206 My Little Farm 



of our market. Pig remained more reasonable, 

 but a little pig goes a long way with me in hot 

 weather. In short, I could not get meat, and I 

 did not think then that I could live without it. 



During the winter we had met the case mainly, 

 with chicken, the local product at the initial 

 price ; but chicken disappeared early in spring, 

 and we must either adapt ourselves to a " lower r 

 standard of living or live beyond our means. The 

 question of actual hunger could hardly arise on a 

 farm intelligently conducted, for there was always 

 something to eat, if only roast potatoes. We 

 decided to attempt a bill of fare as far as possible 

 out of our own products, at least for an experi- 

 ment, and the result is that, in search of a lower 

 standard of living, we have found a higher, at less 

 than half the cost. 



We had plenty of milk and cream, convertible 

 into butter, plenty of rhubarb, strawberries and 

 other garden stuff. I began breakfasting on 

 stewed rhubarb, followed with a new laid egg, a 

 cup of tea and a hot cake made with milk instead of 

 water which seems to be an ideal way of making 

 milk- a food. The mid-day meal starts on straw- 

 berries and cream, then a glass of milk, another 

 egg and another hot cake. Dinner was the great 

 terror. It was at seven. One evening at that 

 hour I found a smoking dish of oatmeal porridge 

 and looked it over. The housekeeper smiled, and 

 I did my best to follow her example. " You'll 

 like it better than you think," she said, and I set to 

 work, supported more by courage than conviction. 



