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“That’ll probably do for a start.”
    â€œFor a start.”
    â€œWell, you know there’s other things to make life easier. Hay loaders, tractor-built rakes and that.”
    â€œYes, and where’s all the money going to come from?”
    â€œBanks are getting better these days with loans, Harv.”
    â€œWhat’s a tractor go for?”
    â€œOh, fifteen hundred, give or take, for most all the little thirty-or-so horsepower tractors. They claim an extra acre of potatoes and a milk cow will keep up the payments.”
    â€œAnd what if the cow dies and the potatoes are worth nothing?”
    â€œAll part of farming, Harv. The whole thing’s nothing but a gamble; you know that.”
    â€œYeah, but there’s such a thing as going out on a limb.”
    â€œOh yeah, ain’t that the truth. They’re getting them, though, here and there. Seem happy enough with them. If they give us a decent road, it’ll be tempting.”
    â€œSeems to me that tractors are for people like Fred James. Gone big enough to afford things without tick, got their own warehouses by the track and buying and shipping to boot. Seems to me, somewhere along the way, the bills are going to pile up more than we can handle.”
    â€œAh, you’re too set in your ways, Harv. Progress, Harv, progress— can’t get in the way of progress. And that’s how it should be. There are people right now, small farmers like us, think we’re back in the stone age. The time for slaving and doing without is going to go.”
    The Old Man’s face broke into a wry smirk.
    â€œBut we have to get the road fixed up first.” John Cobly flashed his sardonic grin.
    â€œNo, first we’ll have to vote the right way, then we just might get the road. We just might.”
    There was a pause. John Cobly’s eyes shifted to me. “Well, Jake, feel like picking for me? I got work ’til Saturday depending on the weather. Feed you good, pay you on time, start you with a full section. Can’t handle that, we’ll give you a half. I’m a little short with them Cape Britoners gone.”
    â€œMight as well go ahead, Jake,” The Boss said. “We can look after the barn work. Make a few bucks for yourself.”
    â€œHe’s a little young,” Nanny said.
    â€œNah. It’ll make a man of him.”
    â€œOkay,” I said. “Give it a shot, anyway.”
    â€œThat’s the stuff,” John Cobly said. There was another pause.
    â€œHow’s your crop this year, John?” The Old Man said.
    â€œNot bad, kind of small. Yours?”
    â€œNot bad.”
    â€œWhat’s a bushel worth now?”
    â€œI heard thirty cents.”
    John shook his head. “Might as well leave them in the ground. What about beef?”
    â€œSeventeen cents.”
    â€œNot that hot, either, eh?” John Cobly took out a match and worked the head around in his ear again, then took it out and flicked off the residue with his thumb. I’ve got two steers and a heifer to go. Couple of cattle buyers were around last week. Told them to come back after digging; figured the price might be half decent by then. Don’t seem like a lot of hope.”
    â€œPork’s pretty good now,” The Old Man said. “There’s always something to prop things up. Sometimes I wonder if potatoes are worth bothering with, though. If you’re not digging, you’re grading and hauling, then you’re planting, then you’re roguing and spraying, then you’re back to digging again.”
    â€œShe’s year round, all right. That’s for sure. Lot of lifting and lugging, too. But nobody complains when the big prices hit. And they better hit me pretty soon.”
    â€œMaybe we should leave them alone altogether, like Dan.”
    John Cobly’s eyebrows shot up. “But Dan is a walking miracle, no matter which way you look at things. How he