e lives next door to us,
you know."

"Well, I only hope he's used to hard work," said Richard. "How old is
he, Rosemary? Almost sixteen? I don't suppose he has ever picked
tomatoes from sunup to sundown, but the cannery opens next week and
we'll be picking steadily until it closes. Mr. Hildreth is shipping
some crates to-day, but the real picking starts when the cannery opens.
We're counting on Jack to make a third hand."

"He'll want to go fishing," declared Sarah.

"Jack doesn't care how much he hurts the poor fish, jabbing hooks into
them."

Sarah and Jack had had more than one violent argument over this
question.

"It isn't cruel to go fishing," said Rosemary impatiently, thinking how
tired Warren looked.

"I haven't been this year," announced Richard, "though they say there
are several good streams near here. Sundays I seem to lack ambition
and during the week, of course, there isn't time."

Sarah edged a little nearer the pail.

"You wouldn't catch fish would you, Warren?" she asked coaxingly.

Warren looked at her and grinned.

"Not only would I catch them," he told her, "but I'd eat them; if we
are to have fish to eat, Sarah, someone must catch them for us. The
same way with roast chicken for Sunday dinner and roast pork, you know;
they don't grow on bushes."

Sarah's eyes turned to Bony, now lying comfortably sprawled across her
lap. She was sitting on the ground and Rosemary beside her.

"I never would eat Bony!" she said in horror-stricken tone.

"No, of course not," Richard put in quickly, "but you'd eat a pig you
were not acquainted with, wouldn't you?"

Sarah was most uncomfortable. She liked roast pork and in winter was
fond of little sausages. And now here was Richard telling her that
pigs--like Bony--had to be killed before one could have roast pork to
eat.

"Never mind, Sarah," said Rosemary, taking pity on her sister. "You
don't have to think about what you eat--just don't try to make everyone
see your way and don't argue so much and eat what Winnie gives you and
you'll have nothing to worry about."

Warren laughed and held out his cup as Rosemary lifted the dipper
invitingly.

"In other words, Sarah," he counseled, "don't be so valiant a reformer."

"What's a reformer?" demanded Sarah, eyeing the pail anxiously.

"You're one when you try to stop your friends from going fishing,"
Warren informed her. "That's the whole trouble with reform--no one is
willing to impro