We were all happy when we got to La Junta and could stop wandering. We lived for a spell in our covered wagon, with the tent perched alongside it. Papa set up the cook stove so Mama wouldn't have to cook over an open fire and Mama put the table outside. But some of the fun of camping out was gone because we were weary of outside living after our long trip from Santa Fe. Father and mother decided they liked the little prairie town and wanted to build a house. One day Papa came home with good news.

"I've found some property, Sarah," he told Mama. "It's close to the railroad tracks so the boys and I can walk to work."

"How much will it cost?" Mama asked.

"$150 an acre," Papa said.

"That's a lot of money." Mama frowned.

"Well, it's cheaper than some of the other property in town. We only need an acre," Papa said. "That's plenty of room for a garden plot and the animals."

"All right, Sam." Mama agreed and got the savings from the sugar bowl. All of us were anxious to live in a house again, especially Mama.

In April of 1881 an election was held to see if the folks in town wanted to make La Junta a town. Papa said the La Junta Tribune said that out of 185 people who lived there, 37 voted and La Junta was now a town. By that time there was a school house, hotel, three saloons, two sectionhouses, 11 homes, one general store, two restaurants, one engine pump house, one ice house, a Wells Fargo, a blacksmith shop, one boarding tent and a barber shop.

Our house was built the same year that La Junta became a town. My father and brothers made 'dobies just like the Indians made them. I remember trying to help Papa and the boys as they dug the trench for the foundation. They seemed to think that I should stay out of their way. It would be a two room house. They hauled stones from the nearby Arkansas river for the foundation.

There was no mill in La Junta so Papa and the boys had to go to Pueblo to get lumber to make the molds for the 'dobies.

"We need lumber," Papa told Mama. "Hope I can get some horseshoe nails from Globe Nail Co." You couldn't buy regular nails in those days.

Papa had to take a few days off of work to get the things for the house. I was wishing I could go with them, but Mama said no. She needed me to help her pull weeds out of the garden.

It was several days before they finally got back with that lumber. I was excited when they pulled into the yard with those boards.

I eagerly watched as they built the forms for the 'dobe.

"How do you build foundations Papa?" I asked.

"Well, you put lumber on four sides and leave the top and bottom open," he explained as he hammered the horseshoe nails.

"What for Papa?" I asked.

"To make adobe bricks and dry them, Sadie," Papa told me.

Papa and the older boys had to work long hours, so they built on the house early in the morning and late at night. The younger boys could work on the building. They said I could help them if I didn't pester. It didn't take long to build the molds to hold that adobe. Then we started pouring water on the ground.

I was eight years old, big enough to carry pails of water to wet down the dirt. I tried hard to keep up with my brothers. That dirt was sure thirsty, it kept drinking up the water. It took a long time to carry enough water to turn that hard dirt into mud. Seemed like we made a hundred trips a day carrying buckets of water. Finally we had the ground soggy.

The next day Papa announced that it was time to add the straw to the mud. He shoveled straw onto the dirt and then the fun began. My brothers and I worked the straw into the dirt with our bare feet. That was the most fun but my feet got tired and I was glad when Papa said we had it mixed enough.

Father and the boys shoveled the mud into the wheelbarrow and poured it into the lumber molds to make adobe bricks. It was just like making mud pies, but more fun. Then we laid the bricks out to dry.

"The bricks have to bake in the sunshine," Papa said.

Every day the boys turned the bricks until they were hard as rocks. They covered the bricks with canvas in case it rained. There wasn't much I could do when Papa and the boys started putting those 'dobies up. They were too heavy and every time I tried to help somebody told me to get out of the way. But I loved to sit and watch them work. They used more 'dobie to stick the bricks together.

"Today is Tuesday, Sarah," Mama told me after the bricks were ready. "You have to help with the ironing."

"Oh, Mama," I said impatiently. "I want to watch Alfred and Oscar build the house."

"No, Sarah, I mean it," Mama frowned. "You've become such a tomboy, it's time you did your share of the housekeeping. It's not easy living out of the covered wagon and the tent. We have chores too and there's no one else to help me but Laura."

"Okay, Mama," I sighed. Why couldn't I be a boy so I could work all day on the house like my brothers did? I hated to iron. Those flatirons got heavy and almost before I got started they cooled off. But I knew better than to argue with Mama.

Mama brought out the basket of clothes she wanted me to iron. I could iron the sheets, pillowcases, my dresses and some of the boys shirts. That basket sure was full. A big family dirtied a lot of clothes. Mama had the sad irons setting on the stove to heat.

"I'm going to work in the garden," she told me as I started pressing the clothes.

"All right, Mama," I said. It was hard to press down on the heavy flatirons. I was trying to hurry, I didn't want to miss any of the building. As I worked an idea came to my mind and I started hurrying even more.

The bottom of the basket finally appeared. I hung the clothes on the nails at the side of the wagon and put the flat irons on the back of the stove.

"I'm done Mama," I said as I came running past her in the garden. I hoped she wouldn't want me to help her weed the garden.

"You're already done?" Mama looked skeptical.

"Yes," I said, slowing down a little.

"Did you iron all the pillowcases and sheets?" She asked.

"Yes, I did," I didn't say how WELL I had ironed them, but they were ironed.

"Well,I don't know how you got done so fast," she frowned again. "But go ahead." Was I glad she didn't want me to stay and help weed the garden.

Papa and the boys were putting those walls up fast. Albert and Oscar even let me help carry some of the bricks.

The next morning Mama made me do the breakfast dishes before I went to help with the building.

"You have to gather the eggs and feed the hens," she told me. So I grabbed the bucket and put some feed in it and gave it to the chickens. I filled a bucket with water and hurried through the chore of getting the eggs. I took them back to Mama and dashed back to where Papa and the boys were working.

"Sarah," Mama said that evening when we went in for supper. "You broke a couple of eggs this morning when you gathered them."

"I'm sorry, Mama," I said. I was hungry.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with you," she sighed. "You're getting so careless. All you ever think about is helping build the house. There are other duties here."

"I know it Mama," I hung my head. I really was ashamed but I did want to help the boys work on the house.

"Papa and the older boys have to go to work every day," Mama scolded. "You can do your work too."

Saturday Papa made a surprise announcement.

"The Santa Fe has put a special car on the tracks. They're going to hold church services there," he said.

"That's different," Oscar offered.

"The preacher will be here this week," Papa continued. Mama looked especially happy.

"Tomorrow morning," she said. "We are all going to church."

"But Mama," Albert argued. "We need to work on the house."

"No matter how much work there is around here," Mama said. "We're going. We haven't been to church since we got to La Junta and we owe God a heap of thanks for taking care of us."

"Can't you just read the Bible Mama?" Oscar asked.

"Don't argue with your Ma," Papa said. "We're going to church. The building will wait. We aren't in that much hurry. We're going to observe the Lord's day."

A blanket was draped over a line so the tin tub could be warmed up and filled with water for our baths.

"I want all of you to get your clothes out tonight," Mama said.

Suddenly I didn't feel too good.

"Ma," Oscar hollered as he brought out his shirt. "What happened to my shirt? It's full of wrinkles."

"Oh, no." Mama looked at me. "Now I know how you got done so quick."

I had thought maybe the wrinkles would smooth out as they hung but I had to admit they didn't look good.

"I can't go to church looking like this," Oscar glared at me.

"I'll be shamed," Albert complained.

"Okay, Sarah," Mama said as she put the flat irons on the stove. "You have work to do. The clothes all have to be sprinkled and re-ironed."

"But Mama," I protested. "Can't I just touch them up a bit?"

"No, you barely touched them before," she said as she started sprinkling the clothes.

And so there I was ironing clothes in the evening. I finished up everything by the light of the lantern. Then I noticed that Mama hadn't sprinkled my dress. It was still hanging.

"You'll have to stop now," Mama said. "It's getting dark."

"But Mama,"I objected. "I didn't get my dress ironed."

"Well, that's too bad, Sadie," Mama said. "There's no more time."

"Maybe I could do it in the morning," I said hopefully.

"I'm afraid not," Mama said. "With chores and breakfast there just won't be time."

"But Mama." Tears filled my eyes. "I don't want to go to church in a wrinkled dress."

"Well, Sadie," Mama said. "I sympathize with you, but sometimes we just have to learn from our mistakes."

The next morning I went to church for the first time in La Junta in a wrinkled dress. It seemed to me that everyone from town was there and they were all staring at my dress. It was a miserable morning and I didn't speak to anyone or look up even while I was singing.

Mama said I had to learn from my mistakes and I sure did. I ironed the clothes nice and smooth after that.