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We found it somewhat like an Irish potato, and exceedingly good. The yam was roundish, and had a rough brown skin. It was very sweet and well- flavoured. The potato, we were surprised to find, was quite sweet and exceedingly palatable, as also were the plums; and, indeed, the pork and pigeon too, when we came to taste them.
The whole genus, however, is almost exclusively American, and the greater number of the species appeared to me to belong to the mountainous and temperate region of the tropics. I have already mentioned that the cultivation of this narcotic plant preceded the cultivation of the potato in Europe more than 120 or 140 years.
Alpine is the resting place of the bones of Jacob Hamblin, most noted of southwestern missionaries of his faith. In 1920 the County Agricultural Agent reported that only two farmers in the United States were growing the Moshannock potato, Frederick Hamblin at Alpine and Wallace H. Larson at Lakeside. In Western New Mexico
She should be disturbed by them soon enough when they found out that there was not more than half a potato apiece, and like enough, not that. Pretty business of Mr. Dyer, to take to giving away, when he had not more than enough to put into his own mouth, to say nothing of Jedidiah's! So she went on darning and thinking.
After immediately applying sweet oil, scrape the inside of a raw potato, and lay some of it on the place, securing it with a rag. In a short time put on fresh potato, and repeat this application very frequently. It will give immediate ease, and draw out the fire. Of course, if the burn is bad, it is best to send for a physician.
You dip your potato in the butter, and while you thus soften the deep-sea saltness of your herring, the rough flavour of the latter relishes and overcomes the unctuous dressing of your potato. I swear to you it is delicious! But where is our “braten,” the “roast,” in fact? Oh, thou unhappy Peter!
Mother wants some for dinner, and I want to show you children how to get them out of the ground. For we will soon be digging them to put away for winter." When Hal and Mab reached the potato part of the garden, which was the largest of all the plots, the children saw that many of the green vines were getting brown and withered. "Why, the vines are dying!" exclaimed Mab.
She wont eat potatoes not under no circumstances, because she thinks that in her last previous existence she was a potato herself. "I takes a squint at the lady. She has a kind of a round face with two or three chins that she don't actually need, and little knobby features. "'Well, I says, 'if I'm any judge, she ain't entirely recovered yet.
Bug himself and learn the truth from him." MRS. LADYBUG was determined to know the truth about Mr. P. Bug, the newcomer. And as soon as she had fully recovered from the rude blow that Peppery Polly Bumblebee dealt her, she set out for Farmer Green's garden and the potato patch. For some time Mrs. Ladybug flew back and forth above the potato vines.
I had truly sympathized with Cousin Egbert's bitter complaint: "They hand you a dab of something about the size of a watch-charm with two strings of potato." For the first time, then, the fish course in Red Gap was to be an event, an abundant portion of native fish with a lobster sauce which I had carried out to its highest power.
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