Breaking a somewhat lengthy silence, Manly said, 'Can't we be married soon? If you don't want a big wedding, and you would be willing, we could be married right away. Striped gophers ducked into their holes and wild ducks flew overhead from one lake to another. The buggy top was up to make a shade from the heat of the sun the horses' manes and tails flew out on the wind jack rabbits ran and prairie chickens scuttled out of sight in the grass. Forty or fifty miles in all, but always 'around the square' to come home. Then over the prairie again east and north to Spirit Lake fifteen miles away. South twelve miles across bare prairie to lakes Henry and Thompson, along the narrow neck of land between them where chokecherries and wild grapes grew. Then he tightened the reins and they dashed away for an unexpected weekday afternoon drive. Manly said nothing of all this, but he helped her into the buggy and tucked the linen lap robe carefully about her to keep off the dust. The sage-green, rough-straw poke bonnet lined with blue silk softly framed her pink cheeks and her large blue eyes with the bangs of her brown hair above them. The little tight waist with long sleeves and high neck had a bit of lace at the throat. The skirt was full, and tucked to the waist. Her dress of pink lawn with its small sprigs of blue flowers just cleared her toes. It was a pretty picture Laura made standing at the door of the rough claim shanty, the brown August grass under her feet and the young cottonwoods standing in their square around the yard. She was basting cambric lining to the bodice pieces of her new black cashmere dress and had just time to put on her hat and pick up her gloves when the brown horses and the buggy stopped at the door. Looking from a window of the low, three-room claim shanty a half mile away, Laura saw them coming.

And so the swiftly trotting horses drawing the shining black-top buggy swung around the corner of Pearson's livery barn, making the turn from the end of Main Street to the country road Monday afternoon at four o'clock. They were to be expected: a natural part of life. It was a hot afternoon with a strong wind from the south, but out on the Dakota prairie in 1885 no one minded the hot sunshine or the hard winds.

The first 4 years laura ingalls wilder