"[...] "Maybe. I wish I could get out of here. I'd like to do something else than farm." "What would be your choice?" "Well," remarked Jed, slowly, while a smile appeared on his face that had grown a bit serious, "I read about a tramp once that was looking for a contract to gather the blossoms on a century plant, that bloomed once in a hundred years. I don't care for anything quite as slow as that, but I would like a job where I could make a bit of money, instead of always paying up back debts." "Yes, poor dad has had bad luck. But maybe better times are coming." "I'm afraid not. But this isn't cultivating the corn, and, if we don't do that, I know there won't be any crop coming this fall. Let's get back to work." "Suppose we give the horses a drink," suggested Will.[...]".