“Sold! Where do you want them?”
“Take them to that car!” directed a man, hurriedly writing something on a piece of paper and giving it to the farmer.
“Mr. Watson has just sold his load of peaches,” explained Mr. Bobbsey. “Several buyers offered different prices for them, after seeing what fine fruit he had, and Mr. Watson sold to the man who would give him the most money. He will now put his peaches into a freight car and later they will be hauled by the engine to some distant city. There they will go to what is called a wholesale dealer. He has bought them here, through his agent or a commission man, as he is called. The wholesale man will sell them to stores and the stores will sell them to people who want a quart or a single basket. That is how the peach business is carried on.”
“When I grow up,” said Freddie, as he looked at all that was going on, “I guess I’ll be a peach-man instead of a fireman!”
“Oh, so you’ve changed your mind, have you?” laughed his father. Ever since he was a small lad Freddie had said, many times, that he was going to be a fireman. No toy pleased him more than a little engine or a hook and ladder truck. But now he seemed to have a different idea. “Well, we’ll see—when you grow up,” laughed his father.
They had lost sight of Mr. Watson now, but guessed, as was the fact, that he had gone to unload his truck load of peaches into the box car. Soon they saw him again, his truck empty, and he waved his hand to them and called:
“Back now for another load!”
“Good luck to you!” wished Mr. Bobbsey.
After remaining a little while longer to view the busy scenes in the peach market the Bobbsey twins were taken back to Hitchville, where they met their mother, who had finished her shopping.
“Well, did you have a good time?” she asked.