Report of Missouri Farmer's' Week. 91 



RESPONSE TO ADDRESSES OF WELCOME ON BEHALF OF 

 STATE BOARD OF AGRICULTURE. 



(P. p. Lewis, President, Crescent, Mo.) 



It is a great pleasure to me to answer to the words of welcome 

 to the farmers of this old State this evening, and 

 I come here filled with a great deal of pride. I 

 remember as a boy, yea, as a young man, when 

 walking down the streets of the city in which I 

 lived, if recognized at all it was by the street 

 |K^^ gangs as you call them, in their remarks that 

 -^^B you have probably heard, with a finger of scorn 

 pointing to me and saying, 'There goes a hayseed. 



p. p. Lewis. Lqqj^ at him. He hasn't got the mud off his shoes." 



I have watched the development of the fine farms all over this 

 State of which I am so proud ; I have seen the steady growth of 

 the homes on the farm and the uplift of the farmers ; I have wit- 

 nessed these things which have made a greater State, and my heart 

 has been filled with pride. I have been made glad that I am a 

 farmer, but when I heard the humble plea of the mayor to furnish 

 him with eggs at something like a reasonable cost and meat that 

 was fit to eat, my heart melted. 



Fellow farmers, I want to say to you tonight that the welcom- 

 ing addresses that you have just heard are but the echoes of the 

 great harmony of voices all over this and other nations that are 

 calling to you. We amount to something in this grand march of 

 progress in the world. A few years ago, like the boy I mentioned, 

 we were not noticed, weren't appreciated, and we hardly knew our- 

 selves. We didn't appreciate ourselves and in being asked why the 

 boy left the farm, I have thought over the question carefully and I 

 thought the whole thing was this : He left because the farmer had 

 no respect for his occupation or calling, but since he has heard the 

 holy call he has lifted his head and looked the world in the face, 

 and his boy has been made glad by looking upon a new farmer. 



I remember the farm of years ago when the mother carried 

 water from the spring a hundred yards or more, and where she 

 milked an old poor cow, perhaps in a cold shed in the winter time, 

 or more often with the beast backed up in the corner of a rail 

 fence. Is there any wonder that the boy left that condition ? But 

 a change has come over the spirit of that kind of thing until the 

 mother, as she rightly deserves, is a very queen among women. 

 Oh, that my mother could have lived to see the day ! 



