"We must be content with what we can get."
After supper the farmer took his hat, and walked slowly and soberly about the farm. He felt that it was his farewell. Till now it had been his. To-morrow it would pass from his possession.
"It is hard," he sighed, "but it can't be helped. At any rate, we won't starve."
There was a small house, with half an acre of land attached on the outskirts of the village, which he could get at a moderate rental. He had inquired about it, and had made up his mind to secure it.
"But it is humble," objected his wife.
"We must not be proud, wife," he said. We can make it look homelike with our furniture in it."
"But what will you do for an income, Sterling?"
"I can work out by the day. Perhaps the man who buys our farm—I hear the squire has got a purchaser for it—will employ me."
"To work out by the day at your age, Sterling!" said his wife, indignantly.
"It will be hard, but if it is necessary I can do it."