united front to the coal-owning railroads. To the student of social conditions, the figures in this connection are interesting. Before the strike of 1900, less than fifteen per cent of all the men and boys employed at the coal mines belonged to the Mine-Workers' Union. But when Mitch

ENTRANCE TO A COAL MINE.

all issued his call, more than 85 per cent of the total number laid down their tools. Thirty days before the great strike of 1902, the union leaders could count but 65 per cent of the workers in their ranks. When the fight came, ninety-five per cent went out at the drop of the hat, and

stayed out until the final award was paid.

Within twelve months of the settlement of the strike of 1902, nearly 75,000 members of the Mine-Workers' Union allowed their membership to lapse by non-payment of dues. But they can practically all be depended upon, to fol

low the command of the union leaders in an emergency. Selfish self-interest-if nothing else has taught them that a successful strike means larger wages and shorter hours of work. In that way, if in no other, these Huns and Slavs are slowly-very slowly-being educated up to American standards of living and of labor. And the public-the great patient publicpays the bills. The anthracite - owning coal railroads have, it is estimated, more than 10,000,000 tons of anthracite coal piled up alongside their tracks in the vicinity of the city of New York alone. It will be some months before these great corporations will begin to feel any severe strain.

But the public pays!

66

"M

ARTHA, Henry wants me to come out and see him this summer," said Uncle Ben as he took off his spectacles and folded up the letter. "He says us folks down here have only garden patches alongside of the Western farms."

"I don't know as to that, Benjamin, but those thousand-acre places must certainly be big. Why, one would reach. from the Corners way to Jenkins's cornlot on the creek, wouldn't it?"

"That, and more too. But I don't believe them Kansas folks are such great farmers. They may spread over lots of ground and not get so much out of it. If they can beat York State in growin' wheat and corn, they'll do well. Henry says they use steam engines out there for plowin'. Well, I guess our old team will do us for a spell yit. I believe, though, I will go out and see the boy. I haven't had a loafin' spell now for ten years, and I'd kind o' like to know how them Westerners do things, anyway."

And this is how it was that, a few weeks later, Uncle Ben alighted from the train and set foot for the first time on Kansas soil. As he was hustled off to Henry's farm behind the pair of sleekcoated bays, the old man had time to glance at the neat runabout, then at the

66

well-groomed young fellow beside him. Henry not only wore a collar and necktie, but had his coat on. Nor were his trousers stuck in his boot-tops. 'Pears to me you're not workin' very hard, Henry, but things look prosperous," observed the old man, with a sidelong glance.

"I don't, Uncle-with my hands. We do more farming with our brains out here, because we have to. But everything you see is paid for, and there's no mortgage on the place, either."

"How many acres did you say you had?"

"About a thousand."

"Whew! That would make ten of the old place. S'pose you got most of it in wheat?"

"This year we have about 800 acres. You see, I raise some hay-about fifty acres. Then there's a hundred-acre cornlot; and the rest is for pasture, a bit of a garden, and an orchard of as fine apple-trees as you ever saw in York State, I'll bet."

"A corn-lot as big as all my land. Well! Well! Don't see how you can do it."

"I'll take you around with me and let you find out for yourself."

The next day Uncle Ben was up bright

and early. He expected to see Henry in his farm "togs" this morning, but the young man looked just as spick and span as yesterday. He had merely put on a pair of heavier shoes and turned up the bottoms of his trousers. First, they went to see a field which was to be planted for a late crop.

"What's the fellow drivin' that wagon over it for?"

"That's not a wagon-that is a manure spreader. Instead of scattering it with a pitchfork as he goes along over the field, the man lets the manure scatter itself. As the horses move ahead, the stuff keeps working back upon a sort of drum or cylinder that revolves. The drum scatters it just as evenly as you shake the salt out of the salt-cellar."

"Hum. Saves time, don't it." "Should say it did. That machine does as much as a dozen men could do, and does it better. But wait until we get down to where they are cutting corn." Then Uncle Ben did whistle in earnest. Here were machines moving along the edge of the great cornfield just like the horse mower he used in his wheat patch. Projecting from the lower part of each was a long steel blade, which cut off every stalk just above the roots. As fast as each was cut, it was wrapped into a big bundle by a metallic arm which guided a cord around the stalks, tying the bundle mechanically. This contri

vance was actuated by a crank which the operator could turn with his right hand, while controlling his horses with the other.

"Great thing, ain't it?" said the young farmer. "Cuts the corn and shocks itall by horse power. Saves all the work we had to do with the corn knife. How my back used to ache when you were showing me how to shock on the old place! This is why a man can have a hundred or a thousand acres in corn out here."

"But it must be a job to husk it. Where can you get enough people to do it?"

Henry laughed. "You're thinking of the old-time husking bee and the red ear and pretty girl. Well, I'm sorry to say we're too new-fangled for that. Our husking bees are all run by steam power. We're going over to one of the corn barns now, and I'll show it to you."

Beside the door of the barn, was a curious-looking contrivance mounted on wheels, so that it could be moved from place to place like a wagon. From the front end, a pipe about the diameter of a heat pipe used in connection with the ordinary furnace projected into the barnloft. From the side extended a wooden trough in which an endless belt revolved. On the other side of the machine stood a wagon loaded with cornstalks just as harvested in the field. A man with a pitchfork was piling these upon the me

tallic table of the husker, from which they were pushed into a hopper. Here the stalks were forced over knives which not only cut off the ears, but stripped the husks from each ear. As fast as the stalks and husks were removed, they passed to the mouth of the pipe running into the barn-loft, and were blown through it by a revolving fan. The ears fell into another hopper, where the kernels were shelled from each and poured into a bag at the side of the machine, the empty cobs being carried off by the endless, conveyor in the wooden trough. A steam engine of about ten horse-power was belted to the sheller and husker, and operated it so rapidly that the two human feeders were continually at work.

"That's the sort of husking bee we have in Kansas," said Henry. "That machine does more than sixty people could do, yet it requires only an engineer and two men to feed it. You know now why Kansas has a corn-lot of over eight million acres, besides beating the rest of this great country of ours on wheat."

The next day, when they reached the scene of operations in the wheat field, the spectacle was one which made Uncle Ben gasp with astonishment. He counted the horses hitched to the ponderous apparatus that loomed up in the sea of waving grain. Ten, twenty-actually thirty-two-in the string. Apparently they were pulling a threshing machine with a reaper attached to its side; but where the field had been covered the stalks were still standing!

"You folks are certainly up to the times when it comes to corn growin', but I expect you have some big machines for wheat, too, don't you?"

"We'll have to put in a whole day where they're harvesting to show you that. One of my fields runs up against Charlie Sheldon's; but his is much bigger, and he uses what we call 'tractors.' My work is done by horse power."

"How do you tell where your wheat begins and his leaves off? I don't see any fences."

"Haven't had time to put 'em up yet. Too busy with the crops. But we fixed that. We just had each field surveyed, and we go by the stakes when we harvest."

"My, but they must be great patches." "One of Sheldon's is two miles in a straight line from one end to the other."

MACHINERY.

"That don't seem to cut very well," said the old man. "Must be a lot of waste."

"It's different from the harvesters you have East. Sometimes we leave the straw in the field if we are in a hurry, and just run a header over it; for if we want the straw, we can cut the stalks any time. What you see is a heading and threshing outfit. The header is just what it is called. It clips off the heads or tops containing the kernels. As fast as cut, they fall onto a moving belt, which carries them right into the thresher. As the thresher moves along, it threshes out the grain in the usual way and pours it into bags, so that all we have to do is to load the bags on wagons and take them right to the grain barn or to town. Just now, you know, wheat is up, and everybody is rushing it to market as fast as possible, so I am heading and threshing this