and ten acres of wheat put in; but there had been no rain, and not a grain had come up, or was likely to.
Nothing had been heard of Dan since his departure. Dad spoke about him to Mother. "The scamp!" he said, "to leave me just when I wanted help—after all the years I've slaved to feed him and clothe him, see what thanks I get! but, mark my word, he'll be glad to come back yet." But Mother would never say anything against Dan.
The weather continued dry. The wheat did n't come up, and Dad became despondent again.
The storekeeper called every week and reminded Dad of his promise. "I would give it you willingly," Dad would say, "if I had it, Mr. Rice; but what can I do? You can't knock blood out of a stone."
We ran short of tea, and Dad thought to buy more with the money Anderson owed him for some fencing he had done; but when he asked for it, Anderson was very sorry he had n't got it just then, but promised to let him have it as soon as he could sell his chaff. When Mother heard Anderson could n't pay, she did cry, and said there was n't a bit of sugar in the house, nor enough cotton to mend the children's bits of clothes.
We could n't very well go without tea, so Dad showed Mother how to make a new kind. He roasted a slice of bread on the fire till it was like a black coal, then poured the boiling
