Aunt Grenertsen was difficult to talk with—so contrary, somehow, even if not really cross, that it was very tiresome. She wasn’t the least bit like Uncle Isaac of Kingthorpe, who was always kind and gentle, always pleasant. Oh, dear, no! Aunt Grenertsen wasn’t like Uncle Isaac; far, far from it!,
“I just drifted. I followed the harvest westward and then I had a chance to take some cattle down to Colorado. It was about then I met Steve Whitney, and he gave me a job, and here I am.”,
Sang, in its bloom;.
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