"Hope you didn't drop a thousand or two this year, uncle?"
"Oh, no—not over fifty dollars."
"Then you got off easy."
"I shall do better next year. The potatoes already show signs of improvement."
"Good! I suppose you'll be growing 'em on, top of the ground soon. Then you won't have the bother of digging 'em, you know," went on the fun-loving boy innocently.
"Absurd, Thomas! But I shall have some very large varieties, I feel certain."
"Big as a watermelon?"
"Hardly, but"
"Big as a muskmelon, then?"
"Not exactly, but"
"About the size of a cocoanut, eh?"
"No! no! They will be as large as"
"I mean a little cocoanut," pleaded Tom, while Sam felt like laughing outright.
"Well, yes, a little cocoanut. You see"
"We saw some big potatoes in California, Uncle Randolph."
"Ah! Of what variety?"
"Cornus bustabus, or something like that. Sam, what was the name, do you know?"
"That must be something like it, Tom," grinned the youngest Rover.
