A Daughter of the Land - Page 172/249

For a week, Kate lay so dazed she did not care whether she lived

or died; then she slowly crept back to life, realizing that

whether she cared or not, she must live. She was too young, too

strong, to quit because she was soul sick; she had to go on. She

had life to face for herself and her children. She wondered dully

about her people, but as none of the neighbours who had taken care

of her said anything concerning them, she realized that they had

not been there. At first she was almost glad. They were

forthright people. They would have had something to say; they

would have said it tersely and to the point.

Adam, 3d, had wound up her affairs speedily by selling the logs he

had bought for her to the Hartley mills, paying what she owed, and

depositing the remainder in the Hartley Bank to her credit; but

that remainder was less than one hundred dollars. That winter was

a long, dreadful nightmare to Kate. Had it not been for Aunt

Ollie, they would have been hungry some of the time; they were

cold most of it. For weeks Kate thought of sending for her

mother, or going to her; then as not even a line came from any of

her family, she realized that they resented her losing that much

Bates money so bitterly that they wished to have nothing to do

with her. Often she sat for hours staring straight before her,

trying to straighten out the tangle she had made of her life. As

if she had not suffered enough in the reality of living, she now

lived over in day and night dreams, hour by hour, her time with

George Holt, and gained nothing thereby.

All winter Kate brooded, barely managing to keep alive, and the

children in school. As spring opened, she shook herself, arose,

and went to work. It was not planned, systematic, effective,

Bates work. Piecemeal she did anything she saw needed the doing.

The children helped to make garden and clean the yard. Then all

of them went out to Aunt Ollie's and made a contract to plant and

raise potatoes and vegetables on shares. They passed a neglected

garden on the way, and learning that the woman of the house was

ill, Kate stopped and offered to tend it for enough cords of

windfall wood to pay her a fair price, this to be delivered in

mid-summer.

With food and fire assured, Kate ripped up some of George's

clothing, washed, pressed, turned, and made Adam warm clothes for

school. She even achieved a dress for Polly by making a front and

back from a pair of her father's trouser legs, and setting in side

pieces, a yoke and sleeves from one of her old skirts. George's

underclothing she cut down for both of the children; then drew

another check for taxes and second-hand books. While she was in

Hartley in the fall paying taxes, she stopped at a dry goods store

for thread, and heard a customer asking for knitted mittens, which

were not in stock. After he had gone, she arranged with the

merchant for a supply of yarn which she carried home and began to

knit into mittens such as had been called for. She used every

minute of leisure during the day, she worked hours into the night,

and soon small sums began coming her way. When she had a supply of

teamster's heavy mittens, she began on fancy coloured ones for

babies and children, sometimes crocheting, sometimes using

needles. Soon she started both children on the rougher work with

her. They were glad to help for they had a lively remembrance of

one winter of cold and hunger, with no Christmas. That there were

many things she might have done that would have made more money

with less exertion Kate never seemed to realize. She did the

obvious thing. Her brain power seemed to be on a level with that

of Adam and Polly.