"
"But, goodness!" Rose-Ellen exclaimed. "You never would let us
teach you anything, Jimmie. What's happened to you?"
"Well, it's different. I got to keep ahead of Pedro," he
explained, and every night he learned a new lesson.
[Illustration: Rose-Ellen teaching Jimmie]
Of all the family, though, Jimmie was the only contented one.
Most of the trouble centered round Dick. He was fourteen now,
and not only his voice, but his way, was changing. Through the
day he picked hops, but when evening came, he was off and away.
"He's like the Irishman's flea," Grandma scolded, "and that gang
he's running with are young scalawags."
"Dick hasn't a lick of sense," Daddy agreed worriedly. "I'll have
to tan him, if he keeps on lighting out every night. That gang
set fire to a hop rack last week. They'll be getting into real
trouble."
"Dick thinks he's a man, now he's earning his share of the
living," Grandpa reminded them. "When I was his age I had chores
to keep me busy, and when you were his age you had gym, and the Y
swimming pool. Here there's nothing for the kids in the evening
except mischief."
"Well, then," Grandma suggested, "why don't we pull up stakes and
leave?"
"They don't like you to leave till harvest's over," Daddy said.
"But it would be great to get into apples in Washington, for
instance.
Pages:
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97