XV
GOING BACK TO TOWN
"Labor Day, and school lunches begin to-morrow," She said, carefully drying one of the "Home Comforts" that had been growing dusty on an upper shelf since the middle of June.
She set the three tin lunch-boxes (two for the four boys and one for me) on the back of the stove and stood looking a moment at them.
"Are you getting tired of spreading us bread and butter?" I asked.
She made no reply.
"If you don't put us up our comforts this year, how are we going to dispose of all that strawberry jam and currant jelly?"
"I am not tired of putting up lunches," she answered. "I was just wondering if this year we ought not to go back to town. Four miles each way for the boys to school, and twenty each way for you. Are n't we paying a pretty high price for the hens and the pleasures of being snowed in?"
"An enormous price," I affirmed solemnly.