“If we want eggs this winter we’d have to buy hens.”
“Maybe people will give us a few hens,” said Peggy hopefully. “Miss Betsy has a lot, and the Hortons’ farmer has millions; and the Thorntons have some, and so has Michael Farrell.”
“My dear little girl, people who are so fortunate as to have hens prize them more than if they had gold. You might as well expect me to give away my preserves and canned vegetables.”
Peggy was never tired of looking at the rows of jars of preserves and vegetables, and the tumblers of jelly that her mother had put up. The greater part of them had been sent away, and there was enough money in the bank from their sale to buy winter coats and hats for both of the children, besides something toward then coal.
Peggy went into the pantry for another look at the shelves. There was a pint jar of the precious strawberry preserve and four pints of raspberries and a dozen pints of cherries from their own tree, and there were a great many jars of blueberries and blackberries, and there was currant jelly and grape jelly. Peggy liked the rich color of the strawberries and raspberries and cherries next the more somber blueberries and blackberries.
The shelf where the vegetables were was almost more delightful in color. The green peas and beans were next the red tomatoes, and beyond them were a few jars of pale yellow corn. They had turnips and carrots and beets stored in the cellar, ready for use.
The children felt very important, and as if their mother could not have had the garden without their help. As she believed in profit-sharing, she paid them for part of their work, while some they did just to help the garden along. At the end of the season they had each earned nearly two dollars. Their mother made it quite two dollars and told them they could spend the money exactly as they pleased, provided they did not get anything to eat with it, like candy.
“You can each get a toy if you like—something that won’t break too easily; or you can get something to wear, or something growing—like a house plant.”
As usual, Alice knew exactly what she wanted most. It was a doll carriage, and she and Peggy went down to the store and chose it.
Peggy did not care for any of the toys. “I want something that’s alive,” she said, “like a canary-bird, or one of Miss Betsy’s hens. I think I’ll buy a hen—that will be most useful. If she laid an egg every day we could take turns in having a fresh egg.”