Mrs. Larry stared.
“Pounds?—I never weighed them.”
“But that’s the only honest way to sell potatoes. Big potatoes leave huge air holes in the basket that weigh nothing. Well, here are seven pounds for ten cents. The same quantity by measure would cost you at least fifteen cents. This head of cabbage at six cents would cost ten in your store; six bunches of beets here for ten cents, two bunches in your store. Two quarts of onions five cents, ten in your store. Three fine rutabagas for eight cents; I paid eight cents for one like these down-town. You can afford ten cents for delivery on a list like that.”
“I would save about thirty cents. Ten cents would go for delivery, ten for car fare—and my time—”
“Well, of course, you have not bought much, considering that you must have them delivered and you must pay car fare. Women like you from the distance must either buy in larger quantities or carry things home on the car.”
“Carry them!” exclaimed Mrs. Larry.
“Yes; women come here with old suit-cases and bags. Women with babies bring the babies in the carriages and fill the front with vegetables, etc. Mothers of older children use the little express wagons. They don’t spend ten cents for deliveries.”
“Do—do many ladies come here?”
“Say, if you want to see ladies marketing, you go over to the market under Queensboro Bridge to-morrow morning—early.”
Mrs. Larry laughed joyously over her recital that night.