Ned's Stroke of Business

"Ned's Stroke of Business" is a novella by Lucy Maud Montgomery that tells the story of Ned, a young man faced with the challenges of managing a struggling family farm. With an entrepreneurial spirit and a desire to turn things around, Ned navigates the complexities of agrarian life in the early 20th century, seeking innovative solutions to modernize the farm and secure his family's future. Through charming prose and vivid characterizations, Montgomery explores themes of resilience, ambition, and the importance of community support, illustrating how personal determination can lead to success against the odds.

• Short story

								
"Jump in, Ned; I can give you a lift if you're going my way." Mr.
Rogers reined up his prancing grey horse, and Ned Allen sprang lightly
into the comfortable cutter. The next minute they were flying down the
long, glistening road, rosy-white in the sunset splendour. The first
snow of the season had come, and the sleighing was, as Ned said,
"dandy."

"Going over to Windsor, I suppose," said Mr. Rogers, with a glance at
the skates that were hanging over Ned's shoulder.

"Yes, sir; all the Carleton boys are going over tonight. The moon is
out, and the ice is good. We have to go in a body, or the Windsor
fellows won't leave us alone. There's safety in numbers."

"Pretty hard lines when boys have to go six miles for a skate,"
commented Mr. Rogers.

"Well, it's that or nothing," laughed Ned. "There isn't a saucerful of
ice any nearer, except that small pond in Old Dutcher's field, behind
his barn. And you know Old Dutcher won't allow a boy to set foot
there. He says they would knock down his fences climbing over them,
and like as not set fire to his barn."

"Old Dutcher was always a crank," said Mr. Rogers, "and doubtless will
be to the end. By the way, I heard a rumour to the effect that you are
soon going to take a course at the business college in Trenton. I hope
it's true."

Ned's frank face clouded over. "I'm afraid not, sir. The truth is, I
guess Mother can't afford it. Of course, Aunt Ella has very kindly
offered to board me free for the term, but fees, books, and so on
would require at least fifty dollars. I don't expect to go."

"That's a pity. Can't you earn the necessary money yourself?"

Ned shook his head. "Not much chance for that in Carleton, Mr. Rogers.
I've cudgelled my brains for the past month trying to think of some
way, but in vain. Well, here is the crossroad, so I must get off.
Thank you for the drive, sir."

"Keep on thinking, Ned," advised Mr. Rogers, as the lad jumped out.
"Perhaps you'll hit on some plan yet to earn that money, and if you
do--well, it will prove that you have good stuff in you."

"I think it would," laughed Ned to himself, as he trudged away. "A
quiet little farming village in winter isn't exactly a promising field
for financial operations."

At Winterby Corners Ned found a crowd of boys waiting for him, and
soon paired off with his chum, Jim Slocum. Jim, as usual, was
grumbling because they had to go all the way to Windsor to skate.

"Like as not we'll get into a free fight with the Windsorites when we
get there, and be chevied off the ice," he complained.

The rivalry which existed between the Carleton and the Windsor boys
was bitter and of long standing.

"We ought to be able to hold our own tonight," said Ned. "There'll be
thirty of us there."

"If we could only get Old Dutcher to let us skate on his pond!" said
Jim. "It wouldn't hurt his old pond! And the ice is always splendid on
it. I'd give a lot if we could only go there."

Ned was silent. A sudden idea had come to him. He wondered if it were
feasible. "Anyhow, I'll try it," he said to himself. "I'll interview
Old Dutcher tomorrow."

The skating that night was not particularly successful. The small pond
at Windsor was crowded, the Windsor boys being out in force and,
although no positive disturbance arose, they contrived to make matters
unpleasant for the Carletonites, who tramped moodily homeward in no
very good humour, most of them declaring that, skating or no skating,
they would not go to Windsor again.

The next day Ned Allen went down to see Mr. Dutcher, or Old Dutcher,
as he was universally called in Carleton. Ned did not exactly look
forward to the interview with pleasure. Old Dutcher was a crank--there
was no getting around that fact. He had "good days" occasionally when,
for him, he was fairly affable, but they were few and far between, and
Ned had no reason to hope that this would be one. Old Dutcher was
unmarried, and his widowed sister kept house for him. This poor lady
had a decidedly lonely life of it, for Old Dutcher studiously
discouraged visitors. His passion for solitude was surpassed only by
his eagerness to make and save money. Although he was well-to-do, he
would wrangle over a cent, and was the terror of all who had ever had
dealings with him.

Fortunately for Ned and his project, this did turn out to be one of
Old Dutcher's good days. He had just concluded an advantageous bargain
with a Windsor cattle-dealer, and hence he received Ned with what, for
Old Dutcher, might be called absolute cordiality. Besides, although
Old Dutcher disliked all boys on principle, he disliked Ned less than
the rest because the boy had always treated him respectfully and had
never played any tricks on him on Hallowe'en or April Fool's Day.

"I've come down to see you on a little matter of business, Mr.
Dutcher," said Ned, boldly and promptly. It never did to beat about
the bush with Old Dutcher; you had to come straight to the point. "I
want to know if you will rent your pond behind the barn to me for a
skating-rink."

Old Dutcher's aspect was certainly not encouraging. "No, I won't. You
ought to know that. I never allow anyone to skate there. I ain't going
to have a parcel of whooping, yelling youngsters tearing over my
fences, disturbing my sleep at nights, and like as not setting fire to
my barns. No, sir! I ain't going to rent that pond for no
skating-rink."

Ned smothered a smile. "Just wait a moment, Mr. Dutcher," he said
respectfully. "I want you to hear my proposition before you refuse
definitely. First, I'll give you ten dollars for the rent of the pond;
then I'll see that there will be no running over your fields and
climbing your fences, no lighting of fire or matches about it, and no
'whooping and yelling' at nights. My rink will be open only from two
to six in the afternoon and from seven to ten in the evening. During
that time I shall always be at the pond to keep everything in order.
The skaters will come and go by the lane leading from the barn to the
road. I think that if you agree to my proposition, Mr. Dutcher, you
will not regret it."

"What's to prevent my running such a rink myself?" asked Old Dutcher
gruffly.

"It wouldn't pay you, Mr. Dutcher," answered Ned promptly. "The
Carleton boys wouldn't patronize a rink run by you."

Old Dutcher's eyes twinkled. It did not displease him to know that the
Carleton boys hated him. In fact, it seemed as if he rather liked it.

"Besides," went on Ned, "you couldn't afford the time. You couldn't be
on the pond for eight hours a day and until ten o'clock at night. I
can, as I've nothing else to do just now. If I had, I wouldn't have to
be trying to make money by a skating-rink."

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