off key, Searchlight actually grabbed the harmonica in her mouth and ran out of the room with it.
“Do you want me to play some more?” little Willy asked Grandfather, knowing very well that Grandfather would not answer. Grandfather had not talked—not one word—for over three weeks.
But something happened that was almost like talking.
Grandfather put his hand down on the bed with his palm facing upward. Little Willy looked at the hand for a long time and then asked, in a whisper, “Does that mean ‘yes’?”
Grandfather closed his hand slowly, and then opened it again.
Little Willy rushed to the side of the bed. His eyes were wild with excitement. “What’s the sign for ‘no’?”
Grandfather turned his hand over and laid it flat on the bed. Palm down meant “no.” Palm up meant “yes.”
Before the night was over they had worked out other signals in their hand-and-finger code. One finger meant “I’m hungry.” Two fingers meant “water.” But most of the time little Willy just asked questions that Grandfather could answer either “yes” or “no.”
And Searchlight seemed to know what was going on, for she would lick Grandfather’s hand every time he made a sign.
The next day little Willy began to prepare for the harvest.
There was a lot of work to be done. The underground shed—where the potatoes wouldbe stored until they could be sold—had to be cleaned. The potato sacks had to be inspected, and mended if need be. The plow had to be sharpened. But most important, because Grandfather’s old mare had died last winter, a horse to pull the plow had to be located and rented.
It was going to be difficult to find a horse, because most farmers were not interested in overworking their animals—for any price.
Grandfather kept his money in a strongbox under the boards in the corner of his bedroom. Little Willy got the box out and opened it. It was empty! Except for some letters that little Willy didn’t bother to read.
There was no money to rent a horse.
No money for anything else, for that matter. Little Willy had had no idea they were broke. Everything they had needed since Grandfathertook sick little Willy had gotten at Lester’s General Store on credit against this year’s crop.
No wonder Grandfather was so concerned. No wonder he had gotten sick.
Little Willy had to think of something. And quick.
It was now the middle of September. The potatoes they had planted in early June took from ninety to one hundred twenty days to mature, which meant they must be harvested soon. Besides, the longer he waited, the more danger there was that an early freeze would destroy the crop. And little Willy was sure that if the crop died, Grandfather would die too.
A friend of Grandfather’s offered to help, but little Willy said no. “Don’t accept help unless you can pay for it,” Grandfather had always said. “Especially from friends.”
And then little Willy remembered something.
His college money! He had enough to renta horse, pay for help, everything. He told Grandfather about his plan, but Grandfather signaled “no.” Little Willy pleaded with him. But Grandfather just repeated “no, no, no!”
The situation appeared hopeless.
But little Willy was determined. He would dig up the potatoes by hand if he had to.
And then Searchlight solved the problem.
She walked over and stood in front of the plow. In her mouth was the harness she wore during the winter when she pulled the snow sled.
Little Willy shook his head. “Digging up a field is not the same as riding over snow,” he told her. But Searchlight just stood there and would not move. “You don’t have the strength, girl.” Little Willy tried to talk her out of it. But Searchlight had made up her mind.
The potato plant grows about two feet high, but there are no potatoes on it. The potatoes areall underground. The plow digs up the plants and churns the potatoes to the surface, where they can be picked up and put into
“Do you want me to play some more?” little Willy asked Grandfather, knowing very well that Grandfather would not answer. Grandfather had not talked—not one word—for over three weeks.
But something happened that was almost like talking.
Grandfather put his hand down on the bed with his palm facing upward. Little Willy looked at the hand for a long time and then asked, in a whisper, “Does that mean ‘yes’?”
Grandfather closed his hand slowly, and then opened it again.
Little Willy rushed to the side of the bed. His eyes were wild with excitement. “What’s the sign for ‘no’?”
Grandfather turned his hand over and laid it flat on the bed. Palm down meant “no.” Palm up meant “yes.”
Before the night was over they had worked out other signals in their hand-and-finger code. One finger meant “I’m hungry.” Two fingers meant “water.” But most of the time little Willy just asked questions that Grandfather could answer either “yes” or “no.”
And Searchlight seemed to know what was going on, for she would lick Grandfather’s hand every time he made a sign.
The next day little Willy began to prepare for the harvest.
There was a lot of work to be done. The underground shed—where the potatoes wouldbe stored until they could be sold—had to be cleaned. The potato sacks had to be inspected, and mended if need be. The plow had to be sharpened. But most important, because Grandfather’s old mare had died last winter, a horse to pull the plow had to be located and rented.
It was going to be difficult to find a horse, because most farmers were not interested in overworking their animals—for any price.
Grandfather kept his money in a strongbox under the boards in the corner of his bedroom. Little Willy got the box out and opened it. It was empty! Except for some letters that little Willy didn’t bother to read.
There was no money to rent a horse.
No money for anything else, for that matter. Little Willy had had no idea they were broke. Everything they had needed since Grandfathertook sick little Willy had gotten at Lester’s General Store on credit against this year’s crop.
No wonder Grandfather was so concerned. No wonder he had gotten sick.
Little Willy had to think of something. And quick.
It was now the middle of September. The potatoes they had planted in early June took from ninety to one hundred twenty days to mature, which meant they must be harvested soon. Besides, the longer he waited, the more danger there was that an early freeze would destroy the crop. And little Willy was sure that if the crop died, Grandfather would die too.
A friend of Grandfather’s offered to help, but little Willy said no. “Don’t accept help unless you can pay for it,” Grandfather had always said. “Especially from friends.”
And then little Willy remembered something.
His college money! He had enough to renta horse, pay for help, everything. He told Grandfather about his plan, but Grandfather signaled “no.” Little Willy pleaded with him. But Grandfather just repeated “no, no, no!”
The situation appeared hopeless.
But little Willy was determined. He would dig up the potatoes by hand if he had to.
And then Searchlight solved the problem.
She walked over and stood in front of the plow. In her mouth was the harness she wore during the winter when she pulled the snow sled.
Little Willy shook his head. “Digging up a field is not the same as riding over snow,” he told her. But Searchlight just stood there and would not move. “You don’t have the strength, girl.” Little Willy tried to talk her out of it. But Searchlight had made up her mind.
The potato plant grows about two feet high, but there are no potatoes on it. The potatoes areall underground. The plow digs up the plants and churns the potatoes to the surface, where they can be picked up and put into
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