"Some day somebody might."
"Eat," Pieter invited. He pushed a platter of eggs at the boy and forked
a thick slice of home-cured ham onto his plate. Then he placed the dish
of yellow butter where Ramsay could help himself and put a plate of
feather-light fresh-baked rolls where he was able to reach it. Marta
came softly in from the kitchen with a bowl of cold milk.
Ramsay ate, primly at first, then gave way to his enormous appetite.
Pieter served him another slice of ham. The boy took two more eggs and
another roll, which he spread lavishly with butter. Sighing, unable to
swallow another crumb, he pushed his plate back. Pieter looked gravely
at him. "Do you have to go to Milwaukee?"
"No, I just thought I might find a job there."
"You can," Pieter assured him. "But if a job is what you want, a job is
what I can give you. I can't pay you any money, at least until we have
sold our fall crops, because we haven't any. But I can give you all you
can eat, a good bed to sleep in, and I have some clothes that will fit
you."