"Shall I send these?" the grocer asked respectfully, when they
had given their order. "You're new here, aren't you?" Mussed as
they were, the Beechams still looked respectable.
Grandma flushed. She hated to have anyone see that flapping
canvas room, but the heap of supplies was heavy. "Please. We're
working in the grapefruit," she said.
The grocer's face lost its smile. "Oh, we don't deliver to the
camps," he snapped. "And it's strictly cash."
Grandma handed him the coins, and she and Rose-Ellen silently
piled their purchases into the tub they had bought. They had to
set it down many times on their way back.
[Illustration: Bringing back the groceries]
Next Grandma made a twig broom and they swept the dirty ground.
Mrs. Rugieri, next door, showed Grandma her beds, made of
automobile seats put together on the ground. That night the
Beecham men went to the nearest dumps and found enough seats to
make a bed for Grandpa and Grandma and the baby. Fortunately it
was not cold; coats were covering enough.
On the dump Daddy found also an old tub, from which he made a
stove, cutting holes in it, turning it upside down, and fastening
in a stovepipe.
"I don't feel to blame folks so much as I used to for being
dirty," Grandma admitted, when they had done their best to make
the shelter a home.
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