Little House on the Prairie
by Laura Ingalls Wilder
(New York: Harper Trophy, 2004)
Kansas was an endless flat land covered with tall grass blowing in the wind … There was nothing new to do and nothing new to look at.
Page 13.
Two faint wheel tracks kept going away behind the wagon, always the same.
Page 14.
Laura stood up and held to one of the wagon bows. Far ahead she saw a low dark smudge. “That’s trees,” Pa said. “You can tell by the shape of the shadows. In this country, trees mean water. That’s where we’ll camp tonight.”
Page 15.
No road, not even the faintest trace of wheels or of a rider’s passing, could be seen anywhere. That prairie looked as if no human eye had ever seen it before. Only the tall wild grass covered the endless empty land and a great empty sky arched over it. Far away the sun’s edge touched the rim of the earth.
Page 26.
Picket-lines were long ropes fastened to iron pegs driven into the ground. The pegs were called picket-pins. When horses were on picket-lines they could eat all the grass that the long ropes would let them reach.
Page 28.
They could not drink coffee until they grew up.
Page 31.
Far away on the prairie the wolves howled, and under the wagon Jack growled low in his chest. In the wagon everything was safe and snug.
Page 37.
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. And on the whole enormous prairie there was no sign that any other human being had ever been there.
Pages 40-41.
Mary and Laura were exploring. They must not go far from the wagon, but it was fun to run through the tall grass, in the sunshine and wind.
Page 43.
Pa had word from a man in Washington that the Indian Territory would be open to settlement soon. It might already be open to settlement. They could not know, because Washington was so far away.
Page 47.
All around them, to the very edge of the world, there was nothing but grasses waving in the wind. Far overhead, a few white puffs of cloud sailed in the thin blue air.
Pages 47-48.
The wind sang a low, rustling song int eh grass. Grasshoppers’ rasping quivered up from the immense prairie.
Page 48.
Early next morning, Mr. Edwards came. He was lean and tall and brown. He bowed to Ma and called her “Ma’am,” politely. But he told Laura that he was a wildcat from Tennessee. He wore tall boots and a ragged jumper, and a coonskin cap, and he cold spit tobacco juice farther than Laura had ever imagined that anyone could spit tobacco juice. He could hit anything he spit at, too. Laura tried and tried, but she could never spit so far or so well as Mr. Edwards could.
Page 63.
The sweet smell of the prairie mixed with the sweet smell of cut wood.
Page 64.
Because this was a company supper they did not sweeten their coffee with molasses. Ma brought out the little paper sack of pale-brown store sugar.
Page 65.
She liked the enormous sky and the winds, and the lang that you couldn’t see to the end of. Everything was so free and big and splendid.
Page 75.
Pa and Ma talked about the folks in Wisconsin, and Ma wished she could send them a letter. But Independence was forty miles away, and no letter could go until Pa made the long trip to the post-office.
Page 76.
They could feel the dark all around them, and they kept looking behind them at the place where the dark mixed with the edge of the firelight. Shadows moved there, as if they were alive.
Page 86.
The house was safe, but it did not feel safe because Pa’s gun was not over the door.
Page 94.
“A man doesn’t need nails to build a house or make a door.”
Page 100.
If you wanted to come in, you pulled the latch-string. But if you were inside and wanted to keep anyone out, then you pulled the latch-string in through its hole ad nobody could get in. there was no doorknob on that door, and there was no keyhole and no key. But it was a good door.
Pages 104-105.
When neighbors began to come into t country, it was best to lock up your horses at night, because where there are deer there will be wolves, and where there are horses, there will be horse-thieves.
Page 106.
All along the road the wild larkspur was blossoming pink and blue and white, birds balanced on yellow plumes of goldenrod, and butterflies were fluttering. Starry daisies lighted the shadows under trees, squirrels chattered on branches overhead, white-tailed rabbits hopped along the road, and snakes wriggled quickly across it when they heard the wagon coming.
Page 109.
Laura liked the High Prairie best. The prairie was so wide and sweet and clean.
Page 113.
Outside, and far, far away to the pink edge of the sky, the wind went blowing and the wild grasses waved.
Page 119.
She did not say anything, because children must not speak at table until they are spoken to.
Page 119.
Ma said snakes were best left alone, because some snakes would bite, and it was getter to be safe than sorry.
Page 121.
Laura’s sunbonnet hung down her back. She pulled it up by its strings, and its sides came past her cheeks. When her sunbonnet was on she could see only what was in front of her, and that was why she was always pushing it back and letting it hang by its strings tied around her throat.
Page 123.
This was Indian country and she didn’t know why she didn’t see Indians. She knew she would see them sometime, though. Pa said so, but she was getting tired of waiting.
Page 123.
|I don’t like to be beholden, not even to the gest of neighbors.”
Page 124.
The fire on the hearth was pleasant, for on the High Prairie even the summer nights were cool.
Page 131.
She looked over her shoulder, where Jack was looking, and she saw two naked, wild men coming, one behind the other, on the Indian trail.
“Mary! Look!” she cried. Mary looked and saw them, too.
They were tall, thin, fierce-looking men. Their skin was brownish-red. Their heads seemed to go up to a peak, and the peak was a tuft of hair that stood straight up and ended in feathers. Their eyes were black and still and glittering, like snake’s eyes.
Page 134.
The sunshine was blistering, even the winds were hot, and the prairie grasses were turning yellow. Mary preferred to stay in the house and sew on her patchwork quilt. But Laura liked the fierce light and the sun and the wind.
Page 151.
The herds were so near now that Laura could hear them plainly. The mournful lowing sounded over the prairie till the night was dark. Then the cattle were quieter and the cowboys began to sing. Their songs were not like lullabies. They were high, lonely, wailing songs, almost like the howling of wolves.
Page 165.
Overhead the sky was big and still and full of moonlight.
Page 166.
Laura wished she could be a cowboy.
Page 167.
Pa always laughed out loud and his laugh was like great bells ringing. When Ma was pleased she smiled a gentle smile that made Laura feel warm all over.
Page 168.
The dark was coming on. Nighthawks were chasing insects in the dark air. Bullfrogs were croaking in the creek bottoms. A bird called “Whip! Whip! Whip-poor-Will!” “Who? Whooo?” said an owl. Far away the wolves howled, and Jack was growling.
Page 170.
Day after day was hotter than the day before. The wind was hot. “As if it came out of an oven,” Ma said.
The grass was turning yellow. The whole world was rippling green and gold under the blazing sky.
Page 172.
The ground was hot under their bare feet. The sunshine pierced through their faded dressed and tingled on their arms and backs. The air was really as hot as the air in an oven, and it smelled faintly like baking bread. Pa said the smell came from all the grass seeds parching in the heat.
Page 174.
The prairie seemed to be level, but it was not level.
Page 175.
In the daytime there were only one or two mosquitoes in the house. But at night, if the wind wasn’t blowing hard, mosquitoes came in thick swarms. On still nights Pa kept piles of damp grass burning all around the house and stable. The damp grass made a smudge of smoke, to keep the mosquitoes away. But a good many mosquitoes came anyway.
Page 184.
No one knew, in those days, that fever ‘n’ ague was malaria, and that some mosquitos give it to people when they bite them.
Page 198.
The prairie had changed. Now it was a dark yellow, almost grown, and red streaks of sumac lay across it. The wind wailed in the tan grass, and it whispered sadly across the curly, short buffalo grass. At night the wind sounded like someone crying.
Page 199.
Outdoors was too large and empty to play in when Pa was away.
Page 208.
She said she hoped to goodness they would have no trouble with Indians. Mr. Scott had heard rumors of trouble. She said, “Land knows, they’d never do anything with this country themselves. All they do is roam around over it like wild animals. Treaties or no treaties, the land belongs to folks that’ll farm it. That’s only common sense and justice.”
Page 211.
The wind had a strange, wild howl in it, and it went through Laura’s clothes as if they clothes weren’t there. Her teeth and Mary’s teeth chattered while they carried many armfuls of wood into the house.
Page 212.
Everything was all right. The house was cozy with firelight, there was the warm, brown smell of coffee Ma was smiling, and Pa was there.
Pages 220-221.
Everything was all right when Pa was there.
Page 225.
“I declare, Indians are getting so thick around here that I can’t look up without seeing one.”
As she spoke she looked up, and there stood an Indian. He stood in the doorway, looking at them, and they had not heard a sound.
Page 227.
Winter was coming now. The grasses were a dull color under a dull sky. The winds wailed as if they were looking for something they could not find. Wild animals were wearing their thick winter fur.
Pages 231-232.
All the time the wind blew, shrieking, howling, wailing screaming, and mournfully sobbing. They were used to hearing the wind. All day they heard it, and at night in their sleep they knew it was blowing.
Page 255.
Spring had come. The warm winds smelled exciting, and all outdoors was large and bright and sweet. Big white shining clouds floated high up in clear space. Their shadows floated over the prairie. The shadows were thin and brown, and all the rest of the prairie was the pale, soft colors of dead grasses.
Page 274.
Pa liked the land because it was so rich, and there wasn’t a tree or a stump or a rock in it.
Page 275.
No one knew how many Indians were hidden in the prairie which seemed so level but wasn’t. often Laura saw an Indian where no one had been an instant before.
Page 275.
The wind was rising and wildly screaming. Thousands of birds flew before the fire, thousands of rabbits were running.
Page 278.
The Indians had always burned the prairie to make green grass grow more quickly, and traveling easier. Their ponies couldn’t gallop through the thick, tall, dead grass. Now the ground was clear. And he was glad of it, because plowing would be easier.
Pages 283-284.
The whole vast prairie was still. Only the wind blew over the blackened earth where there was no grass to rustle. The wind blew past the house with a rushing sound like running water.
Page 295.
No matter what Mr. Scott said, Pa did not believe that the only good Indian was a dead Indian.
Page 301.
Everything was safe and quiet. Only the owls called “Who-oo?” Who-oo?” in the woods along the creek, while the great moon sailed slowly over the curve of the sky above the endless prairie.
Page 302.
The little Indians did not have to wear clothes. All their skin was out in the fresh air and the sunshine. Their straight black hair blew in the wind and their black eyes sparkled with joy. They sat on their ponies stiff and still like grown-up Indians.
Page 307.
She sat a long time on the doorstep, looking into the empty west where the Indians had tone. She seemed still to see waving feathers and black eyes and to hear the sound of ponies’ feet.
Page 311.
After the Indians had gone, a great peace settled on the prairie. And one morning the whole land was green.
Page 312.
In the mornings the meadow larks rose singing into the sky. All day the curlews and killdeers and sandpipers chirped and sang in the creek bottoms. Often in the early evening the mockingbirds were singing.
Pages 312-313.
Pretty soon they would all begin to lie like kings.
Page 315.
“We’re leaving here!” Pa said. “Scott and Edwards say the government is sending soldiers to take all us settlers out of Indian Territory.”
Pages 316-317.
Now the wagon was loaded. The only thing they could not take was the plow. Well, that could not be helped. There was no room for it. When they came to wherever they were going, Pa could get more furs to trade for another plow.
Page 324.
The snug log house looked just as it always had. It did not seem to know they were going away. Pa stood a moment in the doorway and looked all around inside; he looked at the bedstead and the fireplace and the glass windows. Then he closed the door carefully, leaving the latch-string out.
“Someone might need shelter,” he said.
Pages 324-325.
The little log house and the little stable sat lonely in the stillness.
Page 325.
Laura felt all excited inside. You never know what will happen next, nor where you’ll be tomorrow, when you are traveling in a covered wagon.
Page 327.
Then for a long time they went on, across the prairie. There was nothing to be seen but the blowing grass, the sky, and the endless wagon track.
Page 328.