The crazy boy, seeing the food, began to make soft, gurgling noises and
stroked his stomach. Jake came in again, this time with a sack of
potatoes. Grandmother looked about in perplexity.
"Have n't you got any sort of cave or cellar outside, Antonia? This is no
place to keep vegetables. How did your potatoes get frozen?"
"We get from Mr. Bushy, at the post-office,--what he throw out. We got no
potatoes, Mrs. Burden," Tony admitted mournfully.
When Jake went out, Marek crawled along the floor and stuffed up the
door-crack again. Then, quietly as a shadow, Mr. Shimerda came out from
behind the stove. He stood brushing his hand over his smooth gray hair, as
if he were trying to clear away a fog about his head. He was clean and
neat as usual, with his green neckcloth and his coral pin. He took
grandmother's arm and led her behind the stove, to the back of the room.
In the rear wall was another little cave; a round hole, not much bigger
than an oil barrel, scooped out in the black earth. When I got up on one
of the stools and peered into it, I saw some quilts and a pile of straw.
The old man held the lantern. "Yulka," he said in a low, despairing voice,
"Yulka; my Antonia!"
Grandmother drew back. "You mean they sleep in there,--your girls?" He
bowed his head.
Tony slipped under his arm. "It is very cold on the floor, and this is
warm like the badger hole.
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