THE POTATO AT HOME 313 



who was to come after him, he nothing said or did 

 on that memorable scene to cast a shadow on his 

 lustre or cause any lover then and in the ages to 

 follow to grieve at even a momentary weakness on 

 his part. 



All this served to make the potato so important 

 to me that when I stood among the plants, growing 

 higher than my knees, in their lush-green embossed 

 leaves and purple bloom, with a cloud of red and 

 black and yellow and orange and white butterflies 

 hovering about them, it seemed to me that America 

 had given the two greatest food-bearing plants to 

 the world maize and potato; and which was the 

 greatest I could not say, although the great maize- 

 plant was certainly the most beautiful in its green 

 dress and honey-coloured tresses, which the hot 

 sun would soon turn to gold and by and by to a 

 Venetian red of a tint which one sees but rarely 

 in his life, in the hair of some woman of almost 

 supernatural loveliness. 



The potato, then, as I have said before, was 

 very much to me. How natural, then, when I 

 came to England that I should have been shocked 

 at the sight of my first dish of potatoes on the 

 table. 



" Is this the way potatoes are cooked in this 

 country? " I asked in astonishment. 



"Why, yes; how else would you have them 

 cooked?" I was asked in return; and they too 

 were shocked when I said the sight of that sodden 

 mass of flavourless starch and water made me sick 



