The Inglenook
Nancy leaped to her feet, scattering cats in every direction.
"Mother Carey!" she exclaimed remorsefully. "You have n't mentioned money since New Year's, and I thought we were rubbing along as usual. The bills are all paid; what's the matter?"
"That is the matter!" answered Mrs. Carey with the suspicion of a tear in her laughing voice, "The bills are paid, and there's too little left! We eat so much, and we burn so much wood, and so many gallons of oil'"
"The back of the winter's broken, mother dear!" said Gilbert, as a terrific blast shook the blinds as a terrier would a rat. "Don't listen to that wind; it's only a March bluff! Osh Popham says snow is the poor man's manure; he says it's going to be an early season and a grand hay crop. We'll get fifty dollars for our field."
"That will be in July, and this is March," said his mother. "Still, the small reversible Van Twiller will carry us through May, with our other income. But the saving days are over, and the earning days have come, dears! I am the oldest and the biggest, I must begin."
"Never!" cried Nancy. "You slave enough for us, as it is, but you shall never slave for anybody else; shall she, Gilly?
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