“‘Just think, sister, of having no social barriers or stiff conventionalities to hamper one. No fussing to prepare elaborate toilets, no two-minute fashionable calls to make, no questioning as to what one shall wear. I am happy and well-dressed for any occasion in my pink gingham. It is a pretty gingham, and made up prettily, I assure you, as I made it myself. Then, we are all so well acquainted with one another, and call each other by the first names, and run about to each other’s houses whenever we please and stay as long as we please, and talk about our chickens and ponies, and—and—O Lissa, dear, you cannot realize what a free, wild life this is. And the air is so pure and invigorating.’�
“And there’s plenty of it,� interpolated Donald.
“Yes, too much, sometimes,� said Nathan.
“Now don’t, Nate! Don’t say a word to discourage me. If I were going to Kansas I should be afraid of cyclones, but I am sure we shall have none in Nebraska.�
“And if we should, you know we have the dug-out,� Nathan replied.
“I’d really advise you, Lissa, to arrange to sleep all the time in the dug-out. It would be so uncomfortable to wake up some morning and find yourself occupying some one else’s farm or tree-top,� said Donald.
Lissa smiled indulgently, but made no reply, and Nathan continued reading the letter.
CHAPTER VI
AN OLD-FASHIONED JOURNEY
“Put on your big sun hat and dust wrap,� Nathan had said, “we are to drive through a wild region much of the way and shall have plenty of dust and sun, besides you need have little fear of meeting acquaintances on our long path over the prairie.�
And Lissa had packed in big trunks, that were to be sent ahead of them by express, all the pretty dresses and hats which were so becoming to her, and reserved only the most serviceable costume for that season of the year. This she covered with an ample linen wrap, and tied a leghorn flat over her shining curls.