On one occasion, on repeating this observation to my wife, she admitted having noticed the same remarkable fact, and added that she believed strawberries would continue to be eaten, even if each quart required a pound of sugar to sweeten it. She declared that for her part, she and the children intended to do so in future.
Now, although she was extravagantly fond of strawberries, and had brought up our children in the same faith, this threat did not alarm me, for I knew that hereafter our berries would cost me nothing, and that if they devoured them too freely, sugar included, a slight pain under the apron of some of them would be likely to moderate their infatuation. I then suggested to her, how would it do—whether it would not make our establishment immensely popular—if in selling my berries, when the crop came in next year, to announce to the public that we would throw the sugar in? She looked at me a moment, and must have suspected that I was quizzing her; for she got up and left the room, saying she must go into the kitchen, as she heard the tea-kettle boiling over. But though I waited a full half hour, yet she did not return.
The reader may have been all this time watching the condition of my purse. But he has not been so observant as myself. These plants did not cost me cash. I had intended to plant an acre or two to begin with. But after buying my peach-trees and raspberries, the nurseryman inquired if I did not intend to plant strawberries also, as he had a very large quantity which he would sell cheap. His saying that he had a very large lot, and that he would sell them cheap, seemed to imply that he found a difficulty in disposing of them. Besides, the selling season was pretty nearly over. I therefore fought shy, and merely inquired his terms. This led to a long colloquy between us, in the course of which I held off just in proportion as he became urgent. At last, believing that I was not disposed to buy, although I went there for that very purpose, he offered to sell me 60,000 plants for $120, and to take his money out of the proceeds of my first crop. This offer I considered fair enough, much better than I expected; and after having distinctly agreed that he should depend upon the crop, and not on me, for payment, and that if the coming season yielded nothing he should wait for the following one, I confessed to him that his persuasions had overcome me, and consented to the bargain.
In other words, I did not run in debt—I saved just that much of my capital, and could make a magnificent beginning with our favorite fruit. As I was leaving this liberal man, he observed to me:
“Well, I am glad you have taken this lot, as I was intending to plough them in to-morrow.”
“How is that?” I inquired, not exactly understanding his meaning.
“Oh,” said he, “I have so many now that I must have the ground for other purposes, and so meant to plough them under if you had not bought them.”
This was an entirely new wrinkle to me, and fully explained why he could afford to farm them out on the conditions referred to. Though a capital bargain for me, yet it was a still better one for him. What he was to receive was absolutely so much clear gain. But then, after all that has been said and written, is it not a truth that cannot be disputed, that no bargain can be pronounced a good one unless all the parties to it are in some way benefited?
Here, now, were six acres of ground pretty well crowded up, at least on paper. But the strawberries would never grow higher than six inches; the raspberries would be kept down to three or four feet, while the peaches would overtop all. Each would be certain to keep out of the other’s way. Then look at the succession. The strawberries would be in market first, the raspberries would follow, and then the peaches, for of the latter I had planted the earliest sorts; so that, unlike a farm devoted wholly to the raising of grain, which comes into market only once a year, I should have one cash-producing crop succeeding to another during most of the summer. On the remaining three acres I meant to raise something which would bring money in the autumn, so as to keep me flush all the time. You may say that this was reckoning my chickens before they were hatched; but you will please remember that thus far I have not even mentioned chickens, and I pray that you will be equally considerate. I know, at least I have some indistinct recollection of having heard that the proof of the pudding lay in the eating. But pray be patient, even credulous, until the aforesaid mythical pudding is served up. I am now cooking it, and you ought all to know that cooks must not be hurried. In good time it will come smoking on the table.