ildren and what did they
do?

"Good grief!" ejaculated the harassed Richard, at last rebelling. "I
never lived on a poor farm, Rosemary. I don't know a great deal more
about it than you do."

"Is it a nice place?" persisted Rosemary.

"Depends on what you call nice," answered Richard. "It is a large farm
and the house looks comfortable. I'll tell you one thing--if I had to
be a county charge, I'd rather be sent to a country poor farm than to a
city almshouse; in the country you at least have something green to
look at."

"Would you like to live at this poor farm?" said Rosemary.

Louisa and Alec, Kitty, Ken, Jim and June--they were in her mind. She
would, perhaps, have some comforting news to take them about the poor
farm. She was totally unprepared for the violence of Richard's reply.

"Like to live at the poor farm?" thundered he. "Not if it was the most
magnificent place on earth! Do you think for one moment that I'd have
charity handed out to me? I'd rather wash dishes for a living--what do
you take me for, anyway?"

Three pairs of astonished eyes stared at him. Then Rosemary laughed
and, after a moment, Richard laughed with her.

"Guess I got too eloquent," he admitted a little shamefacedly. "But
honestly, Rosemary, I pity those poor souls who have to live at the
poor farm, more than I pity any other people of whom I've ever heard.
There is nothing worse, to my mind, than to be deprived of your
independence and ability to work."

"How do you come to live in the poor house?" inquired Rosemary. "Sit
still, Sarah; no, it isn't your turn to drive yet."

"Oh, sometimes you're old and haven't saved any money," said Richard
absently. "Sometimes you're old and sick and have to stop earning.
Lots of people lose those who would have supported them--say their
children. And now and then parents die and leave a family of kids who
must be brought up as wards of charity."

Rosemary hardly noticed when he took the reins from Shirley and turned
Solomon into a beautiful tree-lined road in perfect condition. She was
thinking that "wards of charity" did not sound half as happy as when
one said "the Gay children."

"Here we are!" announced Richard, stopping before a handsome red brick
building with a great white front porch and a fine stretch of lawn
before it. "How do you do, Mrs. Carson? Mr. Hildreth thought you
might like some early tomatoes for supper."

A stout gray-haired woman had come out from