THE GARDEN AND ORCHARD 117 



turns out exactly as anticipated. Not invariably, 

 but with sufficient frequency to reduce the phe- 

 nomenon to the level of commonplace, the crops 

 most counted on turn out failures; whilst those of 

 which no more than a side dish is expected bur- 

 geon and bear with a vigor and fecundity that 

 nearly crowd one off the land. 



Take squash. I mean, you take squash; I am 

 fed to the teeth with it. Squash reminds me of the 

 story about my great-grandmother and the tea. 

 When the Tetlows came to America they settled 

 in South Jersey. My great-grandfather who was, 

 doubtless, as my mother says of all the Tetlows, "a 

 little crazy," had the misbegotten notion he could 

 make money farming in the pine barrens. The 

 drinking-water supply for the new homestead came 

 from a spring near the house. Upon occasion great- 

 grandfather complained that the tea was too strong. 

 Next day his wife made it weaker, but it was still 

 too strong. So the next day she made it still weaker, 

 with no better result. This kept on day after day 

 until finally came the day when she put no tea at 

 all in the pot. Great-grandfather made a terrific 

 row: the tea was still too strong. It turned out the 

 spring water came from a patch of swamp cedars, 

 and was itself the color of strong tea. 



Squash is like that. Starting ten years ago I 

 planted less and less of it year after year, and each 

 year harvested more and more squash. It is a vege- 



