“Fish is good for the brains. Aunt Jane,” said Robert, smiling.
“Well, I suppose it’s no use waiting for your uncle. If he’s at the tavern, he will stay there until he is full of liquor and then he will reel home. Come in and sit down to the table.”
Robert entered the cabin and sat down at a side table. His aunt brought him a plate of boiled fish and a potato.
“I found just one potato in the cupboard, Robert,” she said.
“Then eat it yourself, aunt. Don’t give it to me.”
“No, Robert; I’ve got a little toast for myself. There was a slice of bread too dry to eat as it was, so I toasted it and soaked it in hot water. That suits me better than the potato.”
“Haven’t you any tea, aunt—for yourself, I mean?” Robert added quickly. “I don’t care for it, but I know you do.”
“I wish I had some. Tea always goes to the right spot,” said Mrs. Trafton; “but I couldn’t find a single leaf.”
“What a pity!” said Robert regretfully.
“Yes,” sighed Mrs. Trafton; “we have to do without almost everything. It might be so different if Mr. Trafton wouldn’t drink.”