Not that Mr. Gaynor was given to these festivities. He would go over to the Tremont or to Baubein's and listen to the talk, now and then putting in some shrewd remark or a bit of humor, and often caught an idea that he saved up for future consideration, and when the time came used it and made a success of it.
"All this talk doesn't bother me," he would say dryly. "New land's the place for fine crops. To the eastward you have to pick stones until you feel as if you had a ball and chain to your leg. Land's getting worn out, too. Some day they'll have to come to us for bread. They can't farm and manufacture at the same time, and they're just besotted on building towns and calling in people to work in factories. All well enough for those who like it, but these people will all have to be fed and some one will have to raise the stuff."
He was a typical Yankee for barter. He always had something the neighbors wanted, or could give assistance when it was most needed and take it out in something else, for there really was no money. He raised excellent stock. He looked at a thing, a pig or a pile of boards, or even a bit of land, squinting up one eye, and saw its good points at once. And he managed to keep on the right side of every one.
So I spent half my time at the Gaynors', mother said. Dan was a gay young chap in great demand with the girls, ready for any frolic, and already was the owner of a fine horse that he was very generous with when he had time to drive, and the girls were ready to tear each other half to pieces for the chance.
"I jest wish he'd settle down to one," mother would say complainingly. "There's no look when a fellow's butterflyin' round. He ain't like a bee who has some sense, but jest goes from flower to flower, an' that's the way with Dan. I ain't no ways anxious to have Polly Morrison for a daughter, but I did settle upon it a while ago, an' now it's Betty Hale, but it does seem as if some girl might catch him an' sober him down. He's smart to earn, but he'll never be forehanded until some woman gets hold of the purse strings."
Early marriages were quite in vogue, the general trend of new countries.
I did not have to consider the point, for twenty-one was early enough. And I was more interested in books than girls in general. I was not much of a dancer, and I think I was a little afraid of the quick, saucy retorts of the girls. I liked the sledding parties in winter and the skating. We even navigated about on snow shoes, and it was very exhilarating when there was a sharp crust frozen over the snow. On clear moonlight nights there was an indescribable splendor in the far sparkling reaches, whose only limit seemed the boundary of the blue sky, studded with brilliant gems of all colors, it seemed at such times, and changing, as if no settled tint predominated, as the air went waving among them, driving a flock here as if they were birds of mystery, then confronted by some daring immovable fixed star. I used to stand in silent wonder, they were so marvellous.
"And to think that heaven is behind them all," the Little Girl would say with grave eyes.
We were a good deal troubled with wolves and now and then there was a regular hunt. Dan was always delighted with such adventures. Some more valuable animals were captured as well.
But spring came on amain, and curiously enough, business seemed stirring up in spite of hard times and money disturbances. The people of Chicago were workers. They began to look after the streets a little, to straighten the houses that had been set in every fashion, and though there did not seem much of promise to call them thither, emigrants were arriving nearly every day in all sorts of vehicles, and of several nationalities. The French had quite a little settlement to themselves, Germans began to look for outlying farms, some had already bought Government land. There were still Indian wigwams, in which squaws labored and pappooses abounded.