POTATO CULTUEE. 205 



potatoes out of the way that might be covered when they 

 came back, and, if 1 recollect, six men were picking the 

 potatoes up. I expected something of those potatoes that 

 had not seen a bug or a bit of blight ; and as they are on 

 upland, and rather sandy soil, they had kept right on grow- 

 ing almost into November. The yield was about 200 bushels 

 per acre, of the finest-looking' potatoes I ever saw spread out 

 in the field. I was astonished to find almost all of them of a 

 nice table size very few small ones, and almost no prongy 

 potatoes, or those with a little potato growing out at one 

 side. I suppose the variety and his method of management 

 had much to do with it. The ground was just loamy enough 

 so the potatoes tumbled out bright and clean and handsome. 

 I fell in love with them at once. Now, here is a point that I 

 want you to observe : When I came into the field every 

 thing was going on like clockwork, and those potatoes were 

 being deposited in his nice cellar in almost a steady stream ; 

 but, of course, I had to stop and ask questions. Pretty soon 

 the team stopped, and could not go on unless the " boss of 

 the ranch " gave directions. Perhaps I might as well tell 

 you that I got to bantering him for a carload of potatoes, 

 and, of course, he could not very well neglect a chance to 

 sell a carload, even before they were taken into the cellar. 

 But there were several details to be arranged about ship- 



Eing, furnishing boxes to put them in, etc.; and in a very 

 3W minutes the whole gang of workmen came to a stand- 

 still. The moral is, be careful how you bother a man when 

 he is bossing a job that requires half a dozen or more expert 

 helpers. I told him it was too bad, and so I made my visit 

 quite a hurried one. 



One thing that threw him out occasionally, was, they did 

 not have quite enough potato-boxes. I told you six men 

 were picking up potatoes. As fast as they get a load the 

 team comes around and the potatoes are set on the wagon, 

 and taken directly to the cellar. You can do this with a 

 crop of potatoes that are just ready to dig by the first ot 

 November. The air is cool then, the potatoes are cool, and 

 friend Fenn assures me that he piles them right into the 

 cellar, even four feet deep. Under such circumstances he 

 carries them through till the following May, or even up into 

 June, with scarcely a sprout and not a particle of wilting. 



Before I started for home we looked into the cellar, and 

 saw how he unloaded. An inclined plane made of strips ot 

 wood runs from the wagon clear down to the bottom ot tne 

 cellar. The bushel boxes are set on this inclined plane, on a 



