Pa hurried Sam and David and they trotted swiftly all the way home.
After the dinner dishes were washed and put away, Ma opened the bundles and they all enjoyed looking their fill at the pretty dress-goods.
“I’ll make your dresses as quickly as I can, girls,” said Ma. “Because now that Pa is home we’ll all be going to Sunday school again.”
“Where’s that gray challis you got for yourself, Caroline?” Pa asked her. Ma flushed pink and her head bowed while Pa looked at her. “You mean to say you didn’t get it?” he said.
Ma flashed at him, “What about that new overcoat for yourself, Charles?”
Pa looked uncomfortable. “I know, Caroline,” he said. “But there won’t be any crops next year when those grasshopper eggs hatch, and it’s a long time till I can maybe get some work, next harvest. My old coat is good enough.”
“That’s just what I thought,” said Ma, smiling at him.
After supper, when night and lamplight came, Pa took his fiddle out of the box and tuned it lovingly.
“I have missed this,” he said, looking around at them all. Then he began to play. He played “When Johnnie Comes Marching Home.” He played “The sweet little girl, the pretty little girl, the girl I left behind me!” He played and sang “My Old Kentucky Home” and “Swanee River.” Then he played and they all sang with him,
“’Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.”
Chapter 31
Surprise
That was another mild winter without much snow. It was still grasshopper weather. But chill winds blew, the sky was gray, and the best place for little girls was in the cosy house.
Pa was gone outdoors all day. He hauled logs and chopped them into wood for the stove. He followed frozen Plum Creek far upstream where nobody lived, and set traps along the banks for muskrat and otter and mink.
Every morning Laura and Mary studied their books and worked sums on the slate. Every afternoon Ma heard their lessons. She said they were good little scholars, and she was sure that when they went to school again they would find they had kept up with their classes.
Every Sunday they went to Sunday school. Laura saw Nellie Oleson showing off her fur cape. She remembered what Nellie had said about Pa, and she burned hot inside. She knew that hot feeling was wicked. She knew she must forgive Nellie, or she would never be an angel. She thought hard about the pictures of beautiful angels in the big paper-covered Bible at home. But they wore long white nightgowns. Not one of them wore a fur cape.
One happy Sunday was the Sunday when the Reverend Alden came from eastern Minnesota to preach in this western church. He preached for a long time, while Laura looked at his soft blue eyes and watched his beard wagging. She hoped he would speak to her after church. And he did.
“Here are my little country girls, Mary and Laura!” he said. He remembered their names.
Laura was wearing her new dress that day. The skirt was long enough, and the sleeves were long, too. They made her coat sleeves look shorter than ever, but the red braid on the cuffs was pretty.