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“Good-by, then, till next Sunday,” Almanzo said, as he left her at her door. The whole country seemed different to her, now that she had seen Lakes Henry and Thompson, and Spirit Lake with its strange Indian mound. She wondered what next Sunday would show.
Sunday afternoon as she watched the buggy coming across Big Slough she saw, to her surprise, that someone was with Almanzo. She wondered who it could be, and if perhaps he did not intend to go for a drive that day.
When the horses stopped at the door, she saw that Nellie Oleson was with him. Without waiting for him to speak, Nellie cried, “Come on, Laura! Come with us for a buggy ride!”
“Want some help, Wilder?” Pa asked, going toward the colts’ heads, and Almanzo said that he would be obliged. So Pa held the bridles, while Almanzo waited to help Laura into the buggy, and in stupefied surprise Laura let him. Nellie moved over to make room for her, and helped her tuck the lap robe around the brown poplin.
As they drove away, Nellie began to talk. She admired the buggy; she exclaimed over the colts; she praised Almanzo’s driving; she gushed about Laura’s clothes. “Oh,” she said, “Laura, your poke bonnet is just utterly too-too!” She never stopped for an answer. She did so want to see Lakes Henry and Thompson; she had heard so much about them; she thought the weather was just utterly too-too, and the country was nice, of course not anything like New York State, but that couldn’t really be expected out west, could it?
“Why are you so quiet, Laura?” she asked wit
hout stopping and went on, with a giggle, “My tongue wasn’t made to lie still. My tongue’s made to go flippity-flop!”
Laura’s head ached; her ears rang with the continuous babble, and she was furious. Almanzo seemed to be enjoying the drive. At least, he looked as though he were being amused.
They drove to Lakes Henry and Thompson. They drove along the narrow tongue of land between them. Nellie thought the lakes were just utterly too-too; she liked lakes, she liked water, she liked trees and vines, and she just adored driving on Sunday afternoons; she thought it was just too utterly too-too.
The sun was rather low as they came back, and since Laura’s house was nearest, they stopped there first.
“I’ll be along next Sunday,” Almanzo said as he helped Laura out of the buggy, and before Laura could speak, Nellie chimed in, “Oh, yes! we will come by for you. Didn’t you have a good time! Wasn’t it fun! Till Sunday, then, don’t forget, we’ll be by, good-by, Laura, good-by!” Almanzo and Nellie drove away toward town.
All that week Laura debated with herself, to go or not to go. It was no pleasure to her to go driving with Nellie. On the other hand, if she refused to go, Nellie would be pleased; that was what Nellie wanted. Trust Nellie to find some way to go driving with Almanzo every Sunday.
Laura made up her mind to go with them.
Next Sunday’s drive began much like the one before. Nellie’s tongue went flippity-flop. She was in gay spirits, chattering and laughing to Almanzo and almost ignoring Laura. She was sure of triumph, for she knew that Laura would not long endure this situation.
“Oh, Mannie, you have those wild colts so well broken, you handle them so wonderfully,” she cooed, leaning against Almanzo’s arm.
Laura bent to tuck the dust robe more closely in at her feet, and as she straightened up again, she carelessly let the end of the robe flutter out on the strong prairie wind. The colts left the ground in one leap and ran.
Nellie screamed and screamed, clutching at Almanzo’s arm, which he very much needed to use just then. Laura quietly tucked down the end of the lap robe and sat on it.
When it was no longer flapping behind them, the colts soon quieted and went on in their well-trained trot.
“Oh, I never was so frightened, I never was so frightened in my life,” Nellie chattered and gasped. “Horses are such wild things. Oh, Mannie, why did they do it? Don’t let them do it again.”
Almanzo looked sidewise at Laura and said nothing.
“Horses are all right if you understand them,” Laura remarked. “But I suppose these are not like the horses in New York.”
“Oh, I would never understand these western horses. New York horses are quiet,” Nellie said, and then she started talking of New York. She talked as though she knew it well. Laura knew nothing of New York State, but she knew that Nellie did not, either, and that Almanzo did.
They were nearing the turn toward home when Laura said, “We are so near the Boasts’. Don’t you think it would be nice to go see them?”
“If you like,” said Almanzo. Instead of turning west, he drove straight on north across the railroad tracks and farther out across the prairie to Mr. Boast’s homestead claim. Mr. and Mrs. Boast came out to the buggy.
“Well, well, so the buggy carries three,” Mr. Boast teased, his black eyes sparkling. “It’s a wider seat than the cutter seat. The cutter was built for two.”
“Buggies are different,” Laura told him.
“They seem…” Mr. Boast began, but Mrs. Boast interrupted. “Now, Rob!” she exclaimed. “You’d better be asking the folks to get out and stay awhile.”
“We can’t stay,” Laura said. “We only stopped for a minute.”
“We are just out for a drive,” Almanzo explained.
“Then we will turn around here,” Nellie said with authority.
