Nobody is going to eat out of tin pans and sleep on straw.

Grandpa just won't let them." She sat up and wiped her eyes on her apron.

"But Papa Jack would die befo' he'd take help from you," she wailed.

"An' so would mothah.

I heard her tell the doctah so." The tender expression on the Colonel's face changed to one like flint, but he kept on stroking her hair.