“Well, Chase, you can’t most always sometimes tell what a boy is blushing about. Now, professor, Chase thinks he’s going to sell me a piece of land. It ain’t as big as Iceland, but it’s fair to middling big all the same. What shall I do with it?”
“Cut it up into farms, some small and some large, but about equal in value. Give the buyers a thirty-year amortization mortgage.”
“Professor, there ain’t much of it good for farming.”
“Then map it out for towns, and reforest. Don’t establish a single logging camp but what you can make it into a town. Run your railroads into the woods from your permanent centers, and bring your lumberjacks home every night.”
“Professor, I like you. Keep right on.”
“Well, Mr. Ferry, plan your villages carefully, but don’t insist that your villagers shall spend their money to please you. Let them build their own houses. Don’t tell them how much they are to spend on amusements, but see to it that good ones come their way.”
“All right, what else?”
“Don’t freight your iron down this river, but use it where it’s found. Do the same with copper.”
“I will. Chase can give that coaling station back to the seller. Anything else?”
“No.”