The San Francisco call. [volume], April 02, 1910, Page 8, Image 7

About The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913

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8
A BOY'S POTATO FARM
iiv .iKSsiio mi. us iit;it.\i:sN
' ((i^> O you like my rbai stories best,
you, Bonnie Boy?"
"^"^ "Oh, yes, yes, a real one, Aunt
Bessie," chorused the Tour little nieces
and nephews. It was 'Bonnie Boy's
turn to choose the story. We sat to
gothor on . the hearth rug munching
popcorn, which Bonnie Boy and I hnd
scorched, our chocks preparing over
the coals in the open .fireplace. Sister
Nan calls that snappy, crackling, Jolly
open wood fire her chief extravagance,
hut we all love It so. Bonnie Boy and
I seem alwuys the ones to pop the
corn, or make the taffy. He Is 11, and
Bess, my namesake, is 9, and Rolph Is
6, and Baby May is }i, and I'm tho sum
of all their ages, . a« Bonnie discovered
one day. Ills real name is William.
He's the eldest and so is named for
his father. They used ; to -. call him
'Junior,' .but';tho boys at school short
ened that to . 'June,' which he said
sounded too , 'girlie,' so ho came to me
: about it. In his class were three other
Juniors,, and, 'I want a name for my
very, own,' he. said; so we concluded to
try Bonnie; Boy. That was what I'd
called him ever since- he came to us,
and everybody liked the idea.
\u0084" "His mates had shortened it to Bon,
, but that does very well, too.
; "Well,' then,", said I,' "since you prefer
a real story, suppose I tell you about
, I. John's potato patch?" ;
•-.;\u25a0'. ." 'Was it a. real John, and a really
. truly patch.""asked Rolph.
. ' '.'Yes, Rolph.. I've forgotten John's
v last name, but I went 18 miles on the
« boat- down the, river, to see the patch.
\u0084' . It's, on : an : island called: 'Savvies,' in
•'\u25a0.•\u25a0•. the Wiliamette river, In Oregon. You
! keep: real quiet,* and I'll begin , at the
beginning'; but first, if you want to,
May," you ; may climb over into 'my
\u25a0•_\u25a0•. lap.'-'-..- \u25a0 :\u25a0:, "\u25a0 . ' . - , ;, ' • :\u25a0\u25a0 ' '' Z •
, .."I had .called at the seed store for a
i; lot of things for; the ranch— seeds for
1 the: garden, .arid supplies for my dear
1 bee families, and one sack each of sev
eral new sorts of potatoes, for we were
1 not ; satisfied with" the variety we, had.
1 I explained ,to the salesman what I
1 wanted, and 'something of the soil; and
' general conditions at the ranch, and he
'. said, .'There,- now! I know the very
' .thing, for you. I bought them Just
' yesterday..* 'Como back in the ware
1 .:.,\u25a0 house and see them. There! Aren't
; those fine? Eighty-seven sacks in the
1 lot; and if you'll notice they're all
\ about the same size and the same
shape. Never did see a finer lot. And
! who do you think raised them? A boy,
not 12 years old yot! Owns his own
, farm, and does all the work himself,
,-.>> even makes the trade with me. Came
i in to see me about, them last fall, but
, his father : told me 'at the time he
i- should advise John to hold them over,
i as ibices, were likely to be better.
i That doesn't always happen, but this
i year potatoes are 'way up, and I was
i glad for the little fellow. This lot,
i though, would bring fancy prices any
\ time.' •
i "I asked the man a good many ques
i tionß. The. idea of so young a farmer
>\u25a0' interested me. Finally he said, 'Why
don't you go down and sco him? There
[ are all sorts of boats going, that way
all the time. You could make the trip
easily any day, and you'd \u25a0 enjoy It.
They'dllke to havo you, I know.' '
/'Well, kiddles, I went. For one
thing, any excuse for a trip on that
wonderful river is a good one to me;
. and then everything that salesman
told mo increased my interest in John,
and besides that I really wanted to
know all it was possible to learn about
• potato farming, and I , was sure from
" what I had seen of John'e crop that If
• there were any magic about it he had
discovered the secret.
"John was at school when I got
there, but his father seemed glad to
see me and told m*e about his part in
It.
" 'Yes ma'am, it is John's own farm,
an aero. I deeded it. to him. He's a
minor, I know, but I explained to a
lawyer what I wanted and he fixed it
up. Tho way it happened, you see,
John was little and pale, and It wor
ried me, and then it was always books,
books, books and nothing else with
him. I suppose if he had been strong
and always up to some mischief that
would have worried me, too. He gets
his love for books from his mother,
She Is dead, and somo way I hated to
deny them to him, but I wanted him
to be a farmer, and I waulod him
strong, I tried to keop him helping me
about all -the different kinds of farm
work I have to do, but I was always
afraid of being too hard on the llttlo
lad, and then one day I thought of
this. Thought I, now If ho owns his
own farm and manages just as he's
a mind to lie .will work better and
study better, bath. For don't you
think/ rna'atn, we all do more and feel
happier about it when we are working
for something — with uorne plan ana
i purpose before us all the time? I told
hint he whh to be my partner when
ue'd leacned the business; that mean
while it was all up to him; he knew
enough about several different crops
to choose what he'd like best. The
only thing I asked of him ivaa that
whatever ho chose he would ccc to It
THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SATURDAY, APRIL 2, 1910.— -TUg JUNIOR CALL
thut his returns, were the very, best of
thu kind. And say,, ma'am, -I'm', glad
you saw tlioao potatoes, bo you'll know
I'm not claiming excellence* for . them
Just because I'm proud of my. 'boy.
When it was time to dig them I told.,
him he must grade them and how; but
they didn't need to be graded. Seemed
like they were all one size and one'
shape, clear through the field. When
I spoke of "It he said, 'Why, yes, Dad,
they were bound to 6e that way. The
book said so. Said they'd follow the;
type of seed, and you know how
careful I was about that. Dad, for I*
bought the seed potatoes from you and
you let me select them, and -I was very
careful to do just as the book said.
And it said, you remember, that the
humps only camo when the ground
wasn't Hnely pulverized to a sufficient
doptli ho they had to. push against
clods and crowd v In anywhere and
everywhere they could to grow.' Then
I did remember he had read to me
quite a bit about different ideas when
,he llrat decided to ralso potatoes, but
I hadn't paid very close attention.
"What has done me the most good,
though, ma'am, has been the way he
has worked.- Before that, If he .were '
helping me I'd be half afraid of work
ing him too hard, ho would look so
dragged out and unhappy. Or if hq'd
leavu me and go fishing (that's the one
thing he likes as well or better than
a book), I'd bo worried -.over that. Jf
ho got up when I* did in the mornings
I'd be fretting for fear he didn't get
sleep enough, for a growing boy, and
I was afraid letting him Bleep Into
would make him lazy. I was getting
to liv v regular old grannie, 1 guess.
Hut say, .when he undertook farming
on his own hook I left all responsibil
ity to him. He'd get up when I did,
except sometimes on a rainy morning,
when I'd tell him to take another nap,
us it wouldn't make' extra trouble for
mo to call him in time for school. After
school I know ho could always bo found
in his potato patch, till I thought he
was overdoing it and would loaa
liis enthusiasm if he didn't vary it a
little, so wo talked it over and decided
on two fishing trips a week. I'd go
with, 'him one morning, and half of
Saturdays,' morning or afternoon,,
whichever he chose, he would go with
some of the 'boys.-. It has worked well.
The money is quite a sum for a boy
of his age to have fairly earned in a
year, outside of school time. I'm let-,
ting him invest it exactly as ho chooses.
He will learn the value of it better
that way. But the best thing of all Is
what it lias done for the boy, himself,
and for me. There he comes now. You
can see for yourself. Ho isn't exactly
what you'd call 'husky,' but he's a
'hustler,' which Is better, and I'm not
worrying any about him.'
"Did you see him? What did he look
like, Aunt Bess?" said Bonnie. And,
"What did lie tell you, Auntie?" said'
Itolph. And "Is he OO's boy, too?" said
Baby May.
"No, May-sweet; he's his dad's boy;
and he looks like him, too, Bess, but
I'd bo glad to have such a, boy for
mine. He lias blue eyes, and his hair
is a light sort of sunny brown, and
he isn't very much taller than Rolph
here, but he could throw you easily,
Bonnie Boy. No, not broad shouldered?
% think your Uncle Warren would ex
plain it by saying John is "ull there."
When he saw v stranger he didn't
either hung back or hurry, When his
father 'introduced us he offered his
hand with a kindly greeting, and when
I explained my visit lie smiled, and that
smilo as it (lilted across his fuce re
minded me, Besa, of your pansy bed
when a tiny breeze blows across it.
You know I told you that {a a song
without words, but If wo were trying
to tlnd words they would probably bd
'Praise God for a blessing.' John knew,
of course, that we had been talking of
him, and probably guessed what hi*
father had been, saying of the boy ho
loved and his work, uud that smile was
JiiHt made up of love and joy and pride
"110 told me lie choae potatoes for
one reason, because ho could do uvery
bit of the work hlniself; and, besides,
everybody used potatoes all the year
round, co the market ought to be pretty
good und steady, and then you oould
use the ground over and over, year
after year, for potatoes or onions with
out wearing It out, If you handle it
right — and I'm trying too," he said.
"I asked him to tell me all about It,
and he couldn't think of anything to
tell, but I explained the trouble Uncl«
Warron and I had . been having and
why I really wanted to know all he
could tell me, and he said: \u25a0
"'I think your trouble ""must be in
the Beed, and it is a good Idea for you
to try several kinds. I don't believe
you could find out for sure any other
way, though the college ; can help you
a good deal if you ask. The only
thing I consider real luck about my
success was that I happened to get
Just the right sort the very first try.
I worked for the rest of it. I wasn't
satisfied that land was ready till I
could plunge my arm down anywhere
in it, elbow deep, and the soft, fine
dirt would ripple in and till the hole
as I drew It out. Then in 'planting I
was so careful that I set' the potato
with the bloom endu p, to save them
the trouble of turning J ' over. Dad
caught me doing that, and how he
did laugh at me. He watched me
pretty close, but he let me .follow^my
own notions. I'm not sure he would
have told mo, even if I'd been wrong.
But about setting them just so, a. while
before that I had some way, happened
to pick up a potato 'just growing, and
had seen how the tops grow as straight
up as they can from that 6nd, while
roots are forming inside the old shell,
so it seemed to me it would save time;
to help them all I could. I had seen
how carefully bulbs of tulips had been
planted right side up, and a potato is
a bulb. . That is all that I did dif
ferent from what everybody else does.
We were carefulin choosing the time,
to plant. They are a late sort, you
know, but my books had told how
long under good conditions it took to
mature them, and I counted that many
days back on the calendar, and then
I took, off a week for good measure; ;
I wanted them, to be "made" before the •
fourth, because the dry weather begins
then, you know. Then I did something
else Dad laughed about, till 'I told him
why I thought of doing it. Nobody nor
any book said anything about it, but I
chose a sunny morning when I was
sure it would be a warm, warm day, for
planting. I furrowed out and dropped
in the potatoes all' over the field, not
covering them in a hurry. Then I
went all over, setting them up like I
told you, and along in the afternoon I
covered them all in, tight and sung. It
seemed to me lylntc there in that warm,
soft nest, under the sky and sun would
put courage into them for the struggle
to get out. again into the light, which
was what they had to do. That's all,
except what you know already. I'm
just a potato farmer and don't believe
I'll try. anything else for a few years.
I hope to learn about quito a lot of
things, but, as Dad says, I've plenty
of time, and it is a good idea uot to
begin anything else till I l ve learned
all about potatoes, don't you think?'
"Is that all? Oh, I wish we ,could
have a patch," said Rolph.
"A f baby like you!" said Bonnie.
"Now I could havo a patch, couldn't I,
Autftie Bess? Won't you ask Uncle
Warren if ho won't "just lend me, one
for vacation?"
"It wouldn't do, Bonnie," said I.
"But I'll tell you what we will do if
you like. I'll ask uncle to stake out a
half acre for you in the potato field,
and you can take it over and tend it all
yourself after school Is out, and you
shall have a share, whatever Undo
Warren says is fair, in the crop. For
you, Bess, I'll sot aside a plat of pre
pared ground in the onion field; it
won't be too late to transplant those
we thin out, and though you don't
fancy the idea you will Ilka It when you
get at it. We pinch back the tops und
trim back the roots, and first thing you
know thoße scraggy, discouraged, little
ragged rows are grown Into the-flnest
onions In the field. You know I'd like
to make a florist of you, by and by,
Buss, and the most important thing
he has to learn his pruning and
transplanting. You, Rolph, shall have
the first swarm I hive after May day
for your very own, and all the honey
they make this summer I will send to
mother Nan; but you will have to holp
me faithfully two hours every day."
"And Baby May, what can she do?"
asked Rolplf.
"Now, see here, Itolph, she has gone
to sleep,, and you needn't be trying to
Btart something. I don't know what
we will do for Uaby May, but we will
try to be fair, fihe is only 'half-past 2/
but do you children know what «ho
makes me remember? l;ong before I
married Uncle Warren his sisters and
I w«*ro friend*. Tho older Hister, Mary,
had two little bohs, 4 und C yi-ars old.
They lived about 20 miles out of the
city. One day Mary sent tho boys down
to Allie and me for the day, They camo
by tho 10:30 train In the morning with
a note saying, "Please keep Rob and
Ned v while; there's going to bo a
cyclone up here." B;» the 3 A "clock
train Allln sent them home wah an
other note, which read, "JMease send ua
the cyclone."