"Ha, ha! I see the p'int. Have you looked into the root-cellar?"
"Yes; we opened the door and looked, but it was dark as a pocket."
"Well, I don't b'lieve in matches around a barn, but I'll show you something;" and he opened the door, struck a match, and, holding it aloft, revealed a heap of turnips, another of carrots, five barrels of potatoes, and three of apples. The children pounced upon the last with appetites sharpened by their morning's work.
"You see," resumed Mr. Jones, "these were here when old man Jamison died. If I hadn't sold the place I should have taken them out before long, and got rid of what I didn't want. Now you can have the lot at a low figure," which he named.
"I'll take them," I said, promptly.
"The carrots make it look like a gold-mine," cried Merton.
"Well, you're wise," resumed Mr. Jones. "You'll have to get a cow and a horse, and here's fodder for 'em handy. Perhaps I can pick 'em out for you, too, at the vandoo. You can go along, and if anything strikes your fancy I'll bid on it."
"O papa," cried the children, in chorus, "can we go with you to the vandoo?"
"Yes, I think so. When does the sale take place?"
"Next Tuesday. That's a good breed of potatoes. Jamison allus had the best of everything. They'll furnish you with seed, and supply your table till new ones come. I guess you could sell a barrel or so of apples at a rise."