My Ántonia on The Georgics: “I propped my book open and stared listlessly at the page of the 'Georgics' where tomorrow's lesson began.”
My Ántonia on The Aeneid: “Morning after morning I used to pace up and down my sunny little room, looking off at the distant river bluffs and the roll of the blond pastures between, scanning the 'Aeneid' aloud and committing long passages to memory.”
My Ántonia on Robinson Crusoe: “I got 'Robinson Crusoe' and tried to read, but his life on the island seemed dull compared with ours.”
My Ántonia on The Swiss Family Robinson: “In the afternoons, when grandmother sat upstairs darning, or making husking-gloves, I read 'The Swiss Family Robinson' aloud to her, and I felt that the Swiss family had no advantages over us in the way of an adventurous life.”
My Ántonia on The Count of Monte Cristo: “The Count of Monte Cristo,' which I had seen James O'Neill play that winter, was by the only Alexandre Dumas I knew.”
My Ántonia on The Winter's Tale: “Gardener had gone to Omaha to hear Booth and Barrett, who were to play there next week, and that Mary Anderson was having a great success in 'A Winter's Tale,' in London.”
My Ántonia on Shenandoah: “That spring Lena went with me to see Joseph Jefferson in 'Rip Van Winkle,' and to a war play called 'Shenandoah.”