“Good-morning, Miss Cleveland. I thought you might want to get a path shoveled to the gate.”
“So I would; Hannah tried to do it last time it snowed, but she caught an awful cold. But ain’t you working up at the store?”
“Not now. Mr. Tripp cut down my wages, and I left.”
“Do tell. Have you got another place?”
“Not just yet. I thought I’d do any little jobs that came along till I got one.”
“That’s right. What’ll you charge to shovel a path?”
Chester hesitated.
“Fifteen cents,” he answered, at last.
“I’ll give you ten. Money’s skerce.”
Chester reflected that he could probably do the job in half an hour, and he accepted. It cheered him to think he was earning something, however small.