That very afternoon Mr. Jones, with his sharp steel plow, began to turn over clean, deep, even furrows; for we had selected the plot in view of the fact that it was not stony, as was the case with other portions of our little farm.

When at last the ground was plowed, he said:  “I wouldn’t harrow the part meant for corn till you are ready to plant it, say about the tenth of next month.  We’d better get the pertater ground ready and the rows furrowed out right off.  Early plantin’ is the best.  How much will ye give to ’em?”

“Half the plot,” I said.

“Why, Mr. Durham, that’s a big plantin’ for pertaters.”

“Well, I’ve a plan, and would like your opinion.  If I put Early Rose potatoes right in, when can I harvest them?”

“Say the last of July or early August, accordin’ to the season.”

“If we keep the ground clean and well worked the sod will then be decayed, won’t it?”

“Yes, nigh enough.  Ye want to grow turnips or fodder corn, I s’pose?”

“No, I want to set out strawberries.  I’ve read more about this fruit than any other, and, if the books are right, I can set strong plants on enriched ground early in August and get a good crop next June.  Won’t this pay better than planting next spring and waiting over two years from this time for a crop?”

“Of course it will, if you’re right.  I ain’t up on strawberries.”

“Well,” I continued, “it looks reasonable.  I shall have my young plants growing right here in my own garden.  Merton and I can take them up in the cool of the evening and in wet weather, and they won’t know they’ve been moved.  I propose to get these early potatoes out of the ground as soon as possible, even if I have to sell part of them before they are fully ripe; then have the ground plowed deep and marked out for strawberries, put all the fertilizers I can scrape together in the rows and set the plants as fast as possible.  I’ve read again and again that many growers regard this method as one of the best.”

“Well, you’re comin’ on for a beginner.  I’m kind o’ shy of book-plans, though.  But try it.  I’ll come over, as I used to when old man Jamison was here, and sit on the fence and make remarks.”

Planting an acre of potatoes was no light task for us, even after the ground was plowed and harrowed, and the furrows for the rows were marked out.  I also had to make a half-day’s journey to the city of Newtown to buy more seed, since the children’s appetites had greatly reduced the stock in the root-cellar.  For a few days we worked like beavers.  Even Winnie helped Merton to drop the seed; and in the evening we had regular potato-cutting “bees,” Junior coming over to aid us, and my wife and Mousie helping also.  Songs and stories enlivened these evening hours of labor.  Indeed, my wife and Mousie performed, during the day, a large part of this task, and they soon learned to cut the tubers skilfully.  I have since known this work to be done so carelessly that some pieces were cut without a single eye upon them.  Of course, in such cases there is nothing to grow.