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Singing together was even better than talking. Ida was such a dear, Laura thought, as they stood side by side holding the hymn book open before them.
“Here first my willful, wandering heart
The way of life was shown;
Here first I sought the better part
And gained a Sabbath home.”
Clear and sure, Laura’s voice held the note while Ida’s soft alto chimed, “Sabbath home.” Then their voices blended again,
“My heart e’er turns with joy to thee,
My own dear Sabbath home.”
Sunday School was the pleasant part of church. Though they could talk only to the teacher about the lesson, Ida and Laura could smile at each other and sing together. When Sunday School ended, there was only time to say, “Good-by. Good-by.” Then Ida must sit with Mrs. Brown in the front seat while Reverend Brown preached one of his long, stupid sermons.
Laura and Carrie went to sit with Pa and Ma and Grace. Laura made sure that she remembered the text, to repeat at home when Pa asked her; then she need not listen any more. She always missed Mary in church. Mary had always sat so properly beside her, watchful that Laura behaved. It was strange to think that they had been little girls, and now Mary was in college and Laura was a schoolteacher. She tried not to think of Mrs. Brewster’s, and of school. After all, Mary had gone to college and now Laura was earning forty dollars; with forty dollars, Mary could surely stay in college next year. Maybe everything comes out all right, if you keep on trying. Anyway, you have to keep on trying; nothing will come out right if you don’t. “If I can only manage Clarence for seven weeks more,” Laura thought.
Carrie pinched her arm. Everyone was standing up, to sing the Doxology. Church was over.
Dinner was so good. Ma’s baked beans were delicious, and the bread and butter and little cucumber pickles, and everyone was so comfortable, so cheerful and talking. Laura said, “Oh, I do like it here!”
“It’s too bad that Brewster’s isn’t a better place to stay,” said Pa.
“Why, Pa, I haven’t complained,” Laura said in surprise.
“I know you haven’t,” said Pa. “Well, keep a stiff upper lip; seven weeks will soon be gone, and you’ll be home again.”
How pleasant it was, after the dishes were done, when they were all settled in the front room for Sunday afternoon. Sunshine streamed through the clean windows into the warm room, where Ma sat gently rocking, and Carrie and Grace pored over the pictures in Pa’s big green book, The Wonders of the Animal World. Pa read items from the Pioneer Press to Ma, and at his desk Laura sat writing a letter to Mary. Carefully with Ma’s little pearl-handled pen that was shaped like a feather, she wrote of her school and her pupils. Of course she wrote of nothing unpleasant. The clock ticked, and now and then Kitty lazily stretched and purred a short purr.
When the letter was finished, Laura went upstairs and packed her clean clothes in Ma’s satchel. She brought it downstairs and into the front room. It must be time to go, but Pa sat reading his paper and took no notice.
Ma looked at the clock and said gently, “Charles, surely you must hitch up, or you’ll be late starting. It’s a long way to go and come, and dark comes early nowadays.”
Pa only turned a page of the paper and said, “Oh, there’s no hurry.”
Laura and Ma looked at each other in amazement. They looked at the clock, and again at Pa. He did not stir, but his brown beard had a smiling look. Laura sat down.
The clock ticked, and Pa silently read the paper. Twice Ma almost spoke, and changed her mind. At last, not looking up, Pa said, “Some folks worry about my team.”
“Why, Charles! There isn’t anything wrong with the horses?” Ma exclaimed.
“Well,” said Pa. “They’re not as young as they used to be, for a fact. They can still hold out pretty well, though, for twelve miles and back.”
“Charles,” Ma said helplessly.
Pa looked up at Laura and his eyes were twinkling. “Maybe I don’t have to drive ’em so far,” he said. Sleigh bells were coming down the street. Clearer and louder they came; then rang all at once and stopped by the door. Pa went to the door and opened it.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Ingalls,” Laura heard Almanzo Wilder say. “I stopped by to see if Laura would let me drive her out to her school.”
“Why, I’m sure she’d like a ride in that cutter,” Pa replied.
“It’s getting late, and too cold to tie ’em without blanketing,” Almanzo said. “I’ll drive down the street and stop on my way back.”
“I’ll tell her,” Pa answered, and shut the door while the bells jingled away. “How about it, Laura?”
“It is fun to ride in a cutter,” Laura said. Quickly she tied on her hood and got into her coat. The bells were coming; she had hardly time to say good-by before they stopped at the door.
