The valley thrust itself, in inlets and
coves, into the very rocks of its southern wall; lovely sheltered
nooks these were, where he hated to wound the soft, flower-filled
sward with his plough. As soon as the planting was done, he began
to fell trees for the house. No mournful gray adobe this time, but
walls of hewn pine, with half the bark left on; alternate yellow and
brown, as gay as if glad hearts had devised it. The roof, of thatch,
tule, and yucca-stalks, double laid and thick, was carried out
several feet in front of the house, making a sort of bower-like
veranda, supported by young fir-tree stems, left rough. Once more
Ramona would sit under a thatch with birds'-nests in it. A little
corral for the sheep, and a rough shed for the pony, and the home
was complete: far the prettiest home they had ever had. And here,
in the sunny veranda, when autumn came, sat Ramona, plaiting out
of fragrant willow twigs a cradle. The one over which she had
wept such bitter tears in the valley, they had burned the night
before they left their Saboba home.
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