I know that the last few pages have nothing to do with "the money we made" by our farm, but I wish to show the reader all the advantages which a country residence possess over a town one. Some persons, who cannot live without excitement, think that nothing can compensate for the want of amusement and society.
I was once speaking of the pleasure I experienced from residing in the country, and placed health among its many advantages, when I was answered, "It is better to die in London than live in the country!"
I think I have said enough to cause my lady readers to wish that the time may not be far distant when they may, like ourselves,—for we did all sorts of "odd jobs" in our garden,—cut their own asparagus, and assist in gathering their own peas.
It is indeed impossible to over-estimate the value of a kitchen-garden in a large family which numbers many children among its members.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE MONEY WE MADE.
Some time ago we showed our first six months' accounts to a friend, who was very sceptical as to the profit we always told him we made by our farming. After he had looked over our figures, he said,—
"Well! And after all, what have you made by your butter-making, pig-killing, and fowl-slaughtering?"
"What have we made?" said I, indignantly. "Why, don't you see that, from July to January, we realized a profit of $9 50 from our cows, $11 12 from our pigs, $9 67 from our poultry-yard, and $45 at the least from our kitchen-garden, which, altogether, amounts to no less a sum than $145 29; and all this in our 'salad-days, when we were green in judgment?' What shall we not make now that we have more stock, our ground well cropped, and, better still, have gained so much experience?"
"Well," said our friend, "the more 'stock,' as you call it, you have, the more money you will lose."