The last day came. Tomorrow Mary was going away. She would finally be able to go to the Iowa College for the Blind in Vinton, Iowa.

When I was a young girl, reading this chapter, it was sad and I just may have cried. Reading it as a mother, especially within the last ten years, it takes on a whole new meaning. Having sent both of my children off to college or apprenticeship has given me an appreciation for how Caroline Ingalls must have been feeling when sending her oldest daughter, her blind daughter, to a college far away. Of course, I have been blessed with the advantages of technology to keep in touch with my children easily and quickly, while Ma did not. And I cannot wrap my mind around that feeling.

Pa and Ma brought home a new trunk for Mary, which is carefully packed with all of her possessions. All of Mary’s belongings fit inside her trunk. And it is done. Reality is setting in for them all. The family seems a little lost already, just imagining the home without Mary. Grace begs for a story. I liked that Mary was telling Pa’s stories to Grace.

The summer meal that Ma plans, Mary’s last at home for a very long time – cottage cheese balls, with onions in them and cold creamed peas. Even though I don’t really like cottage cheese, this sounds so summery and divine to me. Ma sends Laura to the garden and Mary asks if she can go with her, for a little walk.

As they walk, Laura describes the sunset for Mary, in just the way that Mary likes it:

“The sun is sinking, Mary, into white downy clouds that spread to the edge of the world. All the tops of them are crimson, and streaming down from the top of the sky are great gorgeous curtains of rose and gold with pearly edges. They are a great canopy over the whole prairie. The little streaks of sky between them are clear, pure green.”

There are certain passages, in the Little House books, that I can never read through without tearing up. This last walk that Mary and Laura take together is one of them. To be honest, this is one of the most emotional chapters of all…for me.

These sisters who have always been together, not only sisters, but friends. What will one do without the other. Laura has been such a big part of Mary’s life, her eyes. What will she do without her? What will Laura do without Mary?

“The sun has gone through the white clouds. It is a huge, pulsing ball of liquid fire. The clouds above it are scarlet and crimson and gold and purple, and the great sweeps of cloud over the whole sky are burning flames.”

Will the sky and sunset be different in Iowa? Mary wonders.

Early the next morning, final preparations are being made for Ma and Pa and Mary to take the train to Iowa. A neighbor boy is taking them. Ma gives Laura, Carrie, and Grace final instructions for the week that they will spend alone on the claim.

Good-byes are said.

The wagon started. Grace’s mouth opened wide and she bawled.

I don’t know what kept them all from crying…

I certainly have cried my fair share during this chapter.

The wagon takes Pa, Ma, and Mary away leaving a silence and stillness behind. It was worse when they went into the house. Grace begins to cry again and Carrie’s eyes fill with tears. Laura knows that Ma is depending on her to be in charge. She makes a decision.

“Listen to me, Carrie and Grace,” she said briskly. “We are going to clean this house from top to bottom, and we’ll begin right now! So when Ma comes home, she’ll find the fall housecleaning done.”

They did just that! It was not easy. In fact, it was much harder than Laura could have imagined. It took them every minute of the full week that Pa and Ma were gone. But they got it done. They scrubbed that house from top to bottom. Laura finds that doing the cleaning and keeping track of Grace is not an easy task. A sudden rainstorm makes everything all the more difficult. When Grace decides to “help” by blacking the stove, Laura learns a valuable lesson in patience.

On Monday, after all the work was done, Laura, Carrie, and Grace sit outside in the grass watching for the smoke of the train. Finally they see it and hear the whistle. And finally they see Pa and Ma walking from town and all the lonesomeness for Mary came back.

Laura was happy for Mary when she found out how wonderful the college was. Mary would be warm and comfortable. The food was good and she was with a group of pleasant girls. The teachers were kind and Mary had passed the examinations with flying colors. She would study political economy, literature higher mathematics, sewing, knitting, beadwork, and music. Of course, Ma had seen no clothes finer than Mary’s.

In her sadness, missing Mary, Laura was more determined than ever to become a teacher so that Mary could stay in college.

With all of the excitement, Laura had forgotten about the week  they had spent doing the fall housecleaning.

Ma lifted her hands in surprise, then she sat weakly down and let her  hands fall. “My goodness!”

The next day, when Ma unpacks, she surprises Laura, Carrie, and Grace with gifts that she brought back from Vinton, Iowa. The girls were very pleased with their gifts – a picture book for Grace, and autograph albums for both Laura and Carrie.

“I found that autograph albums are all the fashion nowadays,” said Ma. “All the most fashionable girls in Vinton have them.”

Guest post by Teresa Lynn (aka TLynn)

This chapter begins with the same optimism found in the book so far, with the revelation that Mary is at long last going to be able to go to college in the fall.  Things have gone well for the Ingalls this year.  Pa earned nearly $100 from his carpentry work in town that spring, and their crops of oats and corn are growing well, along with the garden.

It seems there is always something to contend with on the prairie, however, and Laura and Mary encounter Spanish needle grass on their walk.  (I have experienced this myself, and it can feel like a bite.  You have to snip off the head and pull it through to remove it from your clothing.)   Luckily they didn’t notice much of  it while walking, so Pa can burn it out.

needlegrass

While enjoying a dinner of potatoes, peas, string beans, onions and tomatoes from the garden they discuss the bounty of the farm.  (Do any of you eat tomatoes with sugar and cream?  I love fresh tomatoes, but have not tried them this way.)  It seems that the Ingalls family will be well prepared this winter!  Then Ma mentions the oats – but Pa says the blackbirds are eating most of them.  Every time I read, “Ma’s cheerful faced dimmed,” I get a horrible feeling of foreboding – even though I know how everything turns out.

Pa seems undaunted, however, so plans for Mary carry on, with the preparation of her college wardrobe.

I have always wondered why the winter wool dress was so much more difficult for Ma than the others. “She had made the summer dresses first, for practice with the patterns.”  So it must have been at least a similar pattern.  For whatever reason, Ma seems to have trouble with this winter dress, and has to re-do seams several times.  Laura sees for the first time, by the way “her patience was so tight around her mouth,” that even Ma hates sewing.

In addition to the difficult pattern, they must decide whether to sew for hoops, or no hoops.  Ah, women and their fashion worries!  What will be in style next fall in Iowa?  There is no Godey’s Lady’s Book to be found, so they must improvise and make the dress suitable to wear either way.

Laura describes all the pretty clothes, including underwear, that they are making for Mary.  They put such pretty trim on them all.  Every time I read the description of the winter dress, it makes me wish I had one – and somewhere to wear it!  But after all the work on the dress, and re-sewing of seams, Mary can’t button it up!  Ma is in despair, but then Laura realizes that Mary’s corset strings have stretched. After pulling the strings tight, “the bodice buttoned, and it fitted beautifully.”  They do finally finish the sewing.

That evening, Pa shoots blackbirds.  Although no one likes this, they know that it is truly a fight for survival…them or the birds.  Still, when Laura goes to bring some roasting ears for dinner, blackbirds keept flying all around her.  She realizes that the blackbirds were eating the corn!  Laura tries to chase them away, but there are so many that she is no match for them.  Going to tell Pa about it, he says he shot a hundred or more and cleared them out of the oats.  He doesn’t seem too worried…until Laura asks, “Pa, if you don’t get a corn crop, can – can Mary go to college?”  Now Pa looks bleak.  After dinner, he tries to shoot them out of the corn, and they begin to recognize that the shooting was not what cleared the birds out of the oats; it was just that they had eaten all the oats!  Pa uses all his cartridges, and goes to town for more.  While he’s gone, Ma and the girls try to keep the birds away, but it’s no use.  Pa shoots blackbirds all evening, but more and more come.  Finally he brings in some of the birds he had shot.  “I never heard of anyone’s eating blackbirds,” he said, “but these must be good meat, and they’re as fat as butter.”  Ma responds with one of her practical axioms: “There’s no great loss without some small gain.”  The fried birds were delicious.

Pa finally gives up the corn crop for gone, and encourages Ma to make meals of birds and what corn they can salvage.  Laura and Carrie gathered several apronsful of ears, and they dry them for future use – an idea borrowed from the Indians, as Pa reminds Ma.

For dinner, there is blackbird pie – even better than chicken pie.  In addition, there is more bounty from the garden: new potatoes, peas, cucumbers, and carrots.  There is even cottage cheese and more tomatoes with sugar and cream.  “And the day was not even Sunday.”  Laura thinks, “Ma is right, there is always something to be thankful for.”  Still, she knows that the loss of the oats and the corn means that they will not have the funds for  Mary to go to college that year.  Her heart is heavy with disappointment.

But as Pa leaves the dinner table, he remarks that tomorrow, they will go pick out Mary’s trunk.  Even Mary gasps, showing that she also had given up the dream; and like her, with never a word of complaint.  Pa seems astonished that anyone had thought Mary might not go to college that fall after all.  He did not realize the girls would be worrying over money; but he already has a plan, to sell the heifer calf.  It is Mary who cries out, “Oh no! Not the heifer!”  It sets Pa back a year, but as Ma says, “We must cut our coat to fit our cloth,” and Pa remarks that “now we’ve made up our minds you’re going.  A flock of pesky blackbirds can’t stop us.”  And so the indomitable pioneer spirit carries them through another hurdle, and things are not as dark as it seemed they might become.

Due to an illness and a little scrambling of the chapter posts, I find myself with two chapters to cover in a row. I don’t mind, really I don’t! But I do know there were one or two readers who jumped into the Little Town read-along late and missed out because all of the chapters had been taken.

So…I would like to offer up Chapter 9: Blackbirds!

As it is the next chapter in the read-along, we would need it submitted to us within the next couple of days. Comment below if you don’t have a chapter yet, but would like to take this one.

The Fourth of July. Here in Michigan it’s hard to imagine the fourth of July. We’ve barely enjoyed any spring here and I’m having a hard time believing that it’ll ever be summer!

It started, very early, with a BOOM out on the Ingalls homestead claim though. Laura begins to paint a picture, with her words, of a day that is really celebrated in a way that honors our country.

Even the sun, as it rose shining into the clearest of skies, seemed to know this day was the glorious Fourth.

It seemed too special a day to be ordinary, but there would be no picnic without fried chicken.  Laura just feels that it needs to be celebrated though.

Laura throws out the dishwater, after breakfast and sees Pa looking at the oats. Everything is growing tall and lush and hearty. The garden is promising to feed them well and soon. It looks like things are looking up, which to me is one of the best things about Little Town on the Prairie. You can’t help but be happy.

Pa proposes taking a trip into town to enjoy the celebration that seems to be going on. Ma and Mary are happier to stay home on this day, but Laura and Carrie cannot get ready quickly enough.

I love how Laura says that Grace, when she demands to go along, is almost spoiled and her unruliness must be nipped in the bud. Pa sets her sternly in her chair. We never get to know Grace that well and I just thought it was special that they all spoiled her, just a little.

So Pa, Laura, and Carrie walk off toward town to enjoy this day that just needs to be celebrated. The girls just aren’t comfortable in the crowd though. They ask Pa if they can go into his store building so they can enjoy the celebrating from afar.  I wonder do they get chills just thinking of being huddled together during that long winter?

They tiptoe upstairs to the hot bedrooms where they can watch and talk freely until Pa comes back in with a treat of smoked herring to go with their bread and butter lunch that Ma sent with them. And firecrackers. The save some of the smoked herring for Ma and decide to save the firecrackers to take home so Grace can enjoy them too.

When they venture back outside, the American flag was fluttering in the breeze and a man was beside it. They stopped to listen to his speech. He talked about how America had won her freedom (which she still fights for to this day). I thought part of what is said is pertinent even today:

“Well, so here we are today,” the man went on. “Every man Jack of us a free and independent citizen of God’s country, the only country on earth where a man is free and independent. Today’s the Fourth of July, when this whole thing was started, and it ought to have a bigger, better celebration than this. We can’t do much this year. Most of us are out here trying to pull ourselves up by our own boot straps. By next year, likely some of us will be better off, and able to chip in for a real big rousing celebration of Independence Day. Meantime, here we are. It’s Fourth of July, and on this day somebody’s got to read the Declaration of Independence. It looks like I’m elected, so hold your hats, boys; I’m going to read it.

Laura and Carrie knew the Declaration of Independence by heart. How many could say that these days? And it meant something too. It gave them a solemn, glorious feeling to hear the words. When he was done, no one cheered. It was more of an “Amen” moment. There were really no words. When was the last time that we heard the Declaration recited on Independence Day, or any day really?

Pa begins to sing, and soon, everyone is singing:

My country, ’tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing…

Long may out land be bright
With Freedom’s holy light.
Protect us by Thy might,
Great God, our King!

And Laura had a thought. The Declaration and the song came together in her mind and she thought: God is America’s king. Americans are free. They have to obey their own consciences. This is what it means to be free.
“Our father’s God, author of liberty —”
The laws of Nature and of Nature’s God endow you with a right to life and liberty. Then you have to keep laws of God, for God’s law is the only thing that gives you a right to be free.

Laura had no more time to think about it. The others were urging her on. Lemonade! Such a treat, especially for Carrie who had never tasted it before.  But sharing the dipper with everyone in the whole town? I don’t think that fact bothered me until I was an adult.

On to the races! Laura liked the black pony with the coat that shone in the sunlight and a long mane and tail blowing silky on the breeze. “Go!” They were off!  It was the prettiest…but not the fastest.

The excitement of the race was about to get more exciting.

The buggy race was next. Laura hardly saw any of the other teams because she was struck with one team that she recognized.

“Oh, look, Carrie, look! It’s the brown Morgans!” She cried.

I think, for Laura, there were no other teams to look at after the Morgans (and their owner)  came onto the track. Even though he doesn’t stand a chance pulling his brother’s peddler’s wagon since he doesn’t have a buggy and (being the independent young cuss he is) he’d rather lose with what he’s got rather than win with a borrowed buggy.

Laura was truly heartbroken that Almanzo and the Morgans didn’t stand a chance, even crying out, “Oh, it isn’t fair!”

The race starts and the other teams, pulling their light buggies came fast, leaving the beautiful brown horses in the dust. Soon that peddler’s wagon, with the Morgans never breaking their trot, passed one buggy, then two.

Laura felt that her wishing was pulling them. And maybe it was.

There was no way they could win, but Laura kept wishing them on. “Faster, faster, only a little faster. Oh, come on, come on!”

Soon the Morgans caught up to Mr. Owen’s buggy with his bays and slowly, smoothly crept by it. They were at a tie, but not for long. While Mr. Owen used a whip on his horses, Almanzo leaned forward and seemed to be speaking to his beautiful horses. He needed no whip. Fast and smooth the Morgans passed the bays and won the race!

I love Laura’s emotion here:

Laura found that she had been holding her breath. Her knees were wobbly. She wanted to yell and to laugh and to cry and to sit down and rest.

She really had put a lot of wishing into helping Almanzo and those beautiful horses win!

Then Laura found out about the prize and was glad she hadn’t known that they were running for a five-dollar prize.

The day of celebration was coming to an end then. As they walked along Main Street, with Mr. Boast, Pa told him of the Wilder’s sister who was a schoolteacher back East in Minnesota. She had taken a claim near town and was interested in teaching the next winter.

Laura thought, “Maybe, If I am a very good scholar and if she likes me, maybe she might take me driving behind those beautiful horses. ”