{"product_id":"2940013704077","title":"Our Daily Bread","description":"John Elliot senior, fifty-five years old, small, slender, grey of\u003cbr\u003ehair and beard, but carrying himself erectly, clad in a grey suit--\u003cbr\u003ehe despised overalls--was crossing his sloping yard to the barn\u003cbr\u003ewhich stood north-east of the house, higher up on the bare hill-\u003cbr\u003eside, separated from the plantations about the dwelling by a dry\u003cbr\u003egully.  He was going to hitch a horse to the buggy; for his wife\u003cbr\u003ewas getting ready to call on Mary, her third-oldest daughter who\u003cbr\u003elived in town.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHalfway up the slope John Elliot stopped and looked back, allowing\u003cbr\u003ehis troubled eyes to survey the yard and the fields to south and\u003cbr\u003ewest.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe yard occupied the north-west corner of the homestead.  The part\u003cbr\u003esurrounding the dwelling was sheltered by young poplar trees\u003cbr\u003eplanted by Mrs. Elliot some fifteen years ago.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOpposite, across the road--it was still a mere trail--a second yard\u003cbr\u003efaced it, enclosed by the straggling, low buildings--stable,\u003cbr\u003egranary, shack--of his oldest son's homestead.  The farms comprised\u003cbr\u003ethree hundred and twenty acres each; for east and west of the\u003cbr\u003ehomesteads, properly speaking, stretched two \"preemptions.\"  This\u003cbr\u003ewas the short-grass country of the new province of Saskatchewan; a\u003cbr\u003ehalf section of land was considered the least on which a farmer\u003cbr\u003ecould make a living.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn fact, John junior, still only twenty-four years old, had not\u003cbr\u003efound even that enough.  The spirit of this new west possessed him,\u003cbr\u003ecraving vast and ever vaster spaces.  He had done shallow breaking\u003cbr\u003eover large fields; and, garnering, by sheer luck, according to his\u003cbr\u003efather, two or three crops in succession, he had first rented, then\u003cbr\u003ebought a third quarter.  He had hardly done any plowing since.  He\u003cbr\u003eseeded on stubble land, scratching it, with the disk, into the\u003cbr\u003esemblance of a seed-bed.  This year, according to his father, he\u003cbr\u003ewas reaping what he had sown.  It was a dry summer; his grain,\u003cbr\u003ethough it was the end of July, stood no more than three or four\u003cbr\u003einches high, ripe or dried out.  Everywhere the brown, drab earth\u003cbr\u003eshowed, over the bare clay hills, between the thin rows of scraggy,\u003cbr\u003eyellow wheat.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn this moment of survey John Elliot senior's eye swept south.  In\u003cbr\u003ea long \"draw\" or hollow his own field stretched from west to east.\u003cbr\u003eEven there the grain stood none too thickly; but it was two and a\u003cbr\u003ehalf feet high and, though headed, in spite of the unbroken drought\u003cbr\u003eof five weeks still green: eighty acres, on a fallowed field.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"You can't fool the land!\" John Elliot muttered as he turned and\u003cbr\u003eproceeded to the barn.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe mere fact that his son was farming his own land was contrary to\u003cbr\u003ehis wishes.  Six years ago, when John junior had become entitled to\u003cbr\u003efile on a homestead, he had done so against his father's protest\u003cbr\u003ewho wanted him to remain on his own farm, seeing that it would be\u003cbr\u003ehis one day.  Ever since, his father had been critical and still\u003cbr\u003emore morose than was his habit.  That his sons-in-law went their\u003cbr\u003eown way was in the nature of things; but that his flesh and blood\u003cbr\u003eleft him was a source of sorrow.","brand":"WDS Publishing","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47073767096560,"sku":"2940013704077","price":2.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940013704077_p0.jpg?v=1763584505","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940013704077","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}