1 The sun had set when we reached our garden and went down the draw toward the house.
2 When he was out hunting, he used to go into the empty log house and sit there, brooding.
3 It was growing dark when we got to their house, but I refused to go in with them and get warm.
4 The Russians had a neat log house built on a grassy slope, with a windlass well beside the door.
5 It was belong to a great man, very rich, like what you not got here; many fields, many forests, many big house.
6 The little house on the hillside was so much the colour of the night that we could not see it as we came up the draw.
7 Misfortune seemed to settle like an evil bird on the roof of the log house, and to flap its wings there, warning human beings away.
8 The garden, curiously enough, was a quarter of a mile from the house, and the way to it led up a shallow draw past the cattle corral.
9 There were no screens or window-blinds in the house, and all the doors and windows stood wide open, letting in flies and sunshine alike.
10 One afternoon Antonia and her father came over to our house to get buttermilk, and lingered, as they usually did, until the sun was low.
11 It was dug out under the wing of the house, was plastered and cemented, with a stairway and an outside door by which the men came and went.
12 One day when I rode over to the Shimerdas' I found Antonia starting off on foot for Russian Peter's house, to borrow a spade Ambrosch needed.
13 North of the house, inside the ploughed fire-breaks, grew a thick-set strip of box-elder trees, low and bushy, their leaves already turning yellow.
14 But they were so glad to get away from their ugly cave and their mother's scolding that they begged me to go on and on, as far as Russian Peter's house.
15 Our white frame house, with a storey and half-storey above the basement, stood at the east end of what I might call the farmyard, with the windmill close by the kitchen door.
16 Once, while he was looking at Antonia, he sighed and told us that if he had stayed at home in Russia perhaps by this time he would have had a pretty daughter of his own to cook and keep house for him.
17 I did not see him do it, but this I know: after all his furniture and his cookstove and pots and pans had been hauled off by the purchasers, when his house was stripped and bare, he sat down on the floor with his clasp-knife and ate all the melons that he had put away for winter.
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