It was all handsome, but shabby-looking. A few dollars wisely spent would have made a vast difference in its appearance; but, unfortunately, there were never any dollars to spare.
Jack had resumed the argument. "Nonsense, nonsense, Jack!" said Mr. Franklin. "It is absurd for a boy like you to ask me for so much money. Incubators are of no good, anyhow. Give me a good old-fashioned hen."
"Perhaps, papa," said Cynthia, demurely, "Jack will give you a good old-fashioned hen if you let him buy an incubator to raise her with."
Mr. Franklin laughed. Then he grew very grave again.
"There's no doubt about my making something of it," persisted Jack. "I wish you would let me try, father! I'll pay back whatever you lend me. Indeed I will. It's only forty dollars for the machine."
Mr. Franklin was very determined. He could seldom be induced to change his mind, and his prejudices were very strong. Jack's face fell. It was of no use; he would have to give it up.
Presently Aunt Betsey spoke. She had been an attentive listener to the conversation, and now she settled herself anew in her rocking-chair, and folded her hands in the way she always did when she had something of especial importance to say.
"How much money do you need, Jackie? Forty dollars, did you say?"
"Forty for the incubator," said Jack, rather shortly. He felt like crying, though he was a boy, and he wished Aunt Betsey would not question him.
"And then you must buy the eggs," put in Cynthia.