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Show in my father's house/ 177 "How wonderful!" my mother exclaimed. "To think we've only been here a year!" Aunt Helga said. "Who do you think will win?" someone asked my father as he was about to leave for Idaho. The election would be held the next day. My father scratched his head. Aunt Helga broke in. "I'm sure it will be Isaac. He's handsomer than Saul - I mean, with Saul's teeth crooked and all. He certainly can't help having been kicked by that LeBaron horse, but it makes the girls like Isaac just a little better. Don't you think, Rulon?" My father nodded. "You're probably right." My mother bowed her head. I felt my face grow hot and my fists clench. At supper, I studied the boys, comparing them. Saul was perhaps a half-inch shorter than Isaac, but broader-shouldered, deeper-chested. Both boys had the same color hair and eyes, but Isaac wore his hair longer, in a gentle wave, while Saul kept his cropped close to his head so that it lay in stiff, abrupt lines. But I could not perceive either of them as being more handsome than the other. Saul had his share of dates, though not with the same girl, while Isaac was already engaged. Each of them saw me gazing and smiled, in turn. Back home, at the white house, Isaac always received my father's attention and approval. Aunt Helga insisted that my mother play for Isaac to sing, and their long evening hours of i practice resulted in Isaac's sweet tenor filling our home evenings |