On the evening of this day I took the crates to the landing, and found a purchaser for my garden potatoes, at a dollar a bushel.  I also made arrangements at a summer boarding-house, whose proprietor agreed to take the largest of our spring chickens, our sweet corn, tomatoes, and some other vegetables, as we had them to spare.  Now that our income from raspberries was about to cease, it was essential to make the most of everything else on the place that would bring money, even if we had to deny ourselves.  It would not do for us to say, “We can use this or that ourselves.”  The question to be decided was, whether, if such a thing were sold, the proceeds would not go further toward our support than the things themselves.  If this should be true of sweet corn, Lima-beans, and even the melons on which the children had set their hearts, we must be chary of consuming them ourselves.  This I explained in such a way that all except Bobsey saw the wisdom of it, or, rather, the necessity.  As yet, Bobsey’s tendencies were those of a consumer, and not of a producer or saver.

Rollins and one or two others came the next day, and with Bagley’s help the corn was soon in the ground.

Then I set Bagley to work with the cart spreading upon the soil the barn-yard compost that had accumulated since spring.  There was not enough to cover all the ground, but that I could not help.  The large pile of compost that I had made near the poultry-house door could not be spared for this purpose, since it was destined for my August planting of strawberries.

Perhaps I may as well explain about these compost heaps now as at any other time.  I had watched their rapid growth with great satisfaction.  Some may dislike such homely details, but since the success of the farm and garden depend on them I shall not pass them over, leaving the fastidious reader to do this for himself.

It will be remembered that I had sought to prepare myself for country life by much reading and study during the previous winter.  I had early been impressed with the importance of obtaining and saving everything that would enrich the soil, and had been shown that increasing the manure-pile was the surest way to add to one’s bank account.  Therefore all rakings of leaves had been saved.  At odd times Merton and I had gone down to the creek with the cart and dug a quantity of rich black earth from near its bank.  One pile of this material had been placed near the stable door, and another at the entrance to the poultry-room in the basement of our vanished barn.  The cleanings of the horse-stable had been spread over a layer of this black soil.  When the layer of such cleanings was about a foot thick, spread evenly, another layer of earth covered all from sun and rain.  Thus I had secured a pile of compost which nearly top-dressed an acre for fodder corn.