"Oh, but Bob has never been there. Besides, he was only exaggerating, because he doesn't want us to go, you know."
Miss Chase gave such a graphic account at breakfast of her early morning experiences that every one at the table shouted with laughter. The jackasses were alluded to ever after as Aunt Dorothy's lunatics.
"To talk of serious things," said Mr. Orban, half way through the meal, "we shall have to be fearfully careful with the water. The second tank is almost empty, and I doubt its lasting till the rains come."
"That's bad," said Bob.
"Things are bad," said Mr. Orban. "I hope the rains will hurry up, or we shall have the cane catching fire. We should lose every bit of the crop if that happened."
"Dear me," said Miss Chase, "you seem to have fearful difficulties to contend with. Nesta was talking about locusts only this morning."
"Locusts will destroy the young crop," said Mr. Orban. "If it escapes them, fire may destroy the old. Too much rain and too little do equal damage. We've had a good many unprosperous years, with one thing and another."
"It looks grand burning," said Eustace.
"A sheet of flame, and your heart in the middle of it, never seems very grand to the man whose year's work and hope is being burnt under his very nose," said Mr. Orban.
The children had seldom seen their father look as worried as he did then. It seemed to Eustace there was trouble in the air.