who had been reared himself, and had reared his children in turn, upon
half a dozen acres of cleared land in the midst of a wilderness. There
had been one son besides Jurgis, and one sister. The former had been
drafted into the army; that had been over ten years ago, but since that
day nothing had ever been heard of him. The sister was married, and her
husband had bought the place when old Antanas had decided to go with his
son.

It was nearly a year and a half ago that Jurgis had met Ona, at a
horse fair a hundred miles from home. Jurgis had never expected to get
married--he had laughed at it as a foolish trap for a man to walk into;
but here, without ever having spoken a word to her, with no more than
the exchange of half a dozen smiles, he found himself, purple in the
face with embarrassment and terror, asking her parents to sell her to
him for his wife--and offering his father's two horses he had been sent
to the fair to sell. But Ona's father proved as a rock--the girl was yet
a child, and he was a rich man, and his daughter was not to be had in
that way. So Jurgis went home with a heavy heart, and that spring and
summer toiled and tried hard to forget. In the fall, after the harvest
was over, he saw that it would not do, and tramped the full fortnight's
journey that lay between him and Ona.

He found an unexpected state of affairs--for the girl's father had died,
and his estate was tied up with creditors; Jurgis' heart leaped as he
realized that now the prize was within his reach. There was Elzbieta
Lukoszaite, Teta, or Aunt, as they called her, Ona's stepmother, and
there were her six children, of all ages. There was also her brother
Jonas, a dried-up little man who had worked upon the farm. They were
people of great consequence, as it seemed to Jurgis, fresh out of the
woods; Ona knew how to read, and knew many other things that he did