“Mother is the only one who deserves any thanks–the rest of us were crazy to come. We were tickled to death to have an excuse, eh, Chicken Little?” He tweaked her ear for emphasis.
“Oh, I love the farm, Father, only I wish Ernest could go away to school. He’s awfully worried for fear you won’t feel able to send him to college this fall. He studies every minute when he isn’t too tired.” Dr. Morton’s face grew grave.
“Yes, it’s time for the boy to have a better chance. I wanted him to go last year, but the drought and the low price of cattle made it impossible. And I don’t quite know how it will be this fall yet.”
“There mustn’t be any if about it this fall, Father. Ernest is working too hard here and now is the time for his education if he is ever to have one,” Mrs. Morton spoke decidedly.
“I know all that, Mother, but college takes ready money, and money is mighty scarce these days. 36He’s pretty well prepared for college. I’ve seen to that, if we do live on a Kansas ranch.”
“It isn’t just the studies, though, Father Morton,” said Marian. “Ernest needs companionship. He doesn’t take to most of the boys around here, and I don’t blame him. They’re a coarse lot, most of them. The McBroom boys are all right, but they live so far off and are kept so busy with farm work, he never sees them except after church once a month or at the lyceums in winter.”
“Marian’s just right, Father. The boy needs the right kind of associations; his manners and his English have both deteriorated here,” added Mrs. Morton.
“Perhaps, Mother, but the boy is sturdy and well and his eyes are strong once more, and he is going to make a more worth while man on account of this very farm life you despise. But he does need companions. I wonder if we couldn’t get Carol or Sherm out here for the summer along with the rest.”
“Father, do have some mercy on me. I can’t care for such a family!” Mrs. Morton gasped at this further adding to her burdens.
Marian studied for a moment.