was in reality over two miles, but Jurgis made two trips that night,
each time with a huge pile of mattresses and bedding on his head, with
bundles of clothing and bags and things tied up inside. Anywhere else
in Chicago he would have stood a good chance of being arrested; but the
policemen in Packingtown were apparently used to these informal movings,
and contented themselves with a cursory examination now and then. It was
quite wonderful to see how fine the house looked, with all the things in
it, even by the dim light of a lamp: it was really home, and almost as
exciting as the placard had described it. Ona was fairly dancing, and
she and Cousin Marija took Jurgis by the arm and escorted him from room
to room, sitting in each chair by turns, and then insisting that he
should do the same. One chair squeaked with his great weight, and they
screamed with fright, and woke the baby and brought everybody running.
Altogether it was a great day; and tired as they were, Jurgis and Ona
sat up late, contented simply to hold each other and gaze in rapture
about the room. They were going to be married as soon as they could get
everything settled, and a little spare money put by; and this was to be
their home--that little room yonder would be theirs!

It was in truth a never-ending delight, the fixing up of this house.
They had no money to spend for the pleasure of spending, but there
were a few absolutely necessary things, and the buying of these was a
perpetual adventure for Ona. It must always be done at night, so that
Jurgis could go along; and even if it were only a pepper cruet, or half
a dozen glasses for ten cents, that was enough for an expedition. On
Saturday night they came home with a great basketful of things, and
spread them out on the table, while every one stood round, and the
children climbed up on the chairs, or howled to be lifted up to see.
There were sugar and salt and tea and crackers, and a can of lard and
a milk pail, and a scrubbing brush, and a pair of shoes for the second