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"Let me have a bushel, then, at a dollar and a half," bade Mr. Adams, with satisfaction. "That's not an unreasonable price, is it, Charley!" "We don't sell by the bushel; I quoted you the price by the pound," explained the potato merchant. "What!" gasped Charley's father, again astounded. "You don't mean a dollar and a half a pound?" "You bet," smiled the merchant.
For six persons, select a piece of meat off the neck, about two and one-half pounds; add three quarts of water, an onion, one celery root, two carrots, a large potato, some parsley, three tomatoes and the giblets of poultry. Cook in a closely covered kettle, letting the soup simmer for four or five hours. Remove every bit of scum that rises.
He knows how to obtain bumblebees' honey, paying for this information with an ear like a garnet potato, one of the sort that "biles up meller;" and he knows how to find mushrooms. He brings this treasure home. He inverts the mushroom-cups in a clean frying-pan, fills each one with butter and a pinch of salt, cooks them gently a few minutes dishes them.
"How would it do," said Mary Erskine, going on, however, all the time with her spinning, "for me to have to give you two potatoes to roast in your oven? or one? One potato will be enough punishment for such a little disobedience." "No; two," said Mary Bell. "Well, two," said Mary Erskine. "You may go and get them in a pail out in the stoop.
There were no gardens, for beyond the narrow centre of the ravine only sage-brush and cactus would grow. But the mines thrived, and also grew and thrived the little city and its vices. Gradually a better class of buildings appeared. What were called hotels began to flourish; but it was long before the monotony of bacon, bread, and dried apples was varied by a potato.
I can I can eat a potato from a stick without it going round; that'll prove it. Have you got a roasted potato?" "No, and I wouldn't give one to a feller that steals automobiles either," said Peter. "I got a signal and I stopped you." "I know all about signalling and you didn't get one either," Pee-wee shouted in desperation; "I know all about everything about scouting.
He stuck two cinders into it for eyes, scraped a nose and mouth, and loved it. He sat upon it during the day, for fear it should be taken from him, but in the dark he took it out and played with it. He was often hungry, but he never ate that potato. When he died it rolled out of the corner, and was swept into the ashes. Then it came down here. "'What a sad story! I exclaimed.
It was late that afternoon that Lucinda, looking as if she had been accidentally overtaken by a road-roller, joined Joshua in the potato cellar. "Well, the sky c’n fall whenever it likes now!" she said, sitting down on an empty barrel with a resigned sigh. "That’s a comfort to know," said Joshua. "She’s got it all made up for ’em to marry each other."
Why, when I was holding a slate in order that they might write upon it, I minded the scratching no more than a clock a-ticking, they had made me that careless of their hocus-pocus. A voice in my ear can't make me start, and nothing, absolutely nothing, can now 'rouse my fell of hair. You put a potato in the ashes of the hearth and it will ultimately pop into something to eat.
Thinking it was a pebble, he stooped to pick it up, but was surprised to see that it was no longer there. However, he went on working, when he struck another hard potato, and his hoe again flashed.
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