The Prize is Not Always as Great as One Thinks

Chapter 3

3) A Humble Farm

Gerry was content. The family ceremonies, marching in the St. Michael parade, were over for the year and he was glad to be home. Over six feet tall and big in the shoulders, he too found marching in the parade and carrying the platform physically demanding as his cousin the Crown Prince had been so vociferous about. Reginald had surprised him with the vast amount of curse words he knew and then loudly used when they reached the gates of the Celebont Palace.

Gerry knew that his cousin was angrier each year about their duty to carry the statue of St Michael up the long hill, but he thought Reginald was resigned to the task and would continue his obligation until ascending to the throne. Though Reginald had looked very nearly completely red, having been pelted with near all of the tomatoes that the citizenry had thrown at them this year. Cause for anger but his royal outburst had been far from princely. Gerry once again chuckled over his fortune in having removed himself from the Capital of Steilenberg. Reginald though was unable to do that.

Back at home Gerry was now able to return to his cows and tend the needs of the farm. Blue eyed with sandy brown hair, he had photographed well for the local paper. Now he was out of his formal clothes, and the ancient uniform that he wore to march in the parade was put away. Even the patent leather shoes with gilt buckles were gone for another year and he wore his second favorite boots once more.

Gerry's father would hate that he had become a farmer, as Prince Reginald also did, never letting a chance pass to make a snide comment about it, but it was a good life. And the Grand Prince, for all that he was a dictator and did little for many, kept the prices on food stable. The prices so good that the farmers sold high enough that no farmer who put in a honest day’s labor would ever starve.

Farmers fed the cities and they were paid for it. Not that a farmer ever wanted all those riches that the city folk had. What would you do with them anyway? 

There was work in the cites such as making roads so that these new automobiles could ride on them.Crown Prince Reginald, said he had ordered a Mercedes that had 35 horsepower. When Gerry had ridden to Nantz for the train to Steilenberg he had used one horsepower. His mare Maggie was just fine to take him anywhere in the principality. Why look for trouble and try to find someone to sell you gasoline, or who could fix one of the tires. Any smith could shoe a horse. There wasn’t any place Gerry could think of nearby to purchase gasoline or fix a tire.

All Reginald and Athelstan could talk of was progress, and where the country should go once the old Grand Prince died and the shackles he placed on the principality were gone. The two did not know their own father well enough, Gerry was pretty sure. The Grand Prince was smart enough to have kept them and the country from folly for over thirty years. 

His two cousins chomped at the bit wanting to fight alongside the great powers of Germany or France. The last time Almondy had been in battle, sixty thousand men had gone to war and twelve thousand had not come back. The next war would be worse, and it would probably be fought right in the principality. The Germans wanted to kill the French and the French wanted to kill the Germans just as badly.

These countries could not see that peace was the best. They never would. 

Much simpler to like cows and milking them. There was a calm when you were in the rhythm of milking a cow. As long as you didn’t make the cow mad. And Gerry had the four sweetest cows this side of Splatz. They never gave him trouble. 

No, never. You sat on your stool, pulled on the teat and milk came out. Twice a day, and then you had it to take to market, the night before’s milking and that morning’s. Though that Henry Samuelson was very energetic and now was running a cart late morning to take the milk into town for sale, and in the evening as well. He only charged a penny a liter and that meant a better use of Gerry’s time for it saved him two hours a day, each day of making the trip into town.