Farm life -- Fiction; Nebraska -- Fiction; Soldiers -- Fiction; War stories; World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction
Enid smiled indulgently. "Well, I suppose you'll let me have
clematis for the front porch, anyway? The men are getting ready
to leave, so we'd better see about the steps."
After the workmen had gone, Claude took the girls upstairs by the
ladder. They emerged from a little entry into a large room which
extended over both the front and back parlours. The carpenters
called it "the pool hall". There were two long windows, like
doors, opening upon the porch roof, and in the sloping ceiling
were two dormer windows, one looking north to the timber claim
and the other south toward Lovely Creek. Gladys at once felt a
singular pleasantness about this chamber, empty and unplastered
as it was. "What a lovely room!" she exclaimed.
Claude took her up eagerly. "Don't you think so? You see it's my
idea to have the second floor for ourselves, instead of cutting
it up into little boxes as people usually do. We can come up here
and forget the farm and the kitchen and all our troubles. I've
made a big closet for each of us, and got everything just right.
And now Enid wants to keep this room for preachers!"
Enid laughed. "Not only for preachers, Claude. For Gladys, when
she comes to visit us--you see she likes it--and for your mother
when she comes to spend a week and rest. I don't think we ought
to take the best room for ourselves."
"Why not?" Claude argued hotly. "I'm building the whole house for
ourselves. Come out on the porch roof, Gladys. Isn't this fine
for hot nights? I want to put a railing round and make this into
a balcony, where we can have chairs and a hammock."
Gladys sat down on the low window-sill. "Enid, you'd be foolish
to keep this for a guest room. Nobody would ever enjoy it as much
as you would. You can see the whole country from here."
Enid smiled, but showed no sign of relenting. "Let's wait and
watch the sun go down. Be careful, Claude. It makes me nervous to
see you lying there."
He was stretched out on the edge of the roof, one leg hanging
over, and his head pillowed on his arm. The flat fields turned
red, the distant windmills flashed white, and little rosy clouds
appeared in the sky above them.
"If I make this into a balcony," Claude murmured, "the peak of
the roof will always throw a shadow over it in the afternoon, and
at night the stars will be right overhead. It will be a fine
place to sleep in harvest time."
"Oh, you could always come up here to sleep on a hot night," Enid
said quickly.
"It wouldn't be the same."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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