"But what good will that do us, Mis' Albi?" Grandma asked flatly. "It's close onto September and berries is out." "The cranberry bog!" Mrs. Albi shouted triumphantly. "Only today the _padrone_, he come to my people asking who will pick the cranberry. And that Jersey air, it will bring the fat and the red to these Jimmie's cheeks and to the _bambina_'s!" Mrs. Albi wheezed as she ran out of breath. The Beechams stared at her. Many Italians and Americans went to the farms to pick berries and beans. The Beechams had never thought of doing so, since Grandpa had his cobbling and Daddy his photograph finishing. "Well, why shouldn't we?" Daddy fired the question into the stillness. "But school?" asked Rose-Ellen, who liked school. Mrs. Albi waved a work-worn palm. "You smart, Rosie. You ketch up all right." "That's okeydoke with me!" Dick exclaimed, yanking his sister's curls. "You can have your old school." Sally woke with a cry like a kitten's mew and Rose-Ellen lugged her out, balanced on her hip. Mrs. Albi's Michael was the same age, but he would have made two of Sally. Above Sally's small white face her pale hair stood up thinly; her big gray eyes and little pale mouth were solemn. "Why," Grandma said doubtfully, "we . . . why, if Grandpa would give up his shop--just for the cranberry season. We got no place else to go." Grandpa sighed. "Looks like the shop's give me up already. We could think about it." "All together!" whooped Dick. "And not any school!" "Now, hold your horses," Grandma cautioned. "Beechams don't run off nobody knows where, without anyway sleeping over it." But though they "slept over" the problem and talked it over as hard as they could, going to the cranberry bogs was the best answer they could find for the difficulty. It seemed the only way for them to stay together. "Something will surely turn up in a month or two," Daddy said. "And without my kids"--he spread his big hands--"I haven't a thing to show for my thirty-two years." "The thing is," Grandpa summed it up, "when we get out of this house we've got to pay rent, and I'm not making enough for rent and food, too. No place to live, or else nothing to eat." Finally it was decided that they should go. Now there was much to do. They set aside a few of their most precious belongings to be stored, like Grandma's grandma's painted dower chest, full of treasures, and Grandpa's tall desk and Rose-Ellen's dearest doll. Next they chose the things they must use during their stay in Jersey. Finally they called in the second-hand man around the corner to buy the things that were left. Poor Grandma! She clenched her hands under her patched apron when the man shoved her beloved furniture around and glanced contemptuously at the clean old sewing machine that had made them so many nice clothes. "One dollar for the machine, lady."