There were many other happenings before the year closed, that caused me to think a great deal.  Grandpa spent less time at the shop; he bought himself a fleet-footed horse which he named Antelope, and came home oftener to talk to grandma about money they had loaned Major Prudon to send to China for merchandise, also about a bar-room which he was fitting up near the butcher-shop, for a partner.  Next, he bought faithful Charlie, a large bay horse, with friendly eyes, and long black mane and tail; also a small blue farm wagon in which Georgia and I were to drive about the fields, when sent to gather loose bark and dry branches for baking fires.

We were out for that purpose the day that we saw grandpa ride away to the mines, but we missed seeing Jakie steal off, with his bunch of cows.  He felt too badly to say good-bye to us.

I was almost heart-broken when I learned that he was not coming back.  He had been my comforter in most of my troubles, had taught me to ride and drive the horse, shown me the wood duck’s nest in the hollow of our white oak tree, and the orioles’ pretty home swinging from a twig in the live oak, also where the big white-faced owls lived.  He had helped me to gather wild flowers, made me whistles from branches cut from the pussy willows, and had yodeled for me as joyfully as for loved ones in his Alpine home.  Everything that he had said and done meant a great deal more to me now, and kept him in mind, as I went about alone, or with grandma, doing the things that had been his to do.  She now moulded her cheeses in smaller forms, and we had fewer cows to milk.

When the season for collecting and drying herbs came, Georgia and I had opportunity to be together considerably.  It was after we had picked the first drying of sage and were pricking our fingers on the saffron pods, that grandma, in passing, with her apron full of Castilian rose petals, stopped and announced that if we would promise to work well, and gather the sage leaves and saffron tufts as often as necessary, she would let us go to a “real school” which was about to open in town.

Oh, dear! to go to school, to have books and slate and pencil!  What more could be wished?  Yes, we would get up earlier, work faster before time to go, and hurry home after lessons were over.  And I would carry the book Aunt Lucy had given me.  It was all arranged, and grandma went to town to buy slates, pencils, speller, and a stick of wine-colored ribbon to tie up our hair.

When the anticipated hour came, there were great preparations that we might be neat and clean and ready on time.  Our hair was parted in four equal divisions; the front braids, tied with ribbon, formed a U at the back of the neck; and we wore new calico dresses and sun-bonnets, and carried lunch for two in a curious little basket, which grandma must have brought with her from Switzerland.  Joyfully we started forth to the first American school opened in Sonoma.