Little House on the Prairie

A long time ago, when all the grandfathers and grandmothers of today were little boys and little girls, Pa and Ma and Mary and Laura and Baby Carrie left their little house in the Big Woods of Wisconsin.

The wagon went into the water, and Pa told the girls to lie down and be still. Laura felt the wagon float and swing, and she did not say a word until the horses pulled them up the far bank.

There was only the enormous, empty prairie, with grasses blowing in waves of light and shadow across it, and the great blue sky above it, and birds flying up from it and singing with joy because the sun was rising.

Pa cut the logs and notched the ends, and Ma helped him lift them one by one until the walls stood as high as his shoulders. Laura and Mary carried the small sticks and chinked the cracks with mud.

Mr. Scott went down into the well before Pa could stop him, and the bad air was waiting there. Pa said that after that no man went down until the candle had been let down first.

Mr. Edwards had swum the creek in flood water, holding his clothes and the presents above his head, so that Santa Claus could get to Laura and Mary on Christmas morning after all.

Pa lifted Laura up so she could see over the wall, and there in the moonlight sat the ring of wolves, so close that she could see their eyes and the fur ruffling on their shoulders.

They all lay burning and shaking with the fever, and no one could fetch water, until Dr. Tan came riding out of the prairie and stayed with them until they were well again.

Pa plowed a furrow around the house and set a backfire, and Ma and Laura beat out the flames with wet sacks while the great fire roared past on either side.

The soldiers were coming to put the settlers out of Indian Territory, and Pa said he would not wait to be taken away like an outlaw. In the morning the wagon rolled north, and the little house was left standing empty on the prairie.