They come grinning
home at night, their faces black as tar, their spirits up in Q, jump
into a bath-tub, put on clean togs, and come down to dinner looking like
gentlemen--but _not_ gentlemen any more thoroughly than they have been
all day."
Jeff looked at his brother seriously. "Lanse," he said, "if you go into
one of the locomotive shops won't you get a place for me?"
But Celia interposed. "Whatever the rest of us do," she said, "Jeff and
Just must keep on with school."
Jeff rebelled with a grimace. "Not much!" he shouted. "I guess one
six-footer is as good as another in a boiler-shop. You don't catch me
swallowing algebra and German when I might be developing muscle. If
Lanse puts on overalls I'm after him."
Celia looked at her father. "What do you think of all this, sir?" she
asked. "If I stay at home, dismiss Delia, and do the housework myself,
and Lanse finds some suitable position, can't we get on? Charlotte can
put off the school of design another year. We will all be very
economical about clothes----"
"Being economical doesn't bring in cash to pay bills," interrupted Jeff.
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