"Of course you can. It's all for your education, my dear. I never forget that."
A money paying job for a boy of twelve was a hard thing to find in High Hill and Jason was late for supper that night. But his brown eyes were shining with triumph when he slid into his seat and held out his bowl for his evening meal of mush and milk.
"I've got a job," he said.
"A job?" queried his father. He smiled a little at Jason's mother.
"Yes, sir. Mr. Inchpin is having a new barn built on the hill back of his house. The brook runs at the foot of it and I'm going to haul gravel and sand and water up to the building site. It'll take about a month. He provides the horse and wagon."
"And how much will he pay you?" asked Mrs. Wilkins.
"He says he can't tell till he's through. But I'm going to ask him for five dollars."
Jason's father looked amused and a little troubled. "Jason, I hope you're not too interested in Mammon. But I must say I'm glad to see you have your mother's energy."
"Or your father's," said Mrs. Wilkins, smiling into the blue eyes opposite hers. "Nobody can say that a circuit rider lacks energy."