Solomon. Marilyn Bishop Shaw

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      “Boy, you said you were ’bout to starve. Why you pickin’ at your meal?”

      “Oh, I am hungry, Papa, and the stew’s real good, Mama. I just was thinkin.’” His parents chewed and waited. “Do you think maybe we could use a little fresh meat? I could take the gun out soon as my mornin’ chores are done tomorrow,” he said hopefully.

      Moses smiled. Solomon was good help and almost never complained, but he chaffed at every day he didn’t get to ramble the woods. “I think maybe some rabbit or squirrel might be welcome,” Moses agreed. “Maybe you even find a hog.” Solomon immediately began shoveling food into his mouth. “You mind yourself if you do see a hog. They can turn on a man in a snap, and they can win the fight, too. I don’t want you takin’ no chances, do you hear?”

      “I won’t, Papa. That would be fine, though, wouldn’t it? To have some fresh hog meat just afore the cold?”

      “We haven’t built a smokehouse yet,” Lela offered, “but we could surely dry and salt down some and that might be just the thing to get us through the lean times come cold.”

      They finished the meal and went to bed on pins and needles—one with excitement and two with worry.