With the birds singing, the trees budding and, “the green grass growing all around,” as we used to sing in school, who would not love the country and prefer farm life to any other? We are glad that so much…
Author: Laura Ingalls Wilder
Women’s Duty at the Polls
Now that women in Missouri have been given the right to vote for President of the United States and the prospect is good that they will be granted full franchise in the state, it will be interesting to observe how…
Happy Fourth of July
“The ‘Little House’ Books are stories of long ago. Today our way of living and our schools are much different. It has been many years since I beat eggs with a fork, or cleaned a kerosene lamp; many things have…
Happy Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving dinner was good. Pa had shot a wild goose for it. Ma had to stew the goose because there was no fireplace, and no oven in the little stove. But she made dumplings in the gravy. There were corn…
Boom!
Boom! Laura was jerked out of sleep. The bedroom was dark. Carrie asked in a thin, scared whisper, “What was that?” “Don’t be scared,” Laura answered. They listened. The window was hardly gray in the dark, but Laura could feel…
America’s King
The crowd was scattering away then, but Laura stood stock still. Suddenly she had a completely new thought. The Declaration and the song came together in her mind, and she thought: God is America’s king. She thought: Americans won’t obey…
Independence Day
“Father, how was it axes and plows that made this country? Didn’t we fight England for it?” “We fought for Independence, son,” Father said. “But all the land our forefathers had was a little strip of country, here between the…
More On Racism in Little House
The following comment came in from reader Shanti over the weekend, on Laura Welser’s post of May 6, 2009: “Should Little House Be Banned?” this is a late comment – I came here by way of a Google search on…
Happy Father’s Day
Ma made Pa’s Sunday shirts of calico. He wore a black silk tie, a coat and vest and pants. I can’t describe them. Seems as though all I ever saw of Pa was his face especially his eyes, his whiskers…
A Soft Answer…
Mrs. A. was angry. Her eyes snapped, her voice was shrill and a red flag of rage was flying upon each cheek. She expected opposition, and anger at the things she said but her remarks were answered in a soft…