"It's a pity you
didn't tell her sooner, young-one," he said. "The cranberries
will be over in a few more days, and we'll be going back."
"Back to Philadelphia?" Rose-Ellen demanded. "Where? Not to a
Home? I won't! I'd rather go on and shuck oysters like Pauline
Isabel and her folks. I'd rather go on where they're cutting
marsh hay. I'd rather--"
"Well, now," Grandpa's words were slow, "what about it, kids?
What about it, Grandma? Do we go back to the city and-and part
company till times are better? Or go on into oysters together?"
The tears stole down Jimmie's cheeks, but he didn't say anything.
Daddy didn't say anything, either. He picked Sally up and hugged
her so hard that she grunted and then put her tiny hands on his
cheeks and peered into his eyes, chirping at him like a little
bird.
"I calculate we'll go on into oysters," said Grandpa.
3: SHUCKING OYSTERS
This picnic way of living had one advantage; it made moving easy.
One day the Beechams were picking; the next day they had joined
with two other families and hired a truck to take them and their
belongings to Oystershell, on the inlet of the bay near by.
Pauline Isabel's family were going to a Negro oystershucking
village almost in sight of Oystershell. "It's sure nice there!"
Pauline assured them happily.
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