CHAPTER V.

THE FARM AND FARM BUILDINGS.

"THERE is more difference between farmers than there is between farms," wrote a veteran agriculturist to his son, many years ago. That this statement is true the most superficial observer must admit. A poor farmer always has a poor farm, while a good farmer, in nearly all cases, will have a good farm in the end. The one begins in ignorance, and, as a rule, ends in disaster, while the other begins with a desire to learn, and forces success by persistency and increased intelligence. The successful farmer is the inquiring, intelligent, careful farmer. No matter if he knows but little outside his farm, he is always sure to know at least what pertains to its successful conduct. Usually such a person works hard, observes closely, and remembers his own and others' experiences. He is quick to perceive an advantage, and is always content with his calling.

Another class, greater in number, and usually found enjoying the blessings of life, are those who read, think, and make careful deductions. Their homes are filled with books and papers, and their evenings are spent in profitable and pleasant communion with the best thoughts of others, on general topics of information. This is the class of American citizens that make up that conservative element of society, alike valuable in times of peace and plenty, as in periods of trouble and distress. It may seem humiliating to other classes who assume superiority, but it is none the less true that these farmers are the final adjudicators of all legislation. Disciplined in the school of cause and effect, always seeking for legitimate results, their minds are peculiarly fitted to analyze and bring to light the ultimate bearing and final effect of measures, either material or economic. It is true, their conclusions are not rapidly matured, and in not a few instances have been deferred much longer than seemed necessary; but when once formed, they were a fiat against which nothing could prevail.

It is in the hands of this class of farmers, and its counterpart found in other branches of productive industry, that the future of this nation lies. And it is through them that the glory and perpetuity of this government must be secured. The grandeur of this republic is not reflected by a few mighty intellects, a certain number of immense cities, or here and there examples of vast accumulations of wealth. These serve only as objects of emulation or envy, and, in either case, may lead to vicious rivalry. The greatness of our country, and the results of its free institutions, are disclosed in the thousands of happy farm homes, and their millions of intelligent, conservative, and industrious inhabitants.

The careless observer is often led to look with wonder upon the rapid advancement in the arts and sciences, during the century, and fall into the error of consenting that it is the greatest of all. The railroad, the steamship, the telegraph and telephone, are considered the acme of intellectual research and, without farther inquiry, placed at the head of all modern improvements. Such conclusions are erroneous, and will not bear the test of candid reflection. During the last three-quarters of a century, there has been going on, among the agricultural portion of our people, a silent but constant evolution that is truly wonderful in its extent. Dotted here and there, over hill and valley, across the boundless prairie, and among the mountains and sterile portions of our country, can be seen the dwellings of the farmers. These men are industriously plying their vocation; nature is being successfully combated at every point, and forced to yield fruit and products for the feeding and clothing of the nation. The very elements even are made to serve them in beneficial capacities, not in their regular sphere. This pursuit is so intelligently, manfully, and successfully carried on that the idea must honestly obtain among the thoughtful, and find expression through honest convictions, that the American farmer is the finished product of the nineteenth century.

This conclusion may seem unwarranted, but the proof is abundant and at hand. For example, it has taken greater skill, required more persistent effort, and a much larger outlay of time and money, to evolve from the kinds of farm stock known and used at the beginning of the present century, the magnifi

cent specimens now seen on every hand, than it did to perfect the present system of railways. It has taken brains and business aptitude to accomplish this, as well as to build up the greatest of modern improvements. Then why should the calling of the farmer be considered as conducive to a lower order of intelligence, or as being barren of intellectual results? Such conclusions are wanting, both in common sense and a proper conception of human effort, and disclose a prejudice equalled only by its folly, and the ultimate harm that it may produce. "But," says one, "the life of a farmer is isolated, and he is of necessity prevented from sharing in the benefits of society." While this is true to some extent, he has the more time for study and reflection, which are the natural adjuncts to a higher and better education. That modernized society is not a promoter of these conditions, no one should dispute.

The

Considered from every point, a proper system of agriculture, with just and reasonable remuneration, will afford better opportunities for educational advancement to the man of business than any other calling. Men in such conditions, if they so elect, can enjoy a continued intellectual growth that is denied any other class that labors in production or exchange. danger which threatens to prevent such results lies in the farmer's becoming negligent, of his getting into the habit of delaying investigation for a more convenient time, thereby losing interest and falling into the rear ranks of his fellows. Again, constant toil, which brings no adequate reward, or which brings a burden of debt that labor will not remove, resulting from unkindly laws or a want of business judgment, does not conspire to add pleasures to farm life, but does drive men to the cities.

A careful, intelligent farmer, under proper and equitable economic conditions, is the most independent, self-reliant, and conservative man of all classes or professions. The curse of agriculture, at the present time, is the assumed superiority of other occupations. It is this that is drawing the sons and daughters of the farmers to the cities and villages. It is a desire. to exchange the coarse boot for the patent leather shoe, the coarse woollen for the smooth broadcloth, and the discolored, horny hands of the farm for the soft, white ones of the city. It is this fetish, this unreasonable desire, that drains the country

and burdens the city. Such people forget that less than three out of each hundred business men succeed. They little dream of the ceaseless, brain-racking, nerve-destroying labor that awaits the one who plunges into the whirlpool of modern business. The impecunious, briefless lawyer; the half-starved, patientless doctor; the churchless preacher; and the tramping mechanic, seem to make no impression upon the calculations or intentions of the man or boy who has become dissatisfied with farm life — some succeed, but it is the exception and not the rule.

It is unnecessary and quite impossible to give anything but general advice upon the subject of farm duties. It might be well to say that the judgment of the farmer should always be supported by an intelligent consideration of all the surrounding circumstances and conditions. With this rule for a guide, a failure must be a matter of accident. The farm itself should be purchased with judgment, its numerous adjuncts and its condition considered with care, and its labor applied and directed with intelligence and discretion. While the profits of agriculture, under favorable conditions, are quite sure, they are never large enough to warrant the taking of many risks; hence conservatism is usually wise and generally brings better results. To this end, and for this purpose, the farmer should seek for the best information, which is only found in the recorded experiences of others.

Apart from any question of economy or interest, I would strongly urge every man who finds it possible for him to do so, and who means to end his days on a farm, to buy his land. Let the farm be smaller, and even less convenient than he could. hire; let him go in debt, if necessary; but I deem him to be a happier man who owns a small place, even with a mortgage for his shadow, than he who, with better facilities for his daily occupations, and better conveniences for his daily life, has hanging before his eyes the fact that some day, when he is older and less able to commence farming again, he must resign his improvements to his landlord, turn his keys on his home, and pitch his tent in strange fields. The question of economy, however, cannot be set aside. There are many farmers who aim to see how much money can be obtained from the land to invest in bonds and mortgages; but every man who means to take a broader

view of farming, and recognizes the fact that the most substantial part of the returns of his labor and of his outlay consists in better buildings, better soil, and better stock, will see a sufficient reason for wishing to become the owner of the fee of his farm.

In the other transactions of life, where the principle holds good that anything is worth what it will bring in the market, business men invest money with a view to the chances of its return, at any time when they shall choose to sell. In farming, the principle does not hold good; at least, not with regard to the farm itself. It is better that the question of selling be not at all considered, for a valuable farm is always a very difficult thing to sell, and rarely brings as much as it is worth. There are persons who speculate in farms, who buy worn out land at a low price, and, after improving it, sell it at a high price. They often make money by the operation, and they generally do good. They are a useful class of enterprising men, but they are not the kind of men I have in my mind now, men who intend to follow farming as a permanent occupation, who have made up their minds that it is the thing to do, and who regard it not so much as an enterprise as a living. To such I say, buy your farm judiciously and, of course, as cheaply as you can. Make up your

mind whether it will suit you, before you buy, and, having bought it, don't entertain the idea of selling it, nor consider the money you invest in improvements in the light of the sellingvalue they will add to the farm, so much as with reference to the annual return they will bring in convenience, economy, or fertility. In short, consider your farm as a part of yourself, and let it "grow with your growth, and strengthen with your strength." You will find your yearly advantage in so doing.

The first thing to be decided is, whether to remain in well settled parts of the country, or to emigrate to virgin land. In the latter case, the question should be; How far will large crops and lighter work compensate for want of good schools, good society, and good home markets? In the former case, the question should be; How far will the social, educational, and commercial advantages make up for the poorer quality of the soil? The far West, with its newer and more fertile lands, is very tempting to one class of men, and the older settled parts of the