way to the Shimerdas'. The news of what had
happened over there had somehow got abroad
through the snow-blocked country. Grand-
mother gave the visitors sugar-cakes and hot
coffee. Before these callers were gone, the
brother of the Widow Steavens, who lived on
the Black Hawk road, drew up at our door,
and after him came the father of the German
family, our nearest neighbors on the south.
They dismounted and joined us in the dining-
room. They were all eager for any details
about the suicide, and they were greatly con-
cerned as to where Mr. Shimerda would be
buried. The nearest Catholic cemetery was
at Black Hawk, and it might be weeks before a
wagon could get so far. Besides, Mr. Bushy
and grandmother were sure that a man who
had killed himself could not be buried in a
Catholic graveyard. There was a burying-
ground over by the Norwegian church, west
of Squaw Creek; perhaps the Norwegians
would take Mr. Shimerda in.

After our visitors rode away in single file
over the hill, we returned to the kitchen.
Grandmother began to make the icing for a
chocolate cake, and Otto again filled the house
with the exciting, expectant song of the plane.

[[126]]

p125 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p126w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p127

v?