He thought
the future looked hopeful for them. Ambrosch was a far-seeing fellow; he
soon realized that his oxen were too heavy for any work except breaking
sod, and he succeeded in selling them to a newly arrived German. With the
money he bought another team of horses, which grandfather selected for
him. Marek was strong, and Ambrosch worked him hard; but he could never
teach him to cultivate corn, I remember. The one idea that had ever got
through poor Marek's thick head was that all exertion was meritorious. He
always bore down on the handles of the cultivator and drove the blades so
deep into the earth that the horses were soon exhausted.
In June Ambrosch went to work at Mr. Bushy's for a week, and took Marek
with him at full wages. Mrs. Shimerda then drove the second cultivator;
she and Antonia worked in the fields all day and did the chores at night.
While the two women were running the place alone, one of the new horses
got colic and gave them a terrible fright.
Antonia had gone down to the barn one night to see that all was well
before she went to bed, and she noticed that one of the roans was swollen
about the middle and stood with its head hanging. She mounted another
horse, without waiting to saddle him, and hammered on our door just as we
were going to bed. Grandfather answered her knock. He did not send one of
his men, but rode back with her himself, taking a syringe and an old piece
of carpet he kept for hot applications when our horses were sick.
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