The children watched while their mother dipped the parsnip stew into
the china bowl. Elmira, while constantly more amenable to her mother,
was at the moment more outspoken against her.

"There won't be enough left for us," she burst forth, excitedly.

"I guess you'll get all you need; you needn't worry."

"There won't be enough for father when he comes home, anyhow."

"I ain't a mite worried about your father; I guess he won't starve."

Mrs. Edwards went on dipping the stew into the bowl while the
children watched. She filled it nearly two-thirds full, then stopped,
and eyed the girl and boy critically. "I guess you'd better go,
Elmira," said she. "Jerome can't unless he's all cleaned up. Get my
little red cashmere shawl, and you can wear my green silk pumpkin
hood. Yours don't look nice enough to go there with."

"Can't I eat dinner first, mother?" pleaded Elmira, pitifully.

"No, you can't. I guess you won't starve if you wait a little while.
I ain't 'goin' to send stew to folks stone-cold. Hurry right along
and get the shawl and hood. Don't stand there lookin' at me."

Elmira went out forlornly.

Mrs. Edwards began pinning the linen towel carefully over the bowl.

"Let Elmira stay an' eat her dinner. I'd just as lives go. Don't care