and stars shone in through its roof, and the only running water
was in the irrigation ditch. Even under the glistening
cottonwood tree it was a stifling cage on a hot day.

They were all going to work, except Jimmie and Sally. It would
take all of them, new hands that they were, to care for the
twenty acres they were to work. Mr. Lukes said that children
under sixteen were not supposed to be employed, but of course
they could always help their parents. Daddy said that was one
way to get around the Child Labor Law.

So the Beechams were to thin the beets and hoe them and top them,
beginning the last of May and finishing in October, and the pay
would be twenty-six dollars an acre. The government made the
farmers pay that price, no matter how poor the crop was.

"Five hundred and twenty dollars sounds like real money!" Daddy
rejoiced.

"Near five months, though," Grandma reckoned, "and with prices
like they are, we're lucky to feed seven hungry folks on sixty
dollars a month. And we're walking ragbags, with our feet on the
ground. And them brakebands--and new tires."

"Five times sixty is three hundred," Rose-Ellen figured.

"You'll find it won't leave more than enough to get us on to the
next work place," Grandpa muttered.

It was lucky the chicken-coop was in sight of their acres.