However, there was no feeling of disappointment in Hiram Strong's mind--and this fact somewhat surprised him. He had been so attracted by the girl, and had wished in the beginning so much to be engaged by Mr. Bronson, that he had considered it a mighty disappointment when he had lost the Westerner's card.
However, his apathy in the matter was easily explained. He had taken hold of the work on the Atterson place. His plans were growing in his mind for the campaign before him. His interest was fastened upon the contract he had made with the old lady.
His hand was, literally now, "to the plow"--and he was not looking back.
He finished the piece that day, and likewise drew out some lime that he had bought at Scoville and spread it broadcast upon all the garden patch save that in which he intended to put potatoes.
Although it is an exploded doctrine that the application of lime to potato ground causes scab, it is a fact that it will aid in spreading the disease. Hiram was sure enough--because of the sheep-sorrel on the piece--that it all needed sweetening, but he decided against the lime at this time.
As soon as Hiram had drag-harrowed the piece he laid off two rowsdown the far end, as being less tempting to the straying hens, and planted early peas--the round-seeded variety, hardier than the wrinkled kinds. These pea-rows were thirty inches apart, and he dropped the peas by hand and planted them very thickly.
It doesn't pay to be niggardly with seed in putting in early peas, at any rate--the thicker they come up the better, and in these low bush varieties the thickly growing vines help support each other.
This garden piece--almost two acres--was oblong in shape. An acre is just about seventy paces square. Hiram's garden was seventy by a hundred and forty paces, or thereabout.
Therefore, the young farmer had two seventy-yard rows of peas, or over four hundred feet of drill. He planted two quarts of peas at a cost of seventy cents.
With ordinary fortune the crop should be much more than sufficient for the needs of the house while the peas were in a green state, for being a quick growing vegetable, they are soon past.
Hiram, however, proposed putting in a surplus of almost everything he planted in this big garden--especially of the early vegetables--for he believed that there would be a market for them in Scoville.
The ground was very cold yet, and snow flurries swept over the field every few days; but the peas were under cover and were off his mind; Hiram knew they would be ready to pop up above the surface just as soon as the warm weather came in earnest, and peas do not easily rot in the ground.
In two weeks, or when the weather was settled, he proposed planting other kinds of peas alongside these first two rows, so as to have a succession up to mid-summer.
Next the young farmer laid off his furrows for early potatoes. He had bought a sack of an extra-early variety, yet a potato that, if left in the ground the full length of the season, would make a good winter variety--a "long keeper."His potato rows he planned to have three feet apart, and he plowed the furrows twice, so as to have them clean and deep.
Henry Pollock happened to come by while he was doing this, andstopped to talk and watch Hiram. To tell the truth, Henry and his folks were more than a little interested in what the young farmer would do with the Atterson place.
Like other neighbors they doubted if the stranger knew as much about the practical work of farming as he claimed to know. "That feller from the city," the neighbors called Hiram behind his back, and that is an expression that completely condemns a man in the mind of the average countryman.
"What yer bein' so particular with them furrers for, Hiram?" asked Henry.
"If a job's worth doing at all, it's worth doing well, isn't it?" laughed the young farmer.
"We spread our manure broadcast--when we use any at all--for potatoes," said Henry, slowly. "Dad says if manure comes in contact with potatoes, they are apt to rot.""That seems to be a general opinion," replied Hiram. "And it may be so under certain conditions. For that reason I am going to make sure that not much of this fertilizer comes in direct contact with my seed.""How'll you do that?" "I'll show you," said Hiram.
Having run out his rows and covered the bottom of each furrow several inches deep with the manure, he ran his plow down one side of each furrow and turned the soil back upon the fertilizer, covering it and leaving a well pulverized seed bed for the potatoes to lie in.
"Well," said Henry, " that's a good wrinkle, too."Hiram had purchased some formalin, mixed it with water according to the Government expert's instructions, and from time to time soaked his seed potatoes two hours in the antiseptic bath. In the evening he brought them into the kitchen and they all--even Old Lem Camp--cut up the potatoes, leaving two or three good eyes in each piece.
"I'd ruther do this than peel 'em for the boarders," remarked Sister, looking at her deeply-stained fingers reflectively. "And then, nobody won't say nothin' about my hands to me when I'm passin' dishes at the table."The following day she helped Hiram drop the seed, and by night he had covered them by running his plow down the other side of the row andthen smoothed the potato plat with a home-made "board" in lieu of a land- roller.
It was the twentieth of March, and not a farmer in the locality had yet put in either potatoes, or peas. Some had not as yet plowed for early potatoes, and Henry Pollock warned Hiram that he was "rushing the season.""That may be," declared the young farmer to Mrs. Atterson. "But I believe the risk is worth taking. If we do get 'em good, we'll get 'em early and skim the cream of the local market. Now, you see!"
