Debt, however, save that upon their house, he had fought to keep out of all his married life. That his equity in the Amity Street cottage was so small was not his fault; but he owed not any man.
“Now we must go fishing,” Mrs. Sherwood said, in her sprightly way, when the little family really discussed the unfortunate situation after the announcement of the shut-down of the mills was made public.
“Goodness, Momsey! What a reckless creature you are,” laughed Mr. Sherwood. “Waste our precious time in such employment, and in the dead of winter, too?”
“Now, Papa Sherwood, I don't mean that kind of fishing at all!” cried the little woman gaily. “We are going to fish for employment for you, perhaps for a new home.”
“Oh!” gasped Nan. The thought of deserting the little cottage on Amity Street was a dreadful shock.
“We must face that possibility,” said her mother firmly. “It may be. Tillbury will see very hard times now that the mills are closed. Other mills and shops will follow suit.”
“Quite true, Momsey,” agreed the husband and father.
“I am a very logical person, am I not?” said the smiling little lady.
“But the fishing?” cried Nan curiously.
“Ah, yes. I am coming to that,” said her mother. “The fishing, to be sure! Why, we are going to write letters to just everybody we know, and some we only know by hearsay, and find out if there isn't a niche for Papa Sherwood somewhere outside Tillbury.”