At supper, as Dr. Rich meditatively shook a few drops of canned milk into his tea, he remarked, “We have seen a great sight this day. A hunter has become a farmer, and is less likely to starve.”
“Hasn’t there been a good deal of starvation in your day?”
“Yes, I have seen Persia lose a quarter of her population in one year. I have seen China lose eight millions in two years. I have seen Samara starved into cannibalism.”
Jean did not pursue the subject It was the subject she had thought about most and discussed with her father the least.
“Nevertheless,” went on her father with unwonted vivacity, “much may still be done, for the age of farm colonies is just beginning. Japan understands this, and will find a way to feed her colonists, even if she has to fight America to do it. We ourselves should instantly care for a million farmers among our soldiers by reclaiming land.”
“Daddy, it’s a pity that I am the only one to hear you say such things.”
The doctor smiled and changed the subject. “We went off in such a hurry that I failed to open the rest of the mail. Suppose you do it.”
Jean went to the library and returned with two letters, both bearing Connecticut postmarks. She opened one, and a check fell out. It was for three hundred dollars and bore the marginal words “Traveling expenses.” She read the letter aloud and clapped her hands.
“You will, won’t you?”
He shook his head.