em an'
didn't know what t' do with it? What'll _she_ do with it? Wait till
she's _got_ it. Then she an' me'll sit down an' tell you a-a-all about
it."

There was a note of ridicule in his voice that fired the eldest, who
made no reply, but struck the wooden bowl of his pipe so savagely
against his boot-heel that it split and fell from its stem. Then he
turned upon the youngest with a wave of the hand that commanded an
opinion.

"Yes, what've _you_ got to say?" inquired the biggest, also turning.

The youngest shrugged his shoulders. "You two run the business to suit
yourselves," he said; "I wash my hands of it." He began another
jackstraw without glancing up.

"That's good," said the biggest; "that counts you out." He tilted his
chair around until he faced the eldest. "I'm no dog in the manger," he
continued; "I didn't have a chance to learn more than the law allows, or
to go to a city school. But I wanted to, bad enough. That's why I know
how _she_ feels." He pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the little
girl. "I'm for her goin'; an', whatever comes of it, I'll stand by her.
Books is all she wants--let her have 'em. We ain't got no right to hold
her back."

"She can have 'em here," interposed the eldest.

"Yes, along with work that's too hard on her. You wouldn't think of
puttin' a fine animal like the blue mare on the plow; no, of course you
wouldn't. There's some horses born for teamin' an' some for high-toned
carriage pullin'. It happens in this case we ain't talkin' about a draft
plug." He was trembling in his earnestness. After a pause he went on.
"She might stay here. That's right. But she'd never have a cent to call
her own 'less she earned it teachin'. Some way or other, the boys in a
family always think they own the farm; girls ain't got no share, no
matter how hard they've drudged around the kitchen or the garden, or
even in the fields. They can take anything that's given 'em till they
marry; or they can hang around an' play nurse-girl an' kitchen-girl to
their brothers' wives."

"I've always noticed," broke in the eldest, changing his ground, and
ignoring what the biggest said, "that every country girl who goes to
town polishes herself up like a milk-pan till she's worn off the prairie
look, an' then she marries some dude with a head like an addled egg."

The biggest threw the little girl a swift, roguish glance. "I ain't
afraid of the dude part of it," he said; "I'm willin' to trust her
taste