“Oh, Jimmy, please don’t interrupt my thought until I am quite through!” exclaimed Janet, reprovingly.
“I beg your pardon, Janet—I thought your train of thought was broken,” was Mrs. James’s amused reply.
“No, the most important part of the idea is coming: rows of figures! That’s what talks better than I can explain.” Then Janet spread out the sheet of paper upon which she had figured and explained each column of numerals—added, subtracted and multiplied; a few were divided to reach the desired results.
“Now, this column is what it costs to keep a cow, Jimmy. And this next column is what I can make by selling the milk. I based my computation on the minimum of twelve quarts of milk per day, which is really too little for a good cow, you know. Then the third column is what I can get for butter, cream and buttermilk. The skim-milk I shall have to give to the pigs, so I can’t sell that. But just look at the profit I can get out of one cow!” Janet watched Mrs. James’s expression eagerly to see the effect of that astounding fortune so plainly shown in the figures—on paper.
Before committing herself, Mrs. James took the paper and studied it. Then she remarked casually: “You forgot to jot down the initial cost of buying a cow, Janet. How can you count on the cost of fifteen dollars a month if you haven’t secured the cow?”
Janet’s face showed her chagrin. “That’s so! I forgot all about the cost of the cow. But she doesn’t cost very much, does she?”
“I am not sure what they cost today, because everything has advanced so outrageously. But I know that a good cow which is guaranteed to give twelve quarts of milk per day used to sell for a hundred dollars—before the war.”
“O-n-e H-U-N-D-R-E-D Dol-lars!” gasped Janet.
“That was back in 1913. I haven’t the least idea what one costs today.”
“Oh!” was all Janet said as she collapsed in the middle and drooped over in the chair.