"Why, Robert! what do you know about farming or gardening?"

"Not very much, but I am not yet too old to learn; and there would
be something for the children to do at once, pure air for them to
breathe, and space for them to grow healthfully in body, mind, and
soul. You know I have but little money laid by, and am not one of
those smart men who can push their way. I don't know much besides
bookkeeping, and my employers think I am not remarkably quick at
that. I can't seem to acquire the lightning speed with which things
are done nowadays; and while I try to make up by long hours and
honesty, I don't believe I could ever earn much more than I am
getting now, and you know it doesn't leave much of a margin for
sickness or misfortune of any kind. After all, what does my salary
give us but food and clothing and shelter, such as it is, with a
little to spare in some years? It sends a cold chill to my heart to
think what should become of you and the children if I should be sick
or anything should happen to me. Still, it is the present welfare of
the children that weighs most on my mind, Winifred. They are no
longer little things that you can keep in these rooms and watch
over; there is danger for them just outside that door. It wouldn't
be so if beyond the door lay a garden and fields and woods. You, my
overtaxed wife, wouldn't worry about them the moment they were out
of sight, and my work, instead of being away from them all day,
could be with them. And all could do something, even down to pale
Mousie and little Bobsey. Outdoor life and pure air, instead of that
breathed over and over, would bring quiet to your nerves and the
roses back to your cheeks. The children would grow sturdy and
strong; much of their work would be like play to them; they wouldn't
be always in contact with other children that we know nothing about.
I am aware that the country isn't Eden, as we have imagined it--for