But Joe was n't about.
The corn shelled out 100 bags--the best crop we had ever had; but when Dad came to sell it seemed as though every farmer in every farming district on earth had had a heavy crop, for the market was glutted--there was too much corn in Egypt--and he could get no price for it.

At last he was offered Ninepence ha'penny per bushel, delivered at the railway station.

Ninepence ha'penny per bushel, delivered at the railway station! Oh, my country! and fivepence per bushel out of that to a carrier to take it there! AUSTRALIA, MY MOTHER! Dad sold--because he could n't afford to await a better market; and when the letter came containing a cheque in payment, he made a calculation, then looked pitifully at Mother, and muttered--"SEVEN POUN'S TEN!".