“That would be lovely, but don’t mention it before the children. I feel that if we have any extra money it ought to be put away.”
“I suppose you’re right; but I’d like to be able to give you a little pleasure sometimes.”
“I know, and I do have pleasure, Jack; and we’ll just look forward to more chance for such things in the future. And about the other job?”
“Jim Rutland is going to open a kind of lunch stand in one end of his general store; for tourists, you know. He wants me to run it.”
“But why does Jim need anyone? I should think he could attend to both himself.”
“He has to be out of the store quite a lot. He sells everything from chickens to farm machinery, has a gas station, and I don’t know what else. He thought his son would stay home and help him out this summer, as he did last; but he had a chance to go to the States, and he’s going.”
“Is it much of a job, Jack?” asked Desiré, rather doubtfully.
“Not so much, but there’s pretty good money in it. He is going to let me have a small commission on the tourist business, aside from a fair salary. Makes it more interesting, and it will do very well indeed until I have an opportunity at something better. It will keep us going until fall—when I can have the mail again—and I hope will give us something to add to the ‘nest egg.’”
They fell silent, Jack wondering how he could get something really worth while to do, and Desiré racking her brains to think of some way in which she could contribute to their income.
“Who’s going to do the baking for the lunch room?” she asked suddenly, “Jim hasn’t a wife or mother, has he?”