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GARDENLNG FOR MONEY. 
 
 HEO-W^ IT -Wj^-S IDOn^E!, 
 
 FL O WERS, 
 STRA WBERRIES, 
 VEGETABLES. 
 
 By CHARLES BARNAED 
 
 ot*;o 
 
 LORING-, Publisher. 
 
 Cor. Bromfield and Washington Streets, 
 BOSTON. 
 
 /^<^^ 
 

 Entered, nceorflins to Act of Conp-css, in the year 1809, by 
 
 A . K . I. O R I N r, , 
 
 In the :ierk's Office of the District Court for the District of MassachusettB. 
 
in 
 
 FLOWERS. 
 
 M2' TEN-ROD FARM; OR, HOW I 
 BECAME A FLORIST. 
 
 MRS. MARIA OILMAN'S SUCCESSFUL EXPERIMENT. 
 
MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 OB, 
 
 HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE COMING OF TROUBLE. — THE BEGINNING OF HOPB. 
 
 My name is Maria Gilman. I am a widow. These are 
 my two children, — John, fifteen years of age, who is study- 
 ing to be a gardener, and Mary, twelve years old, who at- 
 tends the high school at the Centre, where I reside. I own 
 the house in which I live, the furniture, the large green- 
 house in the yard, and, in fact, the entire estate, — one hun- 
 dred and sixty feet by seventy-five, — which I familiarly 
 speak of as my Ten-Rod Farm. I keep a man-servant and 
 a maid-of-all-work. My income is two thousand dollars 
 a year, and I am out of debt. Five years ago I was poor 
 and in great affliction. Now I am independent, though not 
 quite free from sorrow, for the memory of my husband will 
 always remain with me. 
 
 •If it would interest you, I will give you a portion of my 
 life history, and explain how it was that I, a comparatively 
 
6 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 poor ■woman, have made a place for myself in the world 
 and become rich, and all this with my own hands. 
 
 Mj parents were in comfortable circumstances, and, like 
 most girls of mj class, I was brought up with little or no 
 knowledge of how to work. I could play and sing as well 
 as most girls. I knew how to sew ; but, beyond this, com- 
 paratively nothing. I was married to Mr. Gilman when I 
 was twenty. My parents both died soon after. My new 
 home was always one of ease and comfort, — my husband 
 being foreman of the large mill you see yonder, and in re- 
 ceipt of a liberal income. My life from my youth up was 
 one long happiness, until that dark and sad day when my 
 husband was brought home, on a lovely June morning, 
 mangled and dead, — killed in the mill. From that moment 
 my sorrows began. Let me pass over the terrible days 
 that followed. I do not remember much about them. I 
 seemed lost in a horrid dream, and only awoke to the sad 
 reality when I was forced to attend to the pressing wants 
 of myself and children. 
 
 Then I knew the meaning of loneliness and poverty. 
 At first I could not look at my condition. They said some- 
 thing to me about the house being sold. 
 
 " Sell my husband's house and home ! Leave this place, 
 leave my home, go away from this garden planted and 
 tended by his hands? No, I will never do it." 
 
 "But you must. There is a mortgage on it, and you 
 had better sell out and find a room or two to live in." It 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 7 
 
 was my brother Joseph who had said this. He lives near 
 bj. He is a married man, with a large family, and is far 
 from rich. Doubtless he was right in what he said. I did 
 not know how that was. I was in too much trouble to 
 think of anything then. 
 
 " Joseph," I said, " give me time to think. Wait a few 
 days, and I will talk with you again." Going to my room, 
 I sat down to think. Yes, to think ! Thinking was some- 
 thing I had never been called upon to do. It had been my 
 lot simply to enjoy. I looked over the state of affairs, and 
 found these hard facts : the house I occupied was worth 
 two thousand dollars ; part of the purchase money was 
 paid, and five hundred dollars still remained on a mortgage ; 
 there was an insurance of two thousand dollars on my hus- 
 band's life. And what else ? Nothing. Not a cent of in- 
 come of any sort. When the bills of the funeral were .paid 
 I found I should have just twenty-five dollars on hand from 
 my husband's wages, and no more. Give up the house I 
 would not, — at least, not until I was obliged to. No ! I 
 would stay where I was, — find something to do and sup- 
 port myself and children as best I could. But then what 
 could I do ? Teach ? No, indeed. All I knew of music 
 when I was a girl had been lost long ago. Take a school ? 
 Could I get one? I imagined not. All the places are 
 spoken for long before they are vacant. What, then, could 
 I do ? Plainly, nothing but sewing. I must support my- 
 self by my needle. Thank God, I could do that. Accord- 
 
8 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 ingly, the next day, after sending the children to school, I 
 took the train for the citj in search of work. Need I tell 
 you the miserable story ? How I went from shop to shop 
 literally " despised and rejected of men." The second day 
 was as the first — nothing. The third was still more hope- 
 less. The fourth day I found some work, and took it home. 
 After sitting up part of that night, all the next day, and 
 far into the next evening, I finished the work, and carried 
 it to the city, and received for my eighteen hours' labor, 
 only seventy-nine cents. The price was so out of all pro- 
 portion to the amount of toil, and seemed to me so utterly 
 cruel, that I took the money, found my way to the .cars 
 somehow, and finally reached my home, tired and almost 
 broken-hearted. I was awakened the next morning by con- 
 fused noises in the street. Wondering what it could mean, 
 I got up and went down stairs. I found the children 
 already up and trying to make a breakfast of bread and 
 water. "What is the matter? " asked I. 
 
 "Fourth of July, mother. Didn't you know it? I 
 am going to the pond to fish with the boys." The Fourth 
 of July, and everybody happy and making holiday. All 
 happy but me. And then — more tears. After a while I 
 busied myself about the house until my brother Joseph 
 came in after dinner. He began at once. 
 
 " Now, Maria, do listen to reason. Sell this house, in- 
 vest the money with the insurance, and live on the interest. 
 It will give you about two hundred a year, and you can 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 9 
 
 get on very well with that, if you put Johnny at a trade, 
 and let Mary go into the factory." 
 
 "Joseph," I cried, "what do you mean? My Mary in 
 the mill?" 
 
 " Well, just as you like, — I can't help you." 
 
 After' he had gone, I lay down sick, weary, and utterly 
 dejected. 
 
 I had not been in my room long, before Mary came to me 
 and said a young lady wished to see me at the door. Wash- 
 ing away the tear-stains, I went down to the front door, and 
 found Miss Dwight from the grand house over the way. 
 
 "Mrs. Gilman, I have a great favor to ask; come into 
 the garden a moment." 
 
 Throwing something over my head, I followed her out 
 into my flower-garden. The sun was bright, and the air 
 fragrant with mignonette. The cheerful, balmy warmth 
 revived me, and I felt better. We went into the walk, 
 among the flowers. It was my husband's garden. He was 
 passionately fond of flowers, and had planted and tended 
 them with his own hands. I had not been in the garden 
 since he died, yet the sight did not make me sad ; I was 
 rather pleased than otherwise. He seemed to be nearer to 
 me, and from that moment I began to love the flowers for 
 his sake. Presently Miss Dwight stopped before a brilliant 
 geranium, and, turning to me, said : — 
 
 " Mrs. Gilman, we have friends to dinner to-day. We 
 ordered some flowers of the florist, but they have not come, 
 
10 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 and I wish you to do me the favor of selling some of 
 yours." 
 
 " Sell my flowers ! No, indeed ! I will give you all 
 you wish." 
 
 " No, I cannot take them so ; I wish to buy them." 
 
 " What, sell my husband's flowers? Oh, no ! " 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Oilman, please listen a moment. Flowers 
 are a merchantable article. You have them, and I wish to 
 purchase. I am sure your husband would not object, were 
 he alive." 
 
 Then I, thought of my poverty, of my search for work, 
 and of the children. That decided me. 
 
 " Yes," I said at last, " I will sell you some, but I know 
 nothing of their value." 
 
 "But I do. I buy them often, and will give you just 
 what others charge me." 
 
 Without more words, she took out a pair of scissors and 
 began snipping off the flowers. At first, I could not bear 
 to see her do it, and walked apart by myself. After a Avhile, 
 I thought better of it, and even helped her fill her basket. 
 When it was full, she turned to me with a smile, and 
 said : — 
 
 "I am greatly obliged to you, Mrs. Oilman. These are 
 just what I wanted." And, handing me a bill, she went 
 away. 
 
 Re-entering the house, I drew down the curtains, to shut 
 out the sight and sound of the happy people in the village 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST, 11 
 
 street, and sat down to tliink over my wretched lot. 
 While I turned over in mj mind all the sad details of my 
 situation, I twisted the bit of paper in my hand till I nearly 
 tore it in two. This brought me to myself again, and I 
 mechanically unrolled the bill and looked at it. 
 
 "There must be some mistake. What could she have 
 been thinking of? She has paid me too much. It was 
 not possible that those flowers were worth five dollars." 
 And yet, there it was, — a new, clean, five-dollar bill, — 
 more money than I could earn in a week of sewing ! 
 
 In a moment I had my things on, and fairly flew across 
 the street, and hastily rang the D wights' bell. To the 
 servant who came to the door I handed the bill, saying : — 
 
 "Give that to Miss Dwight, if you please, and tell her 
 that Mrs. Gilman thinks there is some mistake." 
 
 In a few moments the servant returned, and, giving me 
 the bill again, informed me, with Miss Dwight's compli- 
 ments, that everything was quite correct. 
 
 Turning from their door, I walked slowly home just as 
 the sun was going down. As I entered my gate, a new 
 idea suddenly came to me. Quickening my pace, I ran up- 
 stairs to my room. No time for tears now. My oppor- 
 tunity had come. God had not forsaken the widow and 
 fatherless. It only remained for me to improve the oppor- 
 tunity which He had thrown in my path. 
 
 Taking a bandbox from the closet, and an old penknife 
 from my husband's bureau, I returned to the garden and 
 
12 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 began to cut the flowers, — verbenas, geraniums, mignon- 
 nette, fuchsias, and roses, by the handful. Filling my box, 
 I carried them into the kitchen, and, procuring all the 
 empty pans I could find, I placed the flowers in water and 
 arranged them on the table. ' ' No, that will not do ; the 
 children will see them." So, one at a time, I carried the 
 pans, now glowing with color, downstairs, and placed them 
 all in the cool, dark cellar. The next morning, I was up 
 very early ; and, after getting the children's breakfast ready 
 for them, gathered all the flowers together from the cellar, 
 put them in the bandbox, got my hat, shawl, and veil, and 
 started for the railroad. 
 
 The cars had not arrived when I reached the station ; so 
 I was obliged to wait among a crowd of men and boys and 
 a few girls, all going to their work in the city by the first 
 morning train. Soon the engine appeared, and we started. 
 I felt lonely indeed, and was almost the only woman in the 
 throng. The conductor knew me, but seemed puzzled to 
 see me. "What brings you here at this early hour?" I 
 dare say, he thought. 
 
 In due time we ran into the great depot in the city. I 
 had never been in the streets so early in the morning before. 
 Everything seemed strange. Plenty of people were stir- 
 ring, but they were all of a class which I had seldom met. 
 Only a few stores were open, and before these, boys and men 
 were busily sweeping out and taking down the shutters. I 
 had to pick my way along carefully, for it did seem as if 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 13 
 
 the servants were washing down all the door-steps at 
 once. 
 
 Coming out upon Trimountain Avenue, near the park, I 
 began to look about for a flower-stand, or seed store. Soon 
 I came to one, and looked in. There was no one there but 
 a boy with his broom, so I passed on. Presently I came 
 to another. The clean marble floor and handsome show- 
 case, filled with all sorts of garden nicknacks, tempted me 
 in. Seeing a young man behind the counter, I went up to 
 him, and, opening my box, laid it upon the wet marble slab 
 before him. 
 
 '' Are those flowers for sale ? " said he. 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " What will you take for them ? " 
 
 " Anything that is fair. I know nothing of their value^ 
 I trust to you to give me whatever they are worth." 
 
 He at once turned the flowers out, and, pushing my box 
 towards me, handed me a bill. Placing the box under my 
 shawl, I went out, and reached the cars in time for the first 
 train home. At my door I met the children. • 
 
 "Why, where have you been, mother? We thought 
 you must have run away." 
 
 ' ' No, no. I have been to town on an errand among the 
 shops." 
 
 " What ! shopping at this time of day ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but come, eat your breakfast and be off to school, 
 
 for I am busy now." 
 2 
 
14 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 Mj pride forced me to say this. It was not strictly true ; 
 yet I had been shopping, — as a seller. 
 
 After they had gone to school, I put away my things, 
 and carefully locked up the still fragrant bandbox. I did 
 not wish my children to know what I had done. It was a 
 foolish pride, — that, after a fall or two, was quite cured. 
 Taking my purse from my pocket, I unrolled the bill I re- 
 ceived for the flowers. It was a two-dollar bill. To tell 
 the truth, I was a little disappointed. From the sum I had 
 received from Miss Dwight, I expected to get more than 
 two dollars. But then, I remembered that Miss Dwight 
 took them at first-hand, whereas the man bought at whole- 
 sale to sell again. However, I put the two dollars with 
 Miss Dwight's five, and, going to market, I piocured 
 enough to supply our table for several days. After bring- 
 ing my purchases home, I found I had still one dollar left. 
 Quite overjoyed at the new turn affairs had taken, I put on 
 my sun-bonnet and went out, ostensibly to walk in the 
 garden, but really to take an account of stock in my new 
 trade. I went carefully over the whole ground ; counted 
 every plant, and tried to estimate how much money I could 
 cut from my flower-beds. If I could do as well as I had 
 this morning, I might snap my fingers at the sewing-shops, 
 keep my house, and be independent of Joseph and every 
 one else. Soon I was surprised to hear the factory-bell 
 ring for dinner, and directly the children returned from 
 school. Going into the house, I spread a bountiful table, 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 15 
 
 and sat down to dinner with a wonderful appetite. It 
 seemed as if I had never.been so hungry, nor in such good 
 health and spirits before. 
 
 The next morning I again made mj appearance before 
 the man in the flower store. This time he did not seem so 
 much pleased with my flowers. He looked at them for a 
 moment, and then carefully picked them over, arranging 
 them in two heaps upon the wet counter. 
 
 "I can't take all of these. Those," said he, pointing 
 to one heap, "are not salable. They drop too quick." 
 
 To this I could say nothing, so I took up my box and 
 prepared to leave. 
 
 But he detained me, and said, "I will pay you for the 
 good ones, but you need not bring those poor sorts any 
 more." 
 
 lie then passed me a bill with one hand, and with the 
 other pushed one of the little heaps of flowers from the 
 counter to the floor behind him. Just as they fell over I 
 stole a glance at them, and observed among them some 
 petunias and marigolds. 
 
 So, then, I have learned one thing to-day. Petunias 
 and marigolds are not salable. As soon as I reached the 
 train, and was alone in the car, for there were but few 
 people travelling at that hour of the morning, I opened 
 the bill and again found two dollars. 
 
 The next day was Sunday. It being a day of rest, I 
 could not gather my flowers at evening, and the next morn- 
 
16 MY TEN-KOD FARM ; 
 
 ing I was obliged to get up quite early, in order to cut 
 them in time for the early traiu. By working very hard 
 and fast I managed to get a box full, carefully omitting the 
 petunias and marigolds. 
 
 When I opened my box on the counter, in the flower 
 store, I found many of my flowers had wilted. Quite mor- 
 tified at the wretched appearance they presented, I laid 
 them before the man, expecting he would condemn the 
 whole of them this time. 
 
 As soon as he saw them he took up a watering-pot, and 
 fairly deluged them with water. 
 
 "You cut them in the sunlight," said he. "If you 
 wish to have them fresh, you must cut them the evening 
 before." Much wondering at this, I took my money and 
 went home. This time I found I only had a dollar and a 
 half So much for not knowing that flowers must not be 
 cut in the morning. However, the experience was well 
 worth the cost. After breakfast, I took out my sewing and 
 sat down to think over my new business. If I could go out 
 in my garden every day, and in a few moments cut enough 
 floAvers to support me through that day, I should be well 
 off; for all the remainder of the day I could be busy about 
 something else. But could I do this ? Would not the gar- 
 den require some attention ? I would go out and see. Suit- 
 ing the action to the word, I put on my sun-bonnet, and 
 started out to inspect. The first things I noticed were the 
 weeds. Yes, weeds, plenty of them. Surely this will not 
 
OR, now I BECAME A FLORIST. 17 
 
 do. I can't have flowers and weeds too. Ignorant as I 
 was, I knew enough for that. Selecting a corner where I 
 could not be seen from the street, I set to work pulling 
 them up by hand. Pretty hard work I soon found it, and 
 it did seem as if the sun was very powerful that day. 
 After weeding a while, I had to give it up and rest. Walk- 
 ing about to get rid of the back-ache, I came to a large bed 
 of petunias. What a pity there are so many of them, and 
 yet no income from them ! So mercenary had I become, 
 weighing floAvers by their money value only ! Soon I went 
 back to my weeding. Now this is all very well, but it is 
 terrible hard work. Why did I not think of it before ? 
 Get a hoe. Going to the tool-room I found one, and re- 
 turned to my work. Now, this is something like. I can 
 get on twice as fast. Dear me ! is it twelve already ? 
 Where has the morning gone ? When the children came, 
 we had dinner. Dear me ! again, how hungry I am. I 
 never had such an appetite ! After dinner, I went at it 
 again. After a while, I found my hoe so heavy that I sat 
 down on a stone seat near a bed of marigolds. They were 
 very weedy. What a pity to spend labor on them for noth- 
 ing ! I wish they had never been planted. About six, I 
 got my box and began to cut again for the next day's sale. 
 Somehow the flowers did not seem as plenty as on the day 
 before. All I could get for them, the next day, was a dollar 
 and seventy-five cents. The day after, I again tried the 
 
 weeding. I was very tired at night, but it was vastly pleas- 
 2* 
 
18 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 anter work than sewing, and already I felt the good effecta 
 of my out-door life. That evening I experienced still 
 more difficulty in filling my box. 
 
 "You cut too often," said the man in the store, the 
 next day. "If you cut every other day; you will allow 
 them time to recover, and get just as much money. You 
 did not bring my mignonnette this morning." 
 
 " No ; my bed is small, and I cut it quite close." 
 
 " You should plant another; it will come in late for fall 
 flowers." 
 
 "Where can I get seed ? " said I. 
 
 " Oh, we have it. Johnny, bring the lady an ounce of 
 mimonnette." 
 
 The boy brought the seed and placed it in my box; not 
 quite knowing what to do, I hesitated about taking it. 
 
 " I have not any room to plant more," said I. 
 
 " Make room. Pull up something else." 
 
 Taking my money, and paying the lad twenty cents for 
 the seed, I went home. 
 
 After the children had gone to school, I went into the 
 garden to make my first horticultural venture. Now what 
 shall I remove in order to gain room? Oh, the petunias. 
 Not without a pang to think I was tearing up my husband's 
 pets, I ruthlessly rooted them all out and threw them on the 
 jDath. What a deal of trouble I might have saved myself, 
 if I could have pulled up the weeds at the same time ! 
 Raking the ground smooth, I got ready to plant. Well, 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 19 
 
 how is it done? I never planted a seed in my life. 
 " Directions for planting." How nice ! Full directions 
 on the package. " Sow thinly on the surface, and rake it 
 in." And I did, and afterwards contemplated my new- 
 made bed with considerable satisfaction. It was not a large 
 bed. About twenty feet by three. 
 
 "Law sakes ! do look at Miss Gilman." 
 
 Turning round, to see where the voice that suddenly 
 broke on my ear came from, I beheld the ruddy face of my 
 next neighbor, surmounted by a "coal-scuttle" bonnet, 
 peering over the fence at me. 
 
 " Good-morning, Mrs. Jacques. Fine day, is it not?" 
 
 " Day's fine enough, but what on airth are you doing ? " 
 
 "Me? Oh, I am putting my garden to rights." 
 
 " I should say you was. Look at all them petunias lying 
 there ! I should say you was putting them to wrongs." 
 
 Finding myself caught, I replied that "I never did 
 think much of petunias. I preferred mignonnette." 
 
 "What, planting more, with all that bed full now. 
 Well, I never ! " 
 
 Upon which she put up her linen-gloved hands and dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 " I shall not hear the last of that, I know," and, gather- 
 ing up the remains of the petunias, I went into the house. 
 
 Soon after dinner, I finished the weeding, and, as there 
 did not seem' to be anything more to do that day, I im- 
 proved the time in some other way. As I intended to take 
 
20 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 the young man's advice, and not cut till the next day, I had 
 a nice long evening at my sewing. 
 
 The following morning I again inspected my garden, and 
 found the flowers were coming out grandly. All the sum- 
 mer roses seemed to be doing their best, and verbenas, 
 fuchsias, and lilies, all exhibited a cheerful show of flowers, 
 ready to be turned into money for myself and little ones. I 
 fairly laughed to see them. Perhaps if I had known how 
 much labor and trouble they would give me before the 
 summer was over I should not have been so cheerful ; yet 
 with all the labor came a sure reward. I cut an extra large 
 lot that evening. I even called the children to help me, 
 telling them I wished to send the flowers away. 
 
 I received two dollars and a half for this lot of flowers. 
 
 Again I omitted to cut the next day, and, on Saturday, 
 took in a fine lot of flowers, as I thought. I found, how- 
 ever, that my ignorance again caused me a loss. All I re- 
 ceived was one dollar and a half. Verbenas were not per- 
 manent enough. They could not be used for fine work. 
 Only choice flowers were of any value in the summer. I 
 must bring only nice green, buds, heliotrope, and choice 
 stufi". Glad that my ignorance had not cost me more, I 
 !went home to the children, quite resolved on my future 
 course. I had now found out one fact for certain. Flowers 
 could be sold readily. Could I grow enough of them to 
 support myself ? That was a question I could not answer. 
 But I could try. It would not cost much for the present, 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 21 
 
 at least, and so far everything seemed encouraging. Yes, 
 I would try. I would set up for a gardener. Why not? 
 Could not I become a florist as well as a man ? It was 
 worth trying. It being Saturday, the children were both at 
 home. After breakfast I called them to me and told them 
 what I had been doing, and of my plans for the future. 
 They did not quite understand it all, but were greatly pleased 
 with the idea of working in the garden, and gathering the 
 flowers. 
 
 "I can cut the roses with the scissors Aunt Charlotte 
 gave me. Mayn't I, mother? " 
 
 " And I can rake the walks, and pull up the weeds, just 
 as father used to do." 
 
 '* Oh, you can't rake,- Johnny. You aint big enough." 
 
 "Yes, lam.' Mother knows I can." 
 
 "Yes, dears, you shall both help mother, and we shall 
 get on famously together." 
 
 So this is the way in which I took my children into part- 
 nership, and began life as a florist. That night I made a 
 small blank-book out of a sheet of foolscap and entered 
 therein an account of the week's receipts and expenditures. 
 It stood somewhat in this wise : — 
 
 July 14. 
 
 leceivedfor flowers. 
 
 Paid. 
 
 From last week, 9 GO 
 
 For fares, .40 
 
 Kec'd this week, 7 50 
 
 " seed, .20 
 
 16 50 
 
 " fare, .80 
 
 Paid, 1 40 
 
 $140 
 
 $15 10 Net. 
 
 
22 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 Fifteen dollars and ten cents so far, and little or no 
 trouble as jet. It would be foolish to expect this all the 
 time. Flowers could not be raised for nothing, or without 
 labor. How much labor it did cost, and how much was left 
 afterwards, must be told in the next chapter. 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. *23 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 NEW FRIENDS AND NEW FLOWERS. 
 
 The next day opened fine and warm. In the morning 
 we went to church. My husband had fortunately paid for 
 pew-rent in advance; so I resolved to occupy it as long as 
 I could. I did not intend to take a back seat until obliged 
 to. In the afternoon the heat was so oppressive that I 
 stayed at home and read aloud to the children. In the midst 
 of our reading I heard a low rumble as of distant thunder. 
 Not thinking anything about it I continued reading. Again 
 the thunder pealed, and louder than before. A shower was 
 evidently approaching. Then I remembered the garden, 
 and wondered what effect the rain would have upon my 
 flowers. I must go out and have a look at it. Calling the 
 children to see the coming storm, we Went out to the yard. 
 On going outside the front gate, I looked up the village 
 street and saw dark masses of clouds piling up the north- 
 western sky. Calling their attention to the sight, I tried to 
 explain to them that, threatening and terrible as it seemed, 
 yet the rain would wash away the dust and revive the 
 grass and the flowers. 
 
 "Yes, mother," said Johnny; "but won't it spoil all 
 your flowers ? " 
 
24 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 "Why, yes. That is a bright idea, Johnny ! Now what 
 shall we do ? If we leave them where they are, we shall 
 not have very nice-looking flowers to take to the store in the 
 morning." Just then the village clock struck three. But 
 it is Sunday. We should not work on Sunday. But we 
 must. It cannot be helped. It is a work of necessity. 
 
 Getting my old box, I set the children at it, bidding them 
 be careful and not injure the beds, and yet work as fast as 
 they could. Hastily filling the box, I carried it to the 
 house, emptied the flowers out upon the kitchen table, and 
 returned for more. Suddenly I was startled by a loud 
 clap of thunder, and by the noise of persons hurrying past 
 our gate. Oh, here is the rain — and the people ! I don't 
 know which I dread most. Calling the children away, I 
 seized the box and darted into the house. Just then the 
 rain came down in torrents, and the sidewalk was filled 
 with friends and neighbors hurrying home. 
 
 " Well, that was a lucky escape ! " 
 
 But perhaps it was a foolish pride. I had no need to 
 fear the opinion of the neighbors. What I had done was 
 a work of positive necessity, and must be done even though 
 it was Sunday. 
 
 I overslept myself the next morning, and was late to the 
 train. I had hardly time to take the cars before they 
 started. The car I entered was quite full of men and boys. 
 I found an empty seat beside an elderly man, and, as 
 he kindly made room for me, I sat down. Just as I did 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 
 
 25 
 
 so. the cover of my box, which in my haste I had not fas- 
 tened down, came off, displaying the brilliant contents. 
 
 "Them's fine flowers you have, ma'am." 
 
 I stared at the man, quite surprised at what seemed to 
 me a piece of impertinence. 
 - " No offence, ma'am, but they are fine ones." 
 
 "Yes," I said, and, replacing the cover of the box, I 
 attempted to pull down my veil, to show that I did not care 
 for further conversation. 
 
 "Goodness! I've left my veil at home. What shall I 
 do now? Well, it can't be helped; I may as well put a 
 cheerful face on it. Luckily I shall not meet any one I 
 know or any of the Centre people. If I were at home I 
 should have a fit of the blues, but here I am in the city and 
 enough to do and think about in finding a market for my 
 flowers." 
 
 While I was in the flower store, who should enter but my 
 railroad acquaintance, carrying a small green box in his 
 hand ! Coming to the counter, he laid it down, and said 
 to the man : — 
 
 " Good-morning, Thomas." 
 
 "Good-morning, Mr. McTernan. Have you any white 
 flowers ? " 
 
 " Tubes, jasmines, and liliums. Will that suit ye? " 
 
 Upon which he opened his box and took out a small hand- 
 ful of wax-like white flowers, with a most overpowering 
 fragrance. All this time I had resolutely turned my back 
 
26 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 upon the two men, determined not to be recognized. But 
 my curiosity was too much for me. 
 
 " What are those flowers ? " 
 
 " Tubes, ma'am." 
 
 " Tubes ? I never saw or heard of them before ! " 
 
 " Tuberoses," suggested Thomas, behind the counter. 
 
 " Are those tuberoses ? I have heard of them, but 
 never saw them before." 
 
 ' ' Yes, ma'am," said Mr. McTernan. ' ' There's the double 
 tuberose." 
 
 He then turned out the remainder of his flowers, and 
 afterward handed to the young man, who, as I had now 
 discovered, rejoiced in the name of Thomas, a small slip of 
 paper. Thomas merely glanced at it, and, writing some- 
 thing upon it, gave it back to my travelling companion. All 
 these things I watched with interest, eager to find out all I 
 could in relation to my new trade. But the man only took 
 it and went away toward another part of the store. 
 
 On my way to the cars, I turned over in my mind what 
 I had seen and heard in regard to this to me new 
 flower. 
 
 I wonder if I could not grow tuberoses. Such flowers 
 must be valuable. I wish I had been bright enough to 
 ask the man about them. What is the use of my mis- 
 erable pride? It is always standing in my way. Just 
 because the man was illiterate, and had rough hands, I 
 had avoided him. He was neatly but plainly dressed, and 
 
OR, now I BECAME A FLORIST. 27 
 
 had a weather-stained, yet kindly and honest face. He 
 must be a — 
 
 " Ma'am? Excuse me, ma'am, but I must speak to ye a 
 moment." 
 
 Turning round to see who had the audacity to address 
 me in the public street, I found Mr. McTernan, — box 
 and all. 
 
 " Excuse me, ma'am, if I make bold to say that ye 
 mustn't sell your flowers so cheap. Ye must charge him 
 more. Make 'em pay — " 
 
 "Sir," I cried, "how dare you I What is it to you? 
 I'll thank you to leave me." 
 
 "Just as ye like. But it was for your own good I 
 was telling ye." 
 
 Somewhat mollified, I replied, "How is that?" 
 
 " Why, ye see that box of flowers ye had was worth 
 more than he gave ye." 
 
 "How do you know anything about it?" said I, 
 annoyed and perplexed at the whole adventure. 
 
 " Well, ma'am, I grows flowers myself, and I know what 
 they are worth ; and all he. gave you was two dollars for 
 the lot." 
 
 " How do you know what he gave me ? " 
 
 " I seen him hand it ye." 
 
 Now, to tell the truth, I had not looked at the money ; 
 so I opened my purse, and sure enough it was two dollars. 
 
 "And, ma'am, it's not right to take the money without 
 
28 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 looking at it. Them jQower fellows is mighty sharp some- 
 times." 
 
 All the time I walked rapidly on towards the depot ; 
 but Mr. McTernan quickened his pace, and kept by my 
 side. 
 
 Oh dear, he is, perhaps, very kind, but I do wish he 
 would go away. But he would not, and after what he had 
 said I had not the heart to be so rude as to ask him to 
 leave me. 
 
 As we entered the depot, a great crowd of people came 
 out of a newly arrived train, filling the whole building 
 and streaming for the doors. 
 
 If this man would only go away. Here come plenty of 
 my neighbors from the Centre. What will they think of 
 me in the company of this man? If I only had my veil. 
 I must give him the slip somehow. But it was of no 
 use. He gravely escorted me to our train, and stood near 
 the door for me to enter. I think I must have blushed 
 scarlet, for it did seem as if everybody in our village had 
 chosen to come to town on that particular train. Quite 
 vexed, I entered the car and took a seat in a dark corner, 
 entirely ignoring my companion. He did not seem to 
 notice it, but took a seat not far ojff, and, opening a paper, 
 began to read. As for me, I was in a perfect rage at 
 the whole affair. Will the cars never start ? Shall I 
 never get home, away from this hateful place ? I declare 
 I'll never sell another flower. I'll starve first. After a 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 29 
 
 "while we did start. The motion and the changing scene 
 turned the current of my thoughts, and I soon got over my 
 pet. 
 
 Tuberoses ! I declare, I can smell them now. How 
 lovely they were ! Wish I could grow them. I wonder 
 whether he'll tell me if I ask him ? Without another 
 thought, I boldly got up. and went over and sat down in the 
 next seat behind the man whom I had thought so rude. 
 
 "If you please, Mr. McTernan, I wish to ask your 
 pardon — " 
 
 " Pardon, ma'am ! for what? I was only telling ye for 
 your own good. You see, this is the way he does it," and 
 taking from his pocket a slip of paper, he handed it to me. 
 This is a copy of it : — 
 
 July 17. 
 Cr. James McTernan. 
 
 3 doz. Tuberoses $3 00 
 
 4 " Buds 2 00 
 
 6 " Heliotrope 1 00 
 
 2 " Jasmine 1 00 
 
 3 " Lilium Candidutu 1 50 
 
 Cut flowers 3 00 
 
 T. D. $11 50 
 
 " That is my bill. I brought those flowers in this morn- 
 ing, and that's what I got for them. Thomas puts his mark 
 on it, and then I shows it to Jane. She's the clerk. You 
 see they pay us by the dozen, so much for each sort. I'm 
 getting, as ye see, one dollar a dozen for my tubes. Now, 
 3* 
 
80 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 if je had counted the flowers je brought in, je would have 
 got more for them." 
 
 " Why, Mr. McTernan, you are indeed kind. I am 
 greatly obliged to you for telling me this. It is very good 
 in you. I had not expected such kindness from a perfect 
 stranger." 
 
 " Oh, never ye mind ; I likes to help folks if I can." 
 
 "Now, I have one favor more to ask, Mr. McTernan. 
 Tell me about the tubes, as you call them. How do you 
 grow them ? They must be valuable to command a dollar a 
 dozen." 
 
 " Yes, they is a paying flower. They aint always worth 
 that. In the fall they get down to fifty cents. Grow 'em ? 
 Oh, it's easy enough. I pots them in five inch and 
 plunges them. When they show a stem I gives a shift and 
 tie 'em up." 
 
 " Thank you. I must try a few. Where can I get some 
 seeds ? " 
 
 " Seed, ma'am ? They isn't a seed. It's a bulb. Thomas 
 Dacy has 'em for sale." 
 ■ " Thomas DaCy, who is he ? " 
 
 " The bouquet man at the store. He that buys all the 
 flowers." 
 
 Just then the train slacked up, and, looking out of the 
 window, I found that I was at home. 
 
 " Good-morning, Mr. McTernan." 
 
 " Good-morning, ma'am." 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 31 
 
 Reaching the house, I found Mary standing at the gate 
 with a folded paper in her hand, 
 
 " See, mother; fatlier's paper has come." 
 
 " What paper, dear ? " 
 
 '' The ' Agriculturist.' I found it in our box at the post- 
 ofEce. May I open it, mother ? " 
 
 " Yes, if you wish. But let us have some breakfast." 
 
 After eating our meal, and putting the house in order, 
 I went to the garden to see if the shower of yesterday 
 had done any harm. I found that it had ; the beds I 
 had raked so smooth, a few days since, were ploughed and 
 torn up by the rain, and many of the plants were broken 
 down by the wind. There were but very few flowers to be 
 seen. Most of them were soiled and faded. How fortu- 
 nate I was in cutting them yesterday afternoon ! Finding 
 things in such a deplorable condition, I resolved to spend 
 the day in repairing damages. Getting a rake from the 
 tool-house, I began to rake over the beds and put things as 
 near right as I knew how. 
 
 All the while I was so much interested in what I was 
 doing, that I paid no attention to where or how I began. 
 Indeed, I never thought of getting out of sight ; but boldly 
 went to work in full view of all the passers in the village 
 street. I had not been occupied long before I was aware of 
 some one standing on the sidewalk, and looking over the 
 fence at me. I say I was aware of it ; for I was too busy 
 to stop to look up and see who it was. 
 
32 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 Presently, whoever it was passed on. Soon some one 
 else came up, paused, and stood looking at me. Then a 
 third person joined the second, and stared over my fence. 
 But I paid no heed to them, going on with my work as 
 though there was no one there. Then the two ladies began 
 to talk to each other. I could hear every word. 
 
 "Sad, isn't it?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " They do say the blow was too much for her." 
 
 " She thinks her husband is coming home and wants his 
 garden put to rights." 
 
 " What a pity ! And the children too." 
 
 " Bad for them." 
 
 At length one of them spoke aloud, and said, " Good- 
 morning, Mrs. Gilman." 
 
 " Good-morning, good-morning," replied I, looking at 
 the pair. "Good-morning, Mrs. Smith, good-morning, 
 Mrs. Carter," — for those were the gossips' names. 
 
 " Fine day, is it not? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I say, Mrs. Gilman, have you any petunias in your 
 garden?" 
 
 " No, I pulled them all up. They don't pay." 
 
 Upon which the two women exchanged a meaning glance, 
 as much as to say, " It is true then." 
 
 " I don't think they are a profitable flower to raise." 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 33 
 
 Then another meaning look, and, with a solemn shaking 
 of heads, they departed, muttering to themselves : — 
 
 " How sad ! How sad ! " 
 
 As for me, I made a mock heroic _ flourish with my 
 rake, and executed as profound a courtesy as I knew how. 
 Then I stuck my rake up in the ground and made a speech 
 at it. And this is the speech : — 
 
 " Yes, my dears, I thank you for the news. And you, 
 too, Mrs. Jacques, for circulating the report. Insane am I ? 
 Quite mad ! and all because I, a woman, choose to become a 
 florist, and work in my garden. Insane, indeed ! Well, my 
 dears, I shall not change my plans to suit you. Perhaps if 
 you knew how I am paid, you would like to be insane too." 
 
 It being very warm after dinner, I did not venture out, 
 but decided to wait till the mid-day heat had passed off". Ac- 
 cordingly, I took my work and sat down to sew. Sewing 
 being with me almost a mechanical occupation, my thoughts 
 were free to wander where they would. And they did wan- 
 der away to tuberoses. Then the tuberose is a bulb. He 
 "pots in a five-inch, and plunges." A five-inch? What 
 can he mean by a five-inch ? A five-inch pot, perhaps. If 
 I remember rightly, I have heard my husband speak of 
 two-inch and three-inch pots. Yes, that must be it. But 
 "plunging," I never heard of that before. Just then, I 
 glanced at a ragged newspaper on the floor. Picking it up, 
 I discovered it to be " The American Agriculturist, for tho 
 Farm, Garden, and Household." Little Mary, in her eager- 
 
34 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 ness to get at the pictures, had torn it open, — hence its 
 ragged condition. Now, here is a piece of good fortune ; 
 perhaps I can find justivhat I want in this. We subscribed 
 for the paper last January, but as I was not until lately 
 at all interested in agriculture, my husband and the chil- 
 dren had been the only readers. I am sure, after the first 
 number, I had never looked at it. Now I examined it with 
 the greatest interest. But not a word could I find about 
 ''plunging" anything. Perhaps some other number may 
 have something on this point. So I went to the book-case 
 and dragged down the six preceding numbers, and, throwing 
 my work one side, gave myself up to the search. My labor 
 was all in vain ; not a syllable about " plunging " plants or 
 pots. Yet my labor was not fruitless altogether. I found 
 a world of facts and hints about the cultivation of flowers 
 that would prove of great value to me in my new profession. 
 At last I gave up the search for "plunging," and prepared 
 to go to work again in the garden. As I passed the book- 
 case on my way out, I paused and ran my eye over the 
 titles. There it is; just what I want. " Rand's Flowers 
 for the Parlor and Garden." Taking the book down and 
 turning to page 198, I found a chapter on " The Culture of 
 the Tuberose." This I carefully read through twice. But, 
 if Mr. McTernan was concise and obscure, Mr. Rand was 
 profuse and darker still. The whole chapter involved the 
 knowledge of so many facts of which I was ignorant, that 
 really I was but little wiser for reading it. 
 
OR, now I BECAME A FLORIST. 85 
 
 Determined to master the subject, I went to work to study 
 it out. The book began bj saying that a hot-bed was neces- 
 sary. Perhaps so ; but I had no hot-bed, and I knew not 
 how to make one. To be sure, another chapter informed me 
 how to prepare one ; but the whole process was quite beyond 
 me. Then I came to the words, ' ' Prepare seven-inch pots 
 with the usual drainage." There I stopped. "Seven-inch 
 pots and drainage." I declare I can make nothing of it all. 
 I might guess what " plunging " meant, and I could under- 
 stand how to tell a good bulb, if I saw it, and how much it 
 should cost. I learned also that each bulb would produce 
 from twenty to thirty flowers, after which it was valueless, 
 and must be thrown away. So much for book-farming and 
 the pursuit of knowledge under diflBculties. I know what I 
 will do, -^ — I will attack Mr. McTernan, and make him tell 
 me all about it in the minutest detail, till I fully under- 
 stand the whole. By this time it was getting towards sun- 
 down, and I resolved to return to my raking. Going to the 
 tool-room, I found the rake was gone. Well, this is pleasing, 
 no tools to work with ! Seeing Johnny near, I asked him 
 if he had seen the rake anywhere. 
 
 "Yes, Uncle Joseph came in and took it." 
 Now, I have no objection to lending tools, but I should 
 like to be consulted first. Having no rake, I could do noth- 
 ing ; so I went back to the tool-room to inspect my stock in 
 that line. If I am going to be a gardener, I must have 
 suitable tools, and everything in good order. The tool- 
 
36 MY TEN-ROD FAUM; 
 
 room was a small closet in our wood-shed. Since mj hus- 
 band's death it had hardly been entered. Opening the door 
 I found everything in the most perfect order, just as he had 
 left it the day he was killed. The sight made me sad 
 enough, but I had work to do, and must brush back the 
 tears, and give my mind to the duty nearest me. Seeing 
 things in such good condition, I then and there resolved it 
 should always be so. Neatness and order should reign in 
 my- garden and work-shop, as in my own chamber. I 
 always clung to this resolve, and to it I owe a large measure 
 of my after success. On examining the tools, I found I was 
 the possessor of two spades, a shovel, two hoes, an iron and 
 a wooden rake, and a garden line and reel, for marking out 
 beds. In one corner was a wheelbarrow, and in another a 
 pile of flower-pots of all sizes, neatly sorted and piled up in 
 rows. These I was glad to see ; perhaps I should want 
 them by and by, if I should attempt tuberoses in pots. On 
 a shelf overhead I discovered a small watering-pot, a trowel, 
 and sundry papers of seeds. In a small box on the floor I 
 found a variety of carpenter's tools. Seeing a rule among 
 them, I took it out, and, going to the pile of pots, I took up 
 one and measured the side of it from top to bottom ; then 
 another and another, but they seemed to be of all sorts and 
 sizes. Then I measured one across the top. Ah, that is 
 it ! A seven-inch pot is a pot that measures seven inches 
 from side to side, over the top. In this lame and round- 
 about way did I discover what a seven or eight inch pot 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 37 
 
 was. Delighted to find myself so well furnished for my 
 new profession, I locked the door and put the key in my 
 pocket, determined that if people wished to borrow they 
 must come to me first. 
 
 Wandering out to the garden again, I walked along till 
 I came to the bed of mignonnette I had planted the week be- 
 fore. To my delight, I found the ground entirely covered 
 with the young plants just breaking through the soil. They 
 were very thick, and formed a perfect mat over the whole 
 surface. But is this right ? Should they be so thick ? Turn- 
 ing towards the house, I went into the sitting-room, and, 
 taking up the book I had thrown down in such disgust a 
 short time before, began to search through the index for 
 mignonnette. 
 
 There was not a word about it. Finding a chapter on 
 " The Garden," I looked that through, but though I found 
 plenty of information on various other matters of impor- 
 tance, there was nothing in regard to mignonnette. Under 
 the head of " Hardy Annuals " I found something about it, 
 but nothing to help me. However, I found on the next 
 page these words : "If the plants come up very 
 thick, thin out the weakest ; you will thus give room for 
 the others, and secure a larger and a better bloom." Shut- 
 ing the book, I prepared to put the information to immediate 
 use. But it was too late. Going to the door, I found the 
 twilight just fading away, and darkness prevented further 
 efforts that day. 
 
38 MY TEN-ROD FARM: 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 TAKING LESSONS IN FLORICULTURE. 
 
 On findiDg. the next morning, that my rake had not been re- 
 turned, I went over to my brother's to look for it. Meeting 
 Joseph at the gate, I asked him if he had borrowed my 
 rake. 
 
 ''Yes." 
 
 " Well, where is it? for I wish it." 
 
 " I suppose it is lying round somewhere, — among the 
 peas perhaps." 
 
 Going into the kitchen-garden, I found the rake lying on 
 the grass, rusty and the worse for wear. Picking it up, 
 I marched home, resolved, that if people who borrowed 
 tools were so careless as to leave them out on the open 
 ground all night, they could not boi-row again. The re- 
 mainder of that morning I worked in the garden as indus- 
 triously as I could, and had the satisfaction, at noon, of 
 seeing my garden again in nice order. After dinner I 
 attacked the mignonette bed. It was terribly hard work, 
 but, with the assistance of the children, when they returned 
 from school, we accomplished the undertaking, leaving the 
 plants standing about six inches apart, every way. 
 
 That evening I cut all the flowers I could find, sorted 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 39 
 
 them, and laid them on the kitchen-table, and with a slip of 
 paper and a pencil I made a list of the flowers, as far as 
 I knew their names, with the number of dozens of each 
 sort. The next morning I was at the depot, bright and 
 early. On entering the cars, I looked about for my Mr. 
 McTernan, and, finding him readily, I bade him "Good-morn- 
 ing," and took a seat near by. After a while I ventured to 
 take out my list, and asked if he would be so kind as to tell 
 me what such a list of flowers would be worth. 
 • " That depends, ma'am, whether they are first-class or not, 
 — if they aint first-class they aint worth anything." 
 
 " Look at them," said I, " and tell me." 
 
 Carefully turning over the contents of my box, he looked 
 at them a while, then said, laconically, " Themes good 
 enough ! " 
 
 Delighted to find that my flowers were up to the market- 
 standard, I ventured to ask one more favor of him. 
 
 "Would Mr. McTernan please fill out the price on my 
 list, so that I might know what they were really worth in 
 the market? " 
 
 Putting on an old pair of silver-bowed spectacles, he 
 studied the list for a few moments and then handed it back to 
 me, saying, "I'll tell ye the price, but ye must write it 
 yourself; my hands aint used to writing." 
 
 So I took out my pencil, and, while the train stopped 
 at a way-station, hastily wrote down the figures he gave me. 
 
 When it was done, it read somewhat in this way : — 
 
40 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 6 doz. Heliotropes 
 4 " Roses, 
 i " Tea-roses, 
 1 " Liliums, 
 
 Cut flowers 
 
 $1 00 
 
 1 00 
 
 37 
 
 75 
 
 1 00 
 
 U 12 
 
 The cut flowers consisted of a number of varieties. Mr. 
 McTernan said he should "lump" those, and call them 
 "cut flowers." 
 
 After placing mj flowers on the counter in the store, I 
 quietly handed my list to the young man, Thomas. He 
 looked at it for a moment, and then very significantly at me. 
 I busied myself in tying up my box, preparatory to going 
 home. Directly he went into a brown study over my list. 
 Not knowing how long this would last, I moved as if to go. 
 Upon which he woke up, scratched something upon the 
 paper, and, handing it to me, said : — 
 
 " Show it to the book-keeper." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Thomas," I said to myself, '' I fancy 
 I am quite up to you this time. Thanks to Mr. McTernan, 
 I know the value of flowers as well as you ; " and I marched 
 ofi" triumphantly towards tjje book-keeper's desk. 
 
 When I reached the desk, I was obliged to wait a moment, 
 as the book-keeper was talking with a gentleman. While 
 waiting thus I had an opportunity to have a good look at 
 her, and I found her a young lady, small, plainly dressed in 
 black, with delicate hands, and a face at once pleasant, 
 cheerful, and just a grain pretty. Seated behind her hand- 
 some walnut desk, with the huge ledger spread out before 
 
OR, now I BECAME A FLORIST. 41 
 
 her, she made quite a charming picture. When she had 
 finished her business, she turned to me and held out her 
 hand for mj paper. Taking it, she looked at it a moment, 
 and then said : — 
 
 "What name? " 
 
 " Oilman." 
 
 " Does Mr. Oilman keep a private place? " 
 
 "Mr. Oilman? There is no Mr. Oilman," said I, en- 
 deavoring to be as calm as possible. 
 
 "Excuse me. Does Miss or Mrs. Oilman keep the 
 house?" 
 
 "Keep the house? Why, I am Mrs. Oilman. Of 
 course, I keep my own house." 
 
 " Yes, but is it a private or a commercial house? " 
 
 " Really, I do not understand you at all." Then she ex- 
 plained to me that all greenhouses are divided into private 
 or commercial. The private houses belong to people who 
 follow some other occupation, or, being wealthy, keep a 
 greenhouse for their own pleasure, and, having more flowers 
 than they can use themselves, sell a portion in the market. 
 The commercial houses are owned by the florists proper, who 
 make it their business to grow flowers, and do nothing else. 
 
 Comprehending the distinction, I said that my place was 
 a commercial one. 
 
 " Where is your greenhouse ? " 
 
 " I have only a garden, — no greenhouse as yet. I am a 
 
 widow, and live at the Centre." 
 4=1 
 
42 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 Finding also that she desired to know more, I gave her 
 my whole story up to that time. 
 
 " Indeed, Mrs. Gilman, I am greatly interested in what 
 you say, and can hut applaud what you propose to do. 
 The only wonder to me is that some one has not tried this 
 before. Perhaps I can be of use to you in some direction. 
 Now, is there any way in which I can help you ? I know 
 very little about raising flowers, but I can assist you as far 
 as selling them is concerned." 
 
 " Thank you, you are very kind. Doubtless you will 
 be able to help me often. Yes, you can do so now." 
 
 " That is pleasant. What is it? " 
 
 " Tell me about tuberoses. Does it pay to grow them? 
 how long does it take to get them to flower ? and where can 
 I buy them ? " 
 
 " One thing at a time. First, I suppose it does pay, for 
 they all grow them. They bloom in ninety days, I think ; 
 and we have them for sale. But I am afraid you are too 
 late, this year. In ninety days we must expect frosty 
 weather, and, unless you have a greenhouse to put them 
 in, you had better not attempt it this season. You will 
 soon learn in gardening that, if a thing is not done at just 
 such a time, it cannot be done again for a whole year." 
 
 " Perhaps I can keep them in my dining-room window." 
 
 The young lady smiled at my query, and said she had never 
 heard of such a thing, but that it might be worth trying on 
 a small scale. 
 
OR, now I BECAME A FLORIST, 43 
 
 "Johnny, bring me some tubes." 
 
 Johnny dived downstairs, and soon returned with a small 
 quantity of curious-looking bulbs, quite dry and dusty. 
 
 " That's all there are left, miss. Only twenty in all." 
 
 " What is the price ? " asked I. 
 
 " A dollar and a half a dozen. But, as you are in the 
 trade, we will take off something. You may have the lot 
 for a dollar." 
 
 I decided to take them, and Johnny turned them into my 
 box. 
 
 Then, placing my name and the date at the top of my 
 paper, she made a note of it, and, handing it to me with a 
 smile, began turning the leaves of her book. Bidding her 
 good-morning, I took my bill and departed, thankful and 
 happy ; happy in meeting with success in my morning's 
 sale, and thankful in finding such a friend as Miss Samp- 
 son, the book-keeper, bid fair to be. 
 
 As I walked away, I passed a large dry goods store, with 
 the shutters still up. Glancing at the door to see what it 
 could mean, I saw a placard on the glass : " Taking Stock. 
 Open next Monday." Now, there is an idea for me. Those 
 business-men are taking an account of stock. I am a 
 business woman and should follow their example. I'll do 
 so before I go deeper into the business. But how about 
 the money this morning ? All I have is my list of flowers. 
 What is that worth? I can't sell it, what shall I do? Will 
 it ever be good for anything ? Will they cash it at the 
 
44 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 store? Not a very business-like proceeding on my part 
 after all. I'll go back and see about it. No, I'll consult 
 Mr. McTernau. Finding him in the car, I asked what I 
 should do with my list. 
 
 " Keep it, and, at the end of the month, they will give a 
 check for it." 
 
 " Next, if you please, Mr. McTernan, I would like to 
 know more about tubes." 
 
 "Well, ma'am, I am planting some this afternoon, and, 
 if ye come to my place, at Maple Hill, ye' 11 see it done. 
 My place is near the depot. Anybody will tell ye when 
 ye get from the cars." 
 
 " Thank you, I must try to be there." 
 
 Just as I was leaving the cars, when we reached the Cen- 
 tre, I met Joseph. 
 
 " Good-morning, Maria, I was just looking for you." 
 
 "Well, what is it?" 
 
 " I have found a man who would like to buy your 
 house." 
 
 " But I do not intend to sell ; I prefer to keep it for the 
 present." 
 
 "Keep your house? Why, how can you stand the ex- 
 pense? " 
 
 " That's a question I hope to decide in time. Perhaps 
 Providence will help me if I help myself." 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense, Maria. I don't wonder people 
 talk about you as they do." 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 45 
 
 To this I paid no heed, but turned towards home. 
 
 " Stop a moment, Maria. Now be sensible for once. 
 How are you going to support yourself and your children 
 in this house? " 
 
 " By the labor of my two hands." 
 
 " Oh, that's all very well, but I am afraid you will find 
 it pretty poor pickings. What can a woman do ? " 
 
 "Joseph," I cried, "if Mr. Gilman were alive, you 
 would not dare to say this. I'll thank you to say no more. 
 I can, and shall, take care of myself." 
 
 Upon which he left me, muttering something about the 
 fools not being all dead. I quite agreed with him. 
 
 That morning I spent at my housework. To tell the 
 truth, this had been sadly neglected for the previous week. 
 By dinner-time everything was finished up square, and all 
 the threads gathered together and ready to go on again as 
 smoothly as ever. 
 
 After clearing away the dinner things, I told the children 
 that, as they had a half holiday, Ave would all go out for a 
 walk over Maple Hill. It was my intention to visit Mr. 
 McTernan's place, and see what information I could pick 
 up in regard to tuberoses or anything else. At first, I 
 thought of going up in the train ; but the fares for us all 
 would be, at least, thirty cents. Only a trifle, to be sure ; 
 but then it would not take many such trifles to use up my 
 daily receipts. So off we started on our two-mile tramp, 
 the children happy and gay as possible, ready to see and 
 
46 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 enjoj everything, and I quiet and at peace -with everybody. 
 Hopeful for the future, and encouraged by the fortunate 
 turn my affairs had taken in the past few days, I found my- 
 self fully alive to all the beauty and charm of the day and 
 scenery, and with a sense of freedom and perfect health I 
 had never known before. On leaving the village, and get- 
 ting into the open country, I involuntarily glanced at the 
 blue sky. All was clear and bright, and not a cloud to 
 be seen, save in the far south-west, where a thin, gauze-like 
 cloud streamed upward and outward over the wooded hills, 
 in shape like a fan. In the east a low, brown bank of 
 smoke from the city drifted up the valley, where the river 
 courses to the sea. What does that mean ? I said to my- 
 self. Not a storm, I hope. It was strange how quickly I 
 had become apprehensive of the weather, and how keenly I 
 had learned to watch for a change. Talking with the 
 children, and admiring the lovely views on every hand, and 
 feasting upon the wild raspberries by the roadside, we found 
 ourselves entering Maple Hill village much sooner than we 
 expected. Ours was a short and pleasant walk, and short 
 because it was pleasant. 
 
 On reaching Mr. McTernan's we entered his gate, and 
 in a moment found ourselves in a perfect wilderness of flow- 
 ers, drawn up in solid and orderly ranks, spread out in 
 glowing masses, here, there, and everywhere. Huge beds of 
 dazzling scarlet, great clouds of white, all colors and 
 shades, mingled in charming confusion. Kose-beds literally 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 47 
 
 glowing with color, and asters as thick as herd's grass, 
 waved in the breeze like a field of wheat. Well, I don't 
 wonder he can cut ten dollars a day from such a garden. 
 Oh, I wish I was not so mercenary ! Thinking of money 
 as soon as I enter a garden like this. 
 
 Seeing a man at work we approached him, and found 
 him busily at work making a row of small holes in the 
 earth. '' For what purpose do you design those holes ? " I 
 ventured to ask. 
 
 *' Plunging, ma'am." 
 
 Not being much the wiser for this. I was about to ques- 
 tion him further, but he appeared to be so uncommunicative, 
 that I merely said : — 
 
 "Where is Mr. McTernan?" 
 
 "Yonder, in the shed. Walk right in the door ye see 
 standing open next the greenus," 
 
 Sending the- children to search out new wonders among 
 the flowers, I entered the door as directed. 
 
 The sight that met my view was not a pleasant one at 
 first, and I am afraid I showed my disappointment in my 
 face. There stood my honest acquaintance before a rude 
 bench, on which was a huge pile of dirt. He was roughly 
 dressed, with his sleeves rolled up, and eagerly plunging his 
 bare hands and arms through and through the heap of 
 loam before him. 
 
 " Good-afternoon, ma'am. Clean dirt, marm," — then a 
 dig at the pile. " Just in time, ma'am," — another plunge. 
 
48 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 "Just going to pot 'em. This is the stuff, — clean — fine 
 — and — rich as butter." Another dive, another, and 
 
 then a good slapping together of his hands, to shake off 
 
 * 
 the soil. Hastily brushing a seat with his apron, he offered 
 
 it to me, saying : — 
 
 " Take a seat, and you shall see the whole thing in a 
 
 jiffy-" 
 
 Thanking him, I sat down, not quite at my ease, how- 
 ever, in such a scene. 
 
 "Now, if you watch me, ye' 11 learn by seeing in half 
 the time I'd be telling ye." 
 
 So saying, he took up a clean new flower-pot, and, tak- 
 ing from a box near by a handful of broken pots pounded 
 up fine, he threw it into the pot, filling it about an inch 
 deep. He then filled the pot nearly full of soil from the 
 heap. Taking a bulb from a basket and holding it upright 
 with one hand in the soil in the pot, he fille.d up the re- 
 mainder of the pot with the other hand. Giving the pot 
 a gentle rap on the bench, he set it on one side ; going 
 through the same operation, he next finished another. 
 Quickening his motions, he began to do them very fast. 
 Becoming interested in the ease and rapidity with which 
 he worked, I left my seat, and came and stood close to the 
 bench. Soon the rows of pots grew to a goodly size, 
 and the busy workman stopped, and said : — 
 
 " There, ye see the whole story so fiir. After they have 
 been watered the man will plunge them, up to the rim of 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLOMST. 49 
 
 the pot, in the ground, and in about a month they will 
 be taken up, shifted into the next size pot, and plunged 
 again. If they are very tall, I stick a stake in the pot and 
 tie 'em to it to keep the wind from breaking them off. 
 They's very tender." 
 
 "Yes, I think I understand it all now, except the shift- 
 ing." 
 
 " Shifting is taking a plant out of one size pot, and put- 
 ting it into the next size." 
 
 " Why, there is nothing difficult in that." 
 
 " No, it's dreadful easy when ye know how." 
 
 Just at this moment the door, that had been standing 
 open, suddenly swung to with a loud slam. 
 
 "Wind's changed ! East, I guess. Going to have a 
 storm to-morrow. I knew it would be east soon ; I saw 
 the wind coming up the river awhile since." 
 
 " Saw the wind? " 
 
 "Yes; didn't ye see it as ye came along? the smoke 
 from the chimblies was a-going for it.. But wait a bit, 
 till I shut up." 
 
 Upon this, he opened another door and stepped into the 
 greenhouse. Presently he returned, and said : — 
 
 " Will ye see me take off the air? " 
 
 Wondering what that might be, I followed him to the 
 greenhouse. 
 
 "Now, ye see them ventilators up there; well, they are 
 open to let out the heat, but the wind has changed, and 
 5 
 
60 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 these plants won't stand east wind; so I takes off the air 
 in this way ; " and, going to a large iron wheel fastened upon 
 the wall, he began to turn it round by a handle affixed 
 to the side. Instantly every window in the roof began to 
 close, and soon they were all shut. 
 
 " Why, I could do that. Please let me try ; " and I did, 
 opening and closing them with the greatest ease, by merely 
 turning the crank. 
 
 Now that is a revelation. As far as ventilation is 
 concerned, I could conduct a greenhouse as well as a 
 man. 
 
 Returning to his shed, he began his potting again. 
 Suddenly he stopped, and without a word went out of 
 doors. 
 
 Now's my chance. I'll try it myself. Throwing back 
 my shawl, I boldly thrust my ungloved hand into the heap 
 of soil. How odd ! I expected to find it very dirty and 
 disagreeable. On the contrary, it's rather nice. Seizing 
 a pot and a bulb, I potted it, going through all the motions 
 to the final rap on the bench. "There, I fancy that's 
 even better than he can do it, for my hands are not so 
 rough and leave the work looking much nicer. Really, 
 this is much pleasanter than mixing dough or sewing on 
 slop-work." Hearing some one coming, I hastily shook 
 my hands, when, to my surprise, every traice of the soil 
 came ofi", and they were as clean as ever. When Mr. 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 51 
 
 McTernan opened the door, he saw what I had been doing, 
 and, breaking out into a loud laugh, said : — 
 
 " Well, je are a smart un, aint ye ? " 
 
 Finding the sun going down, I called the children and, 
 bidding him good-night, we started for home. A great 
 change had come over things by this time. A cool east 
 wind was blowing, and all the western sky was overcast. 
 We reached home tired, hungry, and in excellent spirits. 
 
 P 
 
52 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 TAKING STOCK. 
 
 The next morning opened with a dull, cold, easterly 
 storm. As I could do nothing out of doors, I spent the 
 morning at housework. After dinner I took pen and 
 paper to carry out my intention of taking an account of 
 stock. First, I made a list of the tools ; then, going to the 
 book-case, I took down all the books I could find on the 
 subject of gardening; these I also considered as tools and 
 aids in my new profession. The books had been purchased 
 by my husband at different times ; but, to tell the truth, 
 I had never examined them, not being interested in that 
 direction. The first book I took up was " The Fruit 
 Garden," by Mr. Barry, of Rochester, N. Y. This did 
 not strike me as being anything of value to me in re- 
 gard to flowers ; yet perhaps the general principles of the 
 book might be valuable ; so I laid it aside for future ref- 
 erence. Then I opened "Country Life; a Hand-book 
 of Agriculture, Horticulture, and Landscape Gardening," 
 by R. Morris Copeland. This seemed to me to be just what 
 I wanted. I next found an old copy of " Breck's Book of 
 Flowers," and these, with Rand's " Flowers for the Parlor 
 and Garden," made up my library. I ought to include 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 53 
 
 also an odd volume of " The Gardener's Monthly," and six 
 numbers of "The American Agriculturist." As the rain 
 continued to fall, I did not venture into the garden to make 
 a list of the stock of growing plants out of doors ; but, 
 opening my husband's desk, searched through his papers 
 for any bills of plants he might have purchased for the 
 garden, as the bills would show the original cost of my 
 plants. I found quite a number of them, but could not 
 make out all the details ; indeed, to be honest, I did not 
 know the names of all the flowers I had in my grounds. 
 For instance, hybrid perpetual roses were entered at four 
 dollars a dozen, and tea roses at the same price. But what 
 the diiference was, I could not understand. So the bills 
 helped me but little as far as the prices were concerned. 
 Some things I understood readily, — such as heliotrope, 
 which was put down at a dollar and a half per dozen. Tak- 
 ing this as a starting point, I could easily arrive at the cost 
 and then estimate the probable return from the four dozen 
 heliotrope plants in my possession. They cost six dollars. 
 I had cut already at least one dozen flowers, nine different 
 days. This, at a shilling a dozen, would be nine dollars, 
 leaving me three dollars for the labor already spent in their 
 cultivation. How much I might expect to cut for the re- 
 mainder of the summer was more than I could guess ; yet 
 I felt safe in estimating a return of three dollars a week 
 until the frost should destroy them in the fall. Thus it 
 was plain, if I could make all my flowers pay at this rate, 
 
 6* 
 
54 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 the whole question of my support was settled for the next 
 two months. What I might do after that, when the winter 
 came, was a question to be answered by and by. I was not 
 so foolish as to think that I could make all the flowers yield 
 such a return, yet, if one-half of them did as well, it was 
 safe to go on with my new pursuit. Truly can I say, I 
 Had abundant reason to be contented and thankful with my 
 condition and prospects. 
 
 The storm continued all that night and the greater part 
 of the next day. Towards evening the rain ceased, and, 
 putting on an old straw hat, I ventured into the garden 
 among the still dripping plants. I was apprehensive I should 
 not be able to cut any flowers. Many of the plants were 
 soiled and broken, yet I gathered a box full, and, carrying 
 them to the house, dipped them, one at a time, in clean 
 water, to remove the dirt. This operation I found injurious 
 to some of them. The geraniums were quite spoiled, but the 
 foliage and petals of the others seemed to be the better for 
 the bath. 
 
 The next morning I was complimented on the nice ap- 
 pearance of my flowers by Thomas. He endorsed my list, 
 and, after showing it to Miss Sampson, I returned 
 home. 
 
 Having finished my household duties, I turned my atten- 
 tion to the subject of tuberoses. Going into the woodshed, 
 I procured two empty flour barrels, and placed them side 
 by side near the window. Getting some pieces of board, a 
 
OR, now I BECAME A FLORIST. 55 
 
 few nails, and a hammer, I managed to construct with my 
 own hands my first potting bench. It was a sorry-looking 
 aflFair, but would answer my purpose quite as well as if I 
 had ordered a carpenter to make it, at an expense which I 
 could not afford. One thing I was determined to avoid, and 
 that was debt. By making my own bench, as I have de- 
 scribed, I steered clear of this rock, on which so many are 
 wrecked. Next, getting a coal-hod and a spade, I procured 
 the richest soil I could find in my garden, and in an hour 
 had the satisfaction of seeing my tuberoses potted, plunged, 
 and in order. 
 
 The following morning I was up in good season, resolved 
 to finish taking an account of stock before the heat became 
 oppressive. My garden was at one side of the house, and 
 extended along the street for ten rods. The width was about 
 seventy-five feet. The ground was not cut up with walks ; 
 a single narrow path ran through the middle, leaving al- 
 most the entire space for cultivation. The plants were set 
 out in solid rows, filling the whole ground from one end to 
 the other. All the plants of a sort were placed by them- 
 selves. First came the roses, of all kinds, planted in regu- 
 lar ranks ; then my four dozen heliotropes, then a quantity 
 of lilium candidum, as Mr. McTernan called them. Ad- 
 joining was a broad strip of verbenas, and next a bed of 
 mignonnette. Beyond were several rows of white flowers, 
 — feverfews, I supposed, — several also of double gillyflowers, 
 a row of geraniums, some ranks of larkspur, six full rows of 
 
56 MY TEI^-ROD FARM; 
 
 pinks (carnations, I think Thomas called them), and two 
 rows of salvias, not yot in flower. A row of asters, just 
 showiAg their buds, three rows of useless marigolds, then 
 my new lot of mignonnette, and lastly, next the fence, fuchsias. 
 Such, with a portion which I could not name, was my stock 
 in trade. On consulting the bills I found the whole lot of 
 plants had been purchased the spring before at a total cost 
 of about seventy-five dollars. My tools and books I valued 
 at fifteen dollars, and I entered the whole at an appraisal of 
 ninety dollars accordingly. 
 
 Not finding anything further requiring attention out of 
 doors I returned to my mending. That being soon finished 
 I took my books again. Perhaps I can find something in 
 them that will be of use to me. Opening Mr. Copeland's 
 " Country Life," I found that the arrangement of the chap- 
 ters was just what I needed. Each month all the important 
 operations on the farm, in the greenhouse or flower garden, 
 were taken up and discussed, so that I should know in ad- 
 vance what was to be done throughout the year. As July 
 ..was nearly over, I turned to the seventy-seventh chapter on 
 the garden in August ; and there I read these words : "If 
 you would have the full mid-summer glory in your flower 
 garden be constant and careful in your attendance upon it." 
 That's 'just the point. 
 
 I must follow it up carefully, and keep things in perfect 
 order. Having finished the chapter, I turned to ' ' Hints 
 about Work" in the August number of "The Gardener's 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 57 
 
 Monthly," and in the newly arrived " Agriculturist," to 
 learn what my duties would be for that month, noAV so soon to 
 overtake me ; and, to be frank, at first I was fairly bewil- 
 dered and discouraged. Such an overwhelming amount of 
 work to be done ! I was in despair at the prospect. If my 
 garden requires all this attention I may as well give it up 
 at once. How could I ever expect to get through with such 
 an immense amount of work ? Quite disappointed to think 
 I had embarked on such a laborious undertaking, I ventured 
 out of doors to see if it were possible that there was so much 
 to be done, and to consider whether I had not better abandon 
 the whole project. Walking slowly along the path, I exam- 
 ined every plant to discover what ought to be done first, or, 
 if anything should be done at all. Just as I reached the 
 fuchsias I was startled by the sound of a'*voice from near the 
 fence. 
 
 " Evening, Miss Oilman ! " Looking up I discovered 
 Mrs. Jacques peering over the fence at me. 
 
 " Good evening, Mrs. Jacques," I replied. 
 
 " What on airth are you doing in your garden? If I 
 should go puttering round all day like that, my man would 
 say I was an old fool ! " 
 
 " I suppose he would," said I. 
 
 " Yes, he would, and rightly too ! " 
 
 " Doubtless." 
 
 " Come now, what are you doing all day among the 
 posies ? " 
 
58 MY TEX-ROD FARM; 
 
 " Gardening, for my support." 
 
 " Gardening for a living? You don't say so. How much 
 do you get ? " 
 
 " That depends upon the kind of flowers I raise." 
 
 This somewhat confused her ; after a pause she returned 
 to the charge. 
 
 ' ' Do you make it pay, Mrs. Gilman ? My man says 
 farming never will pay." 
 
 A little provoked with the woman. I replied that I thought 
 he might be a good authority on the point, for I had never 
 heard that he made anything pay. 
 
 " Pay or no, he aint such a fool as to stand round in a 
 flower garden, all day, anyhow ! " 
 
 " I suppose not. It is so much more manly 'standing 
 round all day,' with a yard-stick in one hand and a pair of 
 scissors in the. other." 
 
 This shot told, for with a flout she disappeared. Turning 
 towards the house I was surprised to discover a nicely dressed 
 young gentleman standing in the path just before me, appar- 
 ently .very much taken up with my pinks. He was tall, 
 well made, with a full-bearded face, that indicated at once 
 good sense, education, and refinement. When he had fin- 
 ished examining the pinks, he came towards me, and taking 
 off his hat very politely said, "Pardon the intrusion, but 
 seeing your plants in nursery rows and in such perfect order, 
 I guessed it must be a sales-place, and ventured in. Am I 
 right?" 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 59 
 
 " Yes, more than right. I do sell flowers, and jou are 
 free to examine if jou wish." 
 
 ' ' You have some fine carnations, and they are in good order." 
 
 "Are the J? I am glad to hear it." 
 
 " And your hybrid roses, too, are blooming very late. 
 They are generally gone before this. Your garden evidently 
 belongs to a gardener." 
 
 " It was my husband's garden. He is dead now. Since 
 he died I have taken care of it myself" 
 
 " Indeed ! and you sell the flowers too ? " 
 
 "Yes, I am my own gardener, saleswoman, and every- 
 thing else." 
 
 " Really, I am glad to hear it. I have long had an idea 
 that women could become florists, as well as men. I am 
 myself a florist, and as we are of one trade let me introduce 
 myself Edwin Felix. My greenhouses are on the turn- 
 pike, about two miles from here." 
 
 " Thank you, sir. I am pleased to make your acquaint- 
 ance. I^ut do not consider, or call me, a florist. I know 
 absolutely nothing about it. Not nearly so much as did 
 my husband, Mr. Gilman." 
 
 ' ' Doubtless you can soon learn. Have you read any 
 books on the subject ? " 
 
 ' ' I have merely glanced at one or two, but they tell me so 
 many things I am in despair at the prospect. I do not 
 know where to begin." 
 
 " I'can understand your case. The books are important, 
 
60 
 
 MY TEN-ROD FARM 
 
 yet it is only out-door practice that will make your read- 
 ing of value. May I venture to tell you wliat to do first? " 
 
 *' Certainly." 
 
 "You see these roses are divided into two sorts. These, 
 having thick, rough leaves, are hybrid perpetuals. They are 
 not quite perpetual in this country, yet with care you can 
 get a second crop in September. You see there are no buds 
 left, only full-blown roses. When these are gone there will 
 be no more unless you cut them down with a sharp knife." 
 So saying, he took out his knife and cut oflf a fine rose, stem 
 and all. " It is better to cut them thus. It exhausts the 
 plant more to bloom one full rose than to grow six buds. 
 Besides, a new growth will start, and more flowers follow. 
 The more flowers you cut the more you will have. This 
 applies to almost all flowers. All plants seem determined 
 to produce a certain quantity of flowers. If unmoles^ted, 
 they will perfect the flowers and then stop. If the flowers 
 are removed, the plant at once sets to work to replace them. 
 If they are again removed, it makes still another effort. I 
 would not advise the culture of the hybrids for profit. 
 The tea roses are the only true perpetuals." 
 
 To this I listened with the closest attention, eager to 
 learn all I could. Then, turning to the pinks, he pointed 
 out how they should be tied up to stakes to prevent them 
 falling to the ground. This, with weeding and keeping the 
 soil open, was all that my garden required at present. 
 
 " Po not be discouraged, Mrs. Oilman. Persevere, and 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 61 
 
 you will be sure to prosper. When I pass this way again, 
 I will tell you what to do next." So saying, he departed. 
 
 Here, then, is another friend ! Providence is certainly 
 lending me a helping hand. 
 
 No sooner, however, was one difiBculty settled, when an- 
 other came up. What should I do about moiiey matters ? 
 The cards I received from the flower store would not pay 
 Mr. Hardtack the grocer, nor would Sharpedge & Co. give 
 me meat for them. I do not mean to run into debt ; indeed, 
 I must not. Could I forget Mrs. Warren's experience in 
 " How I managed my house on ,£200 a year " ? Her open- 
 ing chapter made too deep an impression on me, to leave me 
 easy under debt. Yet, for all that, I had to yield. My 
 children must be fed, and to be able to work in my garden 
 I must have good, substantial food. The final result Avas 
 my obtaining credit at the stores till the end of the month. 
 When that time arrived, I presented all my tickets or checks, 
 and was paid promptly in full. That very morning I settled 
 every bill, and had something left besides. 
 
 My whole income from the sale of flowers (including the 
 fifteen dollars I mentioned before) amounted to forty-five 
 dollars and fifty cents. By economy and care, we managed 
 to live on a trifle less than this. To be sure, we had no 
 rent to pay, and no repairs were needed at present. I had 
 the interest on the mortgage and the taxes to pay, but neither 
 were due till December. Perhaps by that time I shall be 
 able to meet them. 
 
 6 
 
62 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 ■ CHAPTER V. 
 
 A LONG LOOK AHEAD. 
 
 The month of August passed with very much the same 
 record as July. My flowers continued to grow and bloom 
 abundantly. They did not, however, yield me so much more 
 money. Fifty dollars was all I received for the whole month. 
 It was the dull season, I was told. Everybody in the country 
 had their own flowers, and the city consumers were at the 
 sea-side, or at the mountains. I kept my garden in perfect 
 order all the time, and with but little labor. In fact, I had 
 quite as much leisure as I had ever known. Once I visited 
 'Mr. McTernan, gathering much useful information. Mr. 
 Felix called again, and seemed to find me doing well enough 
 to be left to myself till the first of September, when, he 
 said, many things would require attention. 
 
 My doings, I found, had made a great stir in the village. 
 All sorts of stories were afloat in regard to me. Some 
 laughed at me, some pitied, and none helped me, save the 
 two store-keepers and strangers I met in the way of busi- 
 ness. 
 
 At the close of the first week of September, I felt the 
 first chill of the coming winter. My thermometer at my 
 front door fell one morning to forty degrees. Thereupon, I 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 63 
 
 fell to thinking. Yes, I began to think. I had learned to 
 think now. With my out-door life had come increased 
 bodilj and mental capacity. The fresh air had improved 
 my physique, and work had calmed down my mind, and 
 turned my thoughts to more cheerful subjects. This, too, 
 ought to be added to the profits of my undertaking, for is 
 not health worth more than money ? But what am I to do 
 now, about money itself? According to the thermometer, I 
 have come within eight degrees of being without it. Let the 
 glass fall to thirty-two degrees, and my income from the garden 
 is at an end. As soon as we have a frost I shall be utterly 
 without means for the next eight months. I had anticipated 
 this, but had not given it very serious attention. Something 
 must be done, and quickly. I will consult the books. " The 
 Gardener's Monthly" thought it high time to get ready 
 for winter. "The Agriculturist" was in favor of taking 
 things in hand early, and recommended removing tender 
 plants to the house. Mr. Copeland informed me that the 
 florist's year began with September. Now is the time to 
 begin the year by gathering the plants together, preparatory 
 to removing them to the greenhouse. That's it ! They 
 are all getting their greenhouses ready. And I have none ! 
 Suppose I build one ? It is not to be thought of It would 
 cost several thousand dollars, and all I have is the two thou- 
 sand dollars I received as the insurance on my husband's 
 life. No, I must do something else. I must take in sewing, 
 and struggle through the winter, until my flower garden 
 
64 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 will again make a return. Busy with the problem, I heard 
 the bell ring, and, going to the door, found Mr. Felix on the 
 steps. 
 
 " Excuse me, Mrs. Oilman, I am in a hurry. I wish 
 some flowers to fill an order. Will you cut me some ? *' 
 
 " With pleasure," said I, and we both went to the garden. 
 Taking out his knife he began to cut the tea-rose buds, say- 
 ing, at the same time : — 
 
 " Please, Mrs. Oilman, cut me six dozen heliotrope." 
 
 We both worked rapidly, and in a few moments he placed 
 three dozen buds with my heliotropes. Taking out his purse, 
 he prepared to pay me. 
 
 " Six dozen heliotropes, at a shilling, will be one dollar, 
 and the buds will be a dollar and a half," said I. 
 
 "More than that, Mrs. Oilman," said he, with a smile. 
 " The cool nights have sent the price of flowers up. Roses 
 sell at a dollar a dozen, and heliotrope advanced to twenty- 
 five cents to-day, — four dollars and a half" And, handing 
 me that amount, he took the flowers and going to his car- 
 riage that stood at the gate drove rapidly away. 
 
 " There goes an honest man, and a gentleman," thought 
 I. So the price of flowers has neady doubled. The early 
 frosts will soon kill off the garden-flowers, and then those 
 who have greenhouses will control the market. In fact, only 
 they will have any flowers to sell at all. I have supported 
 myself by my garden for two months, earning nearly one 
 hundred dollars, and now, in spite of all I can do, my income 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 65 
 
 is at an end. And'my mignonnette too, that will be destroyed 
 also. It is paying me twenty cents a day, and perhaps, to- 
 morrow it will be dead. And my tuberoses also, what can 
 I do with them ? I can put them in my windows, but all I 
 shall get for them will not support me for more than two 
 weeks. And what then ? Really I wish I had a green- 
 house. Wonder what they do cost ? I'll consult Mr. 
 Rand on the point. Opening the book I read the entire 
 first chapter. Then I shut the volume, and made up my 
 mind on the spot, — I will build a greenhouse. The next 
 thing was action. No time must be lost, if I wished to have 
 the house ready before winter set in. I cast about for au- 
 thorities on the subject. The books I had read through 
 long ago, and I had a very tolerable idea of the different 
 styles of horticultural structures. Woman-like, I first 
 consulted a woman, — Miss Sampson. She was at first 
 frightened at the boldness of my schemes. Yet she gave 
 me a helping hand, and advised my visiting some of the best 
 greenhouses in the neighborhood, and see for myself their 
 cost, and the advantages of the different patterns. 
 
 I followed her hint at once, and, taking the cars, Avent to 
 Massawatamie Highlands, and in the course of the day visited 
 three different establishments. The first consisted of two 
 enormous lean-to houses, several hundred feet in length. 
 (By a lean-to, I found they meant a house having but one 
 sloping glass roof, facing the south, and with covered sheds 
 on the north side. ) On entering I found a broad walk, 
 
66 MY TE^-ROD FARM; 
 
 running the whole length of the building. Between the 
 walk and the south wall was a long table containing plants 
 in pots. 
 
 On the other side and against the north wall was a bank 
 of wooden steps rising like broad stairs almost to the roof. 
 This, also, was covered with plants in pots. Along the path 
 ran a number of iron pipes. These, I guessed, were for 
 heating the building in winter. After looking about a short 
 time, and wondering at the great strength and weight of the 
 building, I found the proprietor, and ventured to ask the 
 cost of such a structure. " Ten thousand dollars, and not 
 a cent less." I did not stay to put any more questions. 
 That settled the whole matter for me. I must not even 
 dream of greenhouses. But as long as I had come to 
 Massawatamie I ventured to glance at the, next place, al- 
 though quite sure I could never indulge in building. This 
 place, likewise, had large lean-to houses, and, in addition, a 
 house with two glass roofs, one against the other. This, I 
 learned, was called a span-roof. Inside, I found two walks, 
 one on each side, with the steps, or stagey placed in the mid- 
 dle, and following the line of the roof. And here was an- 
 other trouble for poor me. How could I ever get up and 
 down those steep steps to cut the flowers or water and tend the 
 plants ? I could not do it. It was wholly out of the ques- 
 tion. The cost of such a house, I was told, was thirty 
 dollars a running foot. That is, if the house was fifty feet 
 long, it would cost fifteen hundred dollars, without the heat- 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 67 
 
 ing apparatus. This seemed more cheerful, but not enough 
 so to warrant my erecting such a structure. The third 
 place resembled the others, excepting that everything 
 seemed cheaper and plainer. In this, too, I found the same 
 alarmingly high stages, and as I watched a man at work 
 upon them I felt sure I never should possess the strength 
 or the steadiness required for such a position. 
 
 In the train home I met Mr. McTernan, and ventured to 
 approach him on the subject I was interested in. 
 
 " Well, ma'am, they don't cost much, if ye builds 'em 
 cheap. I gets a carpenter to build mine, and has 'em made 
 kinder rough and cheap. They don't last as long, not more'n 
 six years, but they does grow the flowers. I generally cal- 
 culates to pay for 'em in two years, and when they tumbles 
 down, I builds another. Come and see me, and I'll show 
 ye all about 'em." 
 
 And I did so, the very next day. He showed me a house 
 one hundred feet long, and twelve feet wide, which, he said, 
 cost, heating apparatus, stage, and all, about a thousand 
 dollars. It was a rough affair indeed, very rude, if not 
 shabby. Yet it was filled with flowers in the most vigor- 
 ous and healthy condition. 
 
 "How much do you cut from such a building, Mr. 
 McTernan?" 
 
 " Well, I gets about five dollars a day, take it all the year 
 round, sometimes more, and sometimes nothing at all for a 
 month." 
 
68 MY TEN-KOD FARM; 
 
 " You think it a profitable operation then? " 
 
 " Well, ma'am, I can't saj as to that, — I aint very good 
 at figgers, — but my greenhouse keeps me and my folks, and 
 I always has a little money besides ; but, bless ye, I can't keep 
 it, — I always was a spending money since I was a boy." 
 
 That afternoon, I visited Mr. Felix, and, laying before 
 him the whole matter, asked his advice. When P had 
 finished, he seemed lost in thought for a few moments, then 
 starting up suddenly, went to the door arid called to some 
 one outside to put the horse in the carriage. 
 
 "Come," said he, returning to me. "Get in my car- 
 riage and I will drive you over to Warkau. There is a 
 house there I think will meet your views." 
 " I hesitated at first about accepting his kindness. 
 
 ' ' Why, Mrs. Gilman, I am sure you will go. I merely 
 wish to put you on the right road in your business." 
 
 " Thank you, sir, I will go with you." 
 
 After a short ride, we turned down a lane, and, half 
 buried in the woods, found a collection of curiously contrived 
 glass covers merely, as they seemed at first ; very long, 
 quite narrow, and one house placed beside another ; the 
 whole together having the appearance of immense waves, as 
 if some great sea had its billows suddenly frozen stiff; lit- 
 erally a sea of glass. 
 
 "There," said Mr. Felix, "is the style of house that 
 will be of use to you. Cheap, — adapted to many pur- 
 poses, — and easily kept warm." 
 
OR, HOAV I BECAME A FLORIST. 69 
 
 " But I could not stand upright in such a low place. 
 The J are hardly three feet high in the centre." 
 
 "All that is provided for. Come and see." 
 
 So we got out, and walked through the garden to- 
 wards a long shed that extended across the ends of all 
 the houses. At the door I was introduced to the proprie- 
 tor, Mr. Clockwell, a quiet, gentlemanly young man, plain- 
 ly dressed as if about his work. Opening the door, he 
 bade us enter, saying : — 
 
 " I shall be glad to show you everything, and give you 
 whatever information you desire." 
 
 Inside the door, we passed down a few steps and found 
 ourselves nn a narrow, but very long shed, having windows 
 on one side and a number of small doors on the other. 
 Entering one of these, we were at once within a long and 
 narrow building, with a pointed-glass roof overhead. A 
 path extended through the centre, leaving just room to 
 walk and not strike the roof with your head. On either 
 side low tables, on which were placed growing plants in 
 pots, ran along from end to end. 
 
 In another house the tables had board edsing and were 
 filled with soil in which plants were growing. In a third, 
 instead of tables, a low bed of border of loam filled each 
 side of the path, and in this* taller plants were growing as 
 in a garden. Everything was in the most perfect order, 
 and all the plants looked bright and healthy. 
 
 " You see, Mrs. Gilman," said Mr. Felix, " the advantage 
 
70 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 of this pattern of house is that every plant is within easy 
 reach. No climbing of lofty stages here. The labor of 
 cultivation is greatly reduced. In fact it is quite fascinat- 
 ing to conduct, such a house, so easy is it." 
 
 " But it must be a great undertaking to carry water in a 
 watering-pot through these narrow walks, and for such great 
 distances." 
 
 Mr. Clockwell smiled at this, and said that, with him, 
 watering was no labor at all, rather amusing than other- 
 wise. He never used a watering-pot. If we would like to 
 see it done, we had only to come into another house. In 
 the next building, which was filled with an immense number 
 of small plants in pots, placed on tables, we found a long 
 rubber hose stretched out on the floor. This Mr. Clockwell 
 took up, and, calling to some one outside to let on the wa- 
 ter, held the brass nozzle at the end of the hose over the 
 plants. Immediately a fine spray of water rushed out, and 
 spread over several dozen plants at once. In an instant 
 they were well drenched, and, with a slight movement of 
 the hand, the stream was diverted to other plants. I fairly 
 laughed when I saw it. 
 
 " Could anything be more easy? Why, I could do that 
 myself] " 
 
 "Try it." 
 
 And I did. Really it was a charming way of watering. 
 Bidding Mr; Felix take out his watch and time my move- 
 ments, I held the hose over the plants just sixty seconds. 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 71 
 
 Then we counted the plants I had watered. Thcj amount- 
 ed to nearly five hundred. 
 
 " But where does the water come from ? " 
 
 " It is pumped up in a tank on the roof of the shed to 
 give it ' head ' or force. I have only to turn it on, and 
 away it goes, as you see. When I have finished one house, 1 
 drag the hose along to the next." 
 
 All these things and many more were shown to us, and, 
 after spending an hour very pleasantly, Mr. Felix drove me 
 home by another road. Just before we reached the gate, 
 he said : — « 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Gilman, if you really intend to build a 
 greenhouse, you should be about it at once. We may have 
 a frost any night." 
 
 " Yes, sir, I appreciate the necessity of haste, and must 
 consult my carpenter at once in regard to the cost, — that 
 point will decide the whole question." 
 
 " The cost of such houses as we have just seen is not 
 great. Can I help you in any other particular ? " 
 
 " Thank you, sir, you can indeed." 
 
 " Well, have your carpenter on hand to-morrow eveninfr^ 
 and I will drop in and show him how to draw his plans and 
 estimate the cost." 
 
 That very evening I went to Mr. Sawplane's shop, and 
 said to him' : — 
 
 "Mr. Sawplane, I propose to build a greenhouse. Will 
 you please call at my house to-morrow evening about it ? " 
 
72 , MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 He promised to do so. Bidding him good-night, I turned 
 to leave, when who should I see but Mrs. Jacques. Won- 
 der if she overheard what I said. It's just like her to 
 be near and yet give no intimation of her presence. 
 
 The following evening was quite cool, and as I had 
 some fears for my tuberoses, I took them up, washed the 
 pots, and placed eighteen of them in my windows. Two of 
 them had failed to throw up flower stems. These I put in 
 the shed, intending to ask Mr. Felix what I should do with 
 them. 
 
 About si# Mr. Felix arrived. 
 
 "I have come early, Mrs. Gilman, as I wish to talk 
 to you before you take further steps in the matter." 
 
 "I am all ears, — temporarily," said I, showing him to 
 our sitting-room. 
 
 " There is one point I am afraid you have not taken in- 
 to account in connection with your proposed greenhouse. 
 It is the stock. The plants in your garden are not of 
 the right sorts, nor is there enough of them." 
 
 " Yes, I have looked into that matter already. I turned 
 to the books for information, and think I know about what 
 I require and the probable cost." 
 
 " Yes, that is all very well, but the books tell too much. 
 You must discriminate ; you do not yet know the nature 
 and wants of the hundred or more plants they mention. 
 If you attempted them all you would fail. The most skil- 
 ful gardeners would not succeed with them all if they tried. 
 
 i 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 73 
 
 I, with all my experience, would not undertake to grow 
 more than a dozen sorts. It is better for you to confine 
 yourself to perhaps six varieties." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Felix. I understand you perfectly. 
 What six shall I take? "Would heliotrope do for one? " 
 
 " Admirably ; the culture is easy and the return in flow- 
 ers liberal." 
 
 Just then the bell rang and Mr. Sawplane entered. In- 
 troducing the two gentlemen to each other, they got out 
 drawing materials, and Mr. Felix began to unfold his plans 
 to the carpenter. I sat near by, an absorbed and inter- 
 ested listener. We had not been so engaged long, before 
 the bell rang again, and, opening the door, I found my 
 brother Joseph, his wife Charlotte, and Mr. Dooless, the 
 minister. There was no help for it, and I asked them into 
 the room where the two gentlemen were sitting. After 
 introducing them to my visitors, I offered seats, and we 
 all sat down. The usual remarks on the weather followed, 
 and then conversation suddenly ceased, and a dreadful 
 pause ensued. Anxious for a change, I turned to Mr. 
 Felix, and said : — 
 
 " How do you get on with your drawings? " 
 
 "Oh, — fairly, — thank you. I think Mr. Sawplane 
 grasps my idea of a house, though it is a new one to 
 him." 
 
 Here the minister coughed, and his companions looked 
 at each other with a peculiar smile. I paid no attention 
 7 
 
74 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 to them, but went on talking about the plans. Suddenly 
 my brother broke silence. 
 
 '' Sister, is it true then that you intend to build a 
 greenhouse?" 
 
 " Yes, I had thought of it." 
 
 "Thanks again, Mrs. Jacques. I'll remember this." — 
 This to myself. 
 
 " But do you think it a wise plan? Is it not likely to 
 prove a foolish waste of money ? " 
 
 " I think not. It is designed to bring money, not sink it." 
 
 " Perhaps it is not designed to sink money, but it will; 
 you, your money, house, and everything else." 
 
 "Remember your children," said Charlotte. 
 
 " I do, they are always in my thoughts. For them do 
 I labor with my hands." 
 
 Then Mr. Dooless spoke. " Does your conscience ap- 
 prove of this plan, Mrs. Gilman? " • 
 
 " I never do what it does not, sir." 
 
 "But, sister, how do you ever expect to get back the 
 money you embark in this scheme ? " 
 
 " By selling the flowers I produce." 
 
 At this the minister gave a pitying smile, and Charlotte 
 tossed up her pretty nose in scorn. 
 
 " Sell the flowers ! How horrid ! I'm ashamed of you, 
 Maria." 
 
 "Are you, madam?" said Mr. Felix. "Some people think 
 it an honorable employment." 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 75 
 
 " No gentleman would, I am sure, and no lady can stoop 
 SO low." 
 
 "Ah, thank you for your opinion. Our tastes differ, I 
 see." 
 
 " Come, Maria, say you will give up this wild scheme." 
 
 " No, Joseph, I had rather not. I have been so success- 
 ful thus far that I do not intend to stop now. Having put 
 my hand to the plough, I shall not turn back." 
 
 "Indeed! I should like to knoAv how much you have 
 made. Did it pay for your shoe leather ? " 
 
 " I shall not tell you, Joseph. I never asked to see your 
 ledger, and I'll not shoAv you mine." 
 
 " Nobody cares to see it, I am sure," said Charlotte. 
 
 "Christian friends," said the minister, rising, "let us 
 depart. ^ Ephraim is joined to his idols.' " 
 
 " Yes," said I, " and means to stay joined." 
 
 Then they rose as if to go. I was glad and relieved, for 
 the whole scene was annoying and painful. Just as they 
 started for the door, Mr. Felix spoke. 
 
 " Wait a moment, gentlemen. Let us hear more of this 
 matter. The other side has not been heard yet. Perhaps, 
 after all, Mrs. Gilman could be induced to give us some of 
 the fxcts in relation to her business. I, for one, could judge 
 of them correctly, as I am a practical florist." 
 
 At this my sister literally Avilted away, and endeavored 
 to beat a retreat, but Joseph detained her. They then sat 
 down again, but evidently in no pleasant mood. 
 
76 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 "Mrs. Gilman, will you be so kind as to give us the 
 amount of your sales the past month ? The facts may help 
 us in this difficulty." 
 
 "Fifty dollars," I replied. 
 
 • " And in July ? " 
 
 " Forty-five and a half. While, already this month I 
 have sold thirty-five dollars' worth, but this is owing to the 
 increased price for flowers. My garden produces, however, 
 no more this month than last." 
 
 "Fifty dollars a month," observed Joseph. "Why, 
 that's more than I pay my clerk." 
 
 " And your expenses were — " 
 
 " Nothing but my fare in the cars, and a dollar and 
 twenty cents I paid for bulbs and seeds." 
 
 "Nonsense, Maria, you must have had a man to take 
 care of your plants." 
 
 " I did not, Joseph. All the work was done by my own 
 hands." 
 
 " Maria ! how could you ? I wonder you are not 
 a perfect fright by this time." 
 
 "Do I look so, Charlotte?" 
 
 " Well, no, —not by lamplight." 
 
 "One more question, Mrs. Gilman, and I am done. 
 Can you tell us how much the plants in your garden 
 cost ? I think you said they were planted in the spring." 
 
 "Yes; I examined my husband's billf «nd found he 
 paid seventy-five dollars for the plants." 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 77 
 
 " Seventy-five dollars ? A great price. I would have 
 sold him the lot for sixty. Now, gentlemen, you have 
 heard the defendant in the case. What have you to 
 say ? " 
 
 They had nothing to say at all. A short pause ensued, 
 and then Charlotte remembered she must hurry home to the 
 baby, and the minister found he had another call to make 
 that evening. I cheerfully ushered them to the door, and 
 they departed into the night. 
 
 " Gentlemen, let us go on with our plans. 
 
 7* 
 
78 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 HOUSE-BtriLDING. 
 
 On returning a few mornings after this from the city I 
 found mj garden in possession of a large gang of laborers. 
 The fence in front had been removed, a pile of lumber lay 
 on the sidewalk, and some men were unloading a quantity 
 of posts from a wagon that stood in the street. Fearing for 
 my flowers I hastened to find the foreman, to warn him about 
 my plants. He knew all about it ; had taken them up and 
 placed them in the cellar, safely covered up with damp soil. 
 Changing my dress, I went out to watch the proceedings. 
 In this I was not alone. From the time the first man came 
 till they all drove away there was constantly a crowd of idlers, 
 men and boys mainly, standing on the sidewalk, watching 
 the operations. Them I at once and forever ignored. 
 
 The first thing done was to mark out a space on the ground 
 one hundred and ten feet long, and twenty-one feet wide. 
 This being done the whole gang of men began at once to dig 
 up the soil enclosed in this space, and to throw it out on either 
 side. There were so many of them the work progressed 
 rapidly, and at noon the whole space was dug out to the 
 depth of one foot. After dinner the men were divided into 
 two parties. One party busied themselves in making holes 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 79 
 
 along the edge of the pit thej had excavated. The others 
 set up in these short cedar posts. At evening the posts were 
 all set, about six feet apart, around the entire space. These 
 posts were sunk in the bottom of the pit and extended above 
 the level ground about one foot. The next day being fair, 
 the work went rapidly forward. At night the work presented 
 this appearance ; a portion of the pit, about ten feet wide by 
 twenty long, had been sunk quite deep in the ground. At 
 the west end nearest the house, in fact within ten feet of our 
 dining-room window, stood the frame of a small shed, run- 
 ning the whole width of the excavation, and about ten feet 
 wide. From end to end four feet from the posts the pit was 
 sunk one foot deeper than the rest. Directly through the 
 centre stood another row of posts similar to those on the 
 outside. This may seem a great amount of work for two 
 days, but I had instructed Mr. Sawplane to engage all the 
 men he could find, and to do everything thoroughly, but at 
 high pressure. 
 
 The next day I received a package and this letter by 
 mail : — 
 
 " Allegan, September 20, . 
 
 " Mrs. Gilman : — Accompanying this are several wholesale trade 
 catalogues of greenhouse stock. By examining them you can ascer- 
 tain the price of the plants you will require for your new house. 
 The following are the sorts I would recommend : — 
 
 Tea Roses. Heliotrope. 
 
 Carnations. Violets. 
 
80 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 Azaleas. Epacris and Bouvardia. 
 
 Ericas (Heaths). 
 "These are standard greenhouse flowers. The roses -will give 
 you a succession of flowers through the late winter and spring 
 months. The heliotrope, with care, can be made to bloom every day 
 in the year. The carnations and violets will last about four months. 
 The other kinds give but one crop in the year. As these do not all 
 flower at once, you can cut one sort after another has gone, and so 
 extend your income over a longer time. But to these I would add 
 still another list, in order to extend your cutting season still farther. 
 The plants I have mentioned will fill your houses, but that is not 
 enough. You must have a reserved supply to bring in after these 
 have gone out of flower. In order to do this all the plants on the 
 following list must be stored in your house-cellar until you require 
 them in January after the season turns. I will explain all this by 
 and by. Here is the list : — 
 
 Deutzia Gracelis. Fuchsias. 
 
 Astilbe Japonica. Lilium Candidum. 
 
 * ' To still further extend your sales, you can in the spring sow seeds 
 of various annuals, stocks, pansies, etc., trifles in themselves, yet 
 useful to piece out your income. * 
 
 " Enclosed are letters of introduction to the parties whose cata- 
 logues I have sent you. If you purchase of them it may be of ad- 
 vantage to you to have it known that you are in the trade. 
 
 " There are many more flowers it would be profitable for you to 
 grow, yet here is quite enough to begin with. 
 
 " All the plants you purchase must be short, not more than two 
 feet high. You must not attempt camellias at all, unless you can 
 find them very short, in which case they would bear so few flowers 
 it would not be worth while. 
 
 "Leave the violets till the last. When you have enough of the 
 others, fill up the remainder of the house with them. 
 
 "I do not think the cost will exceed flve hundred dollars in all. If 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 81 
 
 it were May instead of September, tliey would not cost one half of 
 this. As it is, you will have to pay the cost of the culture up to this 
 time. 
 
 "Please inform me when the plants arrive and I will call and 
 show you how to place them in your house. 
 
 " My object in sending you this letter is not to induce you to pur- 
 chase of my colaborers, but because I am glad to help one who is so 
 bravely carrying out what has long been a favorite idea of mine, — 
 that women have a right to any field of labor in which they are able 
 and willing to work. 
 
 " Respectfully yours, 
 
 "Edwin Felix." 
 
 Immediately on reading this I sat down and wrote a note 
 to Mr. Felix, expressing my hearty thanks for his kindness, 
 and promising to call at his place in a day or two and thank 
 him personally. 
 
 At the rate at which my house progressed, it would be 
 finished in ten days ; so I set about getting my stock at 
 once. On looking over the catalogues I found they all 
 made specialities of certain classes of plants. One man had 
 a great assortment of heaths, another had roses and carna- 
 tions. 
 
 Selecting the rose and carnation man, I went to him first. 
 His place was the other side of the city, on another railroad. 
 On reaching the place, I presented my letter of introduction 
 to the proprietor, and he conducted me to his counting-room 
 at once. Giving me a seat, he said he would bring me 
 some samples of his plants. 
 
 " My houses are not fit for a lady to enter. They are too 
 
82 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 low and narrow. I can show you our plants without the 
 trouble of going over the house." 
 
 Now this did not suit me. I was in search of information 
 as well as plants. I wanted to see how he grew them. 
 
 " Well, ma'am, if you are not afraid of a little dirt, you 
 can come through my rose-house." 
 
 Opening a side-door, we went out, crossed a small yard, 
 and entered a large span-roofed house. This building was 
 without stages, but had all the roses planted out in the 
 border or floor as in an out-door garden. 
 
 "That," said the man, pointing to a large and thrifty 
 bush filled with long, almond-shaped rosebuds of a delicate 
 straw or sulphur color, "is the sofrano. And that the bon 
 silene," pointing to a blood-red rose-bud, similar in shape 
 " These two roses are the best for your use. They are 
 adapted to all kinds of flower-work. The sofrano is used 
 both for funeral or wedding orders, and the bon silene is un- 
 rivalled for brilliancy of color. I can sell you plants of 
 these two kinds one foot high and one year old, in pots, for 
 thirty-five dollars a hundred. They are all in good order 
 an^ some are showing flower. " 
 
 "How many buds can I expect from each before next 
 July?" 
 
 "Well, I couldn't say exactly. If they are well grown, 
 you can cut from six to twenty buds in that time. If you 
 only cut six, you will more than pay for the plants. Good 
 sofrano buds are worth eio;ht cents each in the winter." 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 83 
 
 I said I would take one hundred of each, and then asked 
 to see the carnations. 
 
 "lam sorry, ma'am, I can't let you have many carna- 
 tions. I've sold about all I can spare. I require about 
 ten thousand for my own use, and what few over that I 
 have I must keep for my retail trade. Why do you not go to 
 Mr. Felix ? I heard him say he had fifteen thousand this 
 year. He would sell you some, without doubt." 
 
 After spending an hour in looking over the bewildering 
 multitude of plants on the place, I ordered the plants sent to 
 me in ten days with the bill, and went home. What struck 
 me as remarkable in this place was the immense number of 
 plants gathered together in one establishment. Ten thou- 
 sand carnations and none to spare ! I wonder if I shall ever 
 conduct business on such a scale ? 
 
 The next day I went up (Jur own railroad about twenty 
 miles to see the heath and epacris man. This place was 
 quite small. The man devoted his entire attention to this 
 class of plants, and had a great reputation as a heath man. 
 His houses were all like Mr. Clockwell's, —long and half 
 sunk in the ground. All the plants were in fine condition, 
 short, bushy, and of a rich green color. A portion were in 
 flower. I had never seen a more remarkable sight. There 
 were five thousand in bloom, he* informed me. I found the 
 pi:ice was much higher than for roses, but was told that 
 these plants were two years old and would last in good order 
 for five years to come. I bought one hundred heaths and 
 
84 MY TEN-ROD FARM ; 
 
 one hundred epacris, at fifty cents each. They were in 
 pots and would not require shifting for six months or a year. 
 
 The following day I walked over to Mr. Felix's. After 
 thanking him for his letter I asked to see his carnations. 
 Showing the way through his grounds, we at last came upon 
 an open field entirely filled with carnation plants growing 
 closely together in long rows. 
 
 "What an enormous collection of plants! Where did 
 you get so many? " 
 
 " Some I raised myself, and some I bought last spring." 
 
 " How many plants are there here, Mr. Felix ? " 
 
 " About twelve thousand." 
 
 " Twelve thousand ! How could you ever count them 
 all?" 
 
 " I never did. I only counted the plants in one row, and 
 then counted the number of rows. It would take too long 
 to count them all." 
 
 " They are coming into flower, — are they not? " 
 
 "Yes, they have about ten buds on each now. In the 
 winter they will have about five times as many." 
 
 "What do you get for the flowers in the winter ? if I 
 may ask." 
 
 "You may ask what you please. I have no secrets 
 about it. They are worth from two to four cents each." 
 
 " How much do you charge for the plants after they are 
 taken up and potted? ", 
 
 " They are not potted at all, — only taken up and planted 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLOEJST. 85 
 
 in the borders in the house. You must do the same. You 
 thereby save the expense of the pots and the labor of potting. 
 I must charge you forty cents each for them. You had 
 best not take a great many, but let it go till next year. In 
 the spring you can have all you want for six cents each." 
 
 ' ' I will take a hundred, at any rate. If the ten buds 
 that are on them now bring four cents each, I shall get my 
 money back." > 
 
 "You will do more than that, I am sure." But come 
 into the plant-house and see my heliotrope." 
 
 Going into the plant-house (which is the name of the style 
 of house we had seen at Mr. Clock well's, and also the style in 
 which I was building my own), he showed me a quantity of 
 young heliotrope plants in three-inch pots. 
 
 " These are quite small, in fact mere rooted cuttings; yet 
 I advise you to take them. They will not flower so soon as 
 larger ones, but you can have them very cheap, — not more 
 than ten dollars a hundred, if you take several hundred. 
 There are few flowers that will give you a better return. 
 There are some larger ones in six-inch pots. They are just 
 showing flower. They are worth sixteen dollars a hundred." 
 
 " Then I will compromise and take part of each, — one 
 hundred at sixteen and three hundred at ten dollars." 
 
 After aorain thanking: him for his kindness, I started 
 to walk to Mr. Clockwell's. I had brought some luncheon 
 in my pocket, and, taking it out, ate it on the road as I 
 walked along. A more delightful lunch I never had. The 
 
86 » MY TEN- ROD FARM; 
 
 sun was sliinirig brightly and the air was cool and crisp. 
 The walking was good, and all nature seemed in her most 
 (jharming autumnal mood. . 
 
 On reaching the place, I found Mr. Clockwell was not at 
 home. Taking out mj knife (I carried one always), I cut 
 a stout stick from a bush and set out on mj three-mile tramp 
 homewards. Just before I entered the village I threw mj 
 cane away. My pride was not quite dead yet. I reached home 
 just as the workmen were going away, tired and hungry 
 from my five-mile walk. But what of that ? A good sup- 
 per and a night's rest would correct everything. 
 
 The next day Avas devoted to housework. Perhaps you 
 wonder how I attended to this at all. In the first place, I 
 had all my evenings to myself; secondly, my children helped 
 me as far as they were able ; and, lastly, we are not any of us 
 "idlers in the land." 
 
 As I had some mending to do, I sat down by the window 
 to watch the men at work on my new plant-house. The 
 new shed was roofed over, doors and windows in, and all 
 finished outside. A low stone wall had been built up be- 
 tween the posts extending around the cellar or pit. On top 
 and firmly fastened to the posts was a narrow strip of two- 
 inch plank having the top bevelled off" at an angle of forty-five 
 degrees. On top of the row of posts placed through the 
 centre was a broad piece of plank having upright edges, so 
 that it had the appearance of a long, narrow trough. This 
 was also bevelled off like the top of the outside wall. Six 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 87 
 
 feet from the bottom of the pit, and fastened up in a temporary 
 manner, equidistant from the wall and the centre post, were 
 two pieces of timber of a very peculiar shape. A drawing 
 will best describe it. 
 
 These were all the parts of the house completed, making 
 a sort of skeleton. While I was studying all this out, two 
 large teams drove up piled high with hot-bed sash, — as the 
 farmers call them. They were plain sashes filled with glass 
 six feet long by three wide, looking like exaggerated sky- 
 lights. The workmen at once unloaded these and placed 
 them in heaps in our yard. This done, they took up one 
 sash, and, placing the bottom on the bevelled edge of the wall; 
 dropped the top into the slot or groove in the ridge-pole, as 
 you see in the drawing. Taking four screws they quickly 
 fastened it down top and bottom. Then they put another 
 on the opposite" side so that the two sashes made an arch. 
 Leaving a space the width of a sash, thoy put up two more, 
 and then more, till half of all the sashes were in place. 
 This done, the temporary supports were taken away and the 
 building at once supported itself. Other men in the mean 
 while had been fastening curious iron hooks to the wall 
 opposite the spaces. They then took a sash, dropped the 
 bottom in the iron hooks, and slid the whole thing neatly into 
 place alongside the sash already in. In thirty minutes 
 
88 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 every sash was in place, and my plant-house was complete, 
 except the inside. Delighted with the neat and compact 
 appearance of the house, I went out to inspect. At the 
 door I met Mr. Felix. 
 
 " Allow me to congratulate you, Mrs. Gilman, on the ap- 
 pearance of your new house." 
 
 " Thank you, sir. Will you come and look at it? " 
 
 We then went to examine. It presented somewhat this 
 appearance. First, a one-story shed with a door and two 
 windows are towards the yard, and one looking south 
 over the two glass roofs. These two roofs were placed side 
 by side and extended to the limits of my garden, just one 
 hundred feet. The street ran north and south, and the plant- 
 house was parallel to it and about twenty feet from the side- 
 walk. You see the building occupied almost all my garden, 
 but that was of no consequence, as I intended to farm under 
 glass after this, and would not need so large a garden. In 
 fact, my whole estate is very small. My whole place was 
 only one hundred and sixty feet long and seventy-five wide. 
 I called it my farm, and as the street front was just ten rods 
 I gave it the name that heads this story. 
 
 After examining the improvements, I asked Mr. Felix 
 into the house. On entering the sitting-room he went to the 
 window to look at my tuberoses. 
 
 "Hardly a success, Mrs. Gilman." 
 
 " How so ? I thought they were looking well and would 
 bear a full crop of tuberoses." 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 89 
 
 "They will produce some, but not half a crop. The 
 soil you used was too clayey. There was not enough sand 
 in it." 
 
 "Indeed. My ignorance is my only excuse." 
 
 " Never be ashamed of your ignorance. I have made 
 worse mistakes than that." 
 
 "Now, Mrs. Oilman, in this new undertaking you may 
 make more serious mistakes than this, and would it not be 
 a good idea to have some man like McTernan come here 
 once a week and tell you what attention your plants re- 
 quire from week to week, and how to give it ; in fact, give 
 you a lesson in gardening. I do not imagine he would 
 have to come a great many weeks. You are an apt scholar 
 in all that pertains to flowers." 
 
 " Yes, I think I am quick to learn. But it is from the 
 fact that by gardening I earn my livelihood." 
 
 " There is one other thing I wish to mention. I think 
 you ought to engage a lad to do the heavy work about your 
 business. Building fires, pumping water, etc. Your in- 
 come from the plant-house will fully warrant you in the ex- 
 pense. It is not important that he should know anything 
 of plants. You must be your own gardener and instruct 
 him, — not he you. It would be best to engage him before 
 your plants arrive, as there is a great deal to be done to 
 get the soil ready. If you will get a piece of paper I will 
 write down a list of the soils you will require, and you had 
 better order them at once. 
 
 8* 
 
90 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 " Three cords of rich compost. 
 One cord of meadow muck, one year old. 
 Twenty loads of good loam. 
 Four loads of fine sand. 
 Two loads of rubble or small stones. 
 
 " Have them thrown up in separate heaps in the yard, 
 and I will show you how to mix them when the time comes. 
 The cost will be about fifty dollars. ' It may seem a great 
 price to pay, but you can do nothing without it ; and to off- 
 set it you will not have the expense of pots, as almost all your 
 stock will be planted directly in the soil." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Felix. You help me out wonderfully. 
 But I do not like to be under so much obligation to you." 
 
 " Never mind that. I am glad to help you, as you are 
 so bravely trying to help yourself. Get your boy and the 
 soils, and I will call next week." Saying this he took his 
 hat as if to go. 
 
 "Wait a moment, Mr. Felix, I have one little favor to 
 ask. ■ Why could you not come o^ce a week and tell me 
 more? Why cannot you be my teacher yourself? " 
 
 " Oh, don't ask me. My time is so valuable in the 
 winter, I should have to charge five dollars an hour while 
 I was here." 
 
 ' ' I will pay it gladly if you will come whenever I wish. 
 It will not be oftener than once a week." 
 
 " I will consider it, Mrs. Gilman, and see you next week. 
 Good-night." 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A TLORIST. 91 
 
 / " Good-night, sir." 
 
 In a few days I found a boy, Richard Dermand, by 
 name, just out of school, knowing nothing of gardening, 
 but willing to learn and able to work. By Wednesday of the 
 following week, I had procured and paid for the various 
 soils mentioned on the list I received from Mr. Felix. 
 That evening Mr. Sawplane came and informed me that 
 my plant-house was finished according to contract, and that 
 nothing remained but to take the key and pay the bill. 
 
 - The next day was the first of October. Since my 
 building operations began, my income from the garden had 
 ceased. My sales up to that time amounted to forty-three 
 dollars. In all, I have received from my garden thus far, 
 one hundred and thirty-eight dollars and fifty cents. 
 
92 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 SUCCESS — FAILURE — SUCCESS AGAIN- 
 
 Let me take jou into my plant-house, now that it is 
 finished. On entering the door we find ourselves in a small 
 room, twenty feet long by ten wide. There are two win- 
 dows, one looking on the front yard and one out over the 
 two glass roofs. The floor extends over a portion of the 
 shed ; one end being sunk down into a cellar four feet 
 deep. A few steps lead down to the " Hitching' s Boiler " 
 that heats the building. A coal-bin, a small force-pump 
 with a coil of hose, and a spacious potting-bench, con- 
 stitute the furniture of the place. Two short flights of 
 steps lead down into the two plant-houses, for they are in 
 reality two separate buildings, though the eaves of each 
 come together on one side, forming a long valley. Enter- 
 ing the door of the right hand, — or west house, as I call 
 it for the sake of a name, — we find ourselves under a 
 glass roof in the form of an arch. The base of the arch 
 is level with the ground outside. The ridge rises three 
 feet higher than this, and the walk within is sunk three 
 feet lower. This gives six feet for head room. Two rows 
 of small posts, three feet high and two feet apart, extend 
 the whole length of the place. To these are nailed boards 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 93 
 
 planed on the inside, or towards the walk. Thus Ave have 
 left a narroAV path, two feet wide through the centre of the 
 house. On each side of this walk about a foot from the 
 floor runs a four-inch iron pipe, which, when filled with hot 
 water from the boiler, keeps the place warm in the winter. 
 Outside the path is a long trough four feet wide and two 
 feet deep. This is to be filled with soil, and in or on 
 this soil the plants are to grow or stand in pots. When it 
 is full this is called "the border." The second house is 
 precisely like this, except that it is divided in the middle 
 bj a partition, having a door in it. That portion I call 
 the east house ; beyond, the violet house. At the entrance 
 of each of these houses is a "cut-off" in the hot- water 
 pipe, to regulate the heat. The borders in these three 
 houses form my winter farm. Their united length is four 
 hundred feet. In this space, four hundred feet by four, 
 or sixteen hundred square feet, I expect to produce all the 
 flowers I require in my business. Beneath the shed is a 
 deep pit, having the sides plastered over with cement. 
 The rain falling on the glass roofs runs into this, and sup- 
 plies the water for my plants. Directly over the walks, 
 and within easy reach, iron rachets are fastened to every 
 other sash. These enabled me to tilt the sashes up for 
 ventilation, or remove them altogether if wished. I did 
 not adopt Mr. McTernan's method of opening the ventila- 
 tors, partly because I had no high stage to climb, and 
 partly because my plan was cheaper. 
 
94 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 Having thus described my plant-house, let me tell you 
 how I stocked it. First I had my boy wheel all the rub- 
 ble in his barrow up to the side of the house, and, taking 
 out one of the loose sashes dump it into the bottom of the 
 borders, spreading it out about six inches deep. Then I 
 engaged a laborer to help the boy, and had the various 
 heaps of sand, loam, etc., thrown up in one huge pile. This 
 being done they began at one end, and turned it all over, 
 breaking the lumps and mixing the whole well together. 
 When this was accomplished the entire heap was removed 
 in the wheelbarrow to the borders. When the work was 
 completed the interior presented this appearance, — the right 
 hand border in the west house filled up level with the 
 boarding of the path ; fifty feet on the other side filled in 
 the same way, and the remaining fifty feet filled within 
 twelve inches of the top. By so doing, I gained one foot 
 in height for the taller plants. The border in the violet 
 house was filled full. One half of the east house border 
 was full, and one half one foot lower. 
 
 By this time the plants began to arrive. First came 
 the roses. These, together with a few from my garden, I 
 had planted in the left-hand border in the west house, giving 
 them half the length of the house. The oj)posite border ' 
 was devoted to the four hundred heliotropes. All of these 
 were taken out of the pots, and planted in the soil of the 
 border, just as we Avould treat them in the open ground in 
 summer. Then Mr. Felix sent the carnations. They were 
 
OR, now I BECAME A FLORIST. 95 
 
 not in pots, but packed in large boxes. Thej were at once 
 set out as thickly as tliej could stand in the east house. 
 You now see why this border was not as deep as the other. 
 The plants were tall, and by keeping the surface down I 
 gained more room under the glass. Next came the heaths 
 and epacris. As these were to remain in their pots, they 
 were simply placed upon the border, just as they were. 
 
 A few day.^ after this I bought at auction sixteen hundred 
 violets, which I planted as closely as possible in their own 
 house, filling it completely. 
 
 I also bought of Mr. Clockwell two hundred bouvardias 
 in six-inch pots. As they would grow best in pots they 
 were merely placed in rows on the border of the west house. 
 All my borders were now stocked, except about thirty feet 
 of the east house. This space I filled with fifty fine plants 
 of azalea indica, which I purchased of Mr. McTernan. 
 
 My new plant-house is now finished, stocked, and ready 
 for business. I paid every bill promptly. Here is a list : — 
 
 Mrs. Maria Gilman 
 
 To Eeuben Sawplane, Dr. 
 
 To sashes $400 00 
 
 " shed 75 00 
 
 " labor 50 00 
 
 " stoue-work 50 00 
 
 " painting GO 00 
 
 " boiler and pipe . . . . ' 400 00 
 
 " posts, lumber, etc 75 00 
 
 ♦' force pump and hose 40 00 
 
 $1,150 00 
 
96 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 My plants cost as follows : — 
 
 200 roses $70 00 
 
 100 heliotrope 16 00 
 
 300 " 30 00 
 
 60 azalea indica 60 00 
 
 100 ericas (heaths) 50 00 
 
 100 epacris 50 00 
 
 200 bouvardia 40 00 
 
 200 deutzia gracelis 20 00 
 
 100 astilbe japonica 8 00 
 
 100 lilium candidum 8 00 
 
 1,600 violets 160 00 
 
 $502 00 
 
 Mr. Sawplane's bill 1,150 00 
 
 Sand, loam, etc 50 00 
 
 Incidentals 10 00 
 
 $1,712 00 
 
 This, then, was the entire cost the daj I set up as a regular 
 florist. My bills were all settled on the fifteenth of October, 
 and three days after I cut the first flowers from my new 
 plant-house. 
 
 The first week I passed in fear and trembling, not 
 knowing exactly how to manage the watering and venti- 
 lation. After a little practice, however, I learned my lesson 
 for once and all. This is the way in which I acquired the 
 requisite skill. I hung up in each house a small thermome- 
 ter ; Mr. Felix then made three cards to be fastened up near 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 97 
 
 each glass. For the west house, where the roses and 
 heliotrope were growing, the card read : — 
 
 " SnnsMne, 75° — cloudy, C5°— night, GOV 
 
 This was intended to indicate the proper temperature un- 
 der these three conditions. When the day was clear, with 
 abundant sunshine, the thermometer must not rise above 
 75°. If the heat of the sun sent it above that, enough 
 ventilators must be opened to allow the surplus heat to 
 escape, and so keep the inside temperature within one or two 
 degrees of 75°. If the day was cloudy, the ventilators must 
 be Kept shut to preserve the temperature at 65°. If this 
 was not enough, a fire must be started under the boiler, and 
 the temperature forced up to that point and held there. At 
 night suiEcient fire must be provided to secure a temperature 
 of at least 60° till morning. 
 
 In the east house the card ran : — 
 
 "Suushiue, 70° — cloudy, 60° — night, 55°." 
 
 The violet house required to be kept on still another 
 scale. This was its card : — 
 
 " Sunshine, G0° — cloudy, 50° — night, 45°." 
 
 By the aid of these cards the whole subject of ventilation 
 was reduced to a very simple afiair. You will observe that 
 in the night I was obliged to maintain three difierent tem- 
 peratures with one fire. This was easily accomplished by 
 means of the " cut-offs." I used the cards for about three 
 months, when I found I could tell by the feeling of the air 
 
 9 
 
98 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 on my face just what the temperature was, and govern myself 
 accordingly, without looking at the mercury any longer. 
 
 How to manage the watering, I learned with equal facility, 
 by observing the following rules : — 
 
 Never water a plant till it requires it. 
 
 Always water thoroughly. Fill the pots brimfull. 
 
 The borders need water whenever the surface becomes 
 dry. 
 
 The pot plants are to be watered whenever the surface 
 soil becomes dry or the pot becomes light-colored. The 
 water must be enriched with guano, or some other fertilizer, 
 twice a week, and applied with a watering-pot to the helio- 
 trope, roses, and bouvardia. Once a week all the plants 
 must be showered when the sun is shining brightly. 
 
 Time to water, — the morning. 
 
 Among other things, I took my tuberoses into the plant- 
 house. As they were quite tall, I was obliged to stand 
 them on the walk. They came into flower soon after com- 
 ing into the house, and, although they did not bear half a 
 crop, yet I cut an average of fifty cents' worth from each bulb. 
 
 The deutzia, astilbe, and liliums I bought in the city, 
 and, when they arrived, stored them in the house cellar. 
 
 The deutzia is a hardy shrub, and the astilbe is a her- 
 baceous plant. They came packed in damp moss, and I 
 placed them on the cellar floor and covered the roots with 
 soil to prevent their drying. The lilium candidum is a 
 hardy bulb, and came in a paper box, quite dry. I potted 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 99 
 
 them, together with those from my garden, putting two in a 
 seven-inch pot, and set them in the yard that they might be 
 slightly frozen. After staying out one frosty night, they 
 were removed to the cellar. The fuchsias were placed with 
 the deutzias and the remainder of the garden plants were 
 thrown away as valueless. 
 
 The month of October had slipped away by the time that 
 all this was accomplished, and November and cold weather 
 were upon us. Let me give you the business operations for 
 the month. As I have said already, my flowers began to 
 bloom almost as soon as I received them. The violets came 
 first, and ere long each carnation gave me a flower or two 
 each day. The statement below shows that I lost money 
 the first month ; but this I expected. I drew for the deficit 
 upon my capital, so that on the first of November my 
 stock had cost me eighteen hundred and ten dollars : — 
 
 Paid. 
 
 Boy $16 00 
 
 Boy's board 20 00 
 
 Mr. Felix 10 GO 
 
 Fares 2 00 
 
 My own support CO 00 
 
 $108 GO 
 lieceived. 
 
 For flowers 10 GO 
 
 Balance 98 GO 
 
 $108 GO 
 
100 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 I started the first fire in my boiler on the evening of 
 November second, and from this date kept it up every 
 night till the first of May. The month of November passed 
 away almost without incident. I gave up going to the city, 
 but sent Johnny instead. He carried the flowers in a small 
 wooden box covered with green paper, with a leather strap for a 
 handle. When it became very cold, I used to place a bottle 
 of hot water. in the box to prevent the flowers from freezing 
 on the road. As the greater part of my plants were planted 
 in the borders, they required but little attention. To show 
 how I passed my time, I will give you the routine of one 
 day's labor. The first thing to be done was to cut the flow- 
 ers before the sun was high. Then came breakfast. That 
 over, the bill of the flowers was made out, and Johnny 
 despatched. After clearing up afiairs in the hause, I went 
 out to the plant-house again, at about half-past nine. If 
 the day was cloudy, and the houses not up to the required 
 temperature, I freshened the fire. If the sun shone, this 
 would be unnecessary, as the heat of the sun alone was 
 sufficient to warm the buildings without artificial aid. Then 
 came the watering, if it was needed. That done, or found 
 superfluous, I spent my time in keeping things clean and 
 in order, for really this was all I had to do. At noon 
 Johnny returned from school, where he had been since his 
 flying visit to the city. Ho brought me the empty box, and 
 the flower bill duly endorsed by Thomas Dacy. Mary re- 
 turned at the same time, and at half-past twelve we had din- 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 101 
 
 ner. After dinner, I returned to my work. About tliree 
 o'clock I closed the ventilators, if they had been opened, and 
 at four had the fires built for the night. At sundown I 
 returned to my own house, the labor for the day being 
 nearly over. After supper, I sent the boy out to put on 
 more coal, and, at ten o'clock, I went out with him to be 
 sure that enough coal was on and everything made right for 
 the night. After that, — bed. Now, this was not a hard 
 day's work. In fact, I was surprised to find how easy it be- 
 came after a little while. It is true, I always had enough 
 both for the boy and myself to do ; but it was all very light 
 work, and not tiresome. I found the atmosphere of the 
 plant-house was beneficial to my health. Working all day 
 in a genial warmth and bathed in the full sunlight improved 
 my appetite, and I actually gained two pounds during the 
 first month. When my husband was alive, and, beyond my 
 house-work, I had little or nothing to do, I was not in the 
 best of health, and easily tired. Now, I felt strong, and 
 could work all day, without being half as much fatigued at 
 night. 
 
 My flowers continued to thrive, and yielded steadily in- 
 creasing returns. Here is the statement for November : — 
 
 Paid. 
 
 Boy and board $3G GO 
 
 Fuel 20 00 
 
 Mr. Felix (two visits) 10 00 
 
 Season ticket 4 00 
 
 Incidental 2 00 
 
 9* 
 
102 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 Family expenses GO 00 
 
 Balance . . . .- 18 00 
 
 $150 00 
 Received. 
 For flowers $150 00 
 
 To explain this great improvement in my income, I give 
 below one of the daily bills Johnny carried to the city. At 
 times the bill was larger than this. The amount varied 
 with the weather. On cloudy and stormy days the flowers 
 would not come out so freely as on pleasant days. In fact 
 I soon found the amount of sunshine was a matter of dollars 
 and cents to me. If I had less sunlight, I had less flowers, 
 and, consequently, less money. I assure you, I looked out 
 for the sun with all the eagerness of a photographer. 
 Here is a day's return : — 
 
 400 violets $4 00 
 
 4 doz. heliotrope 1 00 
 
 2 " bouvardia 50 
 
 $5 50 
 
 December passed without any mishap. The flowers 
 
 bloomed more and more freely day by day. The fall heaths 
 
 came into flower, and the tuberoses ceased and were thrown 
 
 away. The people in the village began to look upon my 
 
 operations with more favor, and even condescended to visit 
 
 my establishment. When they commenced calling I was 
 
 very attentive to them, but as this took so much time I left 
 
 them to inspect things under their own guidance. As the 
 
 days grew shorter I was obliged to light the fires much 
 
OR, now I BECAME A FLORIST. 103 
 
 earlier, and even keep them up during the day. This 
 added to the expense, but not materially. On Christmas 
 day some of my neighbors wished to purchase some of my 
 flowers ; but I declined to sell, as the city store had a prior 
 claim. That day I sent in twenty dollars' worth, — a 
 larger amount than I had ever expected to receive in 
 one day. This the December statement : — 
 
 Paid. 
 
 Boy 36 00 
 
 Fuel 25 00 
 
 Mr. Felix 5 00 
 
 Season ticket 4 00 
 
 Houseliold CO 00 
 
 Balance 45 00 
 
 $175 00 
 Received, 
 For flowers $175 00 
 
 The interest on the mortgage became due on the sixteenth 
 of this month, but I readily obtained credit till my money 
 came in, and then I paid it, together Avith the taxes, and had 
 just two dollars left to begin the new year. 
 
 Soon after the first of January we had a severe snow- 
 storm that covered the ground two feet deep. This proved 
 greatly to my advantage, for the snow acted as a blanket 
 and kept the ground warm. My plant-house being half 
 sunk in the soil received the full benefit of this, and my coal 
 bill was actually reduced. 
 
 On the last evening!; of the month we had a violent rain- 
 
104 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 Storm. After supper I sat down to add up the amounts 
 upon mj flower cards, and ascertained that my sales at the 
 store had reached one hundred and eighty dollars, while I 
 had sold to persons who came to the door ten dollars' worth ; 
 making in all one hundred and ninety dollars for tho 
 month. 
 
 The storm was so severe at ten o'clock that I called 
 Richard and gave him the key with directions to put more 
 coal on the fire, and see that the damper in the chimney 
 was nearly closed. Delegating to my servant such work, 
 instead of going out myself and seeing it done, was a fatal 
 mistake, that nearly caused my failure in business. When 
 the boy returned ''I asked him if everything Avas all right, 
 and he said it was. During the night it cleared ofi" and in 
 the morning a cold north-west wind was blowing. As soon 
 as I entered the plant-house it strack me as being very 
 cold. Going to the thermometer in the west house I found 
 the mercury down to 30°. I toucheu xhe leaves of a 
 heliotrope. It was stiff, — frozen. Going fes the east 
 house, I consulted the glass again, — 28°. Opening the 
 violet house I discovered every plant completely frost- 
 bitten — and the glass at 26°. Returning to the shed, I 
 opened the fire door in the boiler. The fire was quite out, 
 and the pipes cold. Looking at the chimney I found tne 
 damper wide open. The boy had not touched it, and, the 
 wmd rising, had started the full draft, and the fire had 
 burned out. Utterly mortified, discomfited, and heart- 
 
OR, now I BECAME A FLORIST. 105 
 
 broken, I returned to the house, threw myself on the sofa, 
 and burst into a flood of tears. And this is the end of all 
 my labor, and all my waiting and watching. In one night 
 my plants destroyed and my business prostrated. So much 
 for the carelessness of my servant, and my own folly in 
 trusting to another what I should have attended to my- 
 self. Surely, I have learned a lesson, — but at what a cost. 
 
 Suddenly the door-bell rang, and in a moment Mr. Felix 
 stood before me. 
 
 " Why, Mrs. Oilman, what is the matter ? Are you sick ? " 
 
 " No — yes — yes, I am sick, — It's enough to make 
 any one sick. I've failed, — I know I have." 
 
 " Failed! How so? Have you lost your pay through 
 the failure of the store?" 
 
 " No, no ; it is not that. The fire went out, and — and 
 • — oh, I'm sure I have failed in everything." 
 
 " The fire went out ! when ? " 
 
 " Last night, and every plant is frozen stifi"." 
 
 Then I buried my face in my hands, and sobbed as if my 
 heart would break. Presently I felt a light touch on my 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Mrs. Oilman, you must rouse yourself. You must 
 not give up in this way. There is no time to lose. Every- 
 thing depends upon prompt action." 
 
 " No, I cannot, Mr. Felix. I have worked too long and 
 too hard already, and I'll do no more. It is of no further 
 use." 
 
106 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 " You are not yourself, Mrs. Gilman. Come, make 
 one more effort. Perhaps we can save a portion of your 
 property." 
 
 " No, I cannot." 
 
 " But you must. What are the children to do if you 
 give up in despair? " 
 
 " The children ! What of them ? " 
 
 " I say you must come out with me and see if we can- 
 not repair damages." 
 
 "I am ready. I will be calm. What must I do 
 first?" 
 
 "In the first place send Johnny and Mary for every 
 blanket, sheet, cloth, or carpet they can find, and then let 
 them cover the glass with them to shut out the sun. Bid them 
 hasten as the sun will soon be high. Call your boy also, 
 and have him build a fire as quickly as possible, and, as for 
 yourself, come with me to the plant-house." 
 
 On reaching the building he went to the pump, and, un- 
 rolling the hose, placed the brass nozzle in my trembling 
 hands, saying : — 
 
 " Now let me pump, and do you go carefully over every 
 plant and drench it with water." 
 
 Dragging the hose after me, I entered the west house, 
 and at once the pump began to work. We worked in si- 
 lence. There was no sound save the steady clank of thi 
 pump, the rush of the water, and the loud beating of my 
 heart. 
 
OR, now I BECAME A FLORIST. 107 
 
 While we were tlius engaged the place was gradually 
 darkened by the cloths placed on the glass outside by the 
 children. By the time I had watered that house, every 
 ray of sunlight was shut out. Then, with Mr. Felix's help, 
 the hose was removed to the east house, and I began again. 
 
 Suddenly the door opened, and my brother Joseph en- 
 tered. 
 
 ' ' What's the matter, Maria ? " 
 
 " My fire went out, and the plants are frozen." 
 
 "Frozen, are they? Just what I expected. I told you, 
 you would fail up, some day." 
 
 ''Did you?" 
 
 " Yes, I did, and now I hope you will listen to your 
 friends and reason." 
 
 "Move, Joseph, please move; I must water my plants. 
 Come another time, please." 
 
 " No, I'll not move." 
 
 " But you must ! " 
 
 "No, I will not. You shall hear me now. I say you 
 must give up this — " 
 
 " Joseph, you must move on, or I shall wet you." 
 
 "I say you must sell out and give this thing up." 
 
 " Move on, please." 
 
 But he would not, and, calling to Mr. Felix to give more 
 force to the stream, I made a slight m.ovement of the now 
 powerful stream. My brother's coat-sleeve glistened with 
 the spray. 
 
108 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 " Now, Joseph, you must come another time. I am 
 busj now. I cannot talk with you, — move, please. You 
 will be drenched if you stand there." 
 
 Finding me resolute, and observing my now really for- 
 midable weapon, he beat a sullen retreat. As he passed 
 through the shed Mr. Felix said something to him. What 
 it was I never knew, but I soon saw Joseph slinking out 
 of our gate. 
 
 Finishing this house, I moved on to the violets. But 
 they looked so badly, that I called Mr. Felix from the 
 pump. 
 
 " What can we do with them ? " 
 
 "Do with them? — nothing, they are entirely spoiled. 
 You had best shut up the house for the next two months. 
 You can do nothing with it. It is a great pity ! There 
 must be upward of two thousand flowers on the plants." 
 
 Just then Johnny, who was standing on the snow out- 
 side, called through the glass : — 
 
 " See, mother, there aint any more sheets. We have 
 covered the heliotrope and the violets. But we can't cover 
 any more." 
 
 "Take them off the violets and shade this house," said 
 Mr. Felix. 
 
 Accordingly the children made the change. 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Gilman, let us see how great the damage 
 is, and what we can do to repair it. So we went over the 
 whole place and that night I had carried out his direction. 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 109 
 
 We worked hard all day, and at evening the place present- 
 ed this appearance : All the heliotrope had been pulled up 
 and thrown away. The roses had been cut down to bare 
 stems. The azaleas were not materially injured. All the 
 ericas, azaleas and epacris were brought in and placed upon 
 the borders in the west house. The flowers upon them were in- 
 jured, though the plants were not hurt much. They would do 
 for next winter's use. The bouvardia were in full bloom, 
 but the flowers were quite spoiled. The plants were cut 
 down, and the roots that remained in the pots were stored 
 in the cellar. By this change one house was cleared, and 
 the remaining plants gathered together in the other house. 
 The empty house was shut up and the heat cut ofi" to save 
 fuel. The violet house was also closed. As I went in to 
 cut off the heat, I noticed that all the plants were quite 
 black and dead. Then I understood why Mr. Felix 
 was so anxious to exclude the bright rays of the sun, and 
 why I was directed to water the plants we hoped to save. 
 The water took the frost out slowly, and the shade prevent- 
 ed a too sudden change from cold to heat. 
 
 The next day the news was all over the village, and the 
 whole place rang with one loud cry, " I told you so ! I told 
 you so ! " 
 
 As I had no flowers to send to the city by my son, 
 his absence was at once noted. In a day or two Mr. McTer- 
 nan called. 
 
 "It's froze, are ye? I'm sorry for ye. I declare it's 
 10 
 
110 MY TEN-ROD FARM ; 
 
 too bad. But, I tell ye "vvhat ye can do. Ye can fill up 
 your empty house with bedding-stuff, and in the spring ye' 11 
 be all right again." 
 
 " But what is bedding-stuff, Mr. McTernan? " 
 
 " Why, verbenas and such." 
 
 " But I know nothing; of their culture." 
 
 " Oh, they is easy enough. Ye rig up a sand bed, and 
 I'll send ye the cuttings this day." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. McTernan, but I cannot pay for 
 them. I have but little money left." 
 
 ' ' Never ye mind the pay. If ye make anything ye 
 may give me a cent for each. If ye don't it's all the 
 same," 
 
 Determined to do sometliing to help myself out of my 
 troubles, I had further conversation on the subject, and 
 agreed that he should send me a thousand cuttings the next 
 day. 
 
 Mr. Felix called in the afternoon, and to him I men- 
 tioned the bedding-plant idea. 
 
 "Just the thing," said he, "and tomatoes. You can 
 fill your east house with bedding-plants, and the violet 
 house with tomato plants. They will sell readily in May 
 and June. If you try it I am sure you can make up your 
 losses, and come out on the first of July right side up. 
 And there are your deutzias and other plants. Bring them 
 from your cellar and place them in the empty house, and 
 force them. Besides I have here some wonderful seeds, 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLOllIST. Ill 
 
 warranted to pull any- one out of any pickle, though they 
 sometimes get in themselves." And, laughing to himself, 
 he laid in my hand a package of seeds. 
 
 " What shall I do with them? " 
 
 "Get two hundred three-inch pots, and fill them with 
 fine soil from your violet house. Plant three of these 
 seeds in each pot. When the plants come up, remove all 
 but one from each pot. Keep them growing rapidly, 
 shifting them from pot to pot as they advance, and in about 
 sixty days you will see some flowers which I imagine will 
 be new to you." 
 
 " But what are they ? " 
 
 " Wait and you will see ; " and, with a pleasant smile, he 
 bade me good-night, and went his way. 
 
 Miss Sampson also called. She told me not to be dis- 
 couraged by my disaster. It was not such an uncommon 
 occurrence. The best of florists' houses sometimes freeze, 
 and yet the owners always manage to get out of it somehow, 
 and there was no doubt that I should likevfise. 
 
 Now I cannot give you all the details of my doings for 
 the next three months. It would take more time than I 
 can command. I can only say that I went to work brave- 
 ly, and by the first of May had raised five thousand bedding- 
 plants and five thousand tomato plants. To bring this 
 about and to make up my deficit for the months of Feb- 
 ruary and March, I used up all I had made and all my 
 capital besides. In April my plants had so far recovered 
 
112 ■ MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 that the sales of the flowers met the expense of their cul- 
 ture. In the middle of April I put this advertisement in 
 our weekly " Journal " : — 
 
 "BEDDING AND TOMATO PLANTS FOR SALE. 
 
 M. OILMAN, FLORIST, 
 
 MAIN STREET." 
 
 I also put up a sign on my gate : — 
 
 "bedding AND TOMATO PLANTS FOR SALE." 
 
 About the tenth of May, the neighbors, and others living 
 in the town, began to call for bedding-plants, and my time 
 was fully taken up in retailing them to the crowd of people 
 who thronged my place every pleasant day. 
 
 Among them came Mrs. Jacques. She bought a few 
 plants, and wanted credit for them. I gave it to her un- 
 willingly, as the plant and flower trade is strictly a cash 
 business. Its very nature makes it so. 
 
 A few days after she called, there was a red flag dis- 
 played at her husband's door, and I overheard this con- 
 versation between two men on our sidewalk. I was in the 
 plant-house at the time, but as the ventilators were open 
 I could hear every word. 
 
 " Old Jacques has gone up, they say." 
 
 " Yes, served him right. He was too lazy to work, and 
 so failed. By the way, Dick, if you do want to see a 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 113 
 
 worker, you just step into the greenhouse yonder and see 
 the woman-florist." 
 
 While this was going on, a wagon drove slowly past the 
 gate. In it sat a farmer with his little girl. Seeing my 
 sign, he pulled up his horse, got out, and came in. 
 
 " Is Mr. Oilman in ? " 
 
 " There is no Mr. Oilman." 
 
 " Who is M. Oilman ? I want some tomatoes any way." 
 
 "I am Mrs. Oilman, and if you will come this way I 
 will show you the plants." 
 
 On entering the violet house, he seemed greatly pleased 
 with the appearance of things. Walking up and down 
 the path, he looked at the plants, and ran his hand over 
 the tops as if to feel how stout and stocky they were. 
 
 "Wall now, them be purty plants. Did you raise them 
 yourself? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Wall, now, that beats all I ever heard. And you are a 
 woman-gardener, are you?" 
 
 "I am trying to be." 
 
 "Come now, they is good ones, aint they? Lordy ! 
 who'd a thought it ? I must tell my old woman. A wo- 
 man-gardener ! How much do you ask for them, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Fifty cents a dozen." 
 
 " Oh, don't mind the dozens. It's not by the dozen 
 or hundred I wants them. What do you charge for a 
 thousand? " 
 
 10* 
 
114 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 " Thirty dollars." 
 
 " Take twenty-eight." 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 "Wall, it's mor'n I'ni paying, but they is extra, they 
 is. I'll take three thousand. The boys will come over for 
 them in a day or so. You may give them five hundred at 
 a time. I can't come myself again, and, seeing you are a 
 woman, I'll pay you now while I have the money." Tak- 
 ing out an old leather purse, he placed in my hand ninety 
 dollars, and then drove away. 
 
 When he had gone, I unrolled the money and looked at 
 it. Suddenly the moisture gathered in my eyes. Lean- 
 ing my head upon the edge of the border, I gave way to a 
 flood of tears. Not tears of sorrow, this time, but tears of 
 joy and thankfulness. Surely God deserts not the widow 
 and the fatherless. 
 
 From that day the Lord prospered me. I sold all my 
 bedding-plants without any difficulty. The aggregate 
 amount I received for them was four hundred and twenty- 
 six dollars and fifty cents. The tomato plants yielded one 
 hundred and twenty dollars more. With this money I paid 
 Mr. McTernan, and, after settling every bill had enough 
 left to take up one half my mortgage. 
 
 On the evening of the Fourth of July, just a year from 
 the day I began, I invited Miss Sampson, Mr. McTernan, 
 Mr. Felix, his wife, wiiom I found to be a charming lady, 
 and their two little girls, to a grand strawberry supper. 
 
OR, HOW I BECAME A FLORIST. 115 
 
 While we were at tea, we heard a great pounding in the 
 yard, and, sallying forth, discovered a man nailing up a 
 new sign on top of the plant-house. 
 
 " I thought I would celebrate the day by sticking up 
 your new shingle." 
 
 Waving aloft his hammer, he exhibited the result of his 
 labor : — 
 
 "Makia Gilman, 
 Florist." 
 
 " Long may she wave ! " shouted the sign-painter. 
 
 Then the gentleme'n all cheered, while the ladies waved 
 their handkerchiefs, and we all had a merry time. 
 
 At ten o'clock my friends departed. I shook them each 
 by the hand, and, with tears in my eyes, thanked them for 
 all their kindness. 
 
 But stop, — let me tell you about the seeds Mr. Felix gave 
 me. I planted them as he directed. They soon came up, 
 and exhibited a tendency to run, proving they were vines. 
 I shifted them from pot to pot till they were a yard long, 
 and in a seven-inch pot. By this time they were covered 
 with small yellow flowers. I asked Mr. Felix what I 
 should do with the flowers. ' ' Let them alone and see what 
 becomes of them." After the bedding and tomato plants 
 were gone, and the other plants, except the roses, removed 
 out of doors, the vines were planted out three feet apart 
 in the borders, filling both houses. They soon took root in 
 
116 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 the rich soil and grew rapidly. In June they bore fruit, 
 and in immense quantities. We were obliged to spend an 
 hour every evening in gathering the fruit and packing it in 
 boxes. Every morning Sharpedge & Co. sent a light 
 wagon and took it away. I sent them the following bill in 
 August. If you read it you will see what it was : — 
 
 Messrs. Shakpedge & Co. 
 
 To Makia GilmaNjDr. 
 
 For 3,600 cucumbers at 3 cents, $108 00 
 
 Received payment, 
 
 Maria Oilman. 
 
 Let me now review my operations for the past six months. 
 Here are my monthly sales : — 
 
 January, flowers $190 00 
 
 February, 
 
 March, " 60 00 
 
 April, " deutzia, astilbe, etc. . . 140 00 
 
 May, " lilium, roses, etc. . . . 150 00 
 
 " bedding-plants 42G 50 
 
 June, flowers, roses, etc 100 00 
 
 ". tomato plants 120 00 
 
 July and August, cucumbers 108 00 
 
 $1,284 50 
 
 My expenses to July (including the support of my 
 family) amounted to eight hundred and fifteen dollars. 
 
 I 
 
OR, now I BECAME A FLORIST. 117 
 
 I was obliged to give up my flower garden after this, as 
 the buildings occupied nearly all mj land, and what 
 little remained was filled with my flowering stock for the 
 winter. However, this was a small affair. I could well 
 dispense with my garden flowers now. In addition to the 
 bedding-plants, I raised a quantity of violets and carna- 
 tions for my next winter's use, so that I was not obliged to 
 spend so much in the fall for new stock. In fact, I spent 
 but very little. My last winter's stock so far recovered as 
 to be used again the next season. 
 
 And now my story is told. I have led you step by step 
 through the first year of my business life. You have seen 
 my failures and my successes. As I said at the outset, I 
 am sole proprietor of "My Ten- Rod Farm," free from 
 debt, and in receipt of an income of tAvo thousand dollars a 
 year. I did not reach this point the first nor the second 
 year, but my income has gradually increased till it reached 
 that amount. 
 
 The village people speak of me with praise and respect. 
 My brother and sister say but little. They let me alone, 
 and treat me respectfully. To Mr. Felix and Mr. McTer- 
 nan I owe a debt of gratitude I can never repay. How- 
 ever, you must not imagine I met with equal kindness from 
 all the trade. I suppose I met the same amount of kind- 
 ness, and the same amount of opposition and hindrance, that 
 I should have met if I had started a cheese factory, or 
 
118 MY TEN-ROD FARM; 
 
 built a stocking mill. Yet in my profession I am respect- 
 ed and treated with consideration by all. As I said at the 
 outset, I have made a place for myself in the world. I 
 have told you this, my story, with a purpose. Many have 
 called upon me for the facts, that they might aid some 
 deserving person left as I was, just removed from want's 
 door. 
 
 The consumption of flowers is enormous. The number 
 of greenhouses has more than trebled since I built mine ; 
 yet to-day the price is higher. I cannot think that this 
 will continue. The price will eventually come down, which 
 will be an advantage, alike to the grower, seller, and con- 
 sumer. In such a business as this, it is not the high price, 
 but the great quantity demanded, that is advantageous to 
 the producer. 
 
 Flowers are the delight of every one. They are ap- 
 propriate and acceptable at all times, and in all places. No 
 place is too common or too sacred for them. They peer 
 over the tops of the banking-house desk, and their fra- 
 grance adds a new charm to the solemn roll of the church 
 organ. 
 
 Hundreds of women living near our larger cities are 
 eager and willing to do something to add to their slender 
 income. If this account of my experience aids them in 
 any way, my object is accomplished, — I am satisfied. 
 Mrs. Warren's charming "Home Manuals," for house 
 management, "Our Farm of Four Acres," " The Garden 
 
OR, nOAV I BECAME A FLORIST. 119 
 
 that paid the Rent," "Ten Acres Enough," " How to 
 Farm Profitably," are eagerly sought after. May I not 
 have the same good fortune awarded to 
 
 My Ten-Rod Farm; 
 
 OR, 
 
 How I became a Florist. 
 
STRAWBEREIES, GRAPES. 
 
 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 , HOW IT WAS PLANTED, 
 
 WHAT IT COST, 
 WHAT CAJklE OF IT, FINANCIALLY AND SENTIMENTALLY. 
 
 JOHN m KATE WELLSOFS SUCCESSFUL EXPERIMENT. 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN: 
 
 A VERY PRACTICiVL STORY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCES THE PEOPLE ANI> THEIR WOES. 
 
 Mr. John Wellson, wife, and three children, — Mary, 
 aged seventeen, Kate, fourteen, and John Junior, or 
 Johnny, twelve, or thereabouts. These for people. Nu- 
 mei'ous wants, and the lack of funds to supply them, for an 
 argument. Details directly. 
 
 Time, evening, June 19, 186 — . Scene, the Wellson 
 parlor. The whole family met in solemn council. Mr. 
 Wellson, head-master in a public school in the neighbor- 
 ing city, occupies the great arm-chair, and for the moment 
 is lost in gloomy meditations. 
 
 Mrs. Wellson, familiarly known as "mother," — a bright 
 
 and cheery body, with a kind word and ready smile for all, 
 
 — sits in her low rocking-chair quietly mending a stocking, 
 
 and thinking, thinking, — and thinking to no purpose. 
 
 It is a trying subject they have under consideration, and 
 
 even her sharp wits cannot penetrate it. 
 
 Mary, the eldest daughter, loveliness, common sense, and 
 
 123 
 
124 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 affection combined, is vainly trying to read a book upside 
 down, and with her thoughts decidedly elsewhere. The 
 family troubles are dull and hard, but they touch her upon 
 a tender spot. Prosaic as they are to the others, to her 
 they are keen enough, and in a far different way. Every 
 joy of her young life hangs upon the miserable question 
 before the household. Not in reality ; yet she thinks so, 
 and that to her is quite as bad. 
 
 Kate, her sister, a wholesome, luncheon-loving girl, with 
 abounding animal spirits, and possessed of ready wit, a 
 sharp appetite for fun, and good nature enough for two men 
 and a boy, is seated in boyish fashion upon the floor. 
 With earnest eyes she gazes at the carpet in silence. 
 
 Her brother, a boy of the hearty, wide-awake order, is 
 seated on a low stool beside her, and for a wonder is quiet. 
 He is very sober. Upon him the family sorrows weigh 
 heavily. The world is a dull place and life is very sad. 
 It is his ambition to wear ' ' a coat with tails, like the other 
 fellows," and the parental funds don't admit of it. 
 
 Attention! Kate speaks: "Well, I think the worst 
 thing that ever happened to this family was the unhi^py 
 circumstance connected with my birth.'" 
 
 " Hush, Kate ! " said her mother. 
 
 " No, mother, let me free my mind. I shall feel better. 
 I say it's a pity I wasn't a boy. Then " — and she 
 sighed fervently — ' ' then I could " go to work and earn 
 something, and help father out of this scrape." 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 125 
 
 "Fie! Kato," exclaimed Mary. "One would think 
 you were one now." 
 
 There would have been a sharp retort had not Mr. 
 Wellson interrupted them by dragging up once more their 
 little private skeleton and rattling its bones before their 
 sad eyes. Said he : — 
 
 " The case is just this : Here we are, living in this expen- 
 sive house and keeping up a certain position in society, and 
 our funds at such a comparatively low stage that disagree- 
 able rocks and shoals are visible at every tide." 
 
 "In other words," added John Junior, gravely, "the 
 stamps don't hold out." 
 
 " That's it, my boy. We are living beyond our means, 
 and something must be done about it very soon." 
 
 "Can't we sell this house, my dear? A smaller one 
 would be less trouble to keep in order." 
 
 At these words Mary's heart fell down two degrees and a 
 tenth, and her mental atmosphere was depressed. To move 
 away just now would be disastrous. 
 
 "We might sell," replied Mr. Wellson, "at a heavy 
 loss." 
 
 " Yes," said Kate, " and go into some box of a house, 
 and live like six mice in one hole, and lose our garden, and 
 the grapes, and all the nice things, and have those wretched 
 Scrabbins girls say things, and cut us all dead. Oh ! isn't 
 it dreadful? I declare it's awful; really and truly. I 
 hope wo shall move a hundred thousand miles from here, 
 
126 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 and where there isn't anybody who knows us, and where 
 we don't know anybody. Oh, if I were only a boy ! I'd 
 fix things." 
 
 "Would you though? Come, tell us, Kate, what'd 
 you do? " 
 
 " Work ! — work like a house a-fire." 
 
 A hearty laugh greeted this burst, and things actually 
 looked brighter. To such a stirring young body every- 
 thing seemed possible. 
 
 "Now, father, let's not beat about the bush. Tell us 
 just how things stand. Perhaps it isn't so awful bad, after 
 all." 
 
 " No, Kate, it is not such a terrible affair. Only a 
 little matter of one hundred dollars." 
 
 "Oh! is that all?" 
 
 ' ' Yes ; but every year we are that amount short. For 
 the past few years a small sum in the savings-bank has 
 served to eke out the deficiency. This belonged to your 
 mother, and she insisted upon its use that you children 
 might continue in this pleasant home a little longer. Now 
 it is all gone." 
 
 " you good, dear, dear mother ! " cried Kate, jumping 
 up suddenly and planting her liberal self in her mother's 
 lap, to the demoralizing of work-basket and mending ; 
 "you're better than cranberry jam, or frozen pudding, — 
 and that's heavenly, you know." 
 
 Mr. Wellsou went on : " We shall do well enousih till the 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 127 
 
 ■winter's coal is to be bought. Every other bill paid save 
 that, and no money on hand. Now the part of wisdom 
 is plain. Hedge our expenses, and live in a smaller house, 
 or in less style." 
 
 At this statement a dreadful silence fell upon the com- 
 pany, only to be broken by the entrance of Helen, their one 
 servant, to announce supper. Gathered round their simple 
 board they ate their tea and toast in silence and bitterness. 
 At the end of the meal a full dish of ripe strawberries was 
 brought on. At sight of this their spirits revived, and the 
 lively Kate began again with her perpetual talk. 
 
 "And the strawberries, too! To think that we shall 
 lose them all ! I shall eat a double share till we move 
 away. Don't know when we shall ever have any more. 
 We — are — so — dreadfully — poor." 
 
 Spoonfuls of berries and cream served to point this re- 
 mark. 
 
 " The berries are the very things that trouble us, 
 Kate," said her father. " The expense of keeping up our 
 garden is the one straw that breaks our particular camel's 
 back. The plants and the labor expended upon them cost 
 last year more than enough to make us whole. Another 
 place, having either more ground, so that we could sell a 
 part of the produce, or less ground, to save all expense, 
 would help us. As it is, the cost of our grounds is too 
 great for us to maintain our present position in society." 
 
 The meditative Johnny, coming out strong on the side 
 
128 TUE STRAWBERRy GARDEN. 
 
 of financial common sense: "Bother position in society! 
 Let's keep out of debt, anj way. Who cares if we don't 
 live in this house, or on this street? " 
 
 Both the girls held up their teaspoons in horror. 
 
 " Position is everything. Plow'd you like to give up 
 your playfellows and come down in the world ? " 
 
 "Hush,, children!" said their mother. "You are 
 getting very worldly. Society is not everything." 
 
 " Yes ; but it is so hard to come down." 
 
 Further discussion followed this, and after a while Helen 
 camo in to clear the table, and the subject was dropped. 
 Soon after Mr. Wellson took to his account-books, and with 
 his wife went over for the twentieth time the long columns 
 of figures that represented their dull sorrows. Such 
 petty and harassing work. The ins and the outs were 
 persistently at variance, and their eyes ached over the 
 wretched matter. What discouraging work, and how de- 
 structive to all that is best in life ! And yet it must be 
 done. Oh, debt ! what a horrid, horrid thing it was ! 
 How could a man be a saint, or a woman the angel she 
 ought to be, while in debt? / 
 
 As for the children, Mary tried to read, Kate was silent, 
 and much given to wishing she were rich ; and Johnny was 
 lost in a brown study. At nine the evening came to an 
 end, and they sought the best country for them, — the land 
 of sheets and dreams, Mary dull and dispirited, Kate very 
 sober, and her father and mother weary and harassed. As 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 129 
 
 for Johnny, a brave idea struggled in his mind, and he was 
 restless and wakeful. 
 
 Having safely tucked them in, let us briefly consider 
 their case. A very worldly set of people, the reader re- 
 marks. Not a doubt of it ; yet, in drawing this picture 
 the writer fancies that he has been true to nature. Th(^u- 
 sands of families keep in their best closet just such a miser- 
 able little skeleton as this, and gaze upon it in precisely 
 this very human way. Did the really best society depend 
 upon money alone, such views would be despicable. As, 
 happily, it depends, in this country at least, more upon 
 brains and education, the seeking for it is not so very 
 bad. 
 
 To aspire to a high position is wise and honorable. The 
 higher one goes, the less are life's temptations and the 
 easier it is to be virtuous. The lower we descend, the 
 greater they become, till actual poverty is reached, where 
 crime has become proverbial. The so-called "criminal 
 classes" are always the desperately poor and uneducated. 
 
 The society in which these people sought to maintain 
 tliemselves was that of the average American of common 
 and high school education, — society such as is found among 
 the doctors and lawyers in a New England village, or the 
 commercial classes in our large towns and cities. 
 
 In view of these things, let us look farther into the 
 doings and sayings, struggles and triumphs, of this family 
 in their endeavors to keep up in the world. 
 
130 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEJf. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 THE MIDNIGUT RAID. 
 
 That night, soon after the owl train had shrieked 
 through the village, and just as the rural chanticleer had 
 finished his last farinaceous dream and was sleepily tun- 
 ing his horn, two of the family awoke. Do what they 
 would they could not sleep again. 
 
 The restless Johnny, after piling Alps on Alps with the 
 bedclothes, and muttering- to himself that "he'd do it, sure 
 as sixty," sat up in bed and looked out of the window at 
 the waning moon. 
 
 Just beside him in the next room his lister Kate also sat 
 up, with wide-awake eyes, and wondering if " she heard 
 robbers or anything." 
 
 For a while all was silent. Then she heard a queer 
 sound just outside her window. In a little fright she hid 
 her head in the bedclothes. The noise went on. A sound 
 of footsteps on the roof of the piazza by her window. 
 
 Resolved to be very brave, she slipped out of bed. scram- 
 bled into a wrapper, and grasped her shoe to fling at the 
 burglar. Looking out, she beheld a young lad standing 
 before her window. She was upon the point of indulging 
 
THE STRAWBEllRY GARDEN. 131 
 
 in a scream, when she saw that it was her brother. Push-r 
 ing up the sash gently, she put out her head. 
 
 "Why! Joh— " 
 
 Johnny motioned her to be quiet. In a whisper : 
 "Don't speak loud, Kate; you'll wake 'em." 
 
 "No, I won't. What's up?" 
 
 "Nothing, nothing. Only do talk quiet. You'll wake 
 'em up, and spoil my fun." 
 
 At this word a bond of union was established between 
 them at once. 
 
 "Fun! Oh! what is it? Is it a serenade for Mary ? 
 Tell us. I'm dying to know." 
 
 "It's hooking, Kate." 
 
 " Johnny, you are not going to run away to sea to 
 get money to help father? " 
 
 "No; but I'm bound to help dad, and I'm going — to 
 — won't you tell ? " , ' 
 
 " No, truly and really." 
 
 " I'm going to steal some of our strawberries, and sell 
 'em. It"s awful bad, I know ; but it was dad made me 
 think of it. He said if we had more land we might farm 
 it, and sell the stuff, same as Farmer Gooding does. Didn't 
 I see the women a-picking berries there yesterday, and I 
 guess if those gals can, I can." 
 
 "So you can, and it isn't bad at all. You can take 
 your share, and go without at table. That'll be fair. You 
 c:.n have my share too, if you like." 
 
132 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 " You're a trump, Kate." 
 
 '' Now be quiet, and don't break your neck in climbing 
 down." 
 
 Johnny disappeared and Kate softly closed the sash. 
 
 " What a boy ! Who would have thought it of him? 
 Not a bad idea though, there's heaps and heaps of berries, 
 and they'd bring some money if we could sell 'em. What 
 time is it? Half-past three, if the moon says true. It will 
 be light soon. I know what I'll do. I'll help the boy, and 
 and let him in at the back door." 
 
 A few moments later a dark-robed figure might be seen 
 creeping from the back door of the house, and stealing along 
 the damp walk that extended down the centre of the dewy 
 moon-lighted garden. 
 
 An odd little spot, half-hid by tall trees and the neigh- 
 boring houses. On the north side a row of pear-trees 
 nearly shut off the view from the dwelling-house, and made 
 the garden a quiet and secluded spot. A board fence, 
 covered with grape-vines, extended for two hundred feet 
 along the west side, and on the south a low stone wall 
 divided the grounds from the open fields beyond. On the 
 east a large wooden house pushed its windowless back close 
 up to the boundary line. More board fence finished the 
 outline. 
 
 As for the general aspect of the place, and the things 
 growing in it, nothing could be said, as all was dark and 
 shadowy. It was only by knowing the locality well that 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 133 
 
 the muffled figure was able to find its way. Down by the 
 stone wall it encountered a black figure crouching among 
 the wet vines. As the Avalking figure approached, the 
 other started up and stood erect in the chilly moonlight. 
 
 " Why, Kate, is it you? How you frightened me ! " 
 
 " Yes, I've come to help you. Give me a box.'' 
 
 " Haven't got but one." 
 
 "That won't do. What could you do with one box of 
 berries? They would laugh at you at the market. I'll 
 get something." 
 
 Kate flitted silently away in the gloom, and soon re- 
 turned with an empty basket. 
 
 "You don't think we can fill that? " 
 
 "Why not? We have two good hours before anybody 
 will be up. We can do it in an hour, if we work like fun.". 
 
 And they did, — in silence and with speed. Busy with 
 their Avork they did not notice the coming dawn, and 
 almost before they knew it the tall chimneys of the next 
 house stood black against the gray sky. The light crept 
 upward and the moon hung low in the west. 
 
 When the basket was nearly full they paused to take 
 breath. 
 
 " They don't look very nice. Do they ? " 
 
 "No, Johnny. They are very wet, and — oh! we 
 haven't hulled them." 
 
 " Then we ouaiht to do it." 
 
134 TUB STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 "We can't. There's no time. The sun's most up and 
 we shall be found out." 
 
 " I don't think they will buy them in that state." 
 
 " Then you must oflfer them for less. Whatever you do, 
 sell them." 
 
 " That I will. I'll start now. The shops will be open 
 soon." 
 
 " All right. I'll sit up for you. I'm all dressed and 
 haven't anything more to do till breakfast-time. My ! how 
 hungry I am ! I wish breakfast was ready now." 
 
 "I don't. We'd be found out, sure. Good-by, I'm 
 going." 
 
 And, with the basket on his arm, he scrambled over the 
 stone wall and disappeared. 
 
 Never did maiden watch in lonely tower for her lover 
 from over the sea with more anxiety than did Kate, with 
 her pretty nose flattened against the cold window-pane, for 
 her runaway brother. At last, just as the sun appeared 
 over the trees, he came quickly up the walk under the pear 
 trees. Opening the window, she telegraphed to him by 
 signs that she would comedown and let him in. 
 
 A moment after she stood beside him in the yard. The 
 basket was gone. 
 
 " How splendid ! you sold 'em ? " 
 
 "I did that." 
 
 " Come in. Oh ! I'm so — " 
 
THE STRAA7BERRY GARDEN. 135 
 
 The back door opened, and, to their infinite astonishment, 
 their mother stood before them. 
 
 " Why, Kate ! Out so earlj ? " 
 
 "Here's mother," said Kate to her brother. "The 
 cat'll have to jump, surely." 
 
 " She will tell." 
 
 " We will ask her not to." 
 
 " You won't tell father, will you, mother ? " 
 
 " Tell him of tliis ? " 
 
 "No, but you see, I was out in the night," said 
 Johnny, honestly. 
 
 , " Out in the night ! That is a very serious thing. I 
 must acquaint your father of it at once." 
 
 "0 mother, mother!" exclaimed both. "Don't. We 
 did not mean to do wrong, and we are both to blame." 
 
 Mrs. Wellson looked from one to the other. Plainly 
 they had spoken the truth. After a pause, she said, 
 ' ' This is very serious. Go to the dining-room, Johnny, 
 and wait till I come. And you, Kate, how happens it 
 your dress is so wet round the bottom ?•" 
 
 " mother, perhaps we were dreadful wicked, but we 
 will tell you all." 
 
 Like good children they met their mother in the dining- 
 room, and told her all. When the story was finished Mrs. 
 Wellson sat down perplexed. 
 
 Such proceedings were certainly not right, and yet no 
 
136 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 serious Avrong-doing was intended. After some reflection 
 she made up her mind what to do. 
 
 " What jou have done, children, was neither proper nor 
 right. It must not happen again. If you are to sell the 
 berries it must be in broad daylight, and with your father's 
 consent." 
 
 " May we sell 'em? " said Johnny. " Hi ! won't it be 
 fun ? I sold 'em this morning easy as sixty. See, here's 
 the money." 
 
 So saying, he to'ok from his pocket some dirty bits of 
 scrip and spread them on the table. 
 
 Kate and her mother stooped to examine the four greasy 
 bits of paper, — twenty-five cents each. 
 
 " You don't say, Johnny," exclaimed Kate. " All that 
 for your berries ? You will get a heap of money if you go on 
 at that rate. It's pretty dirty money they gave you — " 
 
 "Never mind," broke in Johnny. "It's just as good 
 to pay your debts Avith." 
 
 " They certainly did pay you well," said Mrs. Wellson. 
 " You must be good at a trade." 
 
 " Oh ! I fixed 'em," said the proud Johnny. " It takes 
 me to sell things." 
 
 " Tell us about it," said Kate. 
 
 " Well, you see, the first store I came to was just being 
 opened, and in I marched. ' Want any strawberries ? ' says 
 I. 
 
 " ' Let's see 'em,' says the man. 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 137 
 
 "I showed him the basket, and then I remembered that 
 the hulls were on. They looked pretty bad, and I thought 
 they were not worth much. The man looked at 'em, and 
 says, ' They aren't hulled.' — ' No,' says I, ' they are not.' 
 'Don't want 'em,' says he. 'All right,' says I, and got 
 ready to go, when I saw a gentleman looking at 'cm pretty 
 hard. Says he, 'They are much better for having the hulls 
 on. They keep longer. The best way would be never to 
 sell strawberries with the hulls removed.' — ' It isn't the 
 fashion,' said the store-man, ' and they won't sell till they 
 are hulled.' — ' Perhaps not,' said the gentleman ; ' but they 
 are much better so. Besides, the boy has wisely put them 
 in a shallow basket instead of those tight wooden boxes 
 sometimes used. They are probably free from all woody 
 flavor.' — 'AYell,' said the store-fellow, getting angry, 'I 
 don't want 'em any way.' 
 
 ' ' I went out, and soon came to another store. ' No, they 
 did not want 'em. They never bought berries in bulk.' 
 Then I was mad to think that I did not know enough to hull 
 and pack them before I started. I thought I'd stop some- 
 where and hull them, but I could not find a good place. 
 Then I came to another store. ' No, they did not want 
 berries.' 
 
 " By this time the basket got pretty heavy, and I guessed 
 I'd throw it away and call it profit and loss, — mostly loss." 
 
 "Oh! you didn't didn't you, Johnny?'' exclaimed 
 Kate. 
 
lo8 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 " No, my dear, I didn't. I kept it and tried another 
 store. Plere I changed mj tune. You see I was provoked, 
 and didn't care what I said. 
 
 "Marching in very brave, I said, 'Want any fine fresh 
 strawberries ? Got the hulls on, to keep 'em fresh. Picked 
 this day. In prime order, 'cause the hulls are on. Makes 
 'em keep better. In bulk, to keep them sweet.' 
 
 " There were two men in the store, and they both came 
 to look at my berries. 
 
 " 'How much?' says one, poking his fingers into the 
 berries. 
 
 "'Twenty-five cents,' says I. 'Thirty cents, if you 
 spoil 'em by poking them over in that way.' 
 
 " The man stared, and the other fellow laughed. 
 
 " 'Do you want 'em? ' says I. 
 
 " ' No,' says he. 
 
 " ' Prime berries,' says I. 'Warranted to keep, 'cause 
 the hulls are on.' Then ,the other fellow looked into a 
 little book he held in his hand and said, ' Guess we'll have 
 to take 'em. It's a tremendous price ; but they are very 
 early. Here's your money ; ' and he took the basket and 
 gave me this. 
 
 " ' Yes,' says I, ' they are early. Half-past four in the 
 morning. Very early.' Tlicn I started for home, and 
 you know the rest." 
 
 "But, Johnny," cried Kate, lifting her hands, "where 
 is the basket ? You did not sell that too? " 
 
 "Oh!" exclaimed Johuny. " I never thought of it." 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 139 
 
 CHAPTER ni. 
 
 PRIDK VERSUS MONKY. 
 
 That afternoon, about four o'clock, Mary Wellson could 
 be seen dreamily walking up and down the gravelled walk 
 at the lower end of the garden. With downcast ejes she 
 paced back and forth, apparently lost in thought, yet really 
 with sharp eyes and ears, ready to catch the sight and sound 
 of any passers on the little path which wound over the grass 
 in the pasture just beyond the wall. Every few moments 
 a quick glance was cast towards the field, or to the house at 
 the upper end of the garden. From one direction she 
 hoped for some one's coming ; from the other she feared any- 
 body's approach. 
 
 " Why don't he come ? " 
 
 An old, old question asked once more by fresh lips, 
 " Why don't he come ? He knows I wait for him." 
 More steps alone, and further efforts to quell the rebellion 
 in her young heart. A rebellion and protest against the 
 family fates. Why did these wretched money matters come 
 in just now to ruin all her hopes ? 
 
 The pretty fingers twisted themselves together tightly 
 over her breast, and the bright eyes were sparkling with 
 unaccustomed tears. 
 
140 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 " Will he never come ? Onlj one paltry hundred dol- 
 lars, — and to lose all for so little. If he would only 
 come, that I might see him before Ave move away." 
 
 The sad eyes gazed far away towards the distant hills 
 and the declining sun. 
 "Will he never — " 
 
 A sudden arrival : Kate, the luncheon-loving, with a 
 piece of cake in one hand, and a tin pail in the other. 
 Mary turned away to hide her face. 
 " Hallo, Polly ! What you doing here ? " 
 " Nothing. How came you to be so rude, Kate? You 
 are as bad as any boy." 
 
 Kate's opinion of boys had gone up three degrees and a 
 tenth since morning, and she was proud of the race. 
 Between her bites at the cake, the conversation went on : — 
 " All right " — cake. — " Glad of it " — cake.—" Boys 
 are " — cake — "jolly. Like 'em " — cake. — " Say, sis- 
 ter, won't you lend " — cake — " us a hand" — cake — 
 "at picking strawberries? Johnny and I are going to 
 pick a lot, and " — cake — " won't you tell ? " — cake. — 
 '•' We are going to sell 'em" — much cake. 
 
 " Sell them, Kate ! What are you thinking of? " 
 
 " Of nothing, except the money they will bring." 
 
 " Sell them for money ! Are you crazy? " 
 
 " No, think not. Come, lend us a hand." 
 
 Much cake ■ and then she stooped down, and, tucking 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 141 
 
 away her skirts, gravely began tc eat cake and pick berries 
 at the same time. 
 
 Mary stood beside her irresolute, and with keen eyes 
 watching 'ftirtively the path over the green field beyond the 
 stone wall. 
 
 " If he should come now ! I almost hope he will not." 
 This to herself, 
 
 ' ' Kate, I must say, you are the strangest girl I ever met. 
 In sober earnest, tell me what you mean," 
 
 "Money." 
 
 " Money ! " 
 
 " Yes, scrip, — stamps, — cash. Here you find it for the 
 picking." 
 
 " I really don't understand." 
 
 " You are dull, my love. Come, be a dear, and help me 
 fill this pail." 
 
 Mary stood for a moment on the walk, undecided whether 
 to run away, or do something else. 
 
 What else could she do ? To run away, and refuse to 
 aid her good-natured sister, would be unkind, at least. To 
 set to work pidking berries would expose her to a disagree- 
 able degradation, in somebody's eyes, should they chance 
 to see. Would he, the aristocratic young man, ever forgive 
 her, if he found her at work in the garden? Would he 
 not be shocked, and beat a retreat with no returning? 
 Would he not despise her red fingers and old tin pail ? 
 
 Vanities of vanities ! The complaint of an anxious mind. 
 
142 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 Not altogether a weak one, for its owner did begin to pick 
 a few berries, in a listless manner. Her vanity was not 
 alone to blame. The desire to find favor in love's eyes 
 helped out this rather silly view of things. 
 
 A moment after, the reckless Johnny appeared, loaded 
 down with little strawberry baskets, and singing in a loud 
 voice that classical melody, " Captain Jinks." 
 
 "Goodness, Johnny! stop that noise," exclaimed Mary, 
 petulantly. 
 
 " Noise ! That's music. I'm rehearsing last night's 
 serenade." 
 
 Kate laughed immoderately. 
 
 " Hush, Kate ! " said Mary. " You will tell the whole 
 neighborhood. How can you be so boisterous ! " 
 
 "Now, fellows," said Johnny, "let's see what can be 
 done. Pick is the word. Ten quarts at least. Leave the 
 hulls on, and top off each basket in a precise and elegant 
 manner." 
 
 " Why not take the hulls off ? " said Mary. " It must 
 be done before they go to the table, and we may as well do 
 it now." 
 
 " No," said Johnny. " They sell better so." 
 
 " Sell ! What do you mean ? " 
 
 " I mean we are going to sell them." 
 
 " Does your father know it? " 
 
 "No; but mother does. We sold some this morning 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 343 
 
 and mother says we may try once more, and if we succeed 
 we are to ask father's permission to sell them all." 
 
 " Sell our strawberries ! Who ever heard of such a 
 thing ? I should be ashamed to be seen on the street, were 
 we to do so. It will be the town talk, and all our friends 
 would cut us forever." 
 
 "Let'em," said Johnny. "Who cares? I'm for sell- 
 ing the berries and giving the money to father to pay the 
 coal-man's bill." 
 
 " And stay where we are," said the practical Kate, 
 " and not be oblisied to move into some little house in some 
 back street. For my part I'd rather pick berries all day 
 than move away. Who is to know of our doings ? No 
 one can see us, and Johnny is to sell the berries before 
 anybody is up." 
 
 "I am afraid we shall have to pick a long time before 
 we get a hundred dollars," said the despondent Mary. 
 
 "I don't know about that. There are heaps of 'em; 
 and then there are the grapes, — we can sell them too. 
 Anyway, we will try." 
 
 And so they did. The shallow wicker baskets, opening 
 wide at the top, were soon filled, and Kate and Johnny, with 
 each two baskets, started to carry them to the house. Mary 
 offered to bring the rest, and lingered behind. Shortly 
 afterward, she could have been seen dreamily sauntering up 
 the path, with a far-away look in her eyes, as if she had 
 
144 THE STRAWBEllRY GARDEN. 
 
 caught a glimpse of delectable, but impossible mountains. 
 Empty-handed, but very happy. How absent-minded 
 young people become under certain circumstances ! 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 145 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THINGS GET EXPLAINED. 
 
 The Wellson breakfast-room the next morning. — 
 Johnny gazing aimlessly from the window, and wondering 
 how things were going to come out. All the plates' on the 
 table turned down, and under one something attractive, but 
 not edible. 
 
 Kate appeared upon the scene. 
 
 "0 Johnny, have you got back? What luck, my 
 boy ? " 
 
 " Not much this time. Bad fall in the market." 
 
 " What ! did you tumble down and spill the berries? " 
 
 Johnny laughed in spite of himself, and would have ex- 
 plained had not the rest of the fomily appeared just 
 then. 
 
 They all sat down apparently unconcerned, but with all, 
 save Mr. Wellson, in a flutter of excitement. The climax 
 came Avhen Mr. Wellson turned his plate over and dis- 
 covered a small pile of rather dirty scrip beneath it. 
 
 "What is this?" said he. "Did I leave it here last 
 night?" 
 
 " No," said his wife. " It was not yours till now." 
 
146 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 " How so? Has anybody been so honest as to make a 
 return on some over-paid bill? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 ' ' Then where did it come from ; and if it is for me, how 
 shall I enter it in my books ? " 
 
 " Call it new income," said Johnny. 
 
 " No," cried Kate. " Call it Johnny's present. He 
 earned it, and it is to help pay for coal and things." 
 
 ' ' Earned it ! Really, he is beginning young. Come, 
 let us have breakfast and talk this thing over. Have 
 we no fresh strawberries to-day ? ' ' 
 
 "Yes," said Mary, uncovering one small saucerful. 
 " These are for you. We do not care for any." 
 
 Mr. Wellson took the proffered fruit, saying, "Ripe 
 fruit is always best at breakfast." After adding sugar and 
 cream to the berries, he paused a moment to count the 
 money as it lay on the table. 
 
 "Three dollars and a half. You must have worked 
 long and hard to have earned so much. Tell us how you 
 did it." 
 
 Johnny was absorbed in bread and butter, and was " too 
 full for utterance." 
 
 "Have you lost your appetite for strawberries?" said 
 Mr. Wellson, turning to Kate. 
 
 " Oh, dear, no ; only I dou't care for any to-day." 
 
 "Neither do I," said Johnny. 
 
 "Really this is strange. Strawberries refused, and 
 
THE STRAWBEllRY GARDEN. 14T 
 
 Johnny gone into business about which he does not care 
 to talk." 
 
 "The fact is, father," said Mrs. Wellson, " the children 
 have agreed to go without what they call ' their share of 
 the strawberries,' and intend, with your permission, to sell 
 them, and so help pay our debts." 
 
 Mr. Wellson's appetite was gone. He did not care to 
 eat any more berries. He paused and gazed into his coffee- 
 cup. What he saw there was uncertain, for his eyes 
 seemed very misty just then. He pushed back his chair 
 as if to rise. The impetuous Kate slid from her seat, and 
 planting her liberal self upon his knee, twined her arms 
 about his neck. 
 
 "0 father, father! We did not mean to do wrong, 
 and — and it's all my fault." 
 
 Poor Johnny sank down in his chair nearly out of sight. 
 If he could have disappeared through the bottom of his 
 boots, he would have done so cheerfully. 
 
 "No, it isn't," said he, in a solemn voice. " I did it, 
 and I'll tell you about it, if you'll let a fellow." 
 
 Mary turned away and stared out of the window very 
 hard. Mrs. Wellson rattled the tea-things and tried to be 
 cheerful. 
 
 Taking Kate's face in his two hands, Mr. Wellson looked 
 as steadily as he could into her clear brown eyes. His 
 own were rather dim, and perhaps dewy. 
 
148 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 "Why don't we have a small earthquake?" moaned 
 Johnny. 
 
 Kate stirred not, and her father then and there deliber- 
 ately kissed her pretty lips. 
 
 "You are a darling, Kate. I believe what you say. 
 Any man ought to be happy in such children." 
 
 " Then you don't blame us at all ? " 
 
 " No, Kate. I am too much pleased to be anything but 
 thankful and happy." 
 
 " Hooray !" cried Johnny, brightening up. "Hooray, 
 dad ! We may sell the berries, — may we not ? And we 
 can pay the plaguy coal-man. and live in this house still." 
 
 "We can try," said his father. "I have no objection 
 to the sale of the berries." 
 
 Mrs. Wellson breathed more freely, and Mary actually 
 smiled upon her uproarious brother. 
 
 Her every hope was realized — if — if the berries 
 brought enough to supply the deficit. Would they ? It 
 was an open question, but one worth trying, provided some 
 one never found it out. 
 
 All this to herself; for the others, only smiles and a 
 rosy face. 
 
 " What pleases you, Mary ? " said her father. 
 
 "Nothing very special," she replied. "I was merely 
 thinking that if we could stay here how nice it would be." 
 
 "Come, Kate," cried Johnny, "let's go see about the 
 baskets for to-morrow." 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 149 
 
 " I'm with jou, my boj." 
 
 She was, evidently. With a jolly uproar the two dis- 
 appeared towards the kitchen. 
 
 " What do you think of this, mother? " said Mr. Well- 
 son. " Will they not tire of the experiment in a few 
 days?" 
 
 "I think well of it. It will give them something to 
 think about, and a sense of independence and helpfulness, 
 I approve of the whole thing. As for becoming tired, I fear 
 you do not know Kate. If she makes up her mind to do 
 anything it will be done, if possible. As for Johnny, — 
 wild boy that he appears, — he is persistency itself." 
 
 "lam sure I am very glad to hear it, and hope pride 
 will not lead them to hide their doings." 
 
 To Mary this seemed a dii'ect shot at he*'?<?^,f. but sbo 
 wisely said nothing. 
 
150 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CONCKKNING MRS. GRUNDY — WIDOW. 
 
 We must condense. The go-ahead Johnny and the 
 lively Kate took their new work in hand, and, in spite of 
 many troubles, vexations, and disappointments, pushed 
 things with vigor and success. 
 
 To be sure, they found it rather hard to be obliged to go 
 to work picking strawberries as soon as they returned from 
 school, and getting up so very early in the morning and 
 carrying the berries through the streets was not equal to 
 base-ball — as an amusement. 
 
 Still they toiled on, cheered by the slowly increasing 
 pile of scrip. About the fourth day of their experience a 
 fresh trouble appeared, — an unlooked-for embarrassment 
 of riches. There were more berries than they could pick 
 unless assistance was procured. 
 
 Their operations had fortunately begun at the very open- 
 ing of the season. The warm and sheltered situation of 
 their garden had favored them greatly. Their fruit was 
 ripe several days earlier than that on the neighboring farms. 
 This was the cause of the high price they obtained by their 
 first sales. As soon as the berries began to come in from 
 the surrounding country, down went the price. 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 151 
 
 When, on the fourth day, Johnny returned with lesa 
 money for his ten baskets than he had received before, 
 Kate was discouraged. 
 
 "It's too bad, Johnny. Only a shilling a quart, after 
 we took so much pains with them." 
 
 "Yes," said Johnny, hopefully j "but look at the 
 garden. Who is to pick 'em all ? We can't. They are 
 too thick for us. If the price has gone down we'll make it 
 up by selling a heap more." 
 
 " Let's go look at them." 
 
 " Let's — , but wait a bit. Hadn't we better call Mary? 
 She hasn't helped us much so far." 
 
 " She can't. She has to help at the mending, and you 
 know how hard you are on your stockings." 
 
 Reaching the strawberry-bed, both were surprised to see 
 how abundant the crop was. 
 
 "Can't help it, Kate. Mary'll have to help us. It 
 will take all my time to sell such a lot of them." 
 
 " So I will," said a voice near by. 
 
 " There's Mary, now," cried Kate. " What can she be 
 doing over in the field? " 
 
 Johnny didn'i know, but guessed she would have a hard 
 time climbing over the stone wall. On the contrary, she 
 found an easy place, and stepped from stone to stone aa 
 easily as if she had done it many times before. . Perhaps 
 she had. 
 
 "■ There arc a good many," said Mary, approaching the 
 
152 THE STRAWBEKRY GARDEN. 
 
 strawberry-plantation. "We must lose no time. Run, 
 both of you, and bring as many baskets as you can carry," 
 
 Little thinking how nicely they were sent away, Kate 
 and her brother disappeared towards the house. 
 
 "Now if he should come. No, he will not. It is too 
 early. The clock — " 
 
 She paused abruptly. The sound of voices from over 
 the high fence startled her. The air was still, and the 
 approaching twilight served to heighten the effect of sound, 
 and sharpened Mary's unwilling ears. Two shrill female 
 voices, talking in gossipy strain : — 
 
 "It's the town talk." 
 
 "Who'd a thought it of them? I would not, and yet 
 Miss Squoggins was a- telling me how her brother bought 
 'em of the boy. Says he, ' They were fine berries, — best 
 in the market.' 
 
 " Sho ! Well, I thought they'd have to come down. 
 They was alwers a stuck-up set, — specially that Mary. 
 She's a-setting her cap for the squire's son. Guess he 
 wouldn't go that way much, if he knowed it." 
 
 Here another and less harsh voice broke in : "I don't 
 believe a word of it. And what if they does? Don't the 
 squire's folks send a can of their extra milk over to the 
 doctor's every morning, and do you think the squire's the 
 man to give his Jersey cream away ? Not he. He has a 
 a price, and gets it, or my name isn't Polly Scrabbins. I 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 153 
 
 mean to call on Mrs. Wellson and, if I stay to tea, I can 
 tell whether they sell their berries or not." 
 
 " You're a sharp un, widder Scrabbins. You're think- 
 ing of your own darter, aint yer ? She's a-dying for the 
 squire's son, herself." 
 
 "La — oh! " — 
 
 Just here the noisy Johnny appeared with much clatter 
 of empty baskets. 
 
 "Say, Mary, have you been waiting • here all the 
 time?" 
 
 "Yes," said she, speaking very loud, " I have." 
 
 Voices : " Whist ! She was a-listening, the minx ! " 
 
 Mary's face was white, and her eyes fairly blazed. 
 " Give me a basket, Johnny ; we shall not get a full crop 
 unless we hurry." 
 
 Johnny stared. What a voice his sister displayed ! 
 
 The three children worked hard till dark, and then with 
 the piled-up baskets returned to the house. As quickly as 
 possible Mary prepared herself for supper, and went to the 
 parlor. As she entered the room she met a faded, thin- 
 faced woman, in dingy weeds, going out. 
 
 " The intolerable creature has eflfrontery enough for a 
 whole sewing circle." 
 
 This to herself ; for the visitor, only smiles, good-humor, 
 and overwhelming politeness and attention. 
 
 " Mrs. Scrabbins ! How do you do ? Not going, are 
 you ? Won't you stay to tea ? " 
 
154 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 " Oh, dear, no, thank you. I must hurry home." 
 
 " We can't think of it. You must stay to tea. Come, 
 let me help you take off your things. We shall be de- 
 lighted to see more of you. You can tell us all the news. 
 We are very quiet here, and seldom know what is going on 
 in the world." 
 
 In spite of her protestations the little widow found her- 
 self gently taken in hand, and treated to a most splendid 
 strawberry supper. She had never eaten so many nor 
 Buch luscious berries in her life. With most charming 
 persistence Mrs. Wellson and her daughters plied her with 
 good things, till she was forced to cry, " Enough ! " 
 
 When the family rose from the table, there was still a 
 heaped-up plate of berries remaining. 
 
 The surfeited widow departed, and the careful Kate 
 turned the surplus berries into a basket, saying gravely to 
 herself : — 
 
 " I suppose our looking at 'em on the table won't hurt 
 the sale." 
 
 The days flew by, and the strawberry speculation pros- 
 pered. Everybody in the house took hold with a will, and 
 not a berry was lost. 
 
 The season was drawing to a close, and the fruit grew 
 scarce. In a few days it would be gone. One morning, 
 as Johnny was trotting gayly home with his empty baskets 
 and singing his favorite melody, " Captain Jinks," he met 
 a young man walking leisurely along the village street. 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 155 
 
 The thoughtless boj rattled his baskets iii time with hi? 
 song, and behaved in a generally jolly and uproarious 
 manner. 
 
 The young man — a person evidently possessed of some 
 brains and a fair education — glanced keenly at the boy, and 
 then passed on. Turning a corner, he paused beneath a 
 tree, and involuntarily began to stir the gravel on the walk 
 with his heel. Lost in thought, he seemed to be undecided 
 as to what to do next. 
 
 "It is unworthy of her. I can hardly believe it. Yet 
 here is her brother, plainly exposing the matter to all the 
 village. Pshaw ! It is unworthy of me to think ill of 
 her, or to care if these things are partly true." 
 
 Grinding his heel into the gravel he turned and went the 
 other way. 
 
156 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 GOING INTO THE FRUIT TRADE. 
 
 Finally the last berry was picked. The trade came to a 
 stand-still, and the new income ceased. Unfortunately the 
 Wellson expenses were increased at the same time for 
 sundry causes : summer dresses, etc. 
 
 Mr. Wellson came home one evening, looking tired and 
 dispirited. Not even the helpful wife, nor cheerful chil- 
 dren, could drive away the cloud that settled upon their 
 bread-winner's face. 
 
 The supper-table, usually a scene of mirth, was sombre 
 enough. Even Mother Wellson' s tea, a luxury in itself, 
 was bitter, and the dip- toast unattractive. 
 
 " What is the trouble? " said Mrs. Wellson. 
 
 "The city thinks it must economize, and has taken 
 away my assistant, without adding to my pay. The times 
 are bad with me." ^ 
 
 " Perhaps they will mend soon. Things can't be dull 
 forever." 
 
 " I hope not, I'm sure." 
 
 Mary searched for something in her teacup, with heavy 
 eyes. 
 
 " Will troubles never end ? " 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 157 
 
 Kate ate her toast in silence and bitterness. 
 
 " One must eat, whatever happens." 
 
 As for Johnny, he finished his meal and then went to 
 his room. In a moment he returned, bringing an old 
 collar-box, which he gave to his father with a slip of 
 paper. 
 
 "There, dad, I hope that will help you. This paper 
 gives the list of the sales, and in the box is the money." 
 
 Everybody brightened up. Mr. Wellson took the paper, 
 glanced at it, and with a smile gave it to his wife. 
 
 " Really, Johnny, have you made no mistakes ? Can 
 it be possible our little strawberry garden yielded so 
 much?" 
 
 " Don't think I did, sir. Count the money and see." 
 
 The box was opened, and the contents turned out upon 
 the table. Such a heap of scrip and bills ! Positively, it 
 looked cheerful, in spite of its unattractive appearance. 
 
 " Lend us a hand, girls. Here's wealth for the counting." 
 
 Hastily clearing away the tea-things, Kate and Mary 
 busily turned the heap of money over, spreading each 
 denomination by itself, and then carefully adding them up. 
 Johnny stood by, an interested spectator, till the final grand 
 total was announced. 
 
 '' Two hundred and two quarts sold. Cash : Forty 
 dollars and forty cents. That's about twenty cents each," 
 said Mr. Wellson. 
 
 Mary turned away, sick at heart. *' Then we must move. 
 
158 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 Only forty dollars ! A long way from the necessary hun- 
 dred." This, meditatively, after her usual fashion. 
 
 "I really do not understand it," said Mrs. Wellson. 
 " There is Farmer Gooding, selling strawberries by the 
 hundred boxes a day, and yet he says he never gets more 
 than eio-hteen cents, on an average." 
 
 " I can understand that. Our fruit was more carefully 
 picked, was fresh, and not injured by having the hulls torn 
 off. It had not travelled all night in a wagon, nor lain in a 
 warm store half a day. Nor was it packed in tight wooden 
 boxes, to ruin the flavor." 
 
 " And Johnny got fancy prices at first, as there were 
 no native berries in the market," said Kate. 
 
 "Yes," added he,^ "the market men said they were 
 prime berries. So they were. We took pains with them, 
 I'm sure. Didn't we, Kate ? " 
 
 " Guess we did, my boy." 
 
 More discussion was had over the matter, and also con- 
 cerning the further troubles that had fallen upon the family. 
 A sorrowful, dull, prosy matter, that we will skip entirely. 
 
 The final result may be of interest. 
 
 " We may a's well put our pride in our pockets, and do 
 the best we can. Your mother and I have canvassed this 
 matter, and find that we cannot better ourselves by moving ; 
 therefore we will remain where we are — but we must 
 reduce our expenses." 
 
 " How? " said Mary, brightening up. 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 159 
 
 " Keep no servant, and live in a more simple — " 
 
 "And raise strawberries," exclaimed Johnny. "Hi! 
 won't it be fun ? We can plant the whole place to sraw- 
 berries." 
 
 At this startling announcement the company were com- 
 pletely demoralized. 
 
 The lively Kate thought it would be perfectly jolly, and 
 she and her brother at once began to lay plans for the 
 proposed strawberry garden. Even Mary thought that 
 would be better than moving away. So greatly excited did 
 the young people become over this project, that it was 
 nearly eleven o'clock before they sought their respective 
 " downies " for the night. 
 
 Mr. Wellson, far from discouraging this idea, gave it his 
 cordial support, and said to his wife, as they were shutting 
 up the house : — 
 
 "I shall be glad to have them try it, even if they make 
 nothing by it. It will take them out of doors, give them 
 a healthful employment, and teach them, not only to work, 
 but much useful and valuable knowledge." 
 
 The next morning the entire family went out to inspect 
 their garden, and to decide what should be dbne first. 
 
 To understand all their doings, we must take a slight 
 glance into the history of the place. 
 
 The estate had been in their hands about four years, and 
 represented the small legacy from the "Wellson family property. 
 As has already been described, the garden lay on the south 
 
160 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 side of the house, and was closed ui on the east and west 
 by high buildings. The south and only open side admitted 
 sunlight and warmth. A better aspect for a garden could 
 not be devised. In area, the space, free from trees, meas- 
 ured something more than thirty thousand feet. A row of 
 pear-trees extended across the northern end, and divided the 
 small grass-spot next the house from the garden proper. 
 The omission of two trees in the centre allowed a path to 
 extend straight down through the centre of the estate, and 
 gave a chance for a pretty view from the dining-room win- 
 dows. At the lower or southern end of the garden the 
 gravelled walk ended abruptly at the stone wall. 
 
 For the last four years the place had been used for a 
 kitchen-garden. During the first three years, a gardener, 
 who had planted and tended the crops each season 
 had been employed. The previous summer the entire 
 garden had been planted with strawberries. This season 
 the gardener had not been employed, and the place had 
 run wild with weeds, and presented a forlorn and neglected 
 appearance. 
 
 "A sorry-looking place." said Mr. Wellson, when they 
 had all assembled on the path. " The principal crop seems 
 to be weeds." 
 
 "Never mind," said his wife, cheerfully; "Johnny is 
 fjqual to them." 
 
 " Guess I am," said he, stooping down and grasping a 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 161 
 
 huge dandelion with both hands. " Come up out of this, 
 'Mr. Lion's tooth." 
 
 It was a double-fanged molar, and refused to stir 
 
 "Pull away, my boy, — he's coming!" cried Kate. 
 Johnny struggled bravely. Suddenly up came the weed, and 
 down went Jolinny with heels in air, accompanied by a tri- 
 umphal fountain of dust, to celebrate the hero's prowess. 
 
 " You troublesome boy ! " exclaimed Mary, brushing the 
 dust from her dress. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " cried Kate. '' What a pyrotechnical weed- 
 puller you are ! " 
 
 Johnny scrambled to his feet amid the laughter of the 
 company, and, having shaken himself, displayed the weed, 
 saying : — 
 
 " Well, it's up, any way." 
 
 "At that rate," said his father, "you will be a long 
 time clearing the place." 
 
 " Never mind, Johnny. You shall have proper tools, 
 and be saved any further ground and lofty tumblings." 
 
 The subject of tools opened considerable discussion, 
 which resulted in a resolve that a part of the forty dollars 
 should be used to purchase a digging-fork, to enable 
 Johnny to clear the place of weeds. While they confessed 
 that they knew little or nothing of strawberry culture, yet 
 this much they did know, — first, clear the land of weeds 
 and stones, of which latter there was a liberal supply. 
 
 Immediately after dinner, with a bran-new five-pronged 
 
162 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 digging-fork, light and easy to handle, Johnny began the 
 culture of strawberries. The admiring Kate sat in the 
 little wheelbarrow on the walk, and looked proudly on. 
 As soon as a small space was clear, she procured from the 
 wood-shed an iron rake, and began to gather the debris into 
 heaps. With many struggles, much sweat, and, as Johnny 
 said, "a, pretty large tired," the place was partially 
 cleared of weeds. It looked pretty rough and irregular, 
 but was clean. 
 
 By the time supper was ready they both found them- 
 selves ready to, as Kate said, " slay any amount of bread 
 and butter." The wheelbarrow, which they had not found 
 time to use, was returned to the shed, and the tools put 
 away for the night. Thus ended the first day. 
 
 As thoy entered the house the cheerful fragrance of 
 supper greeted their sharp young noses. 
 
 "I'm going down to see what Helen has nice for sup- 
 per," said Kate. 
 
 On entering the kitchen she was surprised to find Helen 
 — the one servant — gone. At the stove stood her sister, 
 looking ' ' good enough to eat, ' ' in her nice white apron and 
 simple dress. 
 
 "Hallo, Polly ! Playing cook ? " 
 
 "Yes, in dead earnest." 
 
 " Wherefore ? Where's Helen ? " 
 
 " Gone, — for good." 
 
 " Polly ! " cried Kate, flinging her liberal arms 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 163 
 
 round her pretty sister. " You are a darling — duck of — 
 a dear — There's a kiss for you." 
 
 " Goodness, child ! See what you have done." 
 
 " What, dearie ? " 
 
 " Upset the teapot — and made me burn the toast," 
 
164 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 CREEPING BEFORE WALKING. 
 
 The following day the weeds were all forked out, and 
 lay in heaps about the .place. 
 
 The next day it rained till quite late in the afternoon. 
 About five it cleared away, and the impatient Johnny 
 trundled his wheelbarrow down the walk, to remove the 
 heaps of weeds scattered round. As he took up the first 
 pile he made a discovery. 
 
 " That's queer ! Took root again and started to grow in 
 one night. Lucky I began to remove them. Another day 
 and the work would have to be done again. 
 
 So it was that our hero began to gather from nature facts 
 both useful and interesting. Of course he never forgot 
 them so long as he lived. 
 
 By sundown the Aveeds were carefully piled up in a 
 heap in an out-of-the-way corner, preparatory to turning 
 them into compost. This, his father had instructed 
 him to do. The latter had obtained the idea from an 
 agricultural paper, all of which goes to prove that he 
 was a sensible man. In the same dark corner, at the 
 end of the row of pear-trees, stood, partly out of sight, a 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 1G5 
 
 common chain pump ; beside it, along the fence, lay several 
 long wooden spouts. The use of these will be made plain 
 in due time. 
 
 The stones that lay scattered over the ground were also 
 taken up and deposited in a heap by the wall, where a cart 
 could at some future time call and take them away. 
 
 We may here state that the dwelling-house occupied the 
 northern half of the Wellson estate, and that they had no 
 other buildings of any kind, — simply a square two-story 
 house, with an L attached, such as can be seen by the score 
 in any modern New England village. 
 
 Before the house, and extending to the street, was a bit 
 of lawn with a few shrubs. The trees on the sidewalk 
 furnished a slight screen from the gaze of passers in 
 carriages, and a pretty wooden fence shut out pedestrians. 
 Altogether it was a simple yet comfortable home. Home, 
 — that's it. It was home ; a place endeared to them all, 
 and we cannot wonder at the Wellson aversion to leaving it. 
 
 As Johnny went in to supper that night, he found Kate 
 busily examining a pile of books. 
 
 " I'm digging into the books, my boy. Learned a heap 
 of things already. Father brought these two from Loring's, 
 and I got another from the Public Library." 
 
 " Good for you, Kate ! We'll attack 'em after supper." 
 
 So they did. Tea being over, the household assembled 
 round the evening lamp, and every one became interested in 
 
1G6 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 the new project. The three books each had a reader, and 
 the others discussed matters as best they might. 
 
 After a while they came to this conclusion : Whatever 
 was to be done must be done at once. The garden was 
 already planted ; that had been done the previous season. 
 But what was to be done now ? To let it alone they knew 
 was not the thing. Those queer, straggling runners the 
 strawberry will persist in sending out were starting, and 
 no doubt they needed attention. But how to give it? 
 
 ^'I hardly know. You must ask Farmer Gooding, or 
 go out_ to Mattapanset and see Mr. Harker," said Mr. 
 Wellson. 
 
 " That would be fun," said Johnny. " Would you like 
 to go too, Kate ? School does not keep to-morrow." 
 
 " Yes, I should. I was reading about Mr. Barker's 
 strawberries in the ' Transcript ' the other evening. He 
 sells hundreds of boxes a day to the rich folks who drive 
 past his place, and I'd like to see how it looks." 
 
 "And if you are bright," said Mary, " you will keep 
 your eyes open, and see how they carry things on there. 
 You may learn something useful. To tell the truth, we 
 none of us know much concerning this matter, and must 
 learn all we can by observation." 
 
 " You may trust Kate for that," said Mrs. Wellson. 
 " If there is anything to be seen she will both see and re- 
 member it." 
 
 Kate's eyes shone, and Johnny patted h(ir on the back, 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN, 1()7 
 
 saying, "You are a dreadful good girl, Kate, and you 
 shall go with me." 
 
 " It's quite proper I should," she replied, in a patroniz- 
 ing manner. " You need some one to matronize you." 
 
 Accordingly, to the city, and from thence by horse -cars 
 to Mattapanset, went, the next day, the lively Kate and her 
 wide-awake brother. 
 
 The horse-car passed within a few steps of the place. 
 They both got out and walked down a broad street, having 
 an old, dismantled hotel, with its great courts and broad 
 avenues, on one side, and a low stone wall, with market 
 gardens beyond, on the other. 
 
 A quiet, sleepy place, having an air of age and decay not 
 often seen in New England towns. There were no manu- 
 factories, or even new hous'^s about; nothing but the 
 dull and stately residences of retired merchants, gardens, 
 and peaceful farm-houses. 
 
 Our two young people walked in silence under the tall 
 trees that lined the way, till they came to a side street 
 turning to the right and leading towards a small, unpre- 
 tending house standing alone on a grassy hill-side 
 
 Not a person was in sight, and they began to be alarmed, 
 fearing the whole place had gone to sleep, or was away on 
 a visit. 
 
 " Dear me ! " exclaimed Kate. " I should not care to 
 live here. It's so lonely and dull. Every house in 
 
168 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 sight looks as if it were fast asleep. Mr. Harkor's is, at 
 any rate, for it has shut its eyes." 
 
 "Nonsense, Kate! There must be somebody about." 
 
 " Perhaps so ; but the house is asleep. Don't you see 
 all the blinds are shut? I'm almost afraid to ring the bell, 
 for fear it would gape and open its eyes suddenly." 
 
 Timidly walking up the broad, smooth drive, they ap- 
 proached the house and looked about them. Just beyond 
 the house stood a neat barn and shed. Everything was 
 clean, prim, and sober. The lawns on either side were 
 smooth, and even the wide-spreading strawberry beds that 
 crowned the hill, were as straight and regular as if prepared 
 for the most precise private grounds. No appearance of 
 business or farm life was to be seen. All was finished and 
 elegant. 
 
 " We ought to have wiped our feet on a mat before we 
 entered the drive-way," said Kate. " The road is as nice 
 as a kitchen floor, and the grass is like a parlor carpet. 
 But, dear me, how sleepy it is ! Now I suppose we must 
 ring, whatever happens.'? 
 
 Johnny was on the point of ringing the bell, when they 
 saw a man leisurely walking over the grass towards them. 
 
 "Mr. Harker," said Kate. "Don't ring, Johnny." 
 The man saw and advanced towards them : a stout, well- 
 built person, with a sun-bronzed face that at once indicated 
 strength and brains. — a gentleman and a farmer. Higher 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. IG'J 
 
 praise cannot be given. His ejes "were blue, and full of 
 good nature and kindness. 
 
 The usual greetings were exchanged, and Kate having 
 briefly stated their mission, the three crossed the smooth 
 grass towards the strawberry beds that spread out fair and 
 wide over the hill-side. They were several acres in extent, 
 and all in one continuous piece. One portion appeared to 
 be new, as if but recently planted, while the other part was 
 thickly matted with vines, having narrow paths at equal 
 distances cut through it. All around in a wide border 
 stretched the green and level grass. This gave to the 
 strawberry plantation an air of finish and elegance, while 
 it took away all appearance of business ; yet the whole 
 thing meant business, and nothing else. It was cul- 
 tivated for profit, and for that alone. The combination 
 of the sweeping lawns and regular strawberry beds was 
 artistic, and according to the best rules of landscape 
 gardening. It accorded with the surrounding estates, and 
 served to show that gardening need not of itself be alto- 
 gether unlovely and rude. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Harker, tell us all about it. We have come 
 to learn, and want to see everything that will be of use to 
 us." 
 
 " To see all, Miss Kate, would take a year. We can 
 only examine those operations now going on. The rest I 
 must tell you as best I can." 
 
 " That's very kind in you, I'm sure. To begin, why 
 
170 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN'. 
 
 are these planted so wide apart ? The space between the 
 rows in our garden is not half so great." 
 
 That part of the plantation thej had now reached was 
 set with young strawberry plants standing in long rows. 
 Each row was six feet apart, and the plants twelve inches 
 apart in the rows. The space between was bare, and had 
 apparently been recently cultivated. 
 
 " Here," said Mr. Ilarker, " you see the first step in 
 the business ; say, rather, the second step. The first con- 
 sisted in preparing the ground, by ploughing in a liberal 
 supply of decayed stable manure, and then reducing the 
 ground to a fine surface by repeated harrowings. Then in 
 the damp, cool weather of early May the plants were set 
 out as you see. Since then the horse-cultivator has 
 traversed the ground occasionally, to keep it mellow and 
 clean. Do you understand it all ? " 
 
 "Nearly, sir," said Kate. "I do not know how you 
 set out the plants. Our gardener did that for us last 
 August, and at that time I cared nothing about it, and did 
 not even take the trouble to see him do it." 
 
 " The mere setting of the plants is very simple. Hav- 
 ing procured the plants, and cut or torn away the old 
 runners or leaves that may cling to them, set them in the 
 ground in any Avay your ingenuity may suggest. The 
 whole affair is so simple any bright boy or girl could do 
 it at once, provided they understood this one principle, — to 
 have the roots placed in a hole sufficiently large to receive 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 171 
 
 them without crowding or bending them out of their 
 natural shape. The size and depth of the hole will be 
 decided bj the size and length of the roots. For tools use 
 your hands, or a trowel. The soil ought to be deep and 
 mellow, and if it is so, plunging the hand into it, and set- 
 ting the plant firm and upright, will bo ^either difficult 
 nor disagreeable." 
 
 "I should think it would be fun," said Johnny. 
 
 "It is certainly not hard. Boys, or women, do it quite 
 as well as the best of men. The German women I employ 
 do nearly all the work, except holding the plough or spread- 
 ing manure. That is beyond their strength. There are 
 several ways of making the hole into which the young 
 strawberry plant is set. One is to punch a hole with a 
 blunt-pointed instrument called a "dibble" or "dibber." 
 It is nothing more than the handle of an abandoned spade 
 cut off and sharpened to a point. With it, plants may be 
 set out at the rate of two a minute. I do not think it the 
 best way, though it is much used by foreign gardeners. It 
 crowds the roots into too small a space, and does not leave 
 the ground smooth. Another way is to scratch out with a 
 hoc a rude trench, into which the plants are dropped, and 
 then the hoc is used to cover them. This might be called 
 the lazy man's method, and, though often successful, I can- 
 not recommend it." 
 
 " Then our gardener must have used a hoe, for here and 
 there a plant is missing, and the rows are broken." 
 
172 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 " They were set in August, jou said? " 
 
 " Yes, sir. It was very warm weather, and I remember 
 he had to water them often, to keep them from dying." 
 
 " That was the cause of the failure. There is but one 
 time in the year to plant strawberries, and that is the spring. 
 Many people think differently, but my experience leads me 
 to plant only in May. So strongly am I impressed Avith 
 this, that I now refuse to sell plants in the fall, as I know 
 the result will only be a loss of both plants, labor, and tem- 
 per. Fall planting is possible, but spring planting so 
 superior, that I sometimes wonder any one ever attempts 
 any other. Then the fact that the plants are only saved, 
 when planted in the fall, by liberal waterings, is an objec- 
 tion. If a plant will not flourish of its own unaided 
 strength, it had better die. It is a poor thing, not worth 
 the keeping. In May, watering is not required." 
 
 "Now," said Kate, -'you have reached our case. Our 
 plants are set out, and they look precisely like these. Long 
 rows of plants just sending out runners." 
 
 " Except, Kate," said Johnny, "that our rows are twice 
 as thick." 
 
 " Then you had better pull up every alternate row, so 
 that there will be a space of six feet between them." 
 
 " Will they ever cover such a wide space, Mr. Harker ? " 
 
 " No ; you must leave a path in the middle, three feet wide 
 and quite bare. This may seem extravagant of space ; but, 
 in my experience, the plants become so large, and hang 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 173 
 
 over the path so much, that the pickers tread upon and 
 destroy more berries than the space is worth. I began 
 with narrow paths, only to extend them a little each year, 
 till now they are, as you see, three feet wide." 
 
 Just at th's point a man appeared, leading a horse har- 
 nessed to a narrow stone roller. Behind came a couple of 
 bronze-faced German women. 
 
 "Now," said Mr. Harker to the children, "you can see 
 the next operation. You will notice that the entire six feet 
 of space is bare, and that the runners are crowded up 
 against the plants. That was caused by the cultivator. 
 As it passed over the ground, it swept the runners one side, 
 and they clustered about the plants unharmed. The next 
 thing is to mark ojff a space three feet wide in the centre. 
 This is done by the roller. It is just three feet wide, and, 
 as it is dragged along, it rolls the ground down smooth for 
 the path, and marks the place where the new plants are to 
 be set. This having been done, the women come after, and, 
 selecting a strong runner, pin it down to the soil with a 
 small stone, so that the new plant, when it takes root, will 
 stand opposite, and just eighteen inches from the old plant." 
 
 The horse stepped into the ploughed land, and the roller 
 went trundling down the hill, leaving its smooth track 
 behind. Then the women placed quickly and accurately a 
 runner at the edge of the path, and opposite each old plant, 
 A little arithmetic will show that the edge of the walk 
 would be just eighteen inches from the rows of plants, so 
 
174 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 that it was an accurate and easily made guide to the 
 workers. 
 
 "What will you do with all the other runners?" said 
 Kate. 
 
 " Cut them off. As you see, each woman*has a pair of 
 small scissors, and snips off all the runners except the two 
 that are to be spread out on either side." 
 
 Johnny gazed earnestly at these things for some time, and 
 then said : — 
 
 "I see what it is. This is hill culture. One plant 
 standing alone and all the runners removed, — and — but — 
 no, — it is not quite that, after all, for you do take two run- 
 ners." 
 
 " I don't wonder you are perplexed," said Mr. Harker. 
 "This is a combination of the two plans, — hill and field 
 culture. Hill culture means, as you say, that each plant 
 stands alone, and is deprived of all its runners. The people 
 who practise it claim that the strength of the plant, instead 
 of being wasted in bearing young plants, is saved, greatly to 
 the advantage of the expected crops. In using this method, 
 they usually set each plant out by itself just where it is to 
 stand. 
 
 ' ' In theory they are right. Cut off the runners, and 
 the crop is larger and finer, I practise hill culture, with 
 this slight difference, — I do not set out all the plants at 
 once. I set but one in three, and take from the one the two 
 that are to follow. This is not enough to hurt the plant, 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 175 
 
 and the two new ones find a mellow, warm soil to root in. 
 The advantage of free horse culture more than offsets the 
 extra iabor of pinning down the new plants. As for 
 removing the other runners, that would have to be done in 
 any case." 
 
 Kate and Johnny felt sure that thej now understood the 
 matter, and were prepared to practise it on their own 
 account. They stood for a while watching the two women 
 deftly setting the expected plants, and then passed on over 
 the hill to where further operations were being carried on. 
 Coming to a place Avhere a man was at work, they were sur- 
 prised to find him planting turnips, right in the middle of 
 the paths cut through the strawberry beds. The plants in 
 these beds had just produced their second crop, and were 
 thickly matted together ; the great broad leaves covering 
 all the space between the plants, and even encroaching on 
 the wide path. 
 
 "There," said Mr. Harker, " is a number of beds that 
 have produced fruit twice, and are too much exhausted to be 
 worth further culture. I now have the centre of each path 
 planted with turnips, or some other crop, and when the time 
 comes to cultivate it, I put in a light plough, and turn the 
 strawberry plants and all right under. The plants decay, 
 and by fall the ground is ploughed over, and all is smooth 
 and clear, and ready for next spring's crop, whatever it may 
 be. I can again plant strawberries, sow it down to grass, or 
 plant root crops. To set it again with strawberries would be 
 
176 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 the least profitable way, as a change in the crop is best for 
 the land." 
 
 " Were you to use strawberries the next year, you would 
 get no return for your land? " 
 
 " No. It produces nothing, while the plants are grow- 
 ing. To offset that, I get three crops the two next sea- 
 sons, — two of berries, and one of turnips, or something 
 else." 
 
 These, and many other matters, the children examined 
 with interest. To tell of all they saw and heard would 
 involve more time than we have at command. Their after 
 experience in the care of their own strawberry garden must 
 explain so much as concerns us. They spent several hours 
 with Mr. Harker, visiting his splendid great barn, on 
 another part of the estate, the pear orchard, and vegetable 
 gardens. Everywhere they went, neatness, order, and thrift 
 greeted them. The plants and trees were models of their 
 kind, and, as for weeds, they were not sure that they saw 
 even one. Like good children they went home early, and 
 reported to the assembled supper-table all of their doings 
 and hearings at Mr. Harker's, in the sleepy old town of 
 Mattapanset. [See Appendix A.] 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 177 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HELP FROM A NEW QUARTER. 
 
 The next day, 11 a.m. Kate and Johnny in earnest 
 consultation in the strawberry garden. Every alternate 
 row of strawberry plants had been pulled out, and there 
 now remained thirty-six rows, each about two hundred feet 
 long ; the space occupied by the garden being about thirty 
 thousand feet. The removal of the extra rows was a trifling 
 matter, and quickly accomplished. The remaining ones 
 were more or less damaged, — a plant here and there miss- 
 ing. To extend the runners, now quite long, on either side 
 was easy enough, but to repair the breaks puzzled them. 
 
 ''I'm sure I can't fix 'em," said Johnny. " There are 
 six plants gone in one row." 
 
 Kate replied that it was beyond her. 
 
 " We might pull a runner round sideways ateacli end of 
 the gap ; even then there would be four plants still want- 
 ing." 
 
 Just at this point who should appear but Farmer Good- 
 ing, a "truck farmer" living about a mile up the road. 
 He was dressed in his common blue frock, and came strid- 
 ing down the walk, whip in hand, in his usual energetic 
 manner. 
 
178 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 " Good-mornin', children. What ye 'bout ? " 
 
 "Good-morning, Mr. Gooding," said Kate. "What 
 can we do for you ? " 
 
 "Oh, nuthing, nuthing, thank ye. I was at the house 
 and saw ye at work and came to see ye. What ye 
 doing? " 
 
 " Setting the runners on the strawberry plants.'"' 
 
 "Law! bless ye! Do ye take all that trouble ? Mine 
 have to set themselves. 'T would take more than a month 
 to set mine. They are too thick. I let 'em run where 
 they will." 
 
 " Do you think it is the best way? " said Johnny. 
 
 "Well, yes — ginerally. I s'pect they do bear more 
 by cutting the runners ; but I never could come down to 
 such fine knitting- work. It don't pay." 
 
 " Mr. Harker thinks it does," ventured Kate. 
 
 " Mebbe so. Folks is different." 
 
 With many comments on what the children were doing, 
 the stout, burly man strode about the ground, examining 
 closely all that was going on. 
 
 Seeing one of the sad gaps in the rows, he said : — 
 
 " You can mend that in the fall. Let a few plants run, 
 and then pick 'em up and set 'em in these spaces some 
 rainy day in September. Fall planting is ginerally no 
 use, 'cept ye take all the pains in the world. Hallo ! 
 Grapes need pinching, bad." 
 
 By this time he had reached the fence where the grape- 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 17 d 
 
 vines were hanging luxuriously from the trellises. The 
 young fruit was just forming and the green and vigorous 
 - shoots hung thick and tangled, or waved freely in the wind. 
 At the top of the trellis the vines were boldly climbing the 
 fence, and threatened to invade the neighboring gardens. 
 " This won't do." said the farmer. 
 "What?" said Kate. 
 
 " Ye must pinch 'em. Ought to have been done before. 
 See — " 
 
 So saying, he with his fingprs broke off a green shoot 
 about a foot long. 
 
 " There. Ye must break, not cut, away the ends of the 
 shoots that have fruit on 'em, at the second leaf beyond 
 the last bunch. It keeps the vine from wasting its 
 strength on the wood instead of the fruit." 
 
 The children did not quite understand it all, and their 
 instructor pointed out to them that the fruit was hanging 
 on green shoots that had grown out of the old stalk, or 
 cane. The two or three bunches hung close to the main 
 cane, and beyond them the shoot extended for a foot or 
 more. Were it suffered to grow as it pleased, the shoot 
 would extend to an inordinate length at the expense of the 
 crop. To prevent this waste of strength it was "pinched 
 off" at the second leaf beyond the last or outermost 
 bunch, and all further extension prevented. Growth would 
 not cease, and, instead of a long, thin, valueless shoot, they 
 
180 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 would liave larger and better fruit growing upon a stouter 
 cane. Every way a better arrangement. 
 
 Kate and Johnny were at first surprised at the audacity' 
 of this proceeding, and positively alarmed when Farmer 
 Gooding advised them to go over the whole trellis and serve 
 every bearing shoot and all the top or end shoots in the 
 same way. 
 
 " It's the only way. Ought to been done a month back. 
 There'll be a decent crop there, if ye 'tend to 'em." 
 
 Kate and Johnny declared they certainly would do so, 
 and soon after, their new instructor went away, careless 
 that he had sown good seed in ready ground. 
 
 "So queer!" said Kate. "He does not like knitting- 
 work, and yet he pinches his grapes." 
 
 To give the details of all the horticultural doings and 
 sayings of the Wellsons' would involve more time than we 
 have at command. In brief, they went over their little 
 plantation, and with infinite pains did all they could to 
 carry out the directions they had received. Johnny plied 
 his hoe vigorously, while Kate and Mary assisted, with an 
 old pair of scissors, in cutting away the extra runners, and 
 blunted their pretty fingers in " pinching " the grapes. 
 
 Did they not find it hard work ? Oh ! of course. That 
 was the very thing best for them and what they wanted. 
 Good, healthy out-of-door work, if not in excess, is the 
 best thing ever given to three such sensible young folks aa 
 these same Wellsons. 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 181 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 HYDRAULICS. 
 
 It was a cool, bright day, with flying clouds and a fresh 
 breeze. Nothing had been done that day in the Wellson 
 strawberry plantation and all was quiet. 
 
 The young plants stood fresh and stiff in their thin rows, 
 and the horticultural prospect was smiling. 
 
 About four o'clock John, Jr., appeared upon the scene. 
 Gravely walking up and down the gravelled path he studied 
 the plants, the sky, and the white masses of clouds piled up 
 in the west and north-west. After a while he said : — 
 
 "Going to rain 'fore night. Sliouldn't wonder if we 
 had a thunder-storm. Wind's north. Couldn't find a 
 better time if I tried." 
 
 Walking around the house, he went out upon the village 
 sidewalk. Here he had a better view of the northern 
 sky. 
 
 " It's coming, sure. Guess I'll begin." 
 
 Without further thought he went to the chain-pump that 
 stood in the corner of the garden by the fence. Here, from 
 the ground beside the fence, he took a long wooden spout, 
 made of two boards nailed together V fashion. Placing one 
 
182 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 under the spout of the pump, he laid the other down 
 between the rows of strawberries. Then to the pump. 
 Grasping the handle he began to turn it rapidly. A thick, 
 inkj current of water flowed forth and rushed in a muddy 
 stream through the spout, and then spread itself slowly 
 down the slope of the garden, among the plants. A strong 
 odor arose, but as the north wind blew fresh past the house 
 and out over the empty fields, no inconvenience resulted to 
 anybody. 
 
 As the black stream spread over the garden, it rolled 
 sluggishly down the slope and finally reached the end of 
 the place. Seeing this, Johnny ceased his efibrts, and, 
 procuring a hoe, quickly made a little dam in the stream, ' 
 and by a bit of hydraulic engineering turned the course of 
 the black river to the next row of plants. 
 
 Again the crank was turned, and the turbid water gushed 
 forth and flooded still qjore of the plantation. 
 
 So it went on. Each time the stream reached the foot 
 of the slope a new channel was formed, and the flood di- 
 rected elsewhere. As can be easily seen, this operation 
 was a species of irrigation, only, instead of pure river or 
 spring water, he used a richly ladened stream full of plant 
 food of the most valuable kinds. 
 
 One side of the garden having been thus freely flooded, 
 more spouts were procured, and joined one to another they 
 carried the life-giving current across the path and on to the 
 other bed. 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 183 
 
 Just as it began to flow in the new direction, the clouds 
 threatened rain in real earnest ; the thunder muttered. 
 
 " Good ! " cried John, Jr. " It's coming. Providence 
 is on my side this time. The rain will wash it in finely." 
 
 The thunder pealed louder, and a few big drops pattered 
 down. The crank flew round, and the black river spread 
 in widening floods over the ground. The lightning flashed 
 and the thunder pealed at the same instant. The storm was 
 at hand. Still the sturdy John, Jr., maintained his post. 
 When the current was to be turned, he plied his hoe with 
 speed and dexterity ; he also turned the crank swiftly, and 
 pushed his hydraulics with vigor and success. Just as the 
 stream flowed down the last straAvbei'ry row, the storm burst 
 upon him. The dust from the road swept like a whirlwind 
 down the place, the pear-trees bent before the blast, and the 
 rain came down in a flood. John, Jr., made a vigorous push 
 for the paternal mansion, and just escaped a plentiful duck- 
 ing. 
 
 In a short time the shower passed over, and he went out 
 to see what was the result of the combined artificial and 
 natural hydraulics. 
 
 All traces of the irrigation were gone, — swept away by 
 the rain ; yet the desired result had been obtained, — the 
 plants had been fed. 
 
 The next day the ground was lightly stirred with a hoe, 
 and everything made smooth and sweet again. For that 
 matter, no unpleasantness could be discovered by the time 
 
184 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 the shower had passed. The soil acted as a disinfectant, and 
 absorbed both the water and odor. 
 
 The cistern built to catch all the wastage of every kind 
 from the house and the pump, to spread in a harmless and 
 perfectly proper manner over the land, made the secret of 
 the Wellson success. Without this weekly application to 
 the plants, such a garden, and bearing such crops, would 
 have been nearly impossible. To the chain-pump they owed 
 everything. The great principle, " Waste not anything," as 
 here applied, is the one secret of all successful horticulture. 
 If all the refuse of each dwelling in the land were as care- 
 fully saved and returned to the soil, the barren hills of New 
 England would vie with the prairies in fertility, and millions 
 upon millions of money, that now flows into our seaports 
 and rivers, would reward the toiling farmer, or gladden the 
 patient gardener. 
 
 As it now is, we waste and abandon each year more than 
 enough to support every living creature for life, were it all 
 returned to its proper place, — the soil. 
 
 One of the chief objects in writing this book is to illus- 
 trate the value of this much-neglected principle, — " Waste 
 not anything," — and to show a way of preventing it. [See 
 Appendix B.] 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN, 185 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 UPS AND DOWNS. 
 
 The weeks flew away, and September arrived. The 
 green grapes turned purple on the vines, and the strawberry 
 plants grew apace. Frosty nights threatened to cut oflf the 
 grape crop ; but happily it escaped. The warm, sheltered 
 situation caused the berries to show color several days 
 earlier than in the surrounding country, and the first ripe 
 bunch was gathered one Saturday noon by the impatient 
 Johnny, as soon as he returned from school. It was a fine 
 large cluster, and beautifully covered with bloom. Taking 
 it to the house, he showed it in triumph to his sisters. 
 Mary merely glanced at it, and then went on with her 
 sewing. She was dull and listless then, and did not seem 
 to care for anything in particular. The garden was a sor- 
 row and trial to her. The less she heard of it, the better. 
 Had it not ruined her every prospect? Ten days had 
 slipped away since she had seen him, and no word or sign 
 had she received in all that time. It must be that he had 
 been driven away by seeing her at work in the garden with 
 her brother and sister. 
 
 r^ot so with the lively Kate. 
 
186 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 "You don't mean it, mj boj ! Ripe already! What 
 are you going to do with it? " 
 
 " Use it for a sample. Take it round and show it to the 
 dealers as a specimen of our crop." 
 
 " So I would. I'd go this afternoon. You can have my 
 lunch-basket to carry it in, and I'll line it with soft white 
 paper, so that it will look extra fine." 
 
 " Good for you, Kate ! I'll start right after dinner." 
 
 He did so. Trotting gayly along with his basket he little 
 hoeded the passers, or what they might think of him. 
 Entering the first provision store he came to, he displayed 
 his sample bunch of grapes, and ofiered his crop at market 
 rates, whatever they might be. The man in the store 
 questioned him concerning his fruit, and told him to bring 
 a busherof them as soon as they were ready. 
 
 " What do you mean to pay for them ? " 
 
 " Can't tell. See how they look, and how the market 
 stands. Western grapes will be here soon, and then they 
 will be cheap enough." 
 
 Johnny mentally hoped that the western grapes would 
 stay away a few days. On entering another store, he -met 
 with nearly the same experience. They would buy them if 
 as good as the sample. Feeling highly elated at the pros- 
 pect of the market, he thought he would treat himself. He 
 had worked hard all summer, and virtue should be rewarded. 
 He would indulge in a few peanuts. 
 
 An ancient female, of Irish descent, commonly sat at the 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 187 
 
 foot of a certain tree, knitting a stocking, and tending her 
 little fruit-stand. To her he turned his steps. Arrived 
 there he was surprised to find quite a number of people col- 
 lected around the spot. Pushing through the crowd, he 
 discovered the peanut stand gone, and in its place a huge 
 hamper piled high with fresh grapes. The old woman, 
 usually so quiet, was all activity, weighing and selling her 
 fruit to an eager company of purchasers. In a moment or 
 two all were supplied, and there was a lull in the trade. 
 The western grapes had come. 
 
 " Say, granny, where are your peanuts ? " 
 
 "Peanuts! Why would I have peanuts when the 
 grapes is come ? " 
 
 Johnny was struck with a new idea, and the saleswoman 
 turned to another customer. This was a young nl^n, who, 
 as soon as his purchase was made, turned to go away. As 
 he did so he caught sight of Johnny. He paused and then 
 said : — 
 
 " Is your name Wellson ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir. John Wellson, Jr. What's yours ? ' 
 
 The young man did not reply, but fumbled in his pocket 
 for something. 
 
 " Could you do me a favor? " 
 
 " Guess I could, if it is not holding horses or running 
 errands. Don't like to go errands." 
 
 " It's nothing very severe; merely to give this note to 
 Miss Wellson." 
 
188 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 Johnnj took the delicately scented little note held out to 
 him and turned it over gingerly, 
 
 "Oh! it's for sister, is it? I'll give it to her. I'll 
 put it in the bottom of my basket." 
 
 So saying, he opened his basket and displayed his one 
 bunch of grapes. 
 
 " Them's foine grapes, honey. Do you want to sell 
 sich?" 
 
 "Yes," said Johnny, bravely. "I've got a big crop. 
 They will be ripe soon." 
 
 " I'll give ye tin cents a pound for 'em, honey." 
 
 The young man stared at the two, and then turned 
 away. 
 
 " So it is all true. Here is the boy exposing his doings 
 without' a blush. If so much is true, it may be all 
 true." 
 
 Speaking out suddenly: "Here! young Wellson, let 
 me see that note again." 
 
 But Johnny had gone. Delighted to find still further 
 market for his fruit, he had gone home, swinging his basket 
 as he went. 
 
 Arrived there he went to his sister's room. She was 
 not there. 
 
 "Gone out," said Kate. 
 
 Johnny dived into his basket for the note. Alas I it 
 was not there, — lost ! 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 189 
 
 Johnny's mental atmosphere was depressed. Had we 
 been able to put a barometer into his mind we should have 
 found that it sank rapidly, and finally stood very low. 
 
190 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 WINTEU — IIORTICULTURALLY AND SENTIMENTALLY CONSIDERED. 
 
 To be brief, our Johnny, with Kate's assistance, gathered 
 and sold their crop of grapes. The hydraulics indulged in 
 during the summer had greatly stimulated the vines, and 
 the warm and sheltered situation ripened the fruit quickly 
 and thoroughly. There were about forty vines in all, and, 
 fortunately for Johnny, the gardener formerly employed 
 had taken good care of them and they were in fine condi- 
 tion. They covered the fence on both sides of the garden, 
 and hung heavy with fruit. 
 
 Our hero was much perplexed to decide between the 
 various stores that were ready to take the grapes. Some 
 would pay one price, some another. One man only wanted 
 a few pounds a day, and another the whole crop, provided 
 it was low-priced. Even the peanut woman wanted a few 
 pounds. 
 
 The whole family sat in council upon the subject, and it 
 was decided that, as the children had but little time to spare 
 from school, it was best to get rid of the fruit in the 
 quickest and easiest way possible. To be sure, by running 
 about a little, better figures could be obtained, yet time 
 was worth somethino;. 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. ■ 191 
 
 So the market-man who took the strawberries had the 
 entire crop, sending a team to take it away, and paying ten 
 cents a pound for the lot. 
 
 It amounted to four hundred and fifty-two pounds, which, 
 at ten cents, Avould be forty-five dollars and twenty cents. 
 This, if wo consider the matter, Avas not a very large 
 result ; there being forty vines it averaged only a little 
 over ten pounds to a vine. A fair produce, and no more. 
 Another year's growth, and still greater care in culture, 
 miglit produce something better. 
 
 However this may be the proud John, Jr., was content. 
 The desired hundred dollars had been nearly touched. 
 Upon a sheet of note-paper he made out a statement of the 
 summer's work and the grand result. 
 
 Here it is : — 
 
 Received for Strawberries 
 " " Grapes 
 
 . #40 40 
 
 . 45 20 
 
 , , , ftpt; fin 
 
 Paid for Tools 
 " " Baskets 
 
 4 60 
 
 2 00 
 
 Balance ... 
 
 
 $79 10 
 
 Tn view of this result the Wellson family resolved to 
 stay where they were. The deficit had been made up. 
 The lessened expense, brought about by dispensing during 
 tlie summer with Helen, the maid-of-all-work, and the fruit 
 crop, tided them over this shallow place in their lives and 
 
192' THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 all went smooth again. Not all serene, however. Mary 
 was ill. As the fall burned away into the winter, and the 
 trees exchanged their green and gold for sombre gray, she, 
 too, seemed to droop and fade. Helen was taken back again, 
 and the family doctor privately asked to give his opinion. 
 He was puzzled at first. Then he said, " Her digestion is 
 good and her pulse quiet. She" is well physically ; how she 
 is mentally, could not say. Should jadge something dis- 
 turbed her peace of mind." 
 
 Something did decidedly. The note lost by the careless 
 Johnny, and the sudden discovery of a certain trunk 
 marked for foreign parts at the door of the express office, as 
 she passed one day, combined with a mysterious silence on 
 the part of some one, and a more mysterious and indefinite 
 something in the social atmosphere about her, drove her in 
 upon herself, and she became possessed of a spirit of unrest 
 and melancholy. 
 
 November arrived, with frosty nights and dull, cold 
 days. The leaves fell from the grape-vines, and the straw- 
 berry-vines turned dark and dry. 
 
 The first most important thing in the horticultural pro- 
 gramme for the season was to prune the grape-vines and 
 lay them down for the winter. 
 
 "I'm sure I don't know how to do it," said Johnny, as 
 he contemplated the tangled mass of vines scrambling over 
 the fence. 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 193 
 
 Kate was there, and, girl-like, said, " Ask somebody. 
 There must be a way, somehow." 
 
 "No doubt. Lots of ways. 'Cording to the books 
 there's a dozen." 
 
 "Let's take the easiest. Let me get the book, and 
 perhaps we can make it out by comparing it with the 
 vines." 
 
 Kate procured from the house a work on the culture of 
 the grape, and began to -study it carefully, 
 
 "Bless me! I can't make anything of it. There are 
 all sorts of directions about cane-pruning, fan-pruning, 
 and a dozen other distracting things." 
 
 "Let me see," said Johnny. " Are there not some pic- 
 tures ? They will help us more than any amount of read- 
 ing matter." 
 
 " So they will. See ! " 
 
 Opening the book, Kate displayed two simple cuts. One 
 marked " fan-pruning," and one "spur-pruning." 
 
 "That's him! Fan-pruning!" cried Kate. "Don't 
 you see that is the way the gardener did it last year ? See, 
 there are the three sticks, — these." And she pointed 
 to three, stout, radical arms, reaching from a common 
 root, and spreading in a fan-shape over the trellis that 
 was fastened to the fence. 
 
 " I don't see 'em, Kate. The thing is one grand snarl 
 and jumble of crossing vines." 
 
 " Yes. Tlieje they are. Don't you see they are bigger 
 
19-4 THE STRAWCERIIY GARDEN. 
 
 than the others? And — "she paused to examine the 
 vine closely. 
 
 " And there are the little stumps on them as in the pic- 
 tures. See, the small shoots grow right out of them each 
 time. Give me the knife. I know how to do it." 
 
 Johnny stood lost in wonder, while the bright Kate 
 slashed away in her impulsive style at the vine. The long 
 stems fell about her, and in a moment the tangled mass of 
 twisted vine was reduced to three simple stalks, or canes, 
 about five feet long. Up and down each one she allowed the 
 stumps of the side shoots to remain. Upon each was one 
 or more plump buds. She did not notice them, and though 
 the method she had pursued was a correct one, yet she had 
 chanced upon it almost by accident. The picture had given 
 her the idea in part, and a shrewd guess did the rest. 
 
 Johnny gazed at the denuded vine, and then at the book. 
 
 " Hooray ! Kate. You've hit it ! Now let us see you 
 do it again." 
 
 " Come on, my boy." 
 
 Proudly swinging her knife, she advanced to the next 
 ,vine. Here was a superb tangle. A perfect thicket of 
 interlacing shoots struggled about the trellis. 
 
 Kate paused, appalled at the prospect. 
 
 " This is a tough one, Johnny." 
 
 " Thought you'd be puzzled. I can't see how they do it, 
 for the life of me." 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 195 
 
 "Can't see -what?" said a voice near by. Turning 
 round they beheld their sister. 
 
 "This plaguy pruning. The book says it must be done 
 in the fall. It's time now, and I can't make anything of 
 it." 
 
 " Let me see the book." 
 
 Johnny handed the open book to Mary, and she began to 
 study it intently. 
 
 "It is rather obscure. The writer seems to think we 
 know all about it; whereas, we know nothing." 
 
 " Any way," said Kate, " I did it once, and made it look 
 just like the picture." 
 
 " So you did; but still I don't understand it. Let us 
 read more. We may find something yet. Here's a chapter 
 on pruning. Let me study it." 
 
 So she did, and all to no purpose. 
 
 Johnny and Kate stood idle for a while, and then Mary 
 said slowly, "I think I see through it." 
 
 Reading, — " The grape produces its fruit upon the wood 
 of the current year. This grows upon the wood of the 
 previous year. Therefore, in pruning, cut back to a good 
 bud near the old wood. That is say, I suppose, the bunches 
 hang on wood of the current year, whatever that may 
 mean." 
 
 "That's simple as pie-crust," said Kate. "See, there 
 is a bad bunch still hanging on the vine. The shoot it 
 grows upon must be what they call the current year's wood." 
 
196 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 " I don't see what currants have to do with it." 
 
 Kate laughed. " You are a little goose, Johnny Wellson. 
 Current year means this year." 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 " And if I remember," said Mary, " when we were pinch- 
 ing the shoots last summer, I noticed that the bunches were 
 hanging on the green and tender shoots that grew this 
 season." 
 
 "That's it! That's it!" said Johnny. "They are 
 brown and stiff now, and all look alike. No wonder we 
 could not tell 'em apart." 
 
 "You are right. Now to work. The book says: 
 ' Cut back to a good bud near the wood of the previous 
 year.' In this fashion, I suppose." 
 
 So saying, Mary took the knife and lopped off the shoot 
 upon which the wilted bunch was hanging, 
 
 " You've done it," cried Johnny. " See ! there is the - 
 little stump as it is in the picture." 
 
 The three crowded round, and discovered that, in cutting 
 the shoot, about three inches remained growing on the stout 
 stem from which it had started. 
 
 "Wouldn't it look better if it were cut off close up to 
 the old wood? " 
 
 " Why, no, you would cut away the bud out of which 
 the shoot that is to bear next year is to come. Now, 
 according to my idea of it, all we have to do is to keep cut- 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 197 
 
 ting away the shoots till we have only the thick canes or 
 stems that grew last year, or the year before." 
 
 Without further parley, Mary plied her knife quickly, 
 and soon displayed before their astonished eyes, not a fan- 
 shaped vine, but one having a single stalk dotted up and 
 down the sides with little projecting spurs, or woody points. 
 Each spur had a cluster of buds about it, giving assurance 
 of a bountiful supply of bearing shoots for the next season. 
 
 " Why ! " exclaimed Kate. " I don't see what that was 
 for. Why did not the gardener train them all fan-fashion ? " 
 
 "I'm sure I don't know; but it is plain he did not, for 
 you can see that but one shoot grows from the root." 
 
 The next vine was attacked, and proved that it, too, was 
 only a single cane. 
 
 '' It seems the gardener trained our vines in two different 
 ways. I can't imagine why." 
 
 " Was it not to gain room? These two are planted close 
 together at the end of the fence. Perhaps there jvas not 
 room for a fan-shaped one." 
 
 " You are right, Kate. That solves it. But come, it is 
 getting dark. We can do no more to-day." 
 
 Mary led the way. and Kate and Johnny followed after. 
 
 Kate to her brother in a whisper : ' ' Polly feels better 
 to-day." 
 
 " Course she does. Went out and did something. Noth- 
 ing like working round out-of-doors for some folks." 
 
 Johnny was a philosopher. There is nothing like healthy 
 
198 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 labor for minds disturbed by much brooding over disap- 
 pointment. 
 
 The next afternoon Kate and Johnny trimmed all the 
 vines, and untying them from the trellis, allowed them to 
 fall to the ground. (This trellis was attached to the fence 
 to keep the vines away from the wood- work.) Then, copy- 
 ing the directions in the book, they fastened them flat to the 
 soil, with pointed sticks driven down in this fashion — ^ 
 
 Here they would be secure from the wind, and buried 
 safe under the snow when it came. Nothing more to be 
 done to them till April. 
 
 The writer sincerely hopes that in describing this prun- 
 ing experience he has made the matter plain. There are 
 many other ways of training and pruning the grape ; but 
 these he considers the most simple, and, for general use, the 
 best. Should the reader prefer to groW his grapes to poles, 
 instead of against a wall or fence, the single-cane plan will 
 be found the easiest and best. If the vines are scarce, and 
 fence-room plenty, the fan-shape would be preferable. 
 
 Should the reader reply that he has no grape-vine of any 
 kind, we can only say, get one. If you have no spot of 
 ground to grow it in, cut an oil-cask in two, bore some 
 holes in the bottom, and, procuring some soil from the 
 nearest florist, grow it in that. Whatever you do, plant a 
 vine. 
 
 With the arrival of cold weather the ground froze up 
 tight, and the season's work seemed finished. Yet one 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDJIN. 199 
 
 thing more remained to be done. Hiring a horse and haj- 
 rigging, Johnny drove to the woods to gather leaves. He 
 hired a boy to help him, and in the course of a day they 
 procured dry leaves enough to cover the entire plantation. 
 A load of loose brush was added, and the next day the 
 plants were covered from sight, and the brush spread over 
 all, to keep everything safe from the wind. 
 
 The entire expense of this operation was just six 
 dollars. 
 
 The intelligent reader here wonders why this covering 
 was delayed till the ground was frozen. If the leaves 
 Were to serve as a blanket to keep the plants warm, why 
 was it not spread before cold weather? 
 
 Simply because it was not to keep them warm, but 
 cold. The shelter was not used to ward off the cold, but 
 the heat. Having become well frozen the leaves were used 
 to keep them so. It is not the extreme cold that injures, 
 but the varying heat and cold of our uncertain climate, — 
 the bright sun thawing out the soil one day, and the bit- 
 ing, north wind freezing it the next; this alternate expan- 
 sion by heat and contraction by cold is the cause of all 
 the mischief. Better let them freeze hard, and then stay 
 so till the warm weather really returns. 
 
 A few days after these things the snow flew and winter 
 began without. 
 
 Within too. Our Mary did not seem to improve. She 
 
200 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 kept her room persistently, and refused every social invita- 
 tion. 
 
 " Ah ! that careless, careless Johnny, to lose that 
 precious note ! " wa^ her constant burden. But what 
 mattered it? He, the absent one, wandered in unknown 
 parts, and no sign or word had she received explaining his 
 abrupt and mysterious departure, or even telling where he 
 lingered. The garden had proved efficient in assisting 
 them to maintain their position in society ; but, alas ! at 
 what a heavy cost had it been accomplished. 
 
 The snow lay thick and cold. December days were 
 dull and dark. It was cloudy within and cloudy with- 
 out. 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 201 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THINGS WAKE UP GENERALLY. 
 
 The winter slipped away and spring advanced. The 
 Wellson prospects improved slowly, and things looked 
 brighter. The returning sun seemed to revive all nature, 
 and men became more hopeful and cheerful as the earth 
 laid aside its snowy raiment and made up its face for a 
 smile. Warmer airs from the far south stirred the snow- 
 drops into life, and brought to Mary vague hints of coming 
 joy. A bird sang in the pear-tree by her window. Per- 
 haps it was a messenger from him who wandered. She 
 flung up the sash to hear the new " spring song without 
 words." Down in the garden she could hear the active 
 Johnny at work in his strawberry plantation. She would 
 go down and get a breath of the sweet air, and see what 
 her brother was about. 
 
 When she reached the garden she found Kate there also. 
 Not an idler in the land either. She, stout and rosy girl 
 that she was, illustrated the advantage of an out-of-door 
 life, both in person and cheery good nature. 
 
 "0 Polly! have you seen 'em? Such splendid green 
 shoots bursting through the ground. I can almost see the 
 young blossoms. Look ! " 
 
202 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 Throwing down the armful of sticks she held, she 
 brushed away the leaves, and displayed one of the brown 
 clusters of leaves where a strawberry plant had stood. 
 From the centre a tiny green point thrust its head through 
 the soil. 
 
 "Very good, though I don't see the blossoms." 
 
 "I did, I'm sure. I saw a plant that had one. Oh! 
 they are coming, I know, and we shall have a mighty big 
 crop." 
 
 " What language, Kate ! How can you ? " 
 
 Kate never replied, but gathering her bundle of brush 
 together marched away toward the house, talking the 
 while. 
 
 " Oh ! I know we'll do it this time. We will get our 
 hundred dollars sure — and the grapes — and the pears ; 
 perhaps they will bear this year, and then — then we shall 
 not have to move this year. Aren't you glad, Polly? I 
 am." 
 
 "Yes," said Mary, listlessly. "It will be well, I 
 suppose." 
 
 " You don't seem to care much." 
 
 "No, I do not." 
 
 Kate disappeared with her load, and Mary turned to 
 Johnny. 
 
 " What are you doing ? " 
 
 " Getting ready for the spring. Aren't you glad it's 
 come, Polly? " 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 203 
 
 "Yes," faintly. 
 
 "I am. It's awful jolly to have the snow go. The 
 strawberries will be here soon ; besides, its good weather for , 
 base-ball." 
 
 Johnny went on gathering up the leaves with his hands 
 and crowding them into a basket. They were wet, heavy, 
 and far from easy to handle. 
 
 " Why do you do that? I should imagine they would 
 serve as a mulch." 
 
 ''Mulch ! What's that?" said Kate, just returning. 
 
 " Anything placed on the ground around or over 
 plants. The leaves were a mulch. When the berries 
 ripen you will have to spread a mulch over the soil to keep 
 them clean. That's why they are called strawberries, — 
 berries that grow among straw, as straw was first used as a 
 mulch." 
 
 "Hear the girl!" cried Johnny. " One would think 
 she had eaten two whole books on strawberry culture. 
 Why did you not give us the benefit of your learning 
 before?" 
 
 Mary confessed that she had only read that much quite 
 lately. 
 
 More discussion ensued, and they decided to let the 
 leaves remain where they were. 
 
 Johnny went carefully over the bed and brushed away 
 the thickest of the loaves around the plants, to give them a 
 better chance to push through. The surplus was spread 
 
204 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 in the paths, to keep the berries clean. The rains of 
 winter had beaten the leaves down flat, and they made a 
 smooth, clean carpet over all. This prevented any culti- 
 vation of the soil ; but the advantage gained by keeping the 
 weeds away and the soil moist, more than restored the 
 balance. 
 
 Insensibly, the fresh air and new objects and interests 
 had their effect upon our Mary, and she became brighter 
 and better. 
 
 The spring advanced rapidly, and every plant started 
 into new and active life. As soon as they were fairly 
 started, and about the time the forest trees put forth their 
 leaves, the hydraulics were resorted to frequently with 
 most astonishing results. How the things did grow, to be 
 sure ! Such splendid leaves and sturdy clusters of buds ! 
 Really, the prospect was very encouraging. 
 
 The grapes, too, came in for a share of the attentions of 
 our trio. At the suggestion of Mary, they removed the 
 stakes, and fastened the long base shoots once more to the 
 trellis. It was quite an undertaking, but time and patience 
 are equal to anything. 
 
 The routine of the garden for this spring was very 
 simple. The planting was all done, and, as the strawber- 
 ries occupied every available foot of ground, the young 
 folks were relieved from all further trouble, and the actual 
 amount of work to be done was extremely small. The 
 mulch kept down rfie weeds, and beyond this, till the time 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 205 
 
 came for gathering the new crop, there was liitle else to be 
 done. 
 
 As the blossom buds pushed out and lay thick and 
 suggestive among the plants, the Wellson spirits rose. 
 Even the toiler of the family was cheered at the sight of 
 the expected crop, and still more at the bright and happy 
 looks of the young people. The out-of-door life, and 
 the interest excited, by having something to show for the 
 labor of his hands, stirred to more active and uproariously 
 jolly life, the sturdy young John, Jr. As for Kate, she 
 was just merging into young womanhood, and perhaps her 
 spirits were toned down slightly, yet the brilliant color 
 and clear, healthy glow on her face showed that the out- 
 of-door life was of benefit. Yes, — that's it : Work, out- 
 of-doors ; something to do in the real tangible wo\"ld of 
 nature, — that is the cure for many an ail and ill both 
 mental and bodily. Her loveliness, Mary, seemed to think 
 so. Her color returned, and though there was sometimes a 
 shade of sadness in her eyes, she was generally her old 
 serene and delightful self 
 
 So much for the strawberry garden as a medical pre- 
 scription. The family doctor nodded his head, saying with 
 a smile, " Nothing like a little out-of-door employment, 
 Mrs. Wellson. Nothing like healthful work." [See Ap- 
 pendix C] 
 
206 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN". 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE STRAWBERRY SHOW AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 
 
 The Wellson kitchen. Mrs. Wellson, Johnny, and 
 Mary, busily sorting and arranging heaps of ripe straw- 
 berries. The table is piled high with fruit, and a huge 
 hamper stands loaded by the door. All is activity and 
 bustle. A most tremendous crop of fruit, and the entire 
 village wild to purchase it. Out in the garden two young 
 girls, hired by the day, are picking as fast as their fingers 
 can fly. In the village street are four private carriages 
 drawn up in line, and just outside the back door, in the 
 yard, is a broad table, made of boards supported on barrels. 
 A T/hite cloth is spread over it, and everything is as nice 
 as a new pin. The blooming Kate, activity itself, is wait- 
 ing upon half-a-dozen impatient people, who present 
 baskets and tin kettles to be filled with the luscious fruit. 
 Kate measures it out, a piled-up quart, at a time, and gives 
 it to the various purchasers. Soon all the fruit on the 
 table is gone and she runs to the house for more. Burst- 
 ing into the room, she extends her hands stuffed with scrip. 
 
 "Give me your money-box. Sold out. Some more 
 berries, Johnny. They are going like hot cakes." 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 207 
 
 " Hooray, Kate ! Give it to' em ! More berries. Fly 
 round, Mary ! There's lots of folks coming." 
 
 More people crowded into the little yard, and Kate 
 grasped the huge hamper and went forth to meet the new 
 demand. As she placed her load on the little counter, she 
 glanced at the people. There were two elderly gentlemen, 
 a young girl, and a young gentleman with only one arm. 
 Kate did not recognize him at first, but as he drew near 
 she saw who it was, and dropped her tin measure in a little 
 fright. 
 
 One of the elderly gentlemen offered a basket. 
 
 " Give me four quarts, miss." 
 
 Kate, with trembling fingers, and her thoughts in a per- 
 fect whirl, mechanically handed out two quarts, and said 
 briefly : — 
 
 " Sixty cents, sir. Thirty cents a quart." 
 
 " I said four quarts,j if you please." 
 
 " Oh ! excuse me. I didn't think." 
 
 While she measured out the rest, the two gentlemen fell 
 to talking : — 
 
 " Wellson hit the nail on the head this time." 
 
 "Yes. They are the best berries I ever bought. I'm 
 glad enough to pay the price. They are sure to be fresh 
 and clean." 
 
 " That is true, and our young lady gives us good meas- 
 ure. The idea of selling their surplus berries in this way 
 
208 THE STRAAVBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 is certainly a new one. I suppose Wellson makes a good 
 thing of it- How much do jou sell in a day, miss? " 
 
 " About twenty-five dollars' worth. We could do better 
 if we only had more land." 
 
 " Don't think it, my dear. That never follows. It is 
 the high culture of the small farm that is best. Had you 
 more land, you would not cultivate it so thoroughly. Here 
 is your money." 
 
 Kate took the change, and then turned to her next cus- 
 tomer. While she was serving him, the young gentleman 
 stood aloof, looking gravely on. 
 
 " What folly in me ! " said he to himself " Why should 
 not they, or any one, do this ? I fancy that nonsense is 
 well knocked out of me, now that it is too late. My in- 
 sane and foolish pride has done it all, and — well — I might 
 try, at any rate. I'll do it.". 
 
 The other people were now served, and went away. 
 Kate was in a perfect tremor of excitement. She managed 
 to stammer out : — 
 
 " Will you have any fruit, sir? " 
 
 " Yes — no — why, yes, — I will, only I have nothing 
 to take it in." 
 
 " Let me get you a basket," said Kate. Away she flew 
 towards the house. As she pushed into the kitchen she 
 cried, "0 Mary ! Mary! " 
 
 She paused abruptly. Mary was not there. 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 209 
 
 "Mary has gone to dress for the Strawberry Show. 
 What do you want ? " 
 
 " Nothing, — only a basket." 
 
 When she returned, she was surprised to find her father 
 talking pleasantly with the young man. 
 
 " When did you return ? " 
 
 " Only this morning." 
 
 " Ah ! your departure was sudden, and your return a 
 surprise, — and a pleasure, I'm sure. We shall be glad to 
 have you call." 
 
 The young man looked as if he would be glad too, very. 
 
 "Here's Kate," said her father, laying his hand on her. 
 fly-away hair, and smiling at her rosy face and bright eyes. 
 " She is our gardener and saleswoman. Our wonderful suc- 
 cess in our little garden is mainly owing to her eflbrts. 
 She and Johnny have run the whole establishment." 
 
 " Say Mary, too, father; she helped us whenever we had 
 a hard place. Besides, it was her idea that we sell the 
 berries in — " 
 
 Suddenly she thought of something, and blushed scarlet. 
 Her father looked amused, and the young man studied his 
 boots intently. 
 
 Just at this point Johnny appeared with another hamper 
 of fruit. More people crowded into the yard, and in the 
 new demand Kate forgot both her father and the young 
 man. 
 
 Five minutes after saw the berries all gone, and more 
 
210 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 customers waiting to be served. Kate turned the basket 
 upside down and said : — 
 
 " Sold out. All gone. More to-morrow." Still the car- 
 riages drew up at the gate, and the people streamed into the 
 yard, asking for those extra fine, extra large, and every way 
 extra, Wellson strawberries. There were no such berries in 
 the market, and they were certainly worth double the price 
 asked. 
 
 But it could not be helped. 
 
 "We have sold out," said Kate. "Glad to take your 
 orders for to-morrow." 
 
 Many left their orders, and at last they all departed. 
 Kate, singing merrily to herself, began to fold up the cloth 
 on her counter. Looking up, she beheld the young man 
 writing a little note, with his left hand upon his knee. 
 Soon it was done, and, folding the paper as best he could, he 
 gave it to Kate, saying : — 
 
 "Would you be so kind as to hand that to your sister, 
 Miss Wellson ? " 
 
 "Oh, with pleasure," said Kate, blushing, and beaming 
 radiantly upon him. 
 
 She took the note and thrust it into her pocket. Just 
 then more impatient people came for the wonderful Wellson 
 strawberries. 
 
 " All gone," said Kate. 
 
 The people grumbled mildly, and then departed. Look- 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 211 
 
 ing about for the young man, she found that he had disap- 
 peared. 
 
 Kate seized her roll of cloth, made a grand flourish with 
 it in the air, and said, " Hooray for the strawberry-bed ! as 
 Johnny says. It brings the money, — and — Oh! I 
 am so glad. Where can that blessed Mary be? I must 
 find her this minute, and give her this precious note. I 
 suppose she has gone to the Strawberry Show. I'll go too." 
 
 The Wellson dining-room. Father and Mother Wellson 
 studying a small account-book. No sorrowful looks now. 
 The balance is on the other side ; the result — happiness. 
 
 " And it is our children who have done this." 
 
 "Yes, the best of the whole affair is in our children. 
 The money is well ; but it is not all. Oh, not all. Think 
 of our splendid boy, and Kate, too, the healthy and happy ! 
 And Mary. Happiness has come to her, too, I hope." 
 
 " What do you mean, wife ? " 
 
 " Are you so blind ? Have you not seen it ? " 
 
 " Really, no. It must be that I was much taken with 
 my glorious Kate. Isn't she a treasure ? " 
 
 " Not one, my love, all are treasures; and to think how 
 what seemed a sorrow has turned to joy. Oh, that every 
 one would lead their children to see the blessedness of hon- 
 est work ! But come, it is time to go, if we care to see the 
 prizes given out." 
 
 It was in the Town Hall. The whole village and his 
 wife were in their Sunday best, and on its way to the Show. 
 
212 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 The local Horticultural Society had offered a tempting ar- 
 ray of prizes for the best berries, and everybody was eager 
 to see who had won them. Strawberry culture was prac- 
 tised quite generally in the country thereabout. Mary, with 
 her father and mother, had gone before, and Kate, escorted 
 by her brother, followed after. 
 
 When they reached the door, they paused to read a flam- 
 ing placard announcing the list of prizes. 
 
 " Twenty dollars for the best basket of one variety. Ten 
 dollars for the second best, — and, Kate, they are going 
 to give a silver cup for the three best baskets of any varieties. 
 If we should get that, wouldn't it be fine ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Kate, scornfully. " Some little child's 
 plated cup. Who cares for that ? I'd rather have the 
 twenty dollars, any day." 
 
 "Perhaps we may get it. Who knows? Our baskets 
 were pretty fine, I can tell you. There were not many as 
 good." 
 
 With a good deal of excitement, and curious to see how 
 things would turn out, they paid for their tickets and 
 entered the hall. It was very warm and close. The 
 people crowded round, and the village brass played in the 
 most approved manner. Everybody talked as loud as they 
 could, and altogether it was a very great occasion. 
 Johnny pushed through the crowd, and dragged his sister 
 after, as best he might. As for seeing anything, it was 
 next to impossible. 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 213 
 
 " Let's get up on the platform, Johnny. We can't see 
 a thing here." 
 
 " Come on, then." 
 
 Suddenly the brass uproar ceased, and the vocal uproar, 
 finding itself alone, dropped down also. 
 
 Then there was a movement among the people, and our 
 young folks found themselves pushed along towards the 
 wall. The people about them were extra tall folks, and 
 tliey could not see. 
 
 '•This is not lovely," said Kate. "Let us get up on 
 this seat." 
 
 With an eifort Johnny climbed upon a settee standing 
 against the wall, and then assisted Kate to mount beside 
 him. 
 
 " This is just gay," said Johnny. " We can see every- 
 body." 
 
 "Yes, and be seen. It's rather conspicuous. What 
 would mother say, if she were to see us perched up here ? " 
 
 Johnny would have replied, but just then a big, burly 
 man, with a rough, roaring voice, mounted the platform, 
 and, gazing over the sea of heads, called the company to 
 order. 
 
 "They are going to give out the prizes. We shall 
 have a splendid chance to see who gets 'em." 
 
 The crowd became reasonably quiet, except around the 
 edges, where certain boys in the veal period, and sundry 
 juvenile couples, would persist in whispering. 
 
214 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 Then the president made the usual horticultural show- 
 speech, which we will not report, as it was just like a dozen 
 others you have no doubt heard or read. 
 
 Then came the list of prizes to be awarded bj the com- 
 mittee on fruit. The honorable officers on the stage, and 
 the band listened with exemplary patience. Curiously 
 enough, the list began at the little end, and the 
 lucky person was requested to step up and receive from the 
 president the prize. The small prizes were announced 
 first, and as the list went on, our young people listened, in 
 a flutter of excitement. If their baskets of fruit should 
 draw a prize, how very splendid it would be ! 
 
 Nearer and nearer to the end came the list. As the five 
 and ten dollar prizes were announced, a breeze of excite- 
 ment swept over the assembly. Each one, as his name 
 was announced, was congratulated by his neighbors, and a 
 little buzz of talk spread through the company. The 
 president paused The last and highest prizes were 
 reached. 
 
 " For the best single basket, twenty dollars. To Mas- 
 ter John Wellson, Jr." 
 
 Kate gave a little scream, and then put her hand over 
 her mouth. Instantly she dropped from her perch to the 
 floor. She struck her knee on the seat, and the pain was 
 sharp, but that was nothing. Only let her get down out 
 of sight of all these people. How they did stare, to be 
 sure ! John, Jr., was bolder, and kept his place in spite of 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN-. 215 
 
 the five hundred pair of eyes levelled at him. How 
 quicklj everybody found him out ! 
 
 " Make way for the boy," said a burly man near by. 
 
 " Come, sonny. Go get your prize. You won it fairly. 
 I've seen you at work, and you deserve it, because you 
 did not mind the talk they made about you." 
 
 Johnny climbed doivn, and, the crowd making a lane for 
 him, he started to get his prize. Kate mustered courage 
 to follow him. As she went along all sorts of remarks fell 
 on her ear : — 
 
 "Good for them! They done it theirselves. So much 
 for not being afraid of work, nor of the mean talk." 
 
 When they reached the front of the stage, Kate was sur- 
 prised to see the faded little Widow Scrabbins and her 
 gossipy friends ; Farmer Gooding and his blooming daugh- 
 ters ; a certain one-armed young man ; and she even thought 
 she saw her father and mother, both looking very 
 radiant. 
 
 The president leaned forward and said to Johnny : — 
 
 " Is your name Well son ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir. John Wellson, Jr. I will take the prize." 
 
 Kate pinched his arm, and the president laughed good- 
 naturedly. 
 
 " With pleasure. You have fairly won the prize. 
 Sucli an industrious worker deserves this, and more." 
 
 A new twenty-dollar bill was placed in his hands, and 
 the people crowded round to congratulate him. 
 
216 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 " Let US go home, Kate. Come.'' 
 
 Kate, beaming with happiness, and flushed with success, 
 prepared to follow him. For a moment thoughts of the 
 petty gossips and their doings flashed through her mind. 
 
 "Where now are the folks that said such horrid things 
 about us ? They'd like the prize themselves, I suppose. 
 But we'll forgive them. I'd forgive anybody, I feel so 
 happy." 
 
 Congratulations poured in upon them from every side. 
 All thoughts of ill-will, towards even the Widow Scrabbins, 
 fled before her present joy. 
 
 The president called the people to order : — 
 
 " Will the audience please give attention ? There is one 
 more prize. For the three best baskets of any kind, — a 
 silver goblet, to Miss Kate Wellson." 
 
 Every spark of color left her face. She .was panic- 
 stricken and wanted to fly, but could not. The crowd 
 pressed closer round her, and a murmur of applause spread 
 through the company. 
 
 " Go get it, miss," said some one beside her. "Go get 
 it." 
 
 She tried to run away, and looked to Johnny for assist- 
 ance. He was gone, — lost in the crowd. 
 
 "Walk right up, miss, and take your prize," said sev- 
 er.al about her. 
 
 " Take my arm. Miss Wellson. I will escort you." 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 217 
 
 She looked up timidly, and saw beside her a certain 
 young gentleman, with but one arm. 
 
 She blushed scarlet. " Oh ! that note. She had not 
 delivered it yet." 
 
 " Thank you, sir,"' she modestly said, took his proffered 
 arm, and marched up to the platform in the company of the 
 just returned squire's son. 
 
 The people made way for them, and the beautiful silver 
 cup was placed in her hands. 
 
 "How lovely! Isn't it beautiful? Won't Mary be 
 glad to see it? " 
 
 The arm on which she leaned trembled slightly, and her 
 cavalier turned his face away. Full of her wonderful 
 experience, she went on talking gayly. 
 
 " Oh, how perfectly splendid ! The very thing sister 
 was wanting for a spoon-holder." 
 
 The young man looked at her curiously. 
 
 " Is your sister going to begin house-keeping ? " 
 
 " Oh, dear ! no. Ah ! there she is ! " 
 
 " Where ? " said the young man. 
 
 '' Just by the door. Oh, she has gone, the little goosie ! 
 She has run away. Come, wouldn't you like to help me 
 find her? " 
 
 " With pleasure. May I not escort you from the hall?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, all the way home if you like," said the happy 
 Kate. To be escorted through the company by the squire's 
 son, and to allow all to sec the prize cup, was certainly the 
 
218 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 happiest event in her life. She was quite upset, and was 
 not sure what she did say. 
 
 Her good-nature fairly bubbled over, and with hearty 
 gayety she beguiled the way, leading the young man, — 
 to happiness — or sorrow — which ? 
 
 As they drew near home, Kate suddenly remembered the 
 note in her pocket. 
 
 "Oh! what shall I do? I don't know that you will 
 forgive me." 
 
 "Why not? What for?" 
 
 " The note. You see I have not been able to see her 
 yet ; and then there were so many things going on, really, 
 I quite forgot all about it." 
 
 "Don't trouble yourself, Miss Wellson. No doubt you 
 would have delivered it if you had seen her. Yet, now I 
 think, you may give it to me, and I'll see her myself." 
 
 " Oh, no, I can't really. We — that is, Johnny — lost 
 a note once that some one gave him for Mary, and she was 
 dreadfully sorry about it for a long time." 
 
 " Was she, indeed ? " 
 
 Just at this point they reached the Wellson gate. Kate, 
 all eagerness to show her prize, was on the point of rushing 
 into the house in her usual impetuous manner. 
 
 " You will not forget the note," said the young man. 
 
 "Oh, no indeed; but aren't you coming in? Mary 
 will be so gla — " 
 
 She put her hand over her mouth suddenly, looked hard 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 219 
 
 at the silver goblet for a moment, and then with ready wit 
 held open the gate. With a smile she said : — 
 
 " Come in." 
 
 At this moment the uproarious Johnny appeared, accom- 
 panied by the man who kept the village hotel. 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Johnny, "you may have 'em and wel- 
 come. The folks in the hall will give 'em to you, if you 
 send the baskets home." 
 
 The man took out his purse, and gave Johnny a five- 
 dollar bill, and then went away. 
 
 The excitable boy, without noticing the arrival, flung his 
 hat in the air, and cried out, ' ' Three cheers for the straw- 
 berry garden ! " 
 
 " Hooray ! " cried Johnny. • 
 
 " Hurrah ! " cried the young man, waving his cap. 
 
 "Hurrah, boys! " said Kate, displaying the glittering 
 prize. 
 
 Some one in the house, hearing the noise, drew up a cur- 
 tain and looked out, Johnny caught sight of the goblet, 
 and was transfixed in astonishment. Somebody else saw 
 something, and — four people, " lost in wonder, love, and 
 praise." Tableau. 
 
 Two hours later. The twilight was fading, and over the 
 tall house-tops rose the summer moon. Two young people 
 walking down the narrow garden-path among the straw- 
 berries. How very slow they did walk, to be sure ! They 
 had so nmch to say to each other. 
 
220 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 " And you will forgive me ? " 
 
 " Edward, you know I will. I never doubted you an 
 instant." 
 
 " What you say makes me the more sad. I doubted 
 myself. Remember my mother, and her Wretched teach- 
 ings. She it was, who, hearing the distorted stories of your 
 doings, made me believe it were dishonorable to work with 
 one's hands. In my vanity, I associated debasement and 
 loss of all that is best in a young lady, with the idea of her 
 being at work like a common laborer." 
 
 ' ' And you failed to see that — 
 
 " ' Where love's the cause, 
 The meanest work's divme.'" 
 
 " I did, and cannot cease to blame myself." 
 She placed her hand on his mouth, and said : — 
 "It is more blessed to forgive than be forgiven. Now 
 tell me how it happened that you ran away, and never 
 sent me a single line for all those long months, and then let 
 me tell you a fable." 
 
 " I was called away to New York, then sailed for South 
 America very suddenly on business. I did write to you, 
 and gave the note to your brother. As for further cor- 
 respondence, another time I will tell the long and dreary 
 story. The accident which cost me my arm, and the two 
 occasions when I was ill, explain in part. The rest an- 
 other time. The fable, please." 
 
THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 221 
 
 " Once upon a time, a man met with some injury, and 
 his neighbors reported that he had been attacked in the 
 woods by twenty black crows and nearly beaten to death by 
 their strong and ragged wings. How the little black spot 
 on his forehead grew to cover his whole face ; how he looked 
 as black as a crow ; how a crow chased him ; how two crows 
 had pursued him ; how the two crows became twenty, and 
 how, what was a mere scratch because it was black, grew 
 to this formidable history, would make a queer study for 
 a student of human nature. Such is gossip." 
 
 "Wisdom itself. Come, my dear, let us cross the gar- 
 den wall, and wander together in the open fields for g< few 
 moments. The night is fine and the moon is bright." 
 
 They wandered — for a lifetime. 
 
 Six months later. A very strong fragrance as of tube 
 roses and orange-blossoms pervades the Wellson mansion. 
 
 The horticultural season is over, and Johnny is counting 
 his gains in his own room. Here is the account for the 
 season : — 
 
 Received last year, $79 10 
 
 Received for 2,082 qts. of strawberries, at 30 cents, . . C2'l GO 
 
 " " 400 lbs. of grapes, at 10 cents, . . . .40 00 
 
 " " lot of pears, 15 00 
 
 " " sale of prize fruit, 5 00 
 
 Prize, 20 00 
 
 $783 70 
 
222 THE STRAWBERRY GARDEN. 
 
 Cost of original planting, including labor and plants : — 
 
 Labor of man one week, $12 00; plants, $30 00; mulch, $G GO, 48 00 
 
 Interest on 30,000 feet of land, at 6 cents a foot, for two years, 108 20" 
 
 Cost of culture and use of fixtures, 12 90 
 
 Cost of vines and culture, 60 00 
 
 $229 10 
 
 Grand total result^. $554 60 
 
 As the account is finished, Johnny jumps up and cries, 
 " Hooray ! Hooray ! We have done it this time, sure." 
 
 The door opens suddenly, and a vision of feminine love- 
 liness, arrayed in gorgeous apparel, as for some festive occa- 
 sion, enters. 
 
 " Look at that, Kate. Look at that." 
 
 Kate took the proffered sheet gingerly in her kid-gloved 
 hands. " Yes, yes, Johnny, I see. It's perfectly splendid-, 
 but, oh, dear, aren't you dressed for church yet? The car- 
 riages -will be here in half an hour." 
 
 "I know it. I'll be ready. But just think of the 
 strawberry-garden ! Isn't it jolly ? " 
 
 " Yes, I see ; but you must hurry. Indeed, you must. 
 There's mother calling. I must run." 
 
 And she ran away, leaving the door open behind her. A 
 delicious odor of mingled flowers, cake and coffee floated 
 into the room. 
 
 "Hi!" said the boy, a boy still; "that smells good. 
 What a stunning wedding sister Mary is going to have, 
 to be sure ! Now John Wellson, Jr., get into your new 
 coat with tails, and prepare for a very grand occasion." 
 
A r r i: N 1) 1 X . 
 
 APPENDIX A. 
 
 It may be well to state that the kinds of strawberries used 
 by Mr. Harker were the Brighton Pine and the Lady of the 
 Lake, two varieties originating in his own State, Mass. 
 
 They are not offered as the best, but as illustrating the 
 only principle that should guide the grower in selecting the 
 kinds most suitable for him. Grow those kinds known to suc- 
 ceed best in your own neighborhood. 
 
 APPENDIX B. 
 
 Domestic waste. By this is meant all the liquid refuse 
 of every kind from the house. On the Wellson estate every 
 drop of water from the sink, the bath-room, and water-closet 
 was collected in a large cistern sunk in the ground at a 
 short distance from the house. This mixture was used as 
 described, and proved efficient in keeping the land up to a 
 highly fertile point. The pump was used regularly summer 
 and winter, and no inconvenience resulted to anybody. In 
 winter it ran away under the snow, and, in summer, advan- 
 tage was taken of a fall of rain, to wash it into the soil. 
 
 Very few people are aware of the great waste in our 
 
 223 
 
224 APPENDIX. 
 
 households. Were it all saved, the result in abundant crops 
 would astonish even practical gardeners. This plan is in 
 operation at the Horticultural School with which the writer 
 is connected, though in a somewhat different way. Instead of 
 using the material in a liquid form, absorbents are used, and 
 the result is an abundant supply of fertilizers for garden 
 purposes at a very low cost. 
 
 The writer himself uses a chain-pump, as described in 
 this chapter, in the business operations of the gardening 
 .firm, to which he belongs, at West Newton, Mass. 
 
 APPENDIX C. 
 
 The after culture of the strawberry plantation was this : 
 The leaves that lay thickly scattered over the soil decayed, 
 and as soon as the crop was gone they were lightly forked 
 into the ground. Through the summer and fall frequent 
 stirrings of the ground and the persistent cutting away of all 
 the runners made the most of the work. The rest was 
 merely to keep things clean and nice. 
 
 The work for the next season was but a repetition of this, 
 with one exception, — when the crop was picked, the whole 
 affair was ploughed up, and the land given over to some other 
 crop. Whether the land was ever planted with strawberries 
 again is more than can be said, as the writer has not visited 
 the Wellson family since. 
 
VEGETABLES. 
 
 "GARDEN SASS."' 
 
 FARMING i?r INCHES; OR, " WITH 
 BRAINS, sir:' 
 
 MR. AND MRS. ROBERT NELLSON'S SUCCESSFUL EXPERIMENT. 
 
FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE DREAM REALIZED. 
 
 "Well, doctor, what is it?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing serious as yet. He seems very weak, but 
 I cannot discover symptoms of any definite disease. I 
 think his ilhiess is more the result of overwork than of any- 
 thing else. He is asleep now, and had best not be 
 awakened." So saying he opened the front door and de- 
 parted into the gas-lighted street. 
 
 Locking the door, I went upstairs, turned down the gas 
 in my husband's sick room, and, wrapping a shawl about me 
 sat down by the fire in the next room to watch and to think. 
 
 My husband, the head book-keeper in a down-town com- 
 mission-house, had been brought home in a carriage that 
 morning quite ill. He had not been well for some time, but, 
 not thinking it anything serious, had continued his daily 
 labor at his desk. At night he had seemed worse ; so I 
 called the doctor. You have just heard what he said as he 
 
 227 
 
228 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 went away a few moments since. We have been married 
 about a year. This house, No. 95 Columbia Avenue, is cur 
 home. We are both orphans, and have no relations of any 
 kind, save an uncle of my husband's living in Arenac, 
 some fifty miles from the city. So far our married life has 
 been very happy. Our income was sufficient to give us a 
 home, comfortable, if not luxurious. But now a cloud had 
 risen. My husband and bread-winner was sick, and that 
 meant poverty. If he could not toil at his desk, our income 
 was at an end, and with all our economy we had laid aside 
 but a trifling sum for such a contingency as had now over- 
 taken us. Should he remain ill for many weeks, our case 
 would be desperate. Slowly turning over these things in 
 my mind, I sat gazing at the fire, and trying to build up in 
 the glowing coals some vision of the future. After a while, 
 weary with watching, I fell asleep in my chair. Suddenly 
 I seemed transported to some distant spot. I thought I was 
 in a quiet room somewhere in -the country. The window 
 where I sat looked out upon meadows green, fair with 
 flowers. Graceful vines trailed over the casement and cast 
 a checkered shade on the floor. The sun was sliining 
 brightly, and a gentle breeze just stirred the leaves upon 
 the tall trees that grew beside the house. Presently the 
 door opened, and Robert, my husband, entered, and, oh, 
 how changed ! He seemed ten years younger. Perfect 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 229 
 
 health flushed his cheek and sparkled in his eyes. His 
 voice, usually so weak and thin, greeted me with loud and 
 hearty welcome. Overcome with joy, I went to meet him 
 — and woke up to find the fire out and the cold, gray 
 light of a winter's morning streaming in at the window. 
 Peering out through the frosted panes, I saw a heavily 
 laden horse-car painfully toiling through the snowy street. 
 A few pedestrians, well wrapped up, were hurrying along 
 the sidewalk, trying to keep warm. The sky was the color 
 of lead; and the air was full of falling snow. Altogether, 
 it was a dreary scene. Going to my husband, I found him 
 still asleep. As I stood looking at him, I was struck by 
 the pinched and haggard expression of his face. It was 
 the face of a man starved for the want of fresh air and 
 sunshine. Presently he opened his eyes and smiled on 
 me ; but it only made me heart-sick to see it. It was a sad 
 and weary smile. 
 
 But why prolong the story? For six long weeks I 
 hardly left him for a moment. The doctor came nearly 
 every day. My husband's employers called several times, 
 offered every kindness, and, in the spirit of true and honora- 
 ble merchants, continued his salary during his illness. At 
 last he was able to sit up, and could even sit by the window 
 for an hour or so, and amuse himself by looking on the 
 busy street. Yet he seemed very weary and listless all the 
 
230 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 time. I tried hard, but failed, to interest him in, any thing. 
 One day, to entertain him, I told him my dream. 
 
 " Yes, Harriet, but it was only a dream. Such a pleasant 
 home is never destined to be ours." 
 
 Then he leaned back in his chair, and seemed lost in 
 thought, while I went on with my sewing. In a moment or 
 two a smile flitted over his face, and he stared very hard 
 out of the window as if he saw something vastly amusing 
 in the street. But this did not last long ; he soon turned 
 away, and the same old look of weariness returned. 
 
 " A penny for your thoughts, my dear," said I. " If 
 they are pleasant ones, give me my share ; if they are sad 
 ones, let me divide the burden with you." 
 
 " I was thinking of your dream, and wishing we coidd 
 make it come true. These brick walls and Farwell & Co.'s 
 sunless cistern of a counting-room are slowly killing me. 
 But it is of no use. I could not earn my salt in the 
 country." 
 
 Farther conversation was then silenced by the entrance 
 of the doctor. To tell the truth, I was not glad to see him. 
 His bill was already large enough, and we should have a 
 sorrowful time in paying it off, and to see it increased by 
 another visit was not pleasing. Yet I was mistaken in the 
 man. He had come to do us a real kindness. Going up to 
 Robert, he took his hand and said, " This will be m3' last 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 231 
 
 visit at present, Mr. Nelson. In a few days, I think you 
 may venture out for a walk in the middle of the day. You 
 must not think of returning to your desk for some time. 
 To tell the truth, I have come this afternoon to say that in 
 my opinion you had better never return to your counting- 
 room at all. Nature has now given you one fair warning. 
 This illness, if you read it rightly, is sent to inform you 
 that she objects to your occupation. You must heed her, 
 and give it up." 
 
 " "Well, doctor, if I did not know you to be a man of 
 sense and education, I should say you were getting quite 
 
 wild. The thing is impossible. What can I do, if I leave 
 the office?" 
 
 " That is more than I know ; but I do know that you must 
 
 throw up your business, or shorten your life by about twenty 
 
 years. Your desk will as surely kill you as any other 
 
 slow poison." 
 
 "You may be right," said my husband, after a pause. 
 
 " I have even thought of this myself at times. But what 
 
 can I do ? Where and how can we live ? " 
 
 " How you can live is more than I can tell. Where — is 
 
 plain enough. You must live out of town — or die. Come, 
 
 take my advice, sell out and move into the country." 
 
 " A very pretty idea, doctor ; but in the country I should 
 
 quietly starve. I may as well stagger along as I am for a 
 
232 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 few years, as to go from the city and die of poverty in a few 
 weeks." 
 
 " Nonsense ! man ; you are sick, and hardly know what 
 you are saying. The idea of a man of your education want- 
 ing for support anywhere ! Take my advice, seek some 
 out-of-door employment, — farming, surveying, — anything 
 that will keep you out under the open sky and in the fresh 
 air." 
 
 To this there was no reply save a gloomy shake of the 
 head. Then the doctor bade us good-day. As I opened 
 the door to let him out, he said to me, " Mrs. Nelson, 
 there is but one thing to be done. Take your husband 
 away from the city, and keep him away ; that is, if you 
 wish to see him live." 
 
 Next morning the letter-carrier brought a black-bordered 
 letter for my husband. I gave it to him, and he broke 
 the seal and read it. It did not seem to interest him much, 
 for he merely said, " Old Uncle Jacob is dead. Poor 
 man ! his was a dull and lonely life up there at Aren'ac. 
 It must be almost a relief to be taken away, and to join his 
 long-dead wife and children." Then he continued his 
 reading. Soon he came to something interesting, for he 
 brightened up, and with a smile passed the letter to 
 me. 
 
 It was as follows : — 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 233 
 
 "AnENAC, March 3, 186-. 
 " Mr. Egbert Nelson. 
 
 " Dear Sir : It is our painful duty to inform you that your 
 uncle, Jacob Nelson, died at his residence a few days since, and 
 was buried yesterday. We would have informed you of this 
 before, but we were ignorant of the fact that he had any living 
 relations. "We were only apprised of it this morning by finding 
 his will among his papers. By the said will you are made his 
 sole heir. His property consists of the small house in which he 
 lived, a parcel of land, and a small sum of money in our Savings 
 Bank. The house is unoccupied at present, and awaits your 
 disposal. The estate could be sold readily, if you have no other 
 use for it. An early visit from you is desirable. 
 " Your obedient servants, 
 
 "CRESSWELL & JOHNSON, 
 
 ^^ Attorneys and Solicitors." 
 
 "When shall you go?" said I. 
 
 "Go where?" 
 
 " Why, to Arenac, to see our little estate ! '* 
 
 " No, I'll not go at all. I will write to these people, 
 and have them sell the place and remit the money. I can- 
 not afford the time or money to travel so far." 
 
 " Now, Robert, I object. Let us both go there. It will 
 do us good to have a short trip into the country. The 
 
234 
 
 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 money will be well spent ; besides, it will be but taking a 
 dose of the doctor's last prescription." 
 
 At nine o'clock on the following Monday morning we 
 were seated in the cars, ready to start for Arenac. There 
 were but few seats occupied, and we arranged our wraps 
 and shawls so as to have as comfortable a time as possible. 
 Just as we had got nicely fixed, two stout countrymen 
 came and sat down in the next seat behind us. They 
 both took out papers and fell to reading. Soon we started. 
 For the first half-hour we were speeding through the 
 suburbs of the city. Then the houses dwindled away, and 
 the open country with the fields and woods slid like a panora- 
 ma past the windows. At first Robert discovered but little 
 of interest outside of the car ; but the sight of the brown 
 fields and bare woods seemed to bring back memories of 
 his boyhood, and he brightened up and manifested more 
 signs of returning health than I had dared to hope for. 
 After a while he became tired of gazing at the scenery, 
 leaned back, and closed his eyes as if to rest, leaving me 
 to my own devices. As for me I was only too happy to see 
 him, as I fondly imagined, already getting better. Just 
 then the two men behind us finished their reading and 
 began to talk. Tbey had evidently never learned the 
 "car-whisper," and I could hear every word. 
 
 " How's business. Jack ? " 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 235 
 
 " Good enough. We' can sell all we can get. The 
 trouble is to get enough to sell." 
 
 "What you selling, mostly?" 
 
 "Meat and sass. It is mighty hard work to get good 
 sass up at Arenac. The farmers won't grow it, and we 
 have to send to the city for all our stuff. Besides, the job- 
 bers ask so much that our people won't pay us enough to 
 make it an object." 
 
 " I found the same trouble at my place. They all want 
 green sass in the spring, but don't want to pay such high 
 prices. However, they will have it any way, and once a 
 week I get up a car-load from town. I don't make any- 
 thing on it. It is pretty well spoiled by the time I get it. 
 I have asked Farmer Brown to raise me some ; but he and 
 all the rest do as their fathers did, and run in the same old 
 rut. Any one who would raise sass for us would make a 
 small fortune in time." 
 
 We reached our destination at noon, and went at once 
 to the hotel. After dinner and a short rest, we started 
 out to inspect the place. We found Arenac to be a man- 
 ufacturing town on the banks of the Hoosensacken. The 
 factories were all on the line of the river, and faced the 
 single street that extended through the town. On the 
 opposite side of the way were the various stores that 
 supplied the material wants of the inhabitants. As we 
 
236 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 passed along the sidewalk, I saw one of the men who sat 
 near us in the cars. He was standing at the door of the 
 market, and seemed quite at home there. We found three 
 hotels, and four churches, and these, together with the 
 factories and dwelling-houses, made up a thriving New 
 England village. A single covered bridge spanned the 
 river near the railroad that crept along under the river- 
 bank. Just over the river a lofty, wooded hill rose like 
 a great wall, and lifted its rocky crags high over all. 
 
 The next morning we obtained the key, and started to 
 walk out and see Uncle Jacob's little piece of property. 
 We soon left the houses behind, and came to the open 
 fields. The day was fair, and the March sun was shining 
 brightly. The scenery, though brown and bare, was lovely. 
 The walking' was good, — and to walk or even live was 
 a pleasure on such a day, — while the pure and bracing 
 air inspired us with a sense of freedom and space to move 
 about in, that was a delight only city-bred people like 
 ourselves could appreciate. After passing several farms, 
 we came to our own little place, as we had already learned 
 to call it, though we never intended to occupy it. The 
 house was quite small, — merely a one-story cottage, of 
 five rooms. Behind the 'house was a small barn. The 
 parcel of land we found to consist of a ploughed field, 
 having thick woods on three sides, but open on the street, 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 237 
 
 or south side. On entering the house we found it neatly 
 but plainly furnished. Uncle Jacob had evidently been a 
 man of refinement, if not of jsvealth. After inspecting 
 everything, we sat down by the warm, sunny window 
 to rest and admire the charming view. On the opposite 
 side of the road, wide-spreading fields extended toward 
 the village, whose tall spires and chimneys peered over 
 the low hill beyond the fields. Beyond the village, 
 Mount Arenac. To the right we could see far down the 
 Hoosensacken valley, till the hills on either side were 
 lost in the blue distance. To the left, thick woods. 
 
 " Charming view, — is it not ? " 
 
 "Yes ; but it must be very lonelj' here." 
 
 " That is true," said I ; " j-et I should enjoy living here 
 during the summer mouths." • 
 
 " And I, too. It would do me a world of good to 
 spend a short time in this breezj'- mountain region." 
 
 "Why not do so? Why not shut up our city house, 
 take a vacation, and stay here until the middle of April? 
 By that time you will be so much better you can return 
 to your desk with renewed strength and health. We can 
 manage to picnic in this box of a house for a few weeks 
 very comfortably. Then, too, we shall escape the raw 
 east winds of the coast. It will do us both good, I am 
 sure. Besides, it will be cheaper living here than at 
 
238 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 home, and the expense is something we have to consider 
 just now." 
 
 Two days after this, ojir trunks were established for 
 bureaus in our new residence, and my dream in a measure 
 came true. 
 
on, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 239 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 FARMING ON PAPER. 
 
 As we intended to return in a short time we brought but 
 little from the city, but used instead the things which we 
 found in the house. Our time we passed in most delightful 
 idleness. "We had come for rest, and to recruit our health 
 and strength ; therefore we took things as easily as possible. 
 "We had but two meals a day, to save trouble. Most of the 
 time we were out walking, or reading when the roads were 
 bad. "We slept a good deal, and did nothing a good deal 
 more. About the twentieth of the month we began to re- 
 cover our old-time health and spirits ; for I found when the 
 excitement of my husband's sickness was over, that I, too, 
 was far from well. It was then I began to wish we could 
 stay here all the time. Turning this over in my mind, I 
 wondered what we could do for a support if we were to re- 
 main. "We could not live in idleness, that was certain. At 
 breakfast one morning, I opened the matter by saying : — 
 
 " "What is sass, Eobert? " 
 
 " Garden sauce, I suppose, — lettuce, beans, etc." 
 
 " Do you remember our first ride up to this place? " 
 
 "Yes; what of it?" 
 
240 FARMING BY INCHES: 
 
 " Did you hear the conversation between the two men who 
 sat behind us in the cars ? Your eyes were closed at the 
 time ; perhaps you were sleeping." 
 
 " No, I was only dozing and heard every word. I have 
 several times thought of what they said, and wondered why 
 no one tried to supply their wants. I am almost tempted 
 to do something of the kind myself; but I suppose we have 
 not land enough." 
 
 "O Eobert! do try it. We have a three-acre field.' Is 
 that not enough to experiment upon ? Do try, please, for six 
 months. Send word to Farwell & Co. that you have decided 
 to give up your place ; doubtless you can command another 
 in the fall. It is of no consequence if we do not make any- 
 thing by the operation. If we pay our way it will be enough. 
 "We can sell out in October, and return to the city with your 
 health established for life." 
 
 " The idea, Harriet ! The idea of our turning ' sass- 
 farmers.' "What could you do — a woman, or I — a book- 
 keeper ? " 
 
 " Do? Why, you can do anything, if you only try. The 
 doctor said a man of your talents would prosper anywhere. 
 As for me, I coul^d help in many waj^s besides keeping the 
 house, picking peas, washing lettuce, or other light work." 
 
 " What a woman you are, Harriet ! With such a wife, a 
 man would succeed iu anything. I shall, I am sure. By 
 
OR, WITU BRAINS, SIR. 241 
 
 the way, see what I found at one of the hotels yester- 
 Oay." 
 
 So saying, he drew forth a small paper-covered book, 
 — " Washburn's Amateur Cultivator's Guide to the Flower 
 and Kitchen Garden." 
 
 " Just what we want," said I. " Fortune favors us slightly, 
 Robert. Come, let us set up for ' sass-farmers ' for a sum- 
 mer." 
 
 " Agreed ! We will farm for a living for six months. 
 Then we will cast our shells, and come out in our original 
 characters as city-folks." 
 
 So far I have told my story as if I were the ruling spirit 
 in the house. My husband's illness threw nearly all the re- 
 sponsibility of our action on me. As his health returned, I 
 gladly gave up the reins, and henceforth this will be more 
 the record of his doings than of mine, or, better, our doings, 
 for in the new farming enterprise we had an equal share. I 
 tried to carry out to the best of my ability the old-fashioned 
 idea of a woman's being a helpmeet to her husband. At 
 first I imagined in my ignorance that I could aid him directly 
 about our little farm ; but I soon found that there was an im- 
 mense deal to be done aside from mere fi.eld-work. My share 
 of the duties ultimately became that of house-keeper and 
 accountant. In this I was fully employed. The house-keep- 
 ing part was easy enough, but keeping accurate accounts of 
 
242 FARMING BY INCHES ; 
 
 our sales and expenditures proved to be no small undertak- 
 ing. After we were well under way hardly a day passed 
 without its moneyed transaction to be attended to in detail. 
 One day there would be a quantity of strawberries to be sent 
 off, the bills made out, and the boxes accounted for ; another 
 day a wagon load of vegetables had to be counted, de- 
 spatched, and properly accounted for on the return of the 
 empty wagon. Perhaps you wonder why my husband did 
 not see to this himself, he being a skilled accountant. It is 
 true he could have done so ; but every hour spent on work I 
 could do as well was an hour lost on work I could not do at 
 all. 
 
 Having fully made up our minds to try our hands at the 
 business of farming, we resolved that all things should be 
 conducted in the most systematic order. We would bring 
 our methodical and mercantile ways of doing things into a 
 business notoriously loose and inaccurate in its operations. 
 Manifestly the first thing to be done was to draw up on 
 paper some ■ sort of a plan of what we proposed to do, and 
 then endeavor to carry it out as nearly as may be. , 
 
 After breakfast Robert walked to the village and procured 
 the deed of our estate. Therein we found ourselves posses- 
 sors of a certain parcel of laud, bounded on the east by a 
 line commencing on the county road at a stone post next 
 adjoining the estate of Widow Comfort Jones, and running 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 243 
 
 northerly three hundred and sixty-three feet, to the estate of 
 Justin Stamford ; thence westerly three hundred and forty-five 
 feet, to the estate of Isaac Kempenfielder ; thence southerly 
 three hundred and sixty-three feet, to the county-road ; thence 
 easterly along said road to the first-named point, — the total 
 area being one hundred and thirty-two thousand square feet, 
 a little more than three acres. From this must be taken the 
 land occupied by the buildings and the narrow strip of 
 woods on the north and west sides. The woods on the east 
 belonged to Mrs. Jones, " Widow Comfort," as she was 
 called. After studying this over we walked out to inspect. 
 It seemed very small on paper ; but when we had walked over 
 the frozen ground all around the bounds, we came to the 
 conclusion that our little farm was quite an extensive affair 
 when measured by feet and inches. At any rate, to go all 
 round it was something of a walk. Little as we knew about 
 such things we could not fail to see that, for our purposes, no 
 place could be more favorably located. It was open to the 
 sun all day, while the woods formed a shelter from the most 
 troublesome winds. When we returned from our walk 
 Eobert got out writing materials, and, drawing a table up to 
 the window, began to write, while I took my sewing and sat 
 by his side, where I could look out far down the river-valley, 
 and watch the shadows chasing each other over the distant 
 hills. Presently Robert turned to me and said : — 
 
244 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 " See, Harriet, here is a list of books on the subject of 
 farming. I made it up from the last page of "Washburn & 
 Co.'s catalogue. I am going to the city this afternoon, and 
 shall be gone two days. I shall get these books, and send 
 them to you by mail to-night. While I am gone you can 
 amuse yourself by looking them over, and finding out what 
 there is in them that will be of use to us. We must follow 
 the example of the students, and ' cram for a profession.' " 
 
 " Books, — I was thinking of them," said I ; " but what 
 is going to detain you in town so long ? " 
 
 " Why, you see, if we really intend to turn farmers, the 
 sooner we begin the better, and the sooner we cut all con- 
 nection with the city the quicker we can commence. Here 
 is a list of what furniture we shall need while here ; the 
 rest I propose to sell. I shall then pay all our bills, give 
 up our house on Columbia Avenue, and dissolve my con- 
 nection with Farwell & Co. Do you approve ? " 
 
 " Yes, I like most of it. I approve of all your plans save 
 the idea of leaving me here alone while you are gone. Why 
 cannot I accompany you ? " 
 
 " There is no reason why you cannot. But I thought to 
 save you all trouble, and the pain of parting from our first 
 home, besides the fatigue of the journey." 
 
 " I can bear the fatigue as well as you ; and what if you 
 should be taken ill, and I not near you ? You are not yet a 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 245 
 
 giant, sir, if you have lived in the country ten whole 
 days." 
 
 At six o'clock that evening we were set down in the 
 city. The street lamps were lighted, and as we went up 
 town in a crowded horse-car, we could not fail to notice the 
 difference between the sunny, quiet place we had left, and 
 the dark, narrow, and noisy streets that hitherto we had 
 thought perfection in their way. 
 
 The two following days were busy ones indeed. Finally, 
 everything was accomplished, «and we took our final depart- 
 ure from the city, bidding farewell, not without a pang, to 
 our city friends and neighbors. They all thought our move 
 a good one as a sanitary measure, but intellectually and 
 socially — doubtful ; financially — very doubtful. How far 
 they were right in this, my story must unfold. That even- 
 ing we lighted our new centre-table lamp, and sat down 
 by ourselves in our own house, with thankful, hopeful 
 hearts, and at peace with all the world. Every bill had 
 been paid. "We were under our own roof-tree, humble as it 
 was, and about to embark upon a new enterprise, in which 
 we could both have an equal share, and be to each other true 
 helpers. 
 
 " Now, Harriet, let us draw up some sort of a plan of 
 what we intend to do this summer. The first thing to be 
 considered is finance. "We have a house to live in, rent 
 
246 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 free. This furniture, together with that which is on the 
 way to us, is sufficient for the summer. Our trunks contain 
 enough for all our wants as far as clothing is concerned. 
 The question now is, how much money must we have to 
 support ourselves from now till the first of October ? How 
 much will it cost per month?" 
 
 " About seventy dollars," said I. " But shall we not 
 receive a large part of our support from the farm? Will 
 not the land contribute to our table ? " 
 
 " Doubtless ; but let us ' err on the safe side,' and go on 
 the supposition that our farm is not going to pay anything. 
 Then if it does not we shall not be disappointed, nor shall 
 we suffer for want of a support. Seventy dollars a month 
 for six months would amount to four hundred and twenty 
 dollars. I propose to have this sum laid one side for this 
 purpose. B}^ so doing we can return to the city in the fall 
 clear of debt, even though our farming speculation should 
 prove a total failure. If the land does contribute to our 
 dining-table, we will credit the farm with the value of the 
 things so used." 
 
 " Why, Robert, you are going into farming like a banker. 
 Do 5^ou propose to have a counting-room attached to the 
 place, and to have huge ledgers wherein are entered every 
 little item of receipt and expenditure, after the manner of 
 Farwell &Co.?" 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 247 
 
 " Not exactly ; but I do propose to apply mercantile pre- 
 cision to the pursuit of farming. See what a help it will be 
 to us. If we make anything out of it, our books will show 
 how to do it again ; if we lose money, they will show us 
 wherein we failed." 
 
 " I admit the advantage of all this ; but will not the keep- 
 ing of these accounts require a great deal of time and 
 labor?" 
 
 " In the aggregate it will. Taking it up every day, and 
 squaring the accounts each night, will reduce it to a very 
 trifling aifair. According to Uncle Jacob's will we have in 
 the Arenac Savings Bank the sum of seven hundred and 
 fifty dollars. The sale of our things in town, after paying 
 our bills, produced two hundred dollars. Our own savings 
 added to this make our available cash capital up to eleven 
 hundred dollars. Taking from this, four hundred and 
 twenty dollars for our support, we shall have remaining six 
 hundred and eighty dollars for a working capital. Now, 
 what shall we do with it in order to get the largest possible 
 return? Let us consult our first agricultural friend, Wash- 
 burn. Let us open the book at random, and see what we 
 find." 
 
 So saying, Robert opened the book hap-hazard, and said, 
 " Lettuce." 
 
 " Just the thing," said I. " Lettuce is classed as ' sass,* 
 
248 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 and doubtless will sell well. Shall we put that down for one 
 of our crops ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and having decided to try lettuce we must read up 
 on the subject. Washburn says of it : — 
 
 " ' The lettuce is generally divided into two classes, namely, 
 cabbage lettuces and cos lettuces. The cabbage have round 
 heads and broad-spreading leaves ; the cos varieties have 
 long h'eads and upright, oblong leaves. 
 
 " ^Culture. — A very rich soil is necessary to produce fine 
 head lettuce. Its crisp and tender quality depends very 
 much on a luxuriant and vigorous growth. The earliest 
 sowing may be made in February or March, under glass 
 with slight heat. Keep the plants thin, and admit plenty 
 of air to the frame every fine day. For later supplies, sow 
 in the open ground as soon as the season will permit ; trans- 
 plant, or thin out the plants gradually to a foot apart, and 
 keep well cultivated. The cos lettuces are excellent, if 
 grown early in the spring, but run to seed quickly in hot 
 weather. The large cabbage kinds are best, and most suit- 
 able for summer crops. 
 
 " ' Early-curled Silesia. — Standard sort ; very early ; the 
 best for-forcing and the first spring sowing ; makes a loose 
 head ; tender, and of excellent flavor. 
 
 " ' Early Tennishall. — One of the oldest and most esteemed 
 of the cabbage lettuce. The *h,^d is below medium size ; 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 249 
 
 dark-green ; very solid if grown in cool weather ; one of the 
 earliest and best.' 
 
 " And so on, for twenty or more sorts. All this is doubt- 
 less very fine, but I doubt if either you or I can understand 
 it all. Wonder what a frame is ? " 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know. The only frame I ever saw was 
 a bonnet-frame." 
 
 Robert suddenly got up and went to the next room. If 
 I had not known him well, I should have imagined he was 
 offended at my levity. In a moment he returned, bringing 
 two large books, which he laid on the table, saying : — 
 
 " I bought these yesterday. They cost a good deal, but 
 as tools in our business they will prove invaluable. ' The 
 American Gardener's Calendar,' by Bernard McMahon, 
 and ' The Field and Garden Vegetables of America,' by 
 Fearing Burr, Jr. You take one ; I'll take the other, and 
 we will read up on lettuce." 
 
 For the next half hour nothing was heard in the room 
 save the slow turning of the leaves. Suddenly Robert shut 
 his book with a slam, gave a low whistle, and said : — 
 
 " Goodness ! What a tremendous thing lettuce is ! I 
 have read twenty-six pages on the subject, and am almost in 
 a muddle over it." 
 
 " And my author refers to it on thirteen different pages. 
 How shall we ever master the subject?" 
 
250 FARMING BY INCHES J 
 
 "By perseverance and common sense. I am going to 
 order some seed of Washburn this very night." Then he 
 began to write a letter. While writing he weitt on talking. 
 — "As far as I can understand the matter, lettuce seems 
 to be something that can be forced ; by that I suppose they 
 mean it can be forced, or compelled, to grow in advance of 
 the regular season by artificial means, such as shelter, etc. 
 I cannot now tell how this is accomplished, but I have no 
 doubt we can invent some method if we put our minds to it 
 At any rate we will try." 
 
 The next morning the remainder of our furniture arrived 
 from the city, and nearly the whole day was taken up in 
 setting our new home in order. At nightfall we again sat 
 down to our reading. To tell the ti'uth, we were both fas- 
 cinated with the books. Though we could not understand 
 all they had to say, yet we found it a novel and pleasing 
 sensation to read and talk about the real, tangible things of 
 which they treated. We discussed lettuce far into the night. 
 
 I was awakened early the next morning by a great pound- 
 ing in our barn. Hastily dressing, I went down to see what 
 was going on. I found my husband had turned carpenter, and 
 was busy with saw, hammer, and boards, making a huge box. 
 
 " What are you making, Robert? " 
 
 " A hot-bed frame. I made a lucky find this morning. 
 In the barn chamber I discovered three sashes. I knew 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 251 
 
 what they were at once, and am going to make a frame to 
 sow our lettuce-seed in." 
 
 " What a man you are, Robert ! Where did you learn to 
 be a carpenter, and who told you liow to make a frame?" 
 
 " Taught myself— ' Washbui-n.' " Then with a few fin- 
 ishing raps with the hammer, he stopped and said, "Come, 
 let us have breakfast. I am as hungry as several bears." 
 
 " I am glad of it. It is a good sign, and shows that the 
 doctor's prescription is beginning to work." 
 
 As we entered the house I glanced at the clock. " See, 
 Robert," said I, "it is not yet six, and here we both are 
 ready for breakfast. Such a wonderful thing never hap- 
 pened before." 
 
 After breakfast my husband took his hat and coat, and 
 bade me good-morning, saying, " I am going to the village 
 to procure some tools." 
 
 In about an hour I was startled by the sound of wheels 
 in our yard. Looking out of the window I discovered Rob- 
 ert seated in an old hay-cart, and by his side a tall, elderly 
 man, with iron-gray hair, blue eyes, and a face expressive of 
 good-nature and good sense. As the team drew up at the 
 door, I went out to meet them. 
 
 " My wife, Mr. Kempenfielder. Harriet, this is one of 
 our near neighbors. I met him at the market, and he very 
 kindly brought me and my luggage home in his hay-cart." 
 
252 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 " Glad to see j'ou, .ma'am," said Mr. Kempenfielder, ad- 
 vancing and offering his huge, bony hand. I almost 
 laughed when I took it, for I could not grasp such a digital 
 immensity. He shook mj'' hand, and at once I felt a new 
 sensation. It was not like any in my experience. It was 
 a hand-grasp expressive of honest, hearty, good-natured wel- 
 come. Not a " society" hand-shake. 
 
 "Glad to see you, ma'am. You're welcome to Arenac, 
 I'm sure. Mary — she's mj' wife — was a-saying the other day 
 she kinder wished some one would locate here. Old Jacob, 
 he that lived here before, was a quiet man, and wan't very 
 neighborly. He's your uncle maybe. Yes, I thought he 
 was. Well, I'm glad you have come. Come over and see 
 us when you get fixed. My folks will be mighty glad to see 
 you. Hello ! there, let me help you ; " and away he went 
 towards the hay-cart from which Robert was trying to lift a 
 large sack full of potatoes. 
 
 "You aint very strong, are you? You look kinder 
 peaked any way. Guess country living will build you 
 up, soon." 
 
 So saying, he took the sack from the team easilj'- enough. 
 I could not fail to notice the man's great strength and 
 Robert's weakness. Yet it did not disturb me. One 
 was a farmer, the other a broken-down book-keeper. 
 Which is the better man in other respects remains to 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 253 
 
 be seen. Depositing the bag of potatoes on the ground, 
 he then took several garden tools, rakes, shovels, etc., 
 from the cart, and carefully placed them on the doorstep. 
 
 " Nice tools, those. Looks as if you meant to garden 
 some." 
 
 "Just what we propose to do," said Robert. "We 
 intend to run this small farm this summer." 
 
 "Do you though? Well, you are plucky. It's more'n 
 I'd do, and I have farmed it for nigh on to forty years. 
 You couldn't raise wheat enough on that to keep a man 
 busy." 
 
 "We don't propose to raise wheat at all." 
 
 "Don't you though? Corn, per'aps?" 
 
 " No, we shall not attempt any heavy crops." 
 
 "What will you raise, — pigs?" 
 
 "We hardly know as yet, — not pigs, certainly. We 
 may try lettuce." 
 
 " Lettuce ! Raise lettuce ! Well, I wish you joy in your 
 undertaking." 
 
 So saying, he began to cl1?tab into his hay-cart. As 
 he started off, he said he was glad to have us for neigh- 
 bors, but guessed we had a tough road before us. 
 
 "Encouraging, — is it not?" said I, rather soberly. 
 
 "Yes — very — "said Robert, slowly; "but then if we 
 
254 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 change our plans every time an}' one frowns upon tliem, 
 we shall not get along very fast." 
 
 By noon that day Robert had placed his new hot-bed 
 frame in a sheltered spot on the sunny side of the barn, 
 and had placed the three glass sashes over it. As I went 
 out to call him to dinner, I glanced into the frame, and 
 found it nearly full of broken lumps of frozen soil. The 
 sun shining through the glass was rapidly thawing and 
 crumbling them to pieces. 
 
 "What are you trying to do, Robert?" 
 
 "Trying to thaw out a part of our- farm. I placed 
 those bits of frozen soil under the glass, and guessed they 
 would soon melt. I have guessed right, it seems. By to- 
 morrow I think we shall have some nice dry soil to sow 
 our seeds in. But come, let us dine. After that we 
 will go at our books again, and see if we can find out how 
 many lettuce-plants we can raise. From all I gathered 
 in the village this morning, I guess we can sell all we 
 can produce." 
 
 This excited my curiosity, and as soon as we were 
 fairly seated at the table, I asked for further information. 
 
 "The story is just^this. I asked the man at the mar- 
 ket if he ever bought lettuce in the spring. Yes, he did, 
 large quantities. He could sell more if he was not obliged 
 to transport it so far. This was too indefinite for me, 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 255 
 
 SO I asked what he meant by large quantities. ' Many- 
 dozens a day,' said he, and then he repeated his remark 
 about the difficulty of obtaining it preventing still larger 
 sales. As he seemed busy, I did not trouble him with 
 further questions. Now, Harriet, let us rake up the little 
 we do know about lettuce, and see what we can figure 
 out of it. Do you remember what we used to pay for 
 lettuce last spring ? " 
 
 "About eight or ten cents." 
 
 " Well, if we paid, as consumers, eight cents, the pro- 
 vision store must have taken three cents for their profit, 
 and the down-town ' Jobber ' got three or more cents for 
 his share, so that the grower only received about two 
 cents per head. That seems a very small price ; but let 
 us reckon up what the grower could do with it as a crop." 
 
 Here my husband stopped suddenly, took out pencil 
 and paper, and became deeply absorbed in some calcula- 
 tions. In a moment or so he looked up and said, "Ac- 
 cording to the books, lettuce must be planted one foot 
 apart each way. Now, if I am not mistaken, one acre 
 filled with plants one foot apart would contain forty-three 
 thousand five hundred and sixty plants." 
 
 "Forty-three thousand plants? Goodness, Robert! 
 How could we ever take care of such an immense number ? " 
 
 Paying no attention to my remark he went on : " Forty- 
 
256 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 three thousand five hundred and sixty plants, at one cent 
 each, would amount to four hundred and thirty-five dol- 
 lars and sixty cents." Here he stopped abruptly, and 
 began studying his figures again. As for me, I found 
 something very interesting at the bottom of my tumbler. 
 
 " How much did you say it would cost us to live this 
 summer, Harriet ? " 
 
 " Four hundred and twenty dollars." 
 
 " Good. If we can raise an acre or more of lettuce, 
 the question of our support for the next six months is 
 nearly settled." 
 
 "Yes, if we can; but you must remember, so far we 
 ■have been farming only on paper." 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 257 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE BEST FERTILIZER BRAINS. 
 
 After dinner Robert went out to look at his new frames, 
 while I began to clear away the table. Before I had Dn- 
 ished, he returned, bringing in a large sheet of rusty iron, 
 on which was a pile of wet soil. This he gravely placed 
 on the kitchen stove. 
 
 "What are you about, Robert?" 
 
 "About to apply caloric to a piece of our farm. The 
 soil in the frames has melted, but is still too cold and 
 wet, I fancy, to plant seeds in. I found this bit of Russia- 
 iron, and I am going to bake some of the soil on it until 
 it is fit for use." 
 
 "Shall we have baked-farm for supper?" asked I, 
 demurely. 
 
 "Yes, in time, — that is, we may have the final result 
 of the baking for dinner or supper." 
 
 " But you have not soil enough there to fill a tenth part 
 of the frames." ■" 
 
 " I know it, my dear. I have a better idea than that. 
 Wait a bit." 
 
 So saying, he went out leaving the pan of damp soil 
 
258 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 on the stove. Presently, he returned, bringing an old 
 raisin-box, some strawberry-boxes, and two or three 
 cracked flower-pots. These he put down near the stove, 
 and getting a seat and a book, drew himself close to the 
 fire and began to read. The sight to me was simply 
 funny. 
 
 "A pretty farmer you make, Eobert! Toasting your 
 toes and your farm there by the fire." 
 
 He never answered a word. 
 
 Looking out of the window soon after, I observed a 
 huge four-horse wagon turning into our yard. 
 
 "Why, Robert, what is all this? What are these peo- 
 ple bringing in here?" 
 
 "Manure, I suppose. I bought a large lot this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 Whereupon he took his hat and went out. In about 
 half an hour I heard the empty wagon drive away, 
 and my husband returned to his reading. The pile of 
 soil had by this time begun to throw off a cloud of steam, 
 and, drying rapidly, changed color from a disagreeable 
 black to a rich, deep brown. Eobert then tooli the 
 boxes and pots and filled them all full from the heap of 
 baked soil. This done, he placed them on the floor 
 behind the stove and out of harm's way. Taking from 
 his pocket a small package marked, " Seeds only," that 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 259 
 
 had evidently come through the post-office, and opening 
 it, he took out a quantity of small white seeds and care- 
 fully sprinkled them over the surface of the warm soil 
 in the boxes and pots, and finished all by covering them 
 carefully with more soil from the heap on the stove. 
 Then throwing old newspapers over it, he stood contem- 
 plating his work. Suddenly, however, he started as if 
 he had forgotten something. 
 
 "Oh! we must water them; but how shall we do it?" 
 " Take them to the sink and shake a wet brush over 
 them," said I. 
 
 " A good idea, Harriet, seeing we have no watering-pot." 
 In a few moments this was done, and the pots and 
 boxes were replaced on the floor with the papers over them. 
 The next day was Sunday. At the ringing of the sec- 
 ond bell we stepped from our door into the warm and 
 cheerful sunshine to walk to the village, proposing to 
 attend one of its churches. We found the road filled 
 with people, some walking and some riding, and all wend- 
 ing their way toward the village. Being city people, we 
 walked rapidly at our usual sidewalk pace, and passed 
 every one on the road. Soon we overtook a well-dressed 
 lady walking soberly along by herself. As we came up 
 with her, we ventured to speak* to her. 
 
 " Can you tell us, madam, which is the Unitarian Church ? " 
 
260 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 " I can. It is the brown one with the tall steeple. I 
 am going there myself, and will show you the way." 
 
 Thereupon we slackened our pace to keep in her company. 
 
 " It is a fine day, is it not ? " 
 
 " Yes, the Lord adorns and gladdens his temple to-day. 
 He delights to make it beavitiful ; but then, creation, his 
 house, is always lovely. How fine the old mountain looks 
 to-day, such charming light and shade ! " 
 
 Not quite knowing what to make of this, I merely said, 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Do you not admire the true and beautiful in nature ? " 
 continued our companion, turning upon us a face full of 
 intelligence, serenity, and refinement. 
 
 " Yes," said my husband ; " we do indeed. How can we 
 help it with so much beauty spread around us this quiet 
 Sabbath day?" 
 
 We had now reached the church-door, and our guide, 
 whoever she was, passed in before us. Before she left us, 
 however, she turned to say, " My own pew, unfortu- 
 nately, is quite full to-day, or I would take you to it. But 
 the sexton will, no doubt, find you seats. There he stands 
 near the side-door. Good-morning." 
 
 " What a singular woman, Eobert ! " 
 
 " I hardly think that she- belongs hereabouts.'* 
 
 "How so?" 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 261 
 
 " They told us, you know, we should find only boors in 
 the country." 
 
 " They said so, to be sure ; but it strikes me they knew 
 nothing about it." 
 
 On our return from church, after service, we again over- 
 took our friend just before reaching our own gate. She 
 bowed and smiled, and we returned the salute as gracefully 
 as we could. 
 
 " You must be the young people who have moved into the 
 Nelson house ? " 
 
 " Yes ; we have come to spend the summer here for the 
 benefit of our health." 
 
 " You could not do a wiser thing. "Free air and sunshine 
 are cheap but wonderful remedies for every ill, mental or 
 bodily." 
 
 " Do you live near us, may we inquire? " 
 
 " Yes, I am your next neighbor. Comfort, — Comfort 
 Jones is my name." 
 
 " I am quite pleased to know it," said my husband, ex- 
 tending his hand. " Let us hope to see more of you, Mrs. 
 Jones." 
 
 " Thank you, sir. But you must remember, I am an old 
 and very quiet person. I do not venture out much, and am 
 simple and plain in all my ways ; not in the least like the 
 gay people you have left in the city." 
 
262 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 " Quiet simplicity is what we desire, madam. My wife 
 and I Ivnow how to appreciate it, I assure you." 
 
 "Indeed we do," said I. " None are more simple in their 
 tastes than we." 
 
 In truth, this sweet-faced, self-possessed old lady quite 
 charmed me. 
 
 " I hope we shall see more of you, Mrs. Jones." 
 
 " You shall ; " and she bade us good-morning and disap- 
 peared in the woods. 
 
 We had a very early breakfast the next morning, as Rob- 
 ert said he had a great deal of work on hand. Breakfast over, 
 he put on stout leather boots and a suit of old clothes, and 
 went out to meet two laboring men who arrived from 
 the village at seven o'clock. I saw no more of him till 
 twelve, when he came in to dinner. We had changed our 
 dinner-time since removing to Arenac, and dined at the un- 
 romantic hour of noon. This we found divided our day 
 much more evenly than one or two o'clock. Indeed, one of 
 the first surprises of our country life was the extraordinary 
 length of the days. In town we breakfasted at eight, and 
 had tea at six ; but now the daylight seemed to be several 
 hours longer, and an earlier breakfast and later tea required 
 our dinner to come at noon. After dinner Robert brought 
 a large quantity of potatoes into the kitchen, saying, as he 
 did so : — 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 263 
 
 " Can you not help me a little, Harriet? " 
 
 " With pleasure." 
 
 "I want these potatoes cut, so that I can plant them." 
 
 " Plant them ? How can you ? The ground is still frozen 
 hard." 
 
 Without a word he went to the next room, and procur- 
 ing a book opened it and pointed out a paragraph. I read it. 
 
 " So you intend to force potatoes." 
 
 " I mean to try something of the kind. I have no hot- 
 bed ; but as it is nearly April, I am going to attempt 
 'forcing' by the aid of the sun alone." 
 
 "But can you do it?" 
 
 " I don't know. I can try it, and find out." 
 
 " A good idea," said I, seizing a potato, and preparing to 
 cut it in two. 
 
 " "Wait a bit. We don't know how to cut our potatoes 
 yet. Let us see what the books say on the subject." 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 Then my husband read, as follows : — 
 
 " ' Cut each root into two, three, or more pieces, according 
 to the size, minding, particularly, that each piece be fur- 
 nished with one or more buds or eyes.' " 
 
 In an hour I returned to my sewing, having finished the 
 potatoes. During the greater part of the day, heavy teams, 
 loaded with manure, had been toiling through our gate and 
 
264 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 out upon the open field behind the house. After supper, I 
 asked Robert what he proposed to do with so much 
 material. 
 
 " Spread it on the land, and have it ploughed in as soon 
 as the spring opens." 
 
 " But will it not be a very expensive operation? " 
 
 " To be sure. But, then, ' Nothing venture, nothing 
 have.' I expect to spend three hundred dollars in manure 
 alone." 
 
 "Three hundred dollars? Why, that is nearly half of 
 our whole capital ! " 
 
 "I know, my dear. But,, without this expenditure, we 
 can effect little or nothing." 
 
 " That may be true, but how are we to buy horses, 
 ploughs, cultivators, carts, and all else to work with, if the 
 manure costs so much ? " 
 
 " I propose to do without them. "We may come to own 
 a horse by and by ; but it will not be for our farm-work." 
 
 "How, then, do you propose to cultivate your crops?" 
 
 "By hand. You remember our trip to New York?" 
 
 "Remember it! Shall we ever forget it? It was 
 our — " 
 
 " And do 3^ou recollect standing on the deck of the 
 steamer, as we swept toward Hurl-Gate, in East River." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 265 
 
 " "Well, you know I pointed out to you on the shore, near 
 the outer limits of the city, one of those little half-acre 
 iQarket-gardens, filled solid with growing crops, the plants 
 standing so closely together that they fairly touched each 
 other, and hid the very ground from sight?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes. And how beautiful they were with their 
 squares of different shades of green ! And, do you remem- 
 ber, sir, the headache you had soon after, and how I had to 
 play nurse for the first time in my life ? " 
 
 " Indeed, I do. And a charming headache it was, or, 
 rather, nursing, I forget which. Now, I hope to conduct 
 our little farm as those Dutchmen do their gardens. I 
 mean to pack our crops so thickly on the land that there 
 will be no room for horse or plough. In short, my plan is 
 to ' farm by inches, and by hand.'" 
 
 When I came downstairs the next morning, I found my 
 husband very intently studying the boxes and pots of seeds 
 which he had placed behind the stove, and, on looking at 
 them, I found them covered witli myriads of small green 
 plants just thrusting themselves through the soil. 
 
 " See, Hattie, what heat, moisture, and darkness have 
 done. They have forced these seeds to germinate in three 
 days. But now we must move them into the light and air, 
 or we shall soon lose them." Upon which he took them all 
 up, and placed them near the window, in the sun, saying, 
 
266 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 " After breakfast, I must move them to the frames in tlie 
 yard." 
 
 "Well, Robert, pray tell me how it happens that you 
 know so much about such things. When and where did 
 you study botany?" 
 
 " I will answer your question by asking you another. 
 I graduated at Harvard, did I not?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well, that will account for everything." 
 
 After breakfast, the plants were removed to the now dry 
 and warm frames. The soil in them had been worked over 
 and raked smooth, and looked very fine and nice. The 
 boxes of seeds were placed on the soil, under the glass, and 
 in one of the empty frames. Robert now proceeded to plant 
 the potatoes I had cut up the day before. Opening a nar- 
 row trench with his hand, he packed the bits of potato, cut-- 
 side down, as thickly as they could stand, just like herring 
 in a box, then another row, and so on. When it was 
 finished, the soil was smoothed over them, and they were 
 plentifully watered from a watering-pot Robert had bought 
 for the purpose. There were thirty-five rows, and eighteen 
 in a row, making in all seven hundred and thirty " sets," 
 as the books called them. The few potatoes that remained 
 were carefully washed and — eaten. 
 
 By this time the weather had become warmer, and the 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 267 
 
 frost was out of the ground. The next clay, the third of 
 April, was so mild and pleasant that I went out after 
 breakfast to see what was going on. I found the entire field 
 behind the house dotted over with small black heaps of 
 manure, and two men at work spreading it thickly over the 
 ground. Seeing Robert over by the woods with a yoke 
 of oxen and a man holdfng a plough, I went toward them 
 to watch their operations. Before going many steps I dis- 
 covered the whole team approaching me. Taking a good 
 stand I waited to witness the procession. First came a 
 pair of sturdy oxen ; then Robert, glorious in big boots and 
 a mighty whip ; next a huge plough tearing its way through 
 the soil ; and lastly, Mr. Kempenfielder. Immensely enter- 
 tained with the performance, I took out my handkerchief 
 and cheered them on. They never took the slightest notice 
 of me (at least Mr. K. and the oxen did not) , but went sail- 
 ing away and left me alone in the middle of the field. I put 
 up my handkerchief, and started for home. But seeing theuj 
 soon at a stop, I tinrned toward them. 
 
 " "Well, Robert Nelson, I never expected to see you 
 driving a pair of oxen." 
 
 " No more did I. It is my first attempt. Mr. Kempen- 
 fielder showed me how to drive them, and there you see 
 the result." 
 
268 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 " The straightest furrow I ever seen drawed," said Farmer 
 K. " I don't see how he did it." 
 
 "My army experience taught me that. When I was 
 Sergeant of Co. 'F,' 190th Mass., I very quickly learned 
 to draw a straight line across an open field by simply ' al- 
 ligning ' two distant objects." Taking out his watch Robert 
 looked at it and exclaimed, " Why, it's ten o'clock ! I had 
 no idea the sun was so high. Please, Hattie, go and look 
 at the lettuce-plants. If the thermometer in the frame 
 stands at 70'', or higher, lift up the back of the sash, and 
 put a stone or something else under it to let the surplus 
 heat out." 
 
 On going to the frame, I found the glass covered with 
 steam. Looking at the thermometer I found it at 90°, while 
 the plants seemed to be beaded with dew. Lifting up the 
 back of the sash I propped it up about an inch with a bit 
 of stick. Opening the sash where the potatoes were I found 
 everything steaming hot ; but as Robert had said nothing about 
 opening it, I let it remain as it was, and went into the 
 house. At noon Robert came in and said 1 should have 
 aired the potatoes. The heat had wilted them badly. So 
 much for ignorance. He also said I must go out at about 
 four o'clock, and let the sash down again to shut the heat 
 in for the night ; which I accordingly did. 
 
 At six o'clock I went out to call my husband in to sup- 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 269 
 
 per. I found him near the barn talking with Mr. Kempen- 
 fielder, who was .preparing to go home after his day's 
 work. 
 
 " It's a mighty heavy dressing you have put on your 
 land, Mr. Nelson. I never seen the like in my life. It 
 must have cost you a sight of money." 
 
 " It was a costly operation. But an extra heavy dress- 
 ing will give an extra heavy return, I suppose. At any 
 rate, it will not be my fault if the land does not yield her 
 increase. In addition to all this barn-manure I shall put 
 on about a hundred dollars' .worth of superphosphates, 
 lime, ground bone, and guaiio." 
 
 " A hundred dollars' worth ! why, man, you're crazy. 
 Who ever heard of such a thing ? " 
 
 " I have, — or, rather, I have read of it in the papers. I 
 think I have seen somewhere that the gardeners around 
 New York sometimes put six hundred dollars' worth of 
 fertilizers on one acre of their land." 
 
 " Perhaps they do. Them that has money can afford to 
 throw it away in that fashion." 
 
 " I cannot positively say whether they can afford it or 
 not. But I do know they keep throwing it away year after 
 year, and I don't imagine they do it for amuse- 
 ment." 
 
 " I have heard tell of them fellows ; but I don't believe 
 
270 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 iBoi'n half that's told of 'em. One of them came and settled 
 round here a few years ago and tried sass-raising, just as 
 you proposed ; but, then, he was a poor shote of a fellow, and 
 his farm soon drank him up, or he it, I don't remem- 
 ber exactly which. Besides you have a kind of manure 
 which he did not have. He used plenty of the barn-stuff, 
 but you seem to use more yet, and in addition put on to 
 your land a better manure still, — brains." 
 
. OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 271 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 SEED-TIME. 
 
 Two days after tliis Mr. Kempenfielder had completed 
 the ploughing and harrowing, and he and the laborers went 
 away. In their stead Robert hired a lad from the village to 
 work for us during the summer. He found a boarding 
 place near by, and was to be employed on our farm all and 
 every day, Sundays excepted. After tea, on the day the 
 ploughing was finished, we walked out to inspect, and to 
 make up our minds where we should place our various crops. 
 Our land consisted of a single unbroken field, with the 
 house and barn placed near the road in the centre. Directly 
 through the centre a path or road-way had been laid out 
 from the barn to the woods in the rear. This gave easy 
 access to all parts of the place without wasting much space. 
 All the remainder of the land had been thickly spread with 
 manure and ploughed one way. Then it had been cross- 
 ploughed in the opposite direction, and after being har- 
 rowed again and again the soil was reduced to a fine 
 level surface. Little as we knew of such matters we could 
 not fail to notice the thorough manner in which the work 
 had been done. 
 
272 FARMING BY INCHES;* 
 
 " What other crops than potatoes do you intend to 
 plant?" 
 
 "I hardly know as yet. "We must consult Washburn & 
 Co., and the books. I have thought a good deal about it 
 the past two days, and have been tempted to write to Wash- 
 burn & Co. for advice. For my own part I have no prefer- 
 ence. Our only object is to raise such crops as will give us 
 the greatest money return. If it pays best to raise radishes, 
 we will do so. If we find rdore money in striiig-beans, we 
 will establish a monster beanery at once." 
 
 " For my part, I think it would be best to consult the 
 market-man. You hope to sell your crops to him, and he 
 can tell just what is most in demand." 
 
 " Good ! Harriet ! I'll go down and see him to-night, so 
 that we can order the seeds by to-morrow morning's mail. 
 Despatch is the word, — I'll go at once." 
 
 So saying, he went toward the house, and I saw no more of 
 him until nine o'clock. The order for the seeds was written 
 and duly mailed early the next day. Soon after breakfast it 
 U began to rain. As little or nothing could be done out-of-doors, 
 Eobert set our new boy — Jack by name — to work cleaning 
 up the barn, and on returning to the house we both gave our- 
 selves up to the study of our books. Reading and talking 
 about our new profession filled up the entire morning. After 
 dinner we again went at the books, and among other things 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR; 273 
 
 we came' to the subject of transplanting, or removing grow- 
 ing plants from one plact to another. 
 
 " Must not those lettuce-plants be transplanted by and by ? " 
 
 " Yes ; they will have to be transplanted twice, if we may 
 believe the books. Once into the frames, and after that from 
 the frames to the ground. This would be a good day to do 
 it. I wonder if I had better not do it this afternoon. We 
 may not have another cloudy day for some time." 
 
 " What ! go out in all this rain?" 
 
 " To be sure. Why not? I can put on an old suit that 
 the rain Avill not injure." 
 
 *' It is not for the clothes I fear, but for you. The only re- 
 sult will be a severe cold, and perhaps a return of your illness." 
 
 " I do not fear that in the least. I will dress warm and 
 not stay out long. If I feel the slightest chill I will come 
 in at once." 
 
 Thereupon he put on an old hat and coat and went out 
 to get Jack to help him. As for me I was very uneasy 
 at the whole proceeding ; but my fears were groundless it 
 afterwards pi'oved. A short time after this I went to the 
 kitchen window to see if they had yet finished their under- 
 taking, and I saw my husband and Jack gravely planting out 
 the lettuce, and the rain pouring from their clothes in little 
 streams. Vexed at Robert's foolhardiness, I rapped on the 
 window and beckoned to him to come in. All the reply I 
 
274 ' FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 got was a very wet smile and shake of the head. Quite pro- 
 voked at what seemed mere folly, I returned to the dining- 
 room and sat down in no pleasant frame of mind. Soon 
 after I heard him come in and go upstairs. In a few mo- 
 ments he came down fresh, cheerful, and dry. 
 
 " No harm as yet, Hattie. Nor do I fear any. We 
 planted both frames nearly full. We put them one incli 
 apart each way, which gives us about three thousand five 
 hundred plants. It took only a small portion of our plants. 
 We have several thousand more in the boxes and pots." 
 
 To my surprise, no harm ever came of this venturesome pro- 
 ceeding. In time I learned to see my husband go out in all 
 weather with complacency. Rain or shine, it made no dif- 
 ference ; he never felt any ill effects from the exposui'e. Per- 
 haps you will wonder at this. The only explanation I can 
 give is, that a warmly clad person at work in the open air is 
 too much occupied to stop to think about taking cold. Im- 
 agination goes a great way sometimes. 
 
 That night, thanks to the promptitude of Washburn & Co., 
 a large package of seeds came to us by express, and we spent 
 the evening in examining them, and in making ourselves 
 acquainted with their different methods of culture. 
 
 The following is a list of the contents of the package : — 
 
 Turnips. 
 
 Beans. 
 
 Cucumbei 
 
 Beets. 
 
 Peas. 
 
 Cabbages. 
 
 Radishes. 
 
OR, "WITH BRAINS, SIR. 275 
 
 Now it is impossible for me to give you a detailed account 
 of all our doings. Sufficient is it to say that as soon as the 
 warm weather opened, about the 15th of April, we went 
 to work at our planting. I say we, for I was so much inter- 
 ested in all that was going on that I could not stay in the 
 house, but, putting on a short dress, I joined Robert and his 
 boy Jack in the field. We had had several showers and the 
 soil was beaten down hard by the rain. At Jack's sugges- 
 tion the ground was loosened with a hoe and then raked 
 smooth. 
 
 As I told you before, the farm was divided into two parts 
 by the narrow roadway or path. This path extended north 
 and south, and at the upper or northern end, next the 
 woods, our first planting operations were begun. The first 
 thing we took was beans, — string or bush beans, — the early 
 yellow six weeks and early Mohawk. These were the two 
 sorts we selected from "Washburn & Co.'s catalogue. Jack 
 took the hoe and began to break up the soil ; Robert taking 
 a rake went after him raking it all smooth, while I held the 
 seeds and performed the part of " the admiring spectator." 
 But this did not suit me. I could not be idle while others 
 worked ; so, as soon as a slight furrow had been drawn with 
 the hoe, I began to drop the seeds about two inches apart, as 
 the books directed. 
 
 " Wait a bit ; we must not forget the phosphates. Jack, 
 
276 ■ FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 get a wheelbarrow and bring one of those barrels that stand 
 in the barn." 
 
 Accordingly the superphosphate was brought and thinly 
 scattered in the furrow or drill. When about halfway up 
 the first row I stopped. A new idea had come to me. 
 
 " Are you sure, Robert, that you have placed these rows 
 in the right direction ? Ought they to run north and south 
 parallel to the road, or east and west at right angles with 
 it?" 
 
 " I can't see that it makes any difference. The sun shines 
 down between the rows, and they do not shade each other, if 
 they are placed north and south. However, I suppose they 
 will grow as well one way as another." 
 
 " That is not what I was thinking of. Suppose now your 
 beanery was all up and in bearing order, and you wanted to 
 gather a few bushels for market ; will it not be very awk- 
 ward to have to walk with a heavy basket half-way down 
 one end of the plantation, then turn at right-angles, and 
 go up between the rows in order to get to the centre of the 
 field? You certainly cannot go stepping over the rows. 
 That would be still more awkward. Now, it seems to me, if 
 the rows were placed the other way, you could go to any 
 spot you wished by the most direct route." 
 
 "Harriet you are — a — well, you are everything that's 
 nice. Come, Jack, stop there. We will carry out her idea 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 277 
 
 and turn our plantation round end-ways. Never mind the 
 beans that are planted." 
 
 So we began again. Jack prepared the ground, Robert put 
 in the fertilizer, and I placed the seed. After planting several 
 rows I left them and went to the house to prepare dinner. As 
 I passed the lettuce-frame I looked at it. The young plants 
 were growing rapidly, and had stretched themselves up so 
 that they covered the soil from view. Altogether it made a 
 very pretty sight, — green, fresh, and thrifty. To my sur- 
 prise I found the potatoes had sprouted and were growing 
 finely. As I looked at them, I wondered how we were ever to 
 get them out. They seemed to have quite grown together. 
 While I was setting the table for dinner I happened to see 
 Washburn's "Guide" on the table. " Let us see, — did I 
 not read something about bush beans there ? Oh ! I fear 
 we have made a mistake." At that moment Robert came 
 in. 
 
 "What day of the month is this?" 
 
 "The sixteenth." 
 
 "Do you call this the middle of spring?" 
 
 " I should say not. It is early spring yet." 
 
 " Read this : ' All varieties of beans are very sensi- 
 tive to the frost and cold, and should not be* planted before 
 the middle of spring.' " 
 
 Without a word he laid down the book, and, taking up 
 
278 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 " Burr on Vegetables," dived into it with tlie greatest 
 eagerness. After turning over the leaves for a moment or 
 two he closed the book and opened McMahon's. 
 
 "What are you looking for," said I. 
 
 " Some crop that will stand the frost and that can be 
 "planted early. We must be doing something if we are 
 blocked at the outset. If we ought not to plant beans, we 
 can try something else. Ah ! I have it, — peas. Come, 
 let us dine." 
 
 After dinner we went out to make a new start in the 
 planting business. Marking off a large square having an 
 area of about half an acre we began again. Having planted 
 one row, Jack commenced to prepare another about three 
 feet from the first. 
 
 " Hold on, Jack, — that won't do. We must not waste 
 our land in that fashion. Make the rows nearer together." 
 
 Jack dissented from this. " Nobody ever planted nigher 
 than three feet. Farmer Stamford, and Farmer So-and-so 
 never planted less than three feet." 
 
 " Perhaps he is right," said I. 
 
 "Perhaps he is, and perhaps he is not. How much 
 manure does Farmer Stamford put on his land ? " 
 
 "Oh! a lot, — as much as ten one-horse loads to an 
 acre." 
 
 " Ten loads to an acre ! There are fifty loads here, 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 2T9 
 
 besides the superphosphates and other fertilizers. You may 
 make the next row eighteen inches from the last. There 
 is my foot rule. We will measure the space off by 
 inches." 
 
 We worked hard till six o'clock, and had the satisfaction 
 of seeing our " pea-patch " nearly planted. While at the 
 tea-table I was surprised to find the bread and butter dis- 
 appearing very rapidly. 
 
 "Why, Robert, what is the matter? I never saw you eat 
 so much." 
 
 " Eat so much ! It is you that are doing the eating. I 
 am quite ashamed to see that you have eaten so 
 heartily." 
 
 "Well, I was hungry." 
 
 " So was I." 
 
 Upon which we had a good laugh at each other. Our 
 out-door work had given us both wonderful appetites. 
 
 " We are very unfashionable, my dear." 
 
 "To be sure we are, but good health is unfashionable 
 also." 
 
 The next day was a real April day. Clouds, sunshine, 
 and showers, delightfially mixed. I did not venture out 
 myself. Eobert and the lad finished the peas before we 
 had much rain, and at about ten, I heard them at work 
 near the lettuce-frame. Throwing on a waterproof I went 
 
280 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 out to see what was going on. Jack was holding a large 
 flat basket, while Robert was carefully prying up the 
 potato sets with a flat stick. He was obliged to be very 
 careful, as the small shoots that had started from the eyes 
 were very tender and brittle. At first many of them were 
 broken in handling ; but he soon learned to dig them up 
 without injury. "When the bottom of the basket was 
 covered they started for the field, and I after them. First 
 the boy stirred up the soil, then my husband opened the 
 ground with his "hands, scattered a little guano through the 
 soil, and taking one of the potato-plants carefully set it in 
 the ground, leaving the green tips just showing through the 
 soil. As for me, I carried the basket. In about two hours 
 we had finished the work, leaving the plants three feet 
 apart each way. 
 
 Several showers passed over while we were busy, but we 
 let it rain. For my own part, I rather liked -it. It was a 
 novel sensation to be out in the rain with no umbrella. 
 What would our city friends have said if they had seen-us ? 
 It is true, my dress became fearfully soiled ; but it was an 
 old affair and could be easily washed. Just as we were 
 going to dinner I looked back over the newly planted field. 
 It seemed very thinly occupied, and appeared wasteful as 
 far as space was concerned. 
 
 " Can we not grow something between the potatoes, Rob- 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 281 
 
 ert? Is there not something that will come to maturity 
 before these plants cover the ground ? " 
 
 "Just what I was thinking of. We will consult the 
 books after dinner." 
 
 But the books did not help us, and we were thrown back 
 on our own resources. 
 
 " How would beets do ? " 
 
 " Not at all. It would take so long for them to come to 
 maturity, that the two crops would crowd each other and 
 become mixed up in inextricable confusion." 
 
 " You don't understand me. I mean beets as beet-tops, 
 not as roots." 
 
 " Oh ! ah ! I see what you mean. Sow the seeds thickly 
 between the potatoes, and then pull them up and sell them 
 when the tops are young and tender. Sell them for greens." 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 " Well, Harriet, all I can say is, that you will make a cap- 
 ital farmer if you keep on. Where did you acquire so much 
 brightness ? " 
 
 "Caught it — just as one would the measles — from my 
 husband." 
 
 That evening we had a call from our neighbor, Mrs. 
 Jones. She proved to be a lady of good sense and educa- 
 tion, and well acquainted with the best literature of the day. 
 We were both vastly entertained by her visit. She had 
 
282 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 views of her own on all subjects of interest. Art, music, 
 and politics were familiar matters with her. Among other 
 things we touched upon our farming operations. 
 
 " I have heard of your doings. It has made a good deal 
 of talk in the village already. They all seem to think you 
 will make a wretched failure of it. I tell them to wait. It 
 is not the first time a city-bred man has tried farming. 
 Many have done so, and succeeded too, which is more than 
 can be said of some regular farmers. You intend to con- 
 fine yourselves to garden crops, I hear." 
 
 " Yes. It is purely an experiment with us. We only 
 intend staying for a few months, and while here we follow 
 the business of gardening for a support." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it. I should really like to see some 
 such active young people as you are make the experiment, 
 and then give us the result. Perhaps you could settle the 
 vexed question. Does farming pay?" 
 
 " If we fail in every other respect we can at least do that. 
 We can show by our books just what it does cost, and as- 
 certain how much profit there is in it." 
 
 " I am glad to hear you say this. Farming, as carried 
 on about here, is a haphazard afiair. They never seem to 
 know precisely where they do stand, whether they are mak- 
 ing or losing money. Can I help you in any way ? My 
 husband when he was alive was a skilled gardener, though 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 283 
 
 he did not follow it as a profession. I wish he had. He 
 might have lived to this day instead of grinding his years 
 away over his desk." 
 
 " Thank you, Mrs. Jones. Doubtless you can help us. 
 For our own parts, we know little or nothing beyond what 
 we have acquired from books." 
 
 " Books ! — what do you want more ? Books, with brains, 
 and I fancy you can both furnish them, will accomplish any- 
 thing, I have quite a library of agricultural books. I shall 
 be happy to loan them to you at any time." 
 
 " Thank you, we shall be delighted to avail ourselves of 
 your kindness." 
 
 " That is right. I sometimes fancy that books love to be 
 read by people who appreciate them. Come and see me to- 
 morrow evening, and I will place my whole library at your 
 disposal. It will be a pleasure to see my books once more 
 in use." 
 
 The next day opened fair, but soon clouded over and re- 
 mained so the rest of the day. Robert at once took advan- 
 tage of the shade afforded by the clouds to plant out the 
 lettuce-plants. I did not assist him about it, but went out 
 once during the morning to see how they prospered. As we 
 were determined to use every foot of our land, it was 
 a matter of importance not to waste any by planting too 
 far apart. To make sure of having the young lettuce-plants 
 
284 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 stand just twelve inches apart, Robert made a marker, as he 
 called it. I called it " Nelson's Patent Lettuce-planter." It 
 was simply a ten-foot strip of board, having small pointed 
 wooden pegs fastened to it every twelve inches. By holding 
 this over the soil and letting it fall, ten small holes were 
 made in the soft earth. Into these the roots of the plants 
 were dropped, and with a slight pressure of the fingers they 
 were fastened upright in the ground. The planter was then 
 used again, and so on. After trying it a few times they 
 became quite expert, and when I came out to see them they 
 were setting out the plants at the rate of three a minute. 
 When I again went out, to call Robert in to dinner, the 
 entire three thousand five hundred had' been set out, and 
 they had begun again on the lot of plants that were still 
 growing in the pots and boxes. But here they met with a 
 difficulty. The plants were growing so close together that 
 on pulling them apart they were found to be drawn up very 
 thin and weak. 
 
 " So much for not knowing that they should be planted 
 out in a frame to give them more room, and make them 
 stocky. They quite starved each other, and are valueless. 
 We are a long way behind our fort3'--three thousand plants, 
 Harriet." 
 
 " I know it ; but can we not try again? Can we not sow 
 more seed, and transplant them before they are too old?" 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 285 
 
 " I do not know, I'm sure. We can but try it." 
 
 After dinner, Robert prepared a new bed in the frame, 
 and sowed lettuce-seed all over the soil. This he did to 
 force the plants along, intending to plant them out in the 
 field as soon as they were large enough. About half-past 
 five I w.ent out once more to inspect things. The frame had 
 again been planted Avith lettuce, and all the spare land be- 
 tween the young potato-plants had been raked over, and 
 beet-seed thinly scattered and raked in. I found the two 
 people at the farther end of the place preparing to make 
 another plantation. 
 
 " "What do 3^ou propose to put here, Robert?" 
 
 " Turnips." 
 
 " Why, I thought they were only useful as a late crop, — 
 planted in the fall for winter use." 
 
 " So they are ; but do you not remember seeing small 
 bunches of white turnips in the market, at home, in 
 June?" 
 
 " Yes ; we used to pay a shilling a bunch, and were glad 
 to get them at that price." 
 
 " Just so ; it is that shilling which has induced me to try 
 turnips as a spring crop." 
 
 " A good idea ; but, come, supper is ready." 
 
 As we walked slowly along the path toward the house 
 we passed the new lettuce plantation. 
 
286 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 "Is that not a waste of room, Robert? Can you not 
 grow something between those plants ? " 
 
 " Now, Hattie, you are going too far. That is carrying 
 things to a pretty fine point. There are only twelve inches 
 between the rows now. In thirty days the lettuce-plants 
 will touch each other." _ • . 
 
 "Perhaps so; but is there not* some small quick-growing 
 crop we could get off before the lettuce reaches that 
 point?" 
 
 " I am sure I cannot think of anything, and I doubt if 
 you can." 
 
 " Don't be so sure, sir. Wait till I can consult our 
 books." 
 
 On reaching the house I examined " Burr on Vegetables." 
 After a short search, I found these words : " If space is 
 limited, radishes may be sown with onions or lettuce." 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. * 287 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 WHAT IT DID COST. 
 
 The followiug evening we called on our new fi'iend and 
 neighbor. As we walked up the gravelled path, and ap- 
 proached the little cottage where Mistress Comfort lived, 
 quiet strains from a reed organ, skilfully played, greeted 
 our ears. The door was opened for us by Comfort herself, 
 who looked and spoke a comfortable, cordial welcome. If 
 we had been surprised to hear the music in such an out-of- 
 the-way place, we were still more astonished and delighted 
 on entering the brightly lighted parlor. A two-banked 
 organ, pictures, books, comfortable furniture, and a glorious 
 open wood-fire. Could any city parlor furnish more ? And 
 the lady of the house, — did she just step from a glass case, 
 or is this all a dream ? 
 
 " You seem surprised." 
 
 " We are, madam. We thought country people were — 
 well — not like this — rural." 
 
 " You must have got your ideas of the country from the 
 opera,— pretty but ignorant shepherdesses, gay with ribbons ; 
 or from story-books, — the men bowed down by labor, and 
 the women only capable of gossip and bad grammar." 
 
288 * FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 " For our own part we were ignorant. Others told us that 
 on leaving the city we should bid farewell to all that makes 
 life endurable ; that dwellers in the country never rose above 
 the clods in which thej' delved, or had an idea beyond cows 
 and such things. If one may judge from the specimens the 
 country sometimes furnished the city, they were not so far 
 wrong." 
 
 "It is true, a portion of the agricultural communitj'- are so 
 weighed down by toil that they seem but little above their 
 own cattle ; yet, for all that, you will find, in a given num- 
 ber of country people, just as much virtue, refinement, and 
 education as in the same number of city people in the same 
 circumstances in life ; no more and no less. The only 
 difierence I can see between the town and country is, that in 
 the country there are no very poor, no very rich. Human 
 nature is the same everywhere." 
 
 "We had quite a lively debate on this point, after which 
 conversation branched off to other matters. A more delight- 
 ful evening we never passed. Our host exhibited her pic- 
 tures, played for us, and lastly loaded us with books to take 
 home and examine at our leisure. As we rose to go, Robert 
 said : — 
 
 "Please, Mrs. Jones, may I ask one more question? 
 How happens it that you prefer living in this retired spot, 
 when your wealth and tastes would so naturally lead you to 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 289 
 
 the city, among all the advantages of concerts, lectures, and 
 society ? " 
 
 " Simply because I am not wealthy. A little money goes 
 a great ways in the country. The cost of living would be 
 so much greater in the city that all my income would be 
 expended on my support ; that is, such a support as I 
 should desire. Here the cost is so much less that I can 
 indulge, as you see." 
 
 This set Robert thinking, and all the way home he was as 
 quiet as a mouse. 
 
 The next day the planting was resumed, and by the first 
 of May all was finished, save the beans and cucumbers ; 
 these we left until some time after. Would 3'ou like to view 
 the result of my husband's labor? Come and see. The day 
 is* mild and bright, the ground dry and clean. Birds 
 sing in the air, and a green mist seems to float in the woods. 
 The grass by the roadside is bright and fresh. Far down 
 the valley the river sparkles in the sun, while the hills, 
 marked off in various patterns, show where the fields are 
 planted with varied crops, and every crop a different shade 
 of green ; blue sky and flashing water ; purple mists on 
 the far-away hills ; a hundred shades of green on every 
 hand, and over all a flood of light. Now for details. As 
 we go up the path extending through our little farm, the 
 first thing we see is a long, narrow bed, or border, reaching 
 
290 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 from the path to the fence. It is four feet wide, and one 
 hundred and seventy-five feet long. Thickly dotted over it 
 are thousands of delicate leaves just breaking through the 
 moist soil. This is Robert's seed-bed. The plants are 
 cabbages. By and by they will be carefully transplanted to 
 some other place. Next we come to a broad strip of land, 
 covered with solid ranks of peas, about three inches high, 
 thrifty and vigorous. Here are our thirty-five hundred 
 lettuce-plants growing rapidly, while between every row 
 a narrow thread of green shows where our radish-plants are 
 hastening to maturity. Beyond these is another and larger 
 lot of lettuce. These are quite small, having been planted 
 later than the others. There are about ten thousand little 
 plants dotted at equal distances over the ground. The 
 same delicate thread of radish extends between the rows 
 of plants as in the other lot. Here is our turnip-field look- 
 ing finely. The rows are very thickly filled with plants, but 
 Jack is busy thinning them out by hand. He has two boys 
 to help him, for it is no small job. Every plant has to be 
 examined ; the weak ones pulled out, and those thjvt are to 
 remain left standing about four inches apart. There is half 
 an acre of plants, — at least twenty thousand. If we get 
 half a cent apiece for the turnips, tliis little plantation will 
 yield us one hundred dollars ; so you see, as far as money 
 is concerned, our farm already presents a cheerful aspect. 
 
OR, AVITH BRAINS, SIR. 291 
 
 Beyond the turnips are the early potatoes, and among them 
 the reddish-green leaves of the beets are spreading over the 
 gi'ound, and filling all the spare room. Lastly, is tlie empty 
 space where we began to plant the beans. They never came 
 up at all. On digging a few up to see what was the matter, 
 we found the seed quite mouldy and dead. "We had lost our 
 labor and the seed by planting too earlj^ The spring rains 
 having beaten the soil down hard, Robert and Mr. Kempen- 
 fielder are at work upon it with a horse and light plough. 
 Mr. Kempenfielder is leading the horse, and Robert holds 
 the plough. They have stopped to turn at the end of the 
 field. 
 
 " You have held a plough before, aint you?" 
 
 " Never touched one before," said Robert. 
 
 " You can't tell me that. You hold it as if you had done 
 so a year." 
 
 " Do I? It is only because I imitated you as nearly as I 
 could. This is my first lesson in ploughing." 
 
 " Then you beat all I ever see. My boy Tom took mor'n 
 a month to learn to plough." 
 
 " How so ? Was he not a bright boy ? " 
 
 " Bright as a dollar ; but somehow he never could seem 
 to give his mind to it. He was always a-reading books and 
 wanting to go to sea." 
 
 " Did you let him go ? " 
 
292 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 " Yes. It went agin us, but his mother and me finally 
 give in, and he went. He never would have been contented 
 on the old place. He said it was too lonesome and there 
 was too much work about it. He wasn't far wrong there. 
 Farming is dreadful hard work, and no mistake. You'll find 
 it so, I reckon, before you get through the summer." 
 
 " I have not found the labor very severe as yet ; but then 
 my farming is quite different from yours. Come, start up 
 your horse. We have no time to lose ; " and away they, go, 
 horse, plough, and all. * 
 
 In about an hour the work was finished, and the whole team 
 came slowly down the path, just as the factory whistle blew 
 long and loud for dinner. As they passed the lettuce-beds 
 Mr. Kempenfielder stopped and asked what they were. 
 
 " Lettuce and radishes." 
 
 "You don't say. All them lettuce? What can you do 
 with such an everlasting lot of them?" 
 
 " I hope to sell them." 
 
 " And what do you expect to get? " 
 
 " A cent a head." • 
 
 " Only a cent. Why there aint more than eight or nine 
 hundred all told. That won't bring you much." 
 
 " It would not be a great deal if there were but nine hun- 
 dred. According to my counting there are over thirteen 
 thousand plants in that lot." 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 290 
 
 " Thirteen thousand ! "Why, at a cent that would be over 
 a hundred dollars. A hundred dollars off that pocket-hand- 
 kerchief piece of land ! " 
 
 " That is the way! figure it. Besides the lettuce, I hope 
 to get a bushel or two of radishes off that same ground." 
 
 " Radishes ! Where are they? I don't see 'em." 
 
 " Right before you, between the lettuce-plants." 
 
 " "What, them little things ? Lor ! I thought they was 
 weeds. "Well, well, it's a kind of farming I could not follow. 
 I should have to wear my specs all the time to see the crops. 
 A hundred dollars ofi" that place ; but after all, it must have 
 cost a sight to raise 'em." 
 
 "It did cost something, but not a hundred dollars by any 
 means." 
 
 Now, perhaps you, like Mr, Kempenfielder, would really 
 like to know what it did cost, — how much money my husband 
 has sunk in our operation thus far. Seeds have been bought, 
 manure has been spread with a lavish hand, and the labor 
 must have cost something. I myself became a little uneasy 
 to see the money go so fast, and one evening, about the first 
 of June, we sat down to make an examination of our ledger. 
 Robert had not been so careless as to go blindly on spending 
 money without a thought. I found he had the whole thing 
 at his tongue's end and knew to a cent just where we 
 stood. 
 
294 
 
 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 The Faijm, Dr., 
 
 June 1. 
 
 To two hundred loads manure 
 
 . $200 00 
 
 " giiauo, ground bone, etc. . 
 
 . 100 00 
 
 " ploughing 
 
 15 00 
 
 " labor 
 
 10 00 
 
 •' two months' labor of boy . 
 
 60 00 
 
 " seed . . , . 
 
 10 00 
 
 " incidentals, tools, etc. 
 
 15 00 
 
 $400 00 
 
 Four hundred dollars so far. No return as yet. In addi- 
 tion to this we must enter our support for that time, but we 
 will leave this till we come to the final summing up of our 
 afiairs in October. My husband's labor should also be ad- 
 ded to the cost of our farm ; but that, too, we will defer for 
 the present. "Whether we shall receive enough from the 
 place to pay him for his toil remains to be seen ; however, the 
 prospect is cheerful. 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. * 295 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OUR FIRST HARVEST. 
 
 With the advent of June came the first real, downright, 
 hard work, — weeding. It was a novel experience with us 
 city people, to discover the charmingly independent way the 
 weeds had of coming up at all times and in all places. Lit- 
 tle did they care for our pet lettuce, or beloved radishes. 
 They (the weeds) came up seemingly in a night, and in the 
 very place they were least welcome. In fact, they were not 
 welcome at all. As soon as they made their appearance we 
 went forth to receive them with all honors. Getting our 
 tools, we started out "like an army with banners" (hoes), 
 and made a vigorous attack on the first we met. They were 
 among the young cabbage-plants in the seed-bed. "We very 
 quickly found our hoes were quite useless here. The only 
 thing to be done was to carefully pull them out from between 
 the plants. After a while I was obliged to give it up and 
 beat a retreat to the house, leaving Robert and the boy to 
 finish the undertaking. The labor was quite beyond me, re- 
 quiring more endurance than I could command. Just be- 
 fore noon the seed-bed was finished. At dinner-time Robert 
 came in, looking tired, flushed, and hot. In a few moments 
 
296 • FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 he was ready to come to the table, having washed and dressed 
 for dinner. This is something he never omitted. If he did 
 farm for afjiving, there was no occasion for his sinking the 
 gentleman. He did not follow the example of some of our 
 farming neighbors, and come to the table in his shirt-sleeves, 
 but maintained the same habits he acquired in the city. 
 Promptly at one o'clock the work was resumed. As soon as 
 I had finished clearing away the table I went out to see how 
 they prospered. To my surprise I found them at work 
 among our newly planted beans. I had supposed they would 
 take things in order. 
 
 " What induced you to skip over so many things, Robert? 
 Why did you not take the peas next ? " 
 
 "Beans must not be hoed when they are wet, — makes 
 them rust. They are dry now." 
 
 " Who told you so much? " 
 
 " Books." And he rapidly plied his hoe, throwing in the 
 words between the sharp ring of his tool, as it slid over the 
 ground, gently stirring the surface and setting the young 
 weeds adrift. The sun was'shining brightly, and the weeds 
 as they lay scattered about on the warm soil soon wilted 
 smay in the heat. Just where they were at work the soil 
 was fresh and brown beneath them, a few feet behind it 
 changed color, and a j^ard or two back it was quite dry and 
 dusty. This to me seemed very singular. I did not know 
 
OR, WITH BKAINS, SIK. 297 
 
 that the soil woukl part with its moisture so quickly. 
 While thinking about this, a new idea came to me. Is there 
 not a better tool, and a quicker way of doing this work? 
 The hoe Robert is using is only six inches wide, and each 
 stroke tears up a strip of weeds the width of the blade. 
 Would not some other tool do the work as well, and in half 
 the time ? Without a woi'd I went back to the barn, and 
 procured a light iron rake. Selecting a spot where the 
 weeds were pretty thick, though very small, I began to 
 draw the rake back and forth over the ground, as if for my 
 own amusement. After going a rod or so I threw it down, 
 and went over to where Robert was at work, near the fence. 
 As I approached I discovered that Robert and the bo}' were 
 not alone. There was a man, a farmer apparently, and a 
 stranger, leaning on the fence and talking with Robert. 
 
 "It must have cost you a sight to have fixed things up 
 as slick as you have here ? " 
 
 " Certainly it did," said Robert, still swinging his hoe 
 and talking at the same time. " It has cost several hundred 
 dollars already." 
 
 " Several hundred dollars ! You must have plenty of 
 stamps to be throwing them away in that sort of way." 
 
 " If I supposed I was throwing money away, I would stop 
 at once, and not spend another cent." 
 
 "You'd better stop any way. Farmin' never did pay, 
 
298 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 and I don't believe it ever will. The more land a man has, 
 the poorer he is off." 
 
 " The first part of your proposition I doubt, the last part 
 I can understand readily. If I were obliged to cultivate a 
 hundred acres I would give up at once, and turn to some 
 other occupation." 
 
 " I've got two hundred on my place. Its the old Stamford 
 farm, next door. My father left it to me, and I've managed to 
 starve on it all my life, and my children too, — that is, what's 
 left of them. The boys ran away ; the girls can't, so tliey 
 don't. They is willing enough, I dare say. Well, I don't 
 blame 'em. Farmin' is a dog's life, and mighty poor pay, 
 unless perhaps a fellow has lots of capital." 
 
 " There is one kind of capital you have as much of as 
 anybody." 
 
 "What's that?" 
 
 "Time! All the while you have been standing there 
 leaning against the fence, doing nothing, I have hoed a 
 whole row of beans, and have thereby added to their value 
 at least fifty cents." 
 
 Finding the conversation becoming pointed I went back 
 to examine the result of my labor. Just as I supposed, the 
 rake tore the weeds out of the ground, and the sun quickly 
 killed them. I cannot see but that the work is as well done 
 as with a hoe, and better in one respect. 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 299 
 
 " Robert, please come here and bring your hoe. If you 
 have a foot-rule, please measure the blade of your hoe, and 
 then measure my rake." 
 
 "I have no rule, but can place them side by side and 
 compare the width of each." 
 
 Taking up the tools he laid them side by side. 
 
 " The rake is more than twice as wide as the hoe ; if the 
 hoe is six inches, the rake is more than twelve. I see what 
 you are aiming at, Harriet. You think the rake will do 
 twice as much work as the hoe ; that every stroke will go 
 over a greater space, and consequently there will be a sav- 
 ing of time and labor. A good idea, but will it work? 
 Will it do as well? * Can you kill the weeds by raking 
 them up ? " 
 
 " Come and see." 
 
 " I declare, Hattie, that is a success. How came you to 
 think of it?" 
 
 " Pure inspiration. Country living has clarified my 
 brain. I shall expect to shine " — 
 
 Looking up, I discovered that the man by the fence had 
 climbed over, and was standing near, with his hands in his 
 pockets, staring open-mouthed at our doings, and saying : — 
 
 " I swaney if she aint got a head-piece. Who'd a-thought 
 it would work so? Every weed's killed. I don't believe 
 Sally or Jane would have done it." 
 
300 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 "Hallo, Mr. Stamford!" said Robert, " where did you 
 come from ? I was afraid I had driven you off. This is Mr. 
 Justin Stamford, Harriet, our next neighbor through the 
 w^oods." 
 
 " Glad to see you, ma'am. You is the first lady I ever see 
 that showed a spark of interest in farmin'." 
 
 I returned the salutation as well as I could, being some- 
 what amused at the queer mixing up of heads and rakes. 
 
 Taking up the rake, Robert went to work, raking the 
 weeds instead of hoeing them, leaving me to entertain 
 Mr. Stamford. This I was not inclined to do. It was 
 nearly four o'clock in the afternoon, — high time all reasona- 
 ble people should be about some regular employment. Yet 
 here was this man, idly stopping to talk ; and talk he did, in 
 a straight line, till I could stand it no longer ; so, as politely 
 as I could, I escaped to the house, much wondering at the 
 man's utter indifference to the value of time. Perhaps he 
 is a man of property and leisure, thought I. He don't 
 look it, and he saj^s he has a two-hundred-acre farm. 
 How is it possible he can have any leisure at this time 
 of the year and with such an estate? 
 
 So the days sped away and the summer was at hand. 
 Our days were devoted to the farm, and our evenings to 
 reading for profit or pleasure. We read all the agricul- 
 tural books we could obtain from our neighbor, Comfort, 
 
OR, AVITH BRAINS, SIR. 801 
 
 besides taking tue " Cultivator and Country Gentleman," 
 the " New England Farmer," and other rural papers. In 
 these we found a vast fund of valuable information. "We 
 could not understand it all at first, but after a while we 
 learned the meaning of the technical terms, and then it was 
 easy enough. The only thing that troubled us seriously in 
 our reading was the immense number of details and 
 minute directions for doing things, and, what is more, 
 every writer seemed to have a pet method of his own, and 
 gravely informed the reader that his way was the only one to 
 be followed. As we oftentimes found a dozen articles upon 
 a given subject, and all proposing a different style of doing 
 a thing, it was somewhat emban*assing. 
 
 "What shall we do, Eobert? One man says, do it my 
 way ; another says, no, my way Is the best ; and a third 
 offers still another plan. They all say the}' have each tried 
 their own method, and succeeded also. How can that be?" 
 
 " They are all more or less right. There may be several 
 ways of performing some agricultural operation, and each 
 having some one point of advantage over the other. All 
 we can do is to select the m^ethod which seems the most 
 simple and the nearest to common sense." 
 
 Here is a list of a few of the books we read : — 
 
 " The Field and Garden Vegetables of America," by Fear- 
 ing Burr; a useful and valuable book. 
 
302 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 " The American Gardener's Calendar," by Bernard Mc- 
 Mahon. This had the operations of each month placed 
 together, — a great convenience. The only trouble with the 
 book is that it attempts too much, and confuses the 
 novice. 
 
 " The Elements of Agriculture," by Geo. E. "Waring ; a 
 scientific work, but plainly written, so that it can be under- 
 stood b}'^ any one of ordinary education. 
 
 " The Chemistry of the Farm and Sea," by J. R. Nichols ; 
 full of information, but, for all that, not a book which would 
 aid us greatly. "We did not spend much time over 
 it. 
 
 " The Field-Book of Manures ; or, the American Muck 
 Book ; " by D. J. Browne, stuffed with information like a 
 chicken ready for dinner, and, like some stuffed meats, re- 
 quiring brain-sauce and salt to go with it. 
 
 " A Manual of Agriculture," by George B. Emerson, and 
 Charles L. Flint. This we found to be a school-book ; as we 
 were not above going to school, it helped us wonderfully 
 after we had found time to master it. During our first ex- 
 perience at farming we gained but little from it, as it re- 
 quired study to understand it all. 
 
 " The American Home Garden," b}'- Alexander "Watson ; 
 a useful and sensible book. Yet to read it one must have 
 some knowledge of gardening beforehand. Not having it, 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 303 
 
 we could not avail ourselves of the book till some time 
 after we began business as " sass farmers." 
 
 These all and many others we read as cai-efnlly as we could, 
 and gathered from them what help we needed. At that time 
 Henderson's " Gardening for Profit" was not published. If 
 it had been, we could have saved ourselves many mistakes. 
 
 About the first of June Robert started off one morning 
 for the village, *'to buy a team," as he said. About noon 
 I heard some one drive into the yard, and on going to the 
 door I found Robert, with an animal, — a horse they called 
 it, ancient and bony. On the creature's back was a light 
 harness, whole, but decidedly old. Behind the beast was a 
 small open wagon with one seat. If the horse looked old 
 the wagon seemed older still. 
 
 "How do you like my team, Harriet? Lovely creature, 
 is he not? His neck is not ' clothed with the thunder,' 
 but it has a good collar on. The valley does not tremble 
 ' when he paweth it ; ' and when he ' smelleth the battle 
 afar ' he don't say a word ; yet he can drag a load of 
 potatoes, to say nothing of lettuce, and he'll do." 
 
 " How can you talk so, Robert? What did you buy such 
 an establishment for ? I am sure I shall never ride in such 
 a thing." 
 
 " It is not for our riding that I got it, but to carry our 
 crops to market. The day of our prosperity is approaching, 
 
304 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 aud you can tell any of our city friends you write to that we 
 now keep a horse — and cart. How much do you think 
 I paid for my team ? " 
 
 " I am sure 1 don't know." 
 
 " Just fifty dollars for the w'agon, horse, and harness. 
 It will carry our crops to market, and we can sell it when 
 we return to the city, if we ever do so." 
 
 " Do you think there is any doubt about our re- 
 turn?" 
 
 " Yes ; my health is so much better since I have lived in 
 the open air that I am half inclined to stay out under the 
 sky for the rest of my days." 
 
 "How about our support in that event?" 
 
 " That is a question I imagine this rickety old wagon 
 will soon settle." 
 
 It did settle it in a measure the very next day. Just 
 about daybreak the next morning Eobert started oS to 
 market for the first time. He returned in time for a late 
 breakfast, and as he rose to go to his work he placed a 
 blank book and a small roll of bills in my hand, saying, as 
 he did so, " Our first sales, Hattie." 
 
 '3 busliels of beet-tops, at 75c $2 26 
 
 12 doz. lettuce, 50c 6 00 
 
 6 " bunches of radishes, $100 6 00 
 
 1 bbl. of peas 8 00 
 
 $22 25 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 305 
 
 That evening Robert was late to tea, so I went out to 
 see why he did not come. I found him by the barn, with 
 a huge pile of radishes before him on a rude bench. • He 
 and the boy were busy tying them up in bunches of ten 
 each. 
 
 " Slow work, is it not? " said I, taking up a few, and pre- 
 paring to make up a bunch myself. 
 
 "Yes, it is very slow. At this rate we shall have to 
 hire more help soon in order to gather our crops. The peas 
 are rapidly ripening, and the lettuce is all heading up 
 at once." 
 
 " How would it do to employ girls about your picking? " 
 
 " I don't know. I never thought of it." 
 
 " It would be worth trying, at any rate." 
 
 " Do you think we could find any girls to work for us, 
 Jack?" 
 
 "Can't say, sir. Never heard tell of such a thing 
 before." 
 
 " Can you not ask Mr. Kempenfielder, or Mrs. Comfort? 
 Perhaps they could help us," said I, tying my bunch with a 
 piece of string. Just then a new idea came to me : Is 
 there not some better way of doing this ? 
 
 " Would we not save time if we divided the labor, 
 Robert?" 
 
 "How so?" 
 
306 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 " Why, you make up a bunch, while I get the string and 
 tie it when you are ready." 
 
 " A good idea ; only you must not use twine. Take some 
 of that Russia matting soaking in the water-pail. Twine 
 would cut the roots, and injure their looks and sale. The 
 matting is soft and easy to work with while it is wet. "When 
 it becomes dry, it shrinks, and holds the bunch tightly in 
 place." 
 
 Robert then made up the bunches, and I tied, as he held 
 them. By so doing, we got on twice as fast as before. 
 
 " Still another idea, Robert. Suppose, instead of your 
 flesh and blood fingers, we had some wooden ones." 
 
 Without waiting to even thank me for the suggestion, he 
 dropped the radishes, and went into the barn, and I soon 
 heard him at work with hammer and nails. In a few min- 
 utes he returned, bringing a small wooden rack, or frame, 
 looking like a reduced saw-horse. Placing it on the bench, 
 he threw a few radishes into it and tied them up in an 
 instant. 
 
 " You place them, and I will tie them." 
 
 Soon we had quite a pile of bunches before us. 
 
 " Lend a hand, Jack. Take them away and wash them, 
 while we tie them up." 
 
 At the sight of our improved method the lad opened his 
 eyes very wide, and said : — 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 307 
 
 "See what larnin' will do. Goodness ! If I had sich a 
 head-piece as that, I wouldn't be the poor devil I am." 
 
 Robert was up at daylight the next morning as the team 
 was not quite ready for market. He and Jack worked hard, 
 and at half-past five Robert drove out of the yard with his 
 wagon piled up with boxes and barrels. After breakfast 
 I entered the following in my account-book : — 
 
 20 doz. lettuce, at 50c • . . . $10 00 
 
 15 " bunches radishes, at 80c 12 00 
 
 1 bbl. peas 5 00 
 
 1 bush, beet-tops 50 
 
 $27 50 
 
 After dinner we both walked over to neighbor Kempen- 
 fielder's, to see if we could get any helpers to work for us 
 on our place. As we approached the house, we caught 
 sight of a far from charming picture. There stood Mr. K. 
 in his shirt-sleeves, ^nd at his heels were three unruly chil- 
 dren, screaming and making themselves generally disagreea- 
 ble. At the windows were two girls, about ten and twelve 
 years old, Avhile a boy was chopping wood near the door. 
 Two dogs, a cat with several kittens, seven cows and a calf, 
 also assisted in the tableau. The house, a large, old-fash- 
 ioned affair, was flanked on one side by a huge barn, with 
 its door idly swinging in the wind, and on the other by a 
 rickety shed, filled with all sorts of carts, wagons, and tools 
 
308" FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 in various stages of decay. All around fhe garden was a 
 low stone wall, decidedl}' dilapidated, literally one -stone 
 falling from another. Though the day was warm, every 
 windoAV in the house was closed, and as we entered, it was 
 like going into a musty garret. The lady of the house, fat 
 and forty, if not fair, opened the door and ushered us into 
 the best room, crowded with uncomfortable furniture placed 
 with mathematical, precision about the room, and drawing 
 up the curtain let in enough light to make things visible. 
 After the children had been quieted and sent out of the 
 room, Mrs. Kempenfielder opened matters by remarking on 
 the weather and crops. From this the conversation slid to 
 our doings on our own little farm. 
 
 " "We are very busy just now picking peas," said my hus- 
 band; "we haA^e so many, and as the price rules high, we 
 are in search of pickers." 
 
 " Labor is plenty enough," replied^Mrs. K. " My hus- 
 band had lots of it offered to him ; but we don't keep but two 
 men. It is as much as your life is worth to get their pay 
 out of the place, to say nothing of anytjaing more." 
 
 " Indeed ! I supposed you kept at least ten or twelve 
 men on such a large farm as this." 
 
 "Ten or twelve men! Lor, bless you, no ! Who could 
 Stan' it? Two's bad enough." 
 
 Just fien, Mr. K. entered. He had procured a coat, and 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 309 
 
 was plainly ill at ease in it, or in the room, I don't know 
 which. Evidently the parlor was for show and coinpan3\ 
 
 "It is labor yon are looking for, — is it? Plenty of it 
 round, such as it is, — Irishmen and Germans." 
 
 " We are not in want of men at all. We want young 
 people, — would prefer girls." 
 
 " Girls ! girls to work on your place? " 
 
 " Certainly. The work is light and not difficult."' 
 
 " I never heard of such a thing before. Girls work on a 
 farm ! — not much. It would kill 'em right off. ' A gii-1 or 
 woman might as well hold the moon as a plough. You nor I 
 will never see such a thing as a woman at work out-of-doors, 
 and, what is more, I hope we never shall. My daughters 
 never will, at any rate." 
 
 "You know, sir, a great deal more about farming than I 
 do ; but I cannot see what objection there can be if a girl or 
 woman assists about a farm, — picking peas, tying up tur- 
 nips, gather ing^trawberries, or any occupation requiring a 
 quick eye and ready fingers. There are hundreds of 3'oung 
 girls, daughters of poor men, who would gladly earn some- 
 thing for their own support if they could know how, and 
 were not afraid of Mrs. Grundy."- 
 
 "Who is Mrs. Grundy?" 
 
 " The old lady who lives next door, and always says 
 ' They say,' " said I, coming to the rescue. 
 
310 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 " You don't mean Mrs. Stamford," said Mrs. K., firing up 
 suddenly. 
 
 " Oh, dear, no. Mrs. Grundy is not a woman at all, or 
 rather she is all women." 
 
 This puzzled her mightily, and she relapsed into silence. 
 
 " Perhaps you are right, Mr. Nelson, yet I fear 3^011 will 
 not find what you want about here. None of the native 
 girls would come down to such work. Thej^'d be glad 
 enough to get the money, but the working for it would stop 
 'em sure." 
 
 Finding we were to get no assistance, Robert turned the 
 conversation to other matters, and after a while we bade them 
 good-afternoon and walked on toward the next house, just 
 beyond the woods. 
 
 " What an unlovely home ! " 
 
 " Yes, and what a life ! It is not living at all ; it is mere 
 existence." 
 
 " Vegetating." • 
 
 "Well said, Harriet. Those people haven't an idea 
 above potatoes. Oh, if that is farming, may I never be a 
 farmer ! I don't wonder the son ran away." 
 
 "But need farm life to "be so sunk in toil and igno- 
 rance ? " 
 
 " I am sure I do not know. Perhaps these people we arc 
 coming to can tell us. I suppose this must be the Stamford 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 311 
 
 place ; " for we found ourselves standing before a small cot- 
 tage bouse with a pretty flower-garden by the front door. 
 On either hand wide-spreading meadows la}'^ warm and fair 
 in the afternoon sun, the breeze just stirring the tall grass 
 and waving grain. A noble great barn stood behind the 
 house, and everything betokened neatness, order, and sub- 
 stantial comfort. 
 
 " What a splendid farm ! " said Robert. 
 
 " And what a charming home ! " 
 
 " Let us go in, by all means ; " and we did. 
 
 Mr. Stamford was a-fleld, but his wife and two daughters 
 welcomed us kindly. "We found them to be pleasant and 
 well-informed people, without a trace of rusticity. This 
 surprised us, as we supposed, from what we had seen of Mr. 
 S., that his family would be oppressively rural. The true 
 explanation of this came out afterward. Among other 
 things mentioned during our visit was the matter of 
 " pickers." 
 
 " Just the thing ! " exclaimed the elder of the young ladies. 
 " Why should not girls work out-of-doors iu the fresh air 
 and sunshine ? I am sure I wish I could." 
 
 " Father would never let you, Jane," said the younger. 
 " He and mother attend to everything, and do not let us do 
 anything about the house or farm. It is nothing but mend 
 and sew, sew and mend with us ; or it is read, read, read, 
 
312 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 all day long, till we have read every book and paper we can 
 find. I wish father would work less and read more, and let 
 us work more and read less." 
 
 " Hush, Sally ! " said Mrs. Stamford, reprovingly. " Your 
 father, as you well know, grants every reasonable wish you 
 have." 
 
 ""Yes, mother, all except the very reasonable desire for 
 some regular employment." 
 
 " How can you talk so before Mr. and Mrs. Nelson? 
 Doubtless they quite agree with your father." 
 
 " To tell the plain truth," said Robert, "we do not agree 
 with him at all." 
 
 Fortunately, just at this point, Mr. Stamford himself 
 entered the room, and the conversation was diverted to 
 other channels. In a few minutes, however, it wandered 
 back again. 
 
 " Perhaps you could work girls on your place if you had 
 'em, but I dunno where you'd find 'em." 
 
 " I would go in a minute if I were not — were not — so 
 far advanced in years," said Jane. 
 
 "So would I," said Sally. 
 
 " Come, girls, do talk sense or not at all," broke in Mr. 
 Stamford, testil5^ 
 
 Seeing rocks ahead, and fearing a wreck, Robert skilfully 
 steered one side, and sailed away on another tack. 
 
OR, WITU BRAINS, SIR. S13 
 
 When we left Mr. Stamford's, we went home by the way 
 of Mrs. Jones'. As we passed her house she beckoned us 
 in, and while there we mentioned the employment matter. 
 The idea seemed to strike her favorably, though she con- 
 fessed she could not help us about it. At last she bright- 
 ened up, and said she saw a way out of our difficulties, — 
 advertise. 
 
 The next evening, the "Arenac Plaindealer" contained 
 the following : — 
 
 •'Wanted, at once. A few smart, active girls to work in a 
 market-garden. The labor is liglit, and the pay reasonable. Ap- 
 ply to 
 
 "Egbert Nelson, Upper Eoad." 
 
314 FARMING BY INCHES 
 
 ' CHAPTER Vn. 
 
 OUR LEDGER. 
 
 The next day but one we had a queer commentary on 
 Messrs. Kempenfielder and Stamford's ideas of female 
 labor, by finding twenty-one girls and sixteen boys paraded 
 in our yard, all eager to obtain the " light work, and rea- 
 sonable pay." The boys we rejected at once. Why they 
 came at all is more than I know ; perhaps they were modest, 
 and thought they could do a girl's work. Selecting six of 
 the brightest-looking girls, we dismissed the rest, and they 
 went back to the village sadly disappointed. Our six pick- 
 ers were soon introduced to the " pea-patch," and, as we 
 were quite as ignorant as they as to the best method of pick- 
 ing peas, we let them help themselves about it. However, 
 they were bright, and quickly learned that the true way 
 was for each to take a row, and pick clean as they went. 
 We paid them by the bushel, and thereby induced a lively 
 competition, which resulted in our mutual benefit. After 
 they had gleaned the peas, Robert set them to work tying 
 up turnips, in bunches of four each. Jack pulled the roots, 
 trimmed the tops, and brought them to the girls in the 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 315 
 
 barn, who, after tying them, washed and packed them in 
 boxes for market. 
 
 Robert took a full load to market the next morning. He 
 did not return as soon as usual. 
 
 " Had to find a market this morning, Harriet. Our store 
 would not take my whole load, so I drove round to the other 
 stores ; however, I sold out, and there is the account and 
 the money " : — 
 
 4bbls. of peas, at $4 00 $16 00 
 
 25 doz. lettuce, at 12c 3 00 
 
 6 " bunches radishes, at 75c 4 50 
 
 20 " " turnips, at 37c 7 40 
 
 $30 90 
 
 The six girls we retained in our service several days, and 
 then, as the rush of work was over, discharged four of them, 
 keeping two for a while longer. The four who were sent 
 away were sorry to leave. The two who remained 
 worked rapidly and well, and seemed to enjoy their occupa- 
 tion. Part of the work would be considered by many very 
 dirty. Neitlier we nor the girls thought so. A pile of tur- 
 nips covered with earth is not a lovely sight, and to handle 
 them seems very disagreeable ; yet good common loam is 
 not dirty ; it washes off easily and leaves neither stain nor 
 smell. I have tied up many a bundle of radishes and turnips, 
 
316 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 yet my hands will compare favorably with those of any lady 
 in the land. 
 
 The two girls took to their work kindly. They even 
 offered to do that which we did not expect of them. They 
 perfectly gloried in pushing a rake over the ground after a 
 shower ; and when it came to setting out the cabbage-plants, 
 after the peas were gone, they took hold of that, and beat 
 Robert and Jack in the quickness and neatness with which 
 they set out the young plants. The girls stayed with us 
 about a month, and during that time gave entire satisfac- 
 tion. When they left us we found that they had improved 
 wonderfully in health and strength, and as they went away, 
 I could not help remarking that they were two of the most 
 robust and hearty girls I had ever seen. To be sure, they 
 were very much sunburned, and rejoiced in freckles ; but I 
 have yet to learn that a sun-tanned face is a disgrace, or 
 that freckles are a bar to happiness. So much for the girls ; 
 now for the outside effect. 
 
 The fact of our employing female labor in our market- 
 garden produced a perfect uproar in the place. It set the 
 whole town by the ears ; indeed, we did not know before 
 that two such quiet people as we could create such an ex- 
 citement. A few praised our actions, but the greater num- 
 ber of the people condemned us in unmeasured terms. 
 " The Arenac Plaindealer " approved of our doings, and 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 317 
 
 thought we had performed a good work, in showing a new 
 field for the labor of girls and woraen. " The Arenac Bom- 
 barder " lectured us severely, and wrote slashing articles 
 after the manner of those newspapers which are just a little 
 behind the age, and very conservative. Nothing was too 
 bad to be said of our disgraceful proceedings. " The reign 
 of fanaticism had begun. The radicals had invaded the 
 village. Society would soon be subverted, and the govern- 
 ment overthrown." As for ourselves, we employed the 
 girls as long as we wished, and discharged them when it 
 was convenient, sublimely indifferent to the clamor around 
 us. 
 
 Want of time compels me to skip a portion of my story 
 It is impossible to give all the details of our doings. You 
 have seen how we started, and after we were fairly under 
 way the work became in a measure uninteresting. Not that 
 it lost interest to us, but that our days were passed very 
 muck as I have described, and, therefore, an account of 
 them would be mere uninteresting repetition. 
 
 Three times a week our ancient horse, " Bonaparte " as 
 we called him, carried our crops to market. Sometimes he 
 had a large load, and at other times a lighter one, as our 
 crops varied greatly in their time of ripening. The largest 
 money return we received for a load was forty dollars, and 
 the smallest six dollars. As one crop ceased to produce 
 
318 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 anything it was pulled up, the ground again prepared, and 
 some other crop put in. In this way nearly all our land 
 bore two heavy crops during the season. If we had not 
 followed some such course we could not have obtained the 
 result we did. 
 
 One cool October afternoon, while the leaves were falling 
 from the trees, and a purple mist lay on the far-away hills, 
 I went out about sundown to see the flame and gold spread 
 over Mount Arenac, and to take a short walk over our 
 now nearly empty farm. All our crops have matured save 
 the fall cabbages and the cucumbers. All traces of the 
 others have disappeared, and the greater part of the field 
 presents about the same appearance that it did when we 
 came here six months ago. As I walked along I could not 
 fail to contrast the present time with those first days when 
 we came here, tired and half-sick, and started with doubt- 
 ful steps in an untried field. Now we were both well, 
 strong, and contented ; happy in each other's company, 
 and in a position of comparative independence. We have 
 settled the question, — Farming can be made to pay. 
 Robert's health is now so well established that I suppose 
 we shall soon return to the city ; yet I shall be sorry 
 to go. Life is quiet, but very pleasant here. We have 
 made many new acquaintances. Comfort, onr friend and 
 neighbor, is a treasure in her way ; the two Stamford gals 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 319 
 
 are companions no one would despise, sensible, well 
 educated, and altogether charming. 
 
 And now we must leave them all, and many others 
 equally pleasant. How I wish we need not ! I wonder if 
 it is not possible to spend the winter here ? If it were only 
 summer always we could support ourselves with ease, and 
 could stay as long as we desired. I wonder if Eobert 
 could not find employment of some kind in the village for 
 a few months, and so bridge over the winter. There he is, 
 standing by the gate, talking with Mr. Kempenfielder. I'll 
 go and ask him. As I came up I found they were com- 
 paring notes on our crops. 
 
 "So your sass farm paid its way, did it?" 
 
 "Yes, it did more than that. It paid for the care of the 
 place, our support, and a little more." 
 
 "Well, well, it's mor'n I'd thought. Did you sell all 
 your stuff? You had a mighty pile of it any way. I never 
 seen such crops raked off any land before. Specks it was 
 the manure that did it. Did you sell everything you 
 growed?" 
 
 " Everything." 
 
 "What! them cabbages standing there? Are they 
 sold?" 
 
 " Yes, I sold them to the Railroad this morning. I sup- 
 pose they use them among their laborers on the new branch. 
 
320 FARMING BY INCHES 
 
 They offered five cents a head for the lot, and I took it at 
 once." 
 
 ''Only five cents? That aint much." 
 
 " Not much for a single head ; but when it comes to 
 over six thousand heads it is quite a sum of money." 
 
 " Six thousand heads ! Why, that's three hundred 
 dollars for the lot."- 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 "Well, well, it do beat all I ever heard tell. I don't 
 wonder your farm paid its way." 
 
 Just then Jack came along and handed my husband two 
 letters. Robert opened one of them and began to read it 
 eagerly. While so occupied the sound of approaching 
 wheels broke on our ears, and a heavy travelling carriage 
 drawn by a pair of black horses trotted gayly past our gate. 
 I tried to discover who was in it, but there was such a cloud 
 of dust that I could see nothing at all. Robert was more 
 fortunate. He evidently saw and recognized the occupants ; 
 for, as the carriage swept by, he crushed the letter into his 
 pocket, and to my infinite astonishment started on the full 
 run after it, shouting, " Doctor ! Doctor ! hold on ! hold 
 on ! " 
 
 After a short run he caught up with the carriage, and it 
 stopped. A brief parley was held, and to my still further 
 surprise the horses were turned round and the equipage came 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 321 
 
 slowly back toward our gate. Robert had got in, and was 
 talking excitedly with the people inside, whoever they 
 were. Utterly forgetting Mr. Kempenfielder, I stepped into 
 the street to see who had arrived. As the carriage drew up 
 to the gate, the door was thrown open, and out stepped our 
 friend and physician, — the doctor. 
 
 " Why, Mrs. Nelson ! This is indeed a surprise and a 
 pleasure. I need not ask how you are. I have prima facie 
 evidence of your health before my eyes. And your husband 
 too. I did not know him ; he is altogether a new 
 man." 
 
 Before I could answer a word Robert jumped out, and as- 
 sisting a lady to alight brought her to me. 
 
 "Julia," said the doctor, "this is Mrs. Nelson, another 
 of my patients. Mr. and Mrs. Nelson are the two young 
 people I told you about. You remember I sent them into 
 the country last spring when they were both nearly 
 dead." 
 
 " Indeed, doctor, I did not know I was your patient be- 
 fore," said I, extending my hand to the pleasant little 
 woman before me. " I am glad to see you, madam. Come 
 in, both of you." 
 
 " Here, here, Nelson, what are you doing with those 
 horses ? " . 
 
 " Going to put them in the barn." 
 
322 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 " Oh ! no ; we can stop but a few moments." 
 
 " Cannot stop ! But you must. Come, let me put them 
 up while you stay to tea, or stay all night, or stay a week, 
 — which ever you like." 
 
 " Really, Nelson, we must not. We have no time." 
 
 " Now, doctor, just listen to me. The last time I saw 
 you, you gave me a prescription. I took it. It saved my 
 life, as you see." 
 
 « Should say ii did." 
 
 " Yes ; and if you imagine I am going to let you pass my 
 door, and not come in and make us a visit, you are glori- 
 ously mistaken." 
 
 Thereupon he led the horses away toward the barn, leav- 
 ing the doctor and his wife to me. I at once took the cue 
 from' my husband's actions, and literally dragged them into 
 the yard. 
 
 " Wait a bit, Mrs. Nelson. Don't be in such a hurry. 
 We must stop and see your view. Come, Julia, let us sit 
 down on the door-step and admire. Is it not a lovely pros- 
 pect?" 
 
 " Lovely does not express it. It is grand." 
 
 Finding they were making themselves quite at home on 
 our door-step, I sat down myself beside them. After gazing 
 about for a few moments, the doctor's wife broke silence : — 
 
 " What river is that we see far down the valley? " 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 323 
 
 " The Iloosensacken." 
 
 "And the village?" 
 
 " Arenac." 
 
 " And the flame-and-gold-colored mountain beyond?" 
 
 " Mt. Arenac." 
 
 " Well, it is lovely, — it is more than lovely, it is grand. 
 How is it you happened to come to such a charming 
 spot?" 
 
 " "We not only came to the spot, but it came to us." 
 
 " How so? " asked the doctor. 
 
 Just then my husband came up. 
 
 " Here, Nelson, tell us all about this. How did you hap- 
 pen to light on this charming place ? When did you find it, 
 and what have you been doing since I saw you last?" 
 
 " My uncle left it to us. We came here last spring, and 
 have farmed it ever since." 
 
 " You don't say ! I congratulate you ; but I hope he left 
 you plenty of money to carry it on. Farming does not pay 
 as an investment." 
 
 " So I am told. Uncle Jacob did leave us a little money, 
 but not enough to support us in idleness. We have both of 
 us worked hard, and have earned a fair reward." 
 
 " In health." 
 
 " Yes ; and in money too." 
 
 " Really, you surprise me. But then, I knew j'^ou would 
 
324 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 succeed in anything if you put your mind to it. Come, tell 
 us more about it. I am vastly interested." 
 
 " So I will, after supper." 
 
 If there is anyi one thing I pride myself upon it is my 
 house-keeping. When it comes to getting up a supper, I 
 shine. On this occasion I spread myself, and produced a 
 marvel of art in its way, — simple, as became our rural 
 home, but very, very nice. Our guests were delighted, and 
 did ample justice to my skill. After tea Robert lighted a 
 great, roaring wood fire on the hearth, and we all drew up to 
 the cheerful blaze, for the evening was chilty. The doctor 
 and his wife were all impatience to hear about our doings 
 since our arrival in Arenac, and Robert soon gave them a 
 detailed account of all our adventures, very much as I have 
 told you, sinee we left the city. 
 
 " Now, tell us about the financial part. You say you 
 made money by the operation. Give us the figures. They 
 may aid me if I am ever called upon to give any one the 
 same prescription I gave to you with such success ." 
 
 " Come, Harriet, get out your ledger. You see, doctor, 
 my wife was the clerk of the establishment, and kept the 
 books." 
 
 The doctor's wife looked up surprised. 
 
 "Why did you do that? I thought your husband was a 
 famous book-keeper." 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 325 
 
 " To save time. I could do it as well as he, and so leave 
 him free to work on the farm." 
 
 " A very sensible plan," said the doctor. 
 
 Here we were startled by a knock at the door. On open- 
 ing it, I was surprised to find our neighbor, Comfort Jones, 
 on the step. 
 
 Here was a chance for a triumph, and I improved it. Our 
 visitors, no doubt, had the usual city ideas of country people. 
 Here was a pet sample of a country lady, and I paraded her 
 before their astonished eyes with an immense deal of satis- 
 faction. They were captivated at once. They had never 
 met a more charming old lady, they said, after she had 
 gone. Robert offered a seat, and, after being introduced, 
 Mrs. Jones sat down with us before' the fire, and our circle 
 was complete. 
 
 " We were about giving our city-friends some account 
 of our doings since we turned market-gardeners. . I sup- 
 pose you have no objection to hearing it also." 
 
 "Objection! Oh, no ! nothing would afford me greater 
 pleasure. It is the very thing of all others I should like to 
 hear about. I should like especially to hear if it is true 
 that you made money by your farm. Some seem to think 
 you did, and others say it is not possible to make anything 
 out of so ^mall a place." 
 
 " The very point I was trying to get at," said the doctor. 
 
326 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 So I got out my ledger, and Robert opened it to read such 
 portions as would interest our company. 
 
 "In the first place," said he, " I will give you a list of 
 our crops, and what we received for each, and then I will ' 
 show you some of the bills. You can then compare the 
 two, and see the result for yourselves. The first thing we 
 tried was early peas. We planted half an acre of the 
 'Daniel O'Rourke' variety. We sold ten barrels at five 
 dollars, and ten at four dollars each, which produced 
 just ninety dollars for the crop. After they were gone we 
 cleaned up the ground and planted it with fall cabbages ; 
 but I will tell you more about them soon." 
 
 " Planted two crops on the same land ? " asked the doc- 
 tor. 
 
 "To be sure. That is the only way in which to make 
 money." 
 
 " Well, I never heard of that before." 
 
 " It is the common practice among our best market-garden- 
 ers," said Mrs. Jones. 
 
 "But how can they do it? Does it not exhaust the land 
 at a fearful rate ? " 
 
 "So it would if they did not spend money on it at an 
 equally fearful rate." 
 
 " That is just the point. It costs so much to do these 
 things, I don't wonder it does not pay." 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 327 
 
 "Wait a moment, doctor. Let me read a few pages 
 more. Next we planted a half acre of ' Early Flat Dutch 
 Turnips.' We laid out the money on the land in the form of 
 manure ' at a fearful rate,' and the result was, to those who 
 had to pull and tie them for market, simply ' fearful.' I 
 never saw so many turnips in my life. There were upwards 
 of thirty-five thousand roots. They brought us an average 
 price of three quarters of a cent apiece, which amounted in 
 the aggregate to two hundred and seventy dollars." 
 
 "Only three quarters of a cent?" said Mrs. Doctor, 
 " Why, we have to pay a shilling a bunch in town, which 
 would be four cents apiece. Somebody must make a profit 
 out of it, if you don't." 
 
 " Yes," said my husband, " the jobbers and retailers do 
 make a large profit out of it ; but then they have all the risk 
 and we have none. We sell at once, and for cash, whereas 
 they have to run all the risk of finding purchasers, or having 
 the goods spoil on their hands. The price paid to the 
 grower seems small, but he is insured, and the insurance is 
 worth something." 
 
 " Insurance is worth a great deal," said the doctor. 
 
 " Then we attempted to grow an acre of Tennisball and 
 Curled Silesia Lettuce, but could not compass it. We odly 
 had thirteen thousand lieads in all. We received four cents 
 a head for the first thousand, which amounted to forty dol- 
 
328 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 lars, and two cents for the next two thousand, which gave 
 another forty dollars ; lastly, we sold eight thousand at one 
 cent each, which gave us eighty dollars more, making in all 
 one hundred and sixty dollars for our lettuce. The rest we 
 lost through ignorance. "We let them stand too long, and 
 they went to seed on our hands. Among other things we 
 forced a lot of potatoes, and when the young plants were 
 well started, we planted them out one rainy day. We had 
 something over seven hundred hills ; they came in early, and 
 brought a great price. The gross amount was one hundred 
 and ten dollars. To economize room we sowed seed of the 
 ' New Perpetual Spinage Beets ' between the potatoes, and 
 harvested sixteen bushels of nice greens, which brought 
 about fifty cents a bushel, or eight dollars for the lot." 
 
 " That was not a very large crop, Nelson." 
 
 " No ; but you see we got it from land that otherwise would 
 have been idle ; besides it only cost the labor and seed, which 
 I suppose amounted to about one dollar. That reminds me 
 of our radish speculation. At my wife's suggestion we 
 planted radishes between the rows of lettuce." 
 
 "It was not my idea," said I; "I got it from the 
 books." 
 
 " A very sensible plan, Mrs. Nelson," said the doctor. 
 " A few books well read will put one well along on almost 
 any road." 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 329 
 
 " As far as I can discover," remarked Mrs. Jones, " they 
 got all their ideas from books." 
 
 " Oh ! no, not all. If we had followed the books alone, 
 and not used common sense and some out-door practice, 
 we should have failed miserably." 
 
 " And yet," said the doctor, " without book I fancy you 
 would have accomplished but little. It was evidently 
 books, brains, and — " 
 
 " Yes ; books, labor, and brains carried you through."* 
 
 " Their case," said Mrs. Jones, " reminds me of Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds' apt reply when asked what he mixed his 
 colors with : ' With brains, sir.' " 
 
 " You flatter us, Mistress Comfort." 
 
 " Comfort ! — What a pretty name ! " 
 
 " Come, Julia, don't run off on a side-track. Let us stick 
 to the turnips and lettuce. Now Nelson, we are ready to 
 hear more. It is wonderfully interesting, — as good as a 
 novel." 
 
 " Better than most novels," remarked Comfort ; " for it is 
 all real." 
 
 " Yes," said I, coming to the defence of the doctor's wife. 
 " Comfort is a nice name, and becomes the wearer, for she is 
 a dear, comfortable body as ever you met." 
 
 "Please, Mr. Nelson, give us more lettuce and some cu- 
 cumbers. I need something cool after that." 
 
330 
 
 FARMING BY INCHES: 
 
 " You shall have it, Mrs. Jones. We'll take up the cu- 
 cumbers next. After the turnips were pulled up, the ground 
 was covered with cucumbers. In order to do this we pulled 
 up a turnip or two every six feet, and planted a few cucum- 
 ber-seeds in the empty space. By the time the turnips were 
 ripe the young vines were a foot long, and ready to spread 
 over the ground. By so doing we lost a few turnips, but 
 gained three weeks in time, and made one crop overlap an- 
 other. The squash-bugs and other destructive insects 
 troubled us greatly ; but we showered the vines every morn- 
 ing with wood-ashes and plaster, and so fought the bugs off." 
 
 " Yes," said the doctor's wife ; " but where did you find 
 out that plaster would keep off the insects? " 
 
 " Harriet read it in one of our agricultural papers, — ' The 
 Country Gentleman ,' I think. Our cucumbers gave us 
 more trouble than any other one crop. Part of them we 
 sold fresh, but the bulk of them went for pickles. The 
 number of young cucumbers we had was something enor- 
 mous, — seventy thousand, if I remember rightly. The cash 
 return was one hundred and five dollars." 
 
 " But was it not a great job to gather them, Nelson? " 
 
 " It was, to be sure ; but we employed girls to help us." 
 
 " Employed girls ! " 
 
 " Certainly. They made the very best of pickers and 
 helped us greatly." 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 331 
 
 " And helped themselves too, to money, and health, which 
 is worth more than money." 
 
 "They did that, I can assure you. They were perfect 
 little giants when they left us." 
 
 " It was a capital idea. Nelson. I have lots of girls 
 among my patients who are always ailing slightly. A few 
 Aveeks of out-door work on such a place as this would set 
 them up for life. But, bless me, it would never do. It is 
 not genteel to work." 
 
 " Just what the people about here said," remarked Mrs. 
 Jones. " The mere fact that our friend employed a few 
 girls in his market-garden created a small tempest among 
 the villagers. They, too, thought it not genteel, etc." 
 
 " Great geese, all of them." 
 
 " Just my idea." 
 
 " Now, Nelson, go on, please. Let us hear more." 
 
 " To have a variety, we planted a half acre of the ' Early 
 Yellow Six-Weeks Beans.' They did very well. We had 
 about seventy-five bushels, which brought an average 
 price of one dollar and twenty-five cents a bushel, which 
 netted us just one hundred dollars. Lastly, we planted 
 cabbages where the peas, beans, lettuce, and potatoes had 
 been growing, and, after allowing a liberal margin for those 
 that never came to maturity, we harvested seven thousand 
 heads, and sold them all out in one lot for three hundred 
 
832 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 and fifty dollars, "Wait a moment ; there is one thing I did 
 not notice, radishes." 
 
 " Just what I was going to remind you of," said I. I 
 was proud of our radish speculation, and did not wish it 
 forgotten. 
 
 " We planted radishes between our lettuce, and pulled 
 and marketed it before the lettuce was incommoded." 
 
 " That is carrying things to a pretty fine point. Nelson. 
 How much space did you have between the rows?" 
 
 " Twelve inches." 
 
 " Only a foot? I should call that farming by a foot- 
 rule." 
 
 " Yes, ours was literally farming by inches. "We had a 
 very fair crop of radishes. We packed up and sold one 
 hundred and five dozen bunches. They brought about 
 seventy five cents a dozen bunches, or, in round numbers, 
 seventjr-eight dollars. Here is a list of all our crops, and 
 the total amount received for them. It is from our bal- 
 ance sheet : — 
 
 Peas . . , , . . $90 00 
 
 Turnips 270 00 
 
 Lettuce 160 00 
 
 Beets 8 00 
 
 Cucumbers 105 00 
 
 Beaus 100 00 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 
 
 333 
 
 Potatoes 
 
 Cabbages 
 
 Radishes 
 
 $110 00 
 
 350 00 
 
 78 00 
 
 $1,271 00" 
 
 " Now for the cost," said the doctor. " I'll warrant you 
 it nearly came up to that." 
 
 Manure of all kinds . . . $300 00 
 
 Labor of boy, six months . . 150 00 
 
 i< " 2 girls, 30 days . . 90 00 
 
 " " 4 " 5 " . . 30 00 
 
 " " men and boys . . 24 00 
 
 Ploughing . .... 32 00 
 
 Seed . . . . • . . 10 00 
 
 Tools 15 00 
 
 Books 3 00 
 
 Interest on estate, six months . 36 00 
 
 Taxes 8 00 
 
 Team 50 00 
 
 Support of family ... 420 00 
 
 $1,168 00 
 " The grand total of cost is, as you see, one thousand 
 
 one hundred and sixty-eight dollars." 
 
 " Just what I told you. I knew you would make little 
 
 or nothing by your farm." 
 
 " I know it seems a very small profit, only one hundred 
 
 and three dollars for all our labor ; but you must bear in 
 
334 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 mind that our farm supported us both and paid the above 
 profit. Now this is not the whole story ; there are two more 
 items to be entered. You must not think we sold our 
 entire crop, and denied ourselves everything. We were not 
 so foolish as that, I can assure you ; we supplied our own 
 table with the best our farm produced, and fairly revelled in 
 fresh vegetables. To the amount of our sales must be 
 added the value of the things used on our table. Then I 
 sold our old horse and wagon for forty dollars, as we have 
 no use for them in the winter. The account then stands 
 somewhat in this wise : — 
 
 Eeceived for crops . . $1,271 00 
 Vegetables used in house . . 110 GO 
 Sale of team . . . . 40 00 
 
 $1,421 00 
 Expenses . . . . 1,168 00 
 
 $253 00 
 
 " Our support and two hundred and fifty three dollars, — 
 a little more than ten per cent, on the capital used. Our 
 assets are as follows : Keal estate, twelve hundred dol- 
 lars ; furniture and etc., three hundred dollars ; tools, ten 
 dollars ; cash in Savings Bank, fourteen hundred dollars. 
 Total, two thousand nine hundred and ten dollars. Debts 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 335 
 
 Bone. A very satisfactory statement it seems to 
 me." 
 
 " It may seem so to j'^ou, but for my part," said the 
 doctor's wife, "I think you two people had to work pretty 
 hard to earn the paltry sum of two hundred and fifty 
 dollars." 
 
 " You forget, Julia, that they had their support from it, 
 and made what is considered a fair profit, — ten per 
 cent." 
 
 " Is that not the average return on capital invested in 
 mercantile pursuits ? " asked Comfort. 
 
 "Yes, most merchants are satisfied with that, and are 
 willing to run every risk to obtain it. As far as I can 
 understand it, Mr. Nelson was almost free from risk. His 
 position was a safe one, as it was independent. No pressure 
 in the money-market could affect him, for as long as people 
 live they must eat. His market wa*s assured to him as long 
 as he chose to supply it. The only risks he does run are 
 those of climate and competition." 
 
 " The first, doctor, all trades are liable to. The storm 
 that throws down my corn may sink another man's ship, 
 or blow over his tall chimney. As for the second, it would 
 be an advantage to have another good gardener next door. 
 We could help each other in various ways, and keep the 
 market more evenly supplied, and, by selling cheap, create 
 
836 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 a market where none existed before. Besides all this, the 
 non-producers, as a class, far outnumber the producers, and 
 are likely to do so for a great many years to come. If our 
 village of Arenac continues to grow as rapidly as it does 
 now, ten years hence it will be a great manufacturing 
 centre, and then a dozen such market-gardens as ours 
 could not furnish the material that would be required to 
 supply its market." 
 
 Just here Mrs. Jones rose, and, glancing at the clock, 
 said : — 
 
 " Really, I must go. It is nearly ten ; quite time I was 
 on my way home. I am sure I am glad I happened in at so 
 fortunate a moment. The account of j^our doings has 
 greatly pleased me. I can but congratulate you on your 
 success. I always supposed you would manage to get a 
 living from your farm,^and am truly glad 3'ou have done so 
 much better than that." 
 
 Then she shook us each by the hand and bade us good- 
 night. Robert offered to escort her home, but she declined, 
 as the night was not very dark, and the road short ; how- 
 ever, we all thought he had better go, and he went. 
 
 " What a pleasant lady your neighbor is ! Have you any 
 more like her ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! some of our rural friends and neighbors are 
 very sensible, agreeable people." 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 337 
 
 " Well, Mrs. Nelson, all I can say is, I think your lines 
 have fallen in pleasant places. I am very glad your hus- 
 band saw and stopped us as we passed your gate. The 
 story of your experience is one that will aid me, if I ever 
 have a patient in the same position your husband was in 
 last spring. What a change from your city home and life ! 
 Viewing your husband's illness from this distance, and in 
 the light of its result, I am very glad he was sick." 
 
 " Really, doctor, that is a new view of sickness. I 
 should not have been pleased to hear you give it last 
 winter." 
 
 " Very likely. We never know what is best for us. Our 
 blessings are generally disguised in some way." 
 
 " For my part," said the doctor's wife, " I fairly envy 
 you, Mrs. Nelson. Such a charming home ! You must 
 enjoy life in this little box of a house. It must be a pleas- 
 ure to take care of such a neat little place. Our great city 
 house and retinue of servants are all very fine at a distance, 
 but, as a home, yours is the best. You have no servants 
 and but little care. We have plenty of both. Henry Ward 
 Beecher once said, that ' A brown stone front was a means 
 of grace.' He was more than half right." 
 
 " Besides," said the doctor, " Mr. and Mrs. Nelson have 
 one other advantage over us city people ; for they have 
 
338 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 proved that in their case, the old proverb is true, — ' the 
 happiest people live in the smallest houses.' " 
 
 Soon after this I lighted a candle and conducted our 
 visitors to their room, as they had travelled a long distance 
 that day and were very tired. At the door I bade them 
 good-night. 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 830 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HEALTH, AS A FARM CROP. 
 
 CLOsma the door behind me, I procured a shawl, wrapped 
 it round me, and sat down by the fire to wait and to think. 
 Then I remembered how I had sat down just in this way 
 once before. There was no need now of gazing at the 
 embers in search of visions of the future. The time for 
 dreaming had passed. A tangible reality was with me now, 
 or would be soon. In a moment or two I heai'd it enter 
 and with firm steps approach my chair. It sat down by my 
 side, and then there were " four feet on a fender.'* 
 
 " A penny for your thoughts, Hattie." 
 
 " I was thinking of my dream." 
 
 "What dream?" 
 
 " The dream I had one night last winter, when I fell 
 asleep by^the fire while watching by your sick room." 
 
 " Oh ! I remember. What a realization we have had of 
 it!" 
 
 " Yes, indeed. It is almost startling so truly has it come 
 to pass. Surely ' God has been a strong castle unto us.' 
 He has saved you from the grave, and restored your health 
 In a way that seems miraculous." 
 
340 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 " It seems so, but is not. He helped us b}"- showing a 
 way in which we could help ourselves. He overstepped no 
 laws to benefit us, but simply aided us, by pointing a road 
 to health through obedience to sanitary laws." 
 
 " Well, any way, I am thankful." • 
 
 " So am I, truly thankful. Thankful also that He has 
 kept us together for another season, and given us a reason- 
 able expectation of many years in each other's company, — 
 leaving it a matter for ourselves to decide how long we shall 
 live, within certain limits." 
 
 " How can that be?" 
 
 " You must admit that we both have good constitutions 
 and are in perfect health at present." 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " And you see how the carrying out of sanitary meas- 
 ures placed our exhausted and debilitated frames in their 
 present condition. Now, it is but fair to suppose that if we 
 continue to follow the same sanitary rules, we can maintain 
 the high standard of health we now enjoy for an indefinite 
 time. That is, D. V., the Lord willing." 
 
 " Yes, but can we? Can we stay here any longer? ' The 
 harvest now is over, the summer days are gone,' and we are 
 not ' saved ' — unless we stay here. That we cannot do." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Because you must return to Farwell & Co. We should 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 341 
 
 ' quietly starve,' as you say, on the farm during the winter. 
 It is true we have plenty of money in the Savings Bank, but 
 we shall want it all to carry on our farming operations next 
 summer." 
 
 The only reply I got to this was the unrolling of a crum- 
 pled piece of paper, — a letter it seemed : — 
 
 " Office of the Arenac Print Works, 
 October 10th. 
 "Mr. Robert Nelson. 
 
 " Dear Sir : Your application for the vacant clerkship in our office 
 has been considered and accepted by the directors. They have de- 
 cided to give you a salary of one hundred dollai's a month, with the 
 understanding that the engagement shall not continue over six 
 months. At that time it is in contemplation to malie some changes 
 in the affairs of the corporation ; therefore it is impossible to make 
 any arrangements extending beyond that time. Your desk wiU 
 be ready for you on and after the 15th inst. 
 "Respectfully yours, 
 
 " CHARLES JOBSON, Agent." 
 
 " Now, isn't that perfectly splendid ? Just what we wanted. 
 Why, I almost want to kiss Mr. Dobson or Jobson, whoever 
 he is." 
 
 " I would a great deal rather you would kiss somebody 
 else." I did. 
 
342 FAKMma by inches; 
 
 " Now, my dear, come close to me while I whisper a little 
 secret in your ear." 
 
 " How can I? There is a limit to proximity." 
 
 " Did you know that our little farm produced one crop 
 that, in money value, far exceeds all the rest combined, — in 
 fact, a crop worth the sum of three thousand dollars?" 
 
 " Three thousand dollars ! " 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " Really, my dear, I do not understand you at all." 
 
 " Do you remember how many times I tried when we lived 
 in the city to get an insurance on my life ? " 
 
 " Yes, I remember it with sorrow. No company was 
 foolish enough to risk its money on such a precarious life 
 as yours." 
 
 Just here I felt a curious movement as if something was 
 being drawn forth from somebody's pocket. Looking up, I 
 beheld before my astonished eyes a policy on my husband's 
 life for three thousand dollars. 
 
 "There, Hat tie, is our latest and best farm crop, — my 
 health. The Arenac Mutual Insurance Company seem to 
 think it so far restored that they value it at the above sum. 
 It is in your favor. Allow me to present the policy to 
 you." 
 
 " O Robert, Robert ! This is too much happiness," And 
 I kissed him, and kissed him, — but dear me, what am I 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 313 
 
 saying? I have quite forgotten myself. Tliis is a story 
 about radishes and lettuce, not sentiment. 
 
 On the 15th of October, Robert burst his agricultural 
 shell, mounted his high stool, shook his quill in the ink, and 
 was — a .book-keeper. As for me " I minded the house." 
 
 About the middle of the following February, it was given 
 out that the Print Works had decided to build a new mill, 
 that would give employment to six hundred hands. On 
 hearing this my husband at once resigned his clerkship, and 
 returned to the farm. If the six hundred new hands and 
 their dependents came into the place, there would be at least 
 one thousand more mouths to be filled. " Sass " would be 
 in demand. 
 
 We began our farm work for the second year on the first 
 of March b}^ putting down a number of hot-beds filled with 
 potato, tomato, cabbage, and lettuce-plants. As we had a 
 larger capital to work with, our second year's sales ex- 
 ceeded the first. We spread the manure thicker, ploughed 
 deeper, and cultivated still more carefully. The result was 
 an income of twenty-one hundred dollars, which paid a profit 
 of twelve per cent, on the investment. 
 
 The farm after this kept us fully employed all the year 
 round with the exception of a few weeks in the dead of win- 
 ter. 
 
 The third year we started with a cash capital of eighteen 
 
344 FARMING BY INCHES; 
 
 hundred dollars ; fifteen hundred of this was expended for 
 manure. Perhaps you wonder at this. Many people im- 
 agine that one dressing is sufficient for several years. This 
 is a great mistake. To compel the land to yield at the rate 
 above mentioned, fertilizers must be jDloughed or -harrowed 
 in every season, and in the most liberal quantities. The 
 third year, at the suggestion of the market-man, we bi'anched 
 out and tried our hand at strawberries. We planted half an 
 acre, after pulling a crop of early cabbages. It gave us one 
 thousand boxes of berries the next year, which the market- 
 man took at twenty cents a box, and would have taken 
 more if we had only had them. After the berries were gone, 
 the plants were ploughed up in time to plant dandelions for 
 the next spring. You see we made our land give us an in- 
 come at nearly all seasons of the year. Not an inch of the 
 soil was suffered to remain idle a day, and every inch had to 
 produce all that money, labor, and skill could wring out of 
 it. Our sales the third year almost touched three thousand 
 dollars, and have remained thereabouts ever since. 
 
 I wish I could tell you more of our doings. Want of time 
 forbids a further extension. of my story. My object in giv- 
 ing you this little sketch of our agricultural experience is to 
 show you, or some one else situated as we were, a safe and 
 profitable field where you can earn both health and bread, if 
 you are so inclined. 
 
OR, WITH BRAINS, SIR. 345 
 
 Perhaps you reply, " This is all very fine, but is it 
 true?" 
 
 " Yes, in its main features this is a true story of actual 
 experience. The facts and figures I have given you are 
 taken from accounts of bona-fide sales and expenditures 
 of a real market-garden. The originals of most of the char- 
 acters are still living in New England. 
 
 The question is often asked, Does farming pay ? This 
 is not a fair question. Does any business pay? Does boat- 
 building, or soap-making, or carpentry pay ? The question 
 is not, Does farming pay, but, Can you make it pay ? This 
 is something I cannot answer, seeing I do not know you 
 personally. I know nothing of your education or capabili- 
 ties. Some men with the requisite skill and capital would 
 make a fortune out of the manufacture of wooden clothes- 
 pins. I could not. Whether you could or not is more than 
 I know. If you had a son you designed to put into mercan- 
 tile life, you would not ask, Does it pay, but, Will my son 
 make a successful merchant? 
 
 More and more attention has been turned to farming of 
 late years. Many are thinking of following the example of 
 myself and husband. For them I have but one word : 
 Be sure and farm 
 
 " WITH BRAINS, SIR." 
 

 
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