A r o u n d the one - hundred - and- sixty - acre Benson farm the fields of grain and corn rippled in the summer breeze like a great green sea. Atop a knoll stood the attrac tive, white farmhouse encircled by a grove of deeper green. Nearby were the huge red barn, numerous smaller buildings, livestock much in evi dence, and because it was the state of Kansas, near the house was an in visible, “ cyclone cellar,” a cove with cement floor and walls, wooden steps and a door flush with the ground which opened with a big ring at tached to a heavy chain. The Ben sons had never used it. It was “ off limits” for games or for storage. There were ten Bensons—a happy, affectionate, i n du s t r i o u s family. Harry was 16; Ann, 14; twins, Tim and Tom, 12; Peggy, 10; Amy, 8; Jimmy, 5, and Baby Alice,. 2. Al ready the older boys helped their fa ther in the fields and with the chores, and the older girls assisted their mother with the care of the little ones, the housework and the thou- sand-and-one tasks of the mother of eight who lives on a farm. Their lives were filled with work, school and play. Occasionally, they attend ed a church, but so occupied were they with living and making a living that spiritual interests were quite crowded out. It had been an extremely hot and humid summer. Often Mr. Benson paused in the fields to “ take a breath er,” as he drank the ice-cold lemon ade the children carried to him. On such occasions he surveyed his crops with pleasure and pride. “This will be our best year,” he predicted, which brought forth from Harry and the twins the inevitable ques tion, “Does that mean we can get a new station wagon, Daddy?” He smiled indulgently. “ Yes, and what’s more—but it’s a secret—a big deep freeze for your mother . . . and other things!” The children joyfully scam pered back to the house, to tell the others about the car. The Bensons, like all farm folk, rose at dawn, and although it was summer and the children were all home from school, their mother liked them to be in bed fairly early. So by eleven o’clock, on a very sultry night in July, every chick and child was asleep and so were their pets: old Prince, the collie, lying at the foot of Harry’s bed; Rusty, the lively Irish setter, between the twins; the white cat, Salt, curled up in her own little bed beside Amy; and Pepper, the speckled cat, contrary to Mrs. Ben son’s orders, relaxed like a rag doll
JUNIOR KINGS BUSINESS
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TH E K IN G 'S BU SINESS
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