EXPECTATION AND FAILURES.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 137, 11 June 1932, Page 2 (Supplement)

EXPECTATION AND FAILURES.

(By Thelma Millert, Orua Bay; afre 17.^

It began (the market garden idea) when Jim brought home, a shabby little booklet one night called "How to Make Money Easily?" There were, dozens of ways, so the book said, from "charing , :" to beekeeping, but I liked the idea of growing vegetables for sale and home use best of all. "Why," I said, "it'a us siiuplcas can be. .You just put in the seeds and plants and in a few weeks you have more, vegetables than can be used or sold." "Wonderful," said dad (who had tried, gardening before), "but are you sure that is all you do?" "Well, the book wiys: 'All who follow this pursuit will lind it not only a happy, healthy prospect, but an easy way to make ready money.' So what could be better?" said I. "It can't be wrong then, if the book sins so, can it';' , asked Jim, sarcastically. I* let this pass. Already I could imagine the wonderful times ahead, my garden flounslring and me selling my vegetHiiles qiiiMciy and at a price that was too good to be true. I could even see it 0.11 ill my miml's eye. I would have iill the vegetables ] could possibly plant in my plot., too. In the next few days 1 was very busy, scorning all family advice, when dad iuid Jim invaded my premises on Saturday afternoon. "But you plant things too close," persisted Jim. "I never planted marrows in rows before," said dad, in puzzlement. "Never mind that," I said. "It's my systematic nature which compels me to plant in rows." "Why did you plant your cabbage and cauliflowers all higgledy-piggledy, then?" inquired someone. "What's this?" aeked dad, pointing to « queer-looking structure made of sticks ill the middle of the garden. "Oh, that is for tomatoes," T explained, .obligingly. "I don't intend fo put sticks up like most lazy people do when they get big, so I've put the trellis up now, so they can begin climbing as soon as they come up. (food idea, isn't it?" "Kr, yes, quite brilliant," said dad, hiding a smile. "What else is there?" "Oh, lots," I replied. "Artichokes, Brussels sprouts, cauliflowers, radishes, parsnips, beans, onions, eschallots—" '"What! All here?" said dad dazedly, looking around him, "but there's only a few feet of ground here, uot enough to grow all those, I'm sure." "Yes there is," 1 contradicted my parent. "The book says; 'Gardeners, would be well advised to utilise all space where possible, , mid I'm being very careful. JS T ow, you wouldn't guess what I had here, would you?" T asked, pointing to a small (very small) plot with 12 sticks stuck all over it. ■ "Just sticks," promptly came from Jim. "There couldn't.be anything else." "You're wrong," I announced triumphantly. "There's radishes, potatoes, carrots, parsnipsj beetroot—er, etc.," I finished hurriedly, forgetting the rest. "H-in-in," observed dad, "quite a bruin. Wave indeed." That left me with an uneasy feeling that my garden wasn't going to be the brilliant success I had hoped it to be. In two weeks all the seeds were up and everything looked fine. I was rather worried as they grew, however. The tomatoes refused to grow tendrils to climb over the trellis provided for their benefit; the potatoes were out-growing the carrots, etc., that shared their pjot; the cabbages and cauliflowers looked rather spotty, too, but the marrows flourished exceedingly.

"Best potatoes, (id a lb," road the wireless announcer from the evening "Star" some nights later. "Onions. Ad; tomatoes, 1 Sd—" 1 heard no more. Why, I would dig my potatoes immediately. I should be quite rich when I had sold them all.

So next day I began digging up one green head after another, searching eagerly for the huge potatoes which I was aure were on the plants, but didn't seem to be. By this time I had dug up all niy t carrots, etc., that were growing there too.

Just then up came dad with a horrified "Good heavens! What on earth are you doing ?" "Digging my potatoes," I returned jauntily, pouncing ou a "marble." "B-but it's not time to dig them yet," he said gently, "not until the foliage dies off, you know." I fell back aghast. "B-but I'm sure—" I stammered hi dismay.

"Ha, ha! She's dug up all the pars nips and things, too," chuckled Jim.

■ And tlie end? Well, the tomatoes were .eaten by caterpillars, the marrow killed the peas, and I have had the unenviable task of buying vegetables each day for mother (potatoes at 7d a lb), and smile politely when people inquire after my vegetables. (

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