No fear of hard work

Jessica complains that the stories I relate, especially of my childhood, always end up on a sad note. Well, here's one that ends happily

Sometimes I wondered if our dad ever understood how hard we worked and how little we were appreciated    He was reading a letter from his sister, Aunt Jenny, where she said Sally, the youngest of three daughters and probably eight or nine  at this time, was working in the garden for five cents an hour.  Sally kept running into the house every four or five minutes to check the clock and see how much money she had made. Dad said five cents wasn't much, stunning us, who would have enjoyed five cents for l2 hours of work.

When the kids were small we needed extra help hoeing the cotton and corn.  Dad would recruit four or five from Minden, paying them 75 cents a day  plus a soft drink.  They worked l0 hours a day; we worked l2.

Jessica, see how this ends happily.  All eight of us grew up not afraid of hard work and appreciative of money and against being wasteful.  Our four boys and especially our daughter, have always being willing to work hard.