"
"I ain't got any other work right now. Carter knows I need all the money
I can lay my hands on. The way he beat me down on the price for my south
field."
"I wish you didn't have to sell."
"Wishing won't do any good. I need cash money mighty bad. Remember, this
farm ain't paid for yet."
He got up and walked over to the chest. He picked up the sharp knife he
used for cutting corn. "Get your knife, Abe, and come along."
Abe walked behind his father along the path through the woods. "That Mr.
Swaney was right nice," he said.
Tom grunted.
"He is waiting to start his school until after harvest," Abe went on.
"Nat Grigsby is going. Allen Gentry is going, and he is two years older
than me."
"Allen's pa is a rich man," said Tom gruffly. "Maybe he's got money to
burn, but poor folks like us have to earn our keep."
"But, Pa--"
"I declare, your tongue is loose at both ends today. Can't you stop
plaguing me? First your ma, then you. You ought to see I'm worried."
Abe said nothing more. He pulled a book out of the front of his shirt
and began to read as he strode along the path.
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