RAISING THINGS TO SELL

 chapter four 

RAISING THINGS TO SELL

RAISING THINGS TO SELL 

THE next time you complain about making a living in the United States, think of that little party of Pilgrims who landed at Plymouth Rock in 1620. Think of what they were up against. They had come to a new country, about which they knew very little, seeking religious freedom and an opportunity to prosper. The country to which they came had no currency. There was no government to guarantee their livelihood. There was no police force to protect their property. All they had was a lot of courage and as much ground as they required to raise the things they needed. And Mother Earth did not disappoint them. What they planted grew. The live stock which they brought from England multiplied. And by barter and trade, they laid the foundation of the New England Confederation—that group of states north of New Amsterdam which has since become known as New England. Any American who has a patch of ground, no matter if it be only the back yard of a city lot, is infinitely better off than his Pilgrim forbears. At least he has close at hand a market for what he raises. He has the benefit of a medium of exchange, so that he can sell the things he raises for money. He enjoys the security and protection of the armed forces of the state in which he lives. He does not have to get out of bed in the middle of the night to fight off marauding Indians. And if he can devise a way of raising things that are in demand, he can expand his activities until he has built up a large and profitable business. No other country of the world, unless possibly it might be Canada, offers such opportunities to the man who is not afraid of work and who has a desire to raise things to sell. Under our present complex system of living, however, it is important that careful consideration be given to what you raise. It is not just a matter of planting corn and potatoes, as it was in the days of the Pilgrim Fathers. Corn and potatoes may be a drug on the market in the community in which you live, so it might be much smarter for you to raise something else. What that something else ought to be depends upon a lot of things. It depends upon what you are best qualified to raise; it depends upon what you would enjoy raising; it depends upon the needs of the people to whom you must sell the things you raise, and upon what can most profitably be raised in the particular locality in which you operate. A widow in Victoria, British Columbia, made thousands of dollars raising tuberous begonia bulbs. She started raising the bulbs as a hobby in the back yard of her Victoria home. Today, she has a big business and the begonias are shipped all over the world. Much of her success was due to the mild climatic conditions of that part of Vancouver Island. It does not follow that you would be as successful in a community less favored by nature. In the same way there is a man in Florida who raises alligators for leather. He used to hunt them in the Everglades, but found he could make more money raising them. By raising them himself he was able to get skins of just the right age and size, which is quite important. This man has made a great deal of money raising gators. But in order to conduct such a business successfully you have to seek a locality which is favorable for the growing of alligators. An alligator farm would not go in Maine, but a mink farm might do amazingly well. So one of the first things to consider when you set out to raise something to sell is to fit your product to the climate. Then, too, give consideration to style changes. A chap in California spent a lot of money to start an ostrich farm. He made a great success of ostrich farming so far as raising the birds was concerned. But soon after he got things going well, ostrich plumes went out of style and he went broke. People who have not had much experience in raising things are inclined to look with favor upon various land development schemes. As a rule these are not practical. Some years ago a company was formed to plant and develop 7,000 acres of orange trees on Lake Pontchartrain, within the limits of the city of New Orleans. The land was cleared, drained, and planted in five-acre groves. They were sold to people of moderate means in the North. The development company undertook to plant the trees, and cultivate the groves until the trees reached bearing age, then they were to be taken over by the grove owner and personally operated. In theory the plan had many attractions. But it turned out to be a failure because the scale of operation was too big. When a freeze comes in a climate like New Orleans, an orange grower living on his land can get on the job and take precautions against the frost, either with oil heaters or smudge pots. It is an individual responsibility. There are today a number of small orange groves in lower Louisiana which produce remarkably fine oranges, but almost without exception the owners live on the groves and are in a position to go into action quickly upon the first frost warnings. While there have been instances where these development schemes have worked out successfully, as a rule it is much better to put your money in an improved place of your own rather than in a big scale development. The price of farm land is still low, but it is steadily increasing in value. Many business men are buying foreclosed farms as a hedge against inflation. If you are looking for a small place of your own on which to raise the things you intend to sell, you may find just what you are seeking from one of the insurance companies or land banks. Other things being equal, the man who is going to raise things to sell, and whose capital is limited, should get as close as possible to his market. 

He Cultivates Violas for the Market 

   IN TREE-STUDDED Lafayette Square, a spacious park a little over a mile from San Francisco’s business center, F. W. Davis’ hobby of viola growing has become a profitable business, a business which has unsuspected money making opportunities for all those who love flowers. The viola looks like a pansy except that instead of the pansy face thin dark rays spread out from a yellow center. A hundred years ago the Swiss viola found in the Alps was blended with the pansy bringing forth a blossom resembling both the violet and the pansy. Mr. Davis, a graduate of the Royal Horticultural Society of England, has been interested in flowers for sixty years—all his life. He has had charge of nurseries and chose viola raising as his hobby because of the opportunity it gave him to experiment and bring forth new creations in size, shape and color. For twenty-five years, while in charge of the Balboa Nurseries in San Francisco, he put all his spare time into the development and evolution of the viola. He finally had one that he thought worth while and when a sufficient supply was ready he took them to a leading florist. The viola was an immediate sensation. So instead of a hobbyist Mr. Davis became a commercial grower with a demand constantly exceeding the supply. He soon needed more ground and was fortunate in leasing the historic place up in the heights of Lafayette Square. While the park is owned by the city, the mansion and its grounds are still under private ownership. There are twenty-five plots four and one-half feet wide and from thirty to eighty feet long, tier upon tier, a solid acre of violas blending myriads of colors. As the cut flowers are ideal for decorative purposes the entire output is marketed to San Francisco florists. Some of the plants are sold but Mr. Davis makes no effort to sell them. At first people begged for a plant for their garden and cheerfully paid $5.00 for one. Prices now range from 50 cents up. Sixty varieties are under cultivation but the grower works continually on them and each year a new one is added. Getting new varieties is not exactly simple. It sometimes takes a thousand seedlings to produce one worth cultivating. To bring out a red one is Mr. Davis’ ambition. As a new variety appears a name suggests itself. A pure white with gold center, for instance, is called Shasta after the Shasta daisy, the Rainbow is radiantly colored, and one brownish purple is named Othello. Another purple suggests “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling,” and is naturally Colleen. Then there’s Cocktail; its browns and yellows indicate the reason. There was no backsliding in the viola business during the depression. Mr. Davis went right on selling all he and his daughter—his only assistant—could raise. Like anyone who has found his right work, he’s happy in it. A wiry, sparse, gray-haired man with a skin as bronzed as his khaki breeches, he conducts you through the grounds with quiet contentment. If you ask him whether he is kept busy, he answers: “Oh yes, I generally work ten hours a day and sometimes fifteen or twenty.”