THE STRAWBERRY AUGUST 1907 



Mollie, he said. He got to sendin' berries 

 away to Cleveland an' Columbus, an' even 

 as fur as Toledo an' Detroit. We used 

 to set before Urner's store and laugh to 

 see him goin' by with his little one-horse 

 load o' truck, an' say things about a feller 

 that would spend his time with such stufF 

 when he might a-ben haulin' away two- 

 horse loads o' wheat or oats or wool, an' 

 be a-gittin' something worth while. 



"Charlie didn't seem to worry much. 

 T'wasn't his natur' to worry. No man 

 who's willin' to spend his hull time on 

 seven acres, an' hire a lot o' girls an' boys 

 to pick berries, instid o' raisin' crops that 

 need men to work in 'em, is likely to worry 

 much about what his neighbors think of 

 him. 



"Charlie kep' a-workin' his garden 

 patch; his children growed up an' went 

 to school, an' alius seemed to have enough 

 to eat, an' Charlie and Mollie dressed as 

 well as if they had plenty o' money. How 

 he ever got money enough to send his boys 

 an' girls away to school I don't, for the 

 life of me, see; but he managed it some- 

 how. 



"He went to the state fair every year 

 an' went to picnics an' farmers' institutes 

 an' actually seemed to git money to keep 

 a-goin'. 



"Durin' this time Charlie's father died. 

 He'd worked hard for his money an' he 

 didn't want it wasted, so he willed Char- 

 lie's share to him endurin' his lifetime an' 

 then it was to go to the children. 



"Then Charlie showed he had some 

 grit. He never touched a cent of the ol' 

 man's money an' it's laid at intrust ever 

 sence, waitin' for the children. Charlie's 

 a queer feller. I wish't I could manage 

 like he can. He's got a purty place, if 

 a feller jest wants to look at a place. He's 

 built a big house an' keeps a fine team an' 

 puts on a good deal o' style. They's one 

 advantage in triflin' awiy time like he an' 

 Mollie has. They don't seem to grow 

 old a mite. I was a-sayin' the other day 

 that Mollie and Charlie don't seem much 

 oKler'n they did ten year ago. 



"Then Charlie hasn't done so badly, 

 after all," I said, as the old man paused. 



"They've lived," he answered noncom- 

 mittally. "Yes, they've lived an' got along 

 somehow; but jest think of a man spendin' 

 his time that way!" 



My old friend opened his hard-palmed 

 right hand and looked at it; turned it over 

 and looked at the knotty knuckles, con- 

 templatively. 



'I've worked all my life, he said, 

 "an' I've done right well. I've dug a 

 farm out o' them hills, an' I guess I've got 

 about as much as most of 'em round our 

 neck o' woods. Sometimes I think things 

 is evened up in this life. I've got more 

 money than Charlie, I guess — though no 

 one knows much about his business — but 

 he's had a better time than I have. 

 Charlie's queer." 



"I would like to see him once more," 



I said, with sudden access of homesickness 

 for the old days. 



"He's around the grounds somewhere," 

 said my old friend, and presently we parted. 



Going down through the sweet-smell- 

 ing fruit hall, later in the day, I met them 

 — Charlie and Mollie James Little 

 Mollie fair as ever, matured into a woman 

 good to see. Charlie ruddy, straight, 

 rounded out some, and not quite as slim 

 of waist as I had known him, bu: Charlie, 

 without a doubt. 



I walked up to him and laid my hand 

 on his shoulder. He turned to look at 

 me and for a minute there was no look of 

 recognition in his eyes. Slowly I saw the 

 light of memory rise. From his eyes it 

 spread over his face and he grasped me by 

 the hand. 



"Mollie, don't you know him?" he 

 cried. "Don't you know what loafers we 

 used to be yonder in Harrison county.? 

 I'd have known you in Guinea. I hear 

 your raising birds, the bird called the 

 chicken. Saw your name in a premium 

 list and wondered if you were just as no 

 account as you used to be. 



"Just the same," I declared. "Too lazy 

 to work, so took up the poultry business. 

 I hear you've never reformed and have been 

 wasting your time on strawberries and 

 things." 



"Let's get out o' here where we can 

 talk," he said. "It seems good to see 

 you once more. 



We found a shaded place down near 

 the Grant cabin, and I asked him how he 

 had been doing. 



"First rate," he said. "Mollie and I 

 took to raising strawberries when we 

 first married. It used to be great fun to 

 have father lecture me and to hear what 

 the neighbors were saying. I concluded 

 that I'd show them a thing or two. I 

 went to live on the little Sanger place — 

 you remember it — down there in the cor- 

 ner by the creek. It had laid fallow for 

 so many years that the soil was just ach- 

 ing to get a chance at a berry crop. F'ather 

 didn't seem to take to my notions and I 

 had to go slow at first, but I kept pegging 

 away and pulling ahead a little every year. 

 Mollie helped me and it wasn't long until 

 we got a trade started. The thing just grew 

 of itself. First I sold in the town then I 

 tried sending a few berries away. 1 never 

 offered a berry for sale that was not per- 

 fect, and it got so a box of my berries 

 would sell no matter how many others 

 were on the market. It wasn't five years 

 until I was making more money out of 

 that seven-acre lot than father and the 

 boys were making on the farm. 



"At first I tried to talk about my busi- 

 ness to the neighbors, but they seemed to 

 think it a waste of time, and finally I got 

 tired and said nothing, but kept right on 

 raising more berries and more to the square 

 foot. 



"Say, it's worth while to watch a lot of 

 strawberries grow and know your ac- 

 quainted with every plant in the row. 



lage 174 



First comes a blossom and then the berry 

 begins to round out and get important and 

 swell up. Every day you can see it grow, 

 and before long it begins to get red on one 

 side and, the first thing you know, it is 

 the best thing that ever grew out of the 

 ground. 



"One year I had a full acre of one kind 

 and I got eight thousand boxes of berries 

 from it. Two boxes to the square foot, 

 and those two boxes sold for twenty cents, 

 although it was the best year for berries I 

 ever knew. When I figured up what I'd 

 got off that acre I couldn't help going out 

 and giving a whoop." 



"I know," I said, "I felt that way once 

 when every egg in my incubator hatched, 

 but I didn't dare tell any one about it for 

 fear they would think I was lying. It 

 used to make me feel sad only to be able 

 to say I had a fine hatch that time." 



"Same way with me," chuckled Char- 

 lie. "If I'd gone out and told about that 

 acre of strawberries my credit would have 

 been ruined; but it was good to be able 

 to know that I'd got more money for that 

 single acre of strawberries than any farmer 

 in the county could make from forty acres 

 of farm crops. I had just as much clear 

 money, too, besides keeping about all the 

 boys and girls in the neighborhood out of 

 mischief while they were picking the 

 berries, and giving them a chance to earn 

 money besides. Money didn't use to be 

 plenty among the boys and girls, you re- 

 member." 



Didn't I.? An old-fashioned copper cent 

 was a competence in those days, and the 

 boy who got hold of a half-dime had 

 money beyond the dreams of avarice. 



"Funny, isn't it," said Charlie, "how 

 one can raise crops that pay as well as 

 strawberries do without converting a single 

 one of his neighbors to his way of thinking.? 

 I've been raising berries for twenty years 

 and making money all the time. We've 

 lived well, the children are in good schools 

 and not one of the neighbors has ever 

 raised enough berries for his own family. 

 Some of them think I starve Mollie and 

 the kids. Others think raising berries is 

 too insignificant a work for a real man, 

 and the good Lord knows what others 

 think. 



"Even father never got to the point of 

 thinking I was doing anything worth while. 

 He left my share of the estate to the kids 

 and I've never touched it, as I haven't 

 needed it. I've shown that a little farm 

 well tilled is enough. Raising berries is 

 not exactly a work for invalids and old 

 men, but it does not make a man grow 

 old before his time." 



"Suppose everybody would begin to 

 raise berries," I suggested. 



"That's been put up to me a hundred 

 times," said Chariie. There is no danger 

 that everybody will raise berries, and if 

 they did I woidd raise them bigger and 

 sweeter than any one else could, and sell 

 mine the first thing in the morning while 



