I must earn my bread and butter." The final sentence came with such a lifting of his head, such a look of stern decision, and such an air of pride, that the gentle old school-teacher laughed until her eyes were filled with tears; and Judy, at the crack in the kitchen door, wondered if the mistress of the little log house by the river were losing her mind.
"Oh, Brian! Brian!" cried Auntie Sue, wiping her eyes.

"I knew you would come to the 'bread and butter' at last.

That is where all our philosophies and reasonings and arguments come at last, don't they?
Just 'bread and butter,' that is all.

And I love you for it.

Of course you can't live upon my hospitality,--and I couldn't let you if you would.
And if you WOULD, I wouldn't let you if I could.