XXI 



Enemies in the Field 



THOSE who live on the land develop a terrible patience. 

 You can see it in their hands. Even when they are dead, 

 like Sandburg's "Illinois Farmer," their hands continue to 

 remember the tools they have held, and the acres they have 

 plowed. 



Too, time in industry and time on the farm lie in different 

 dimensions. The factory worker's success or failure is recorded 

 every seven days in his pay envelope. The manufacturer reads 

 the market reports and the world news each morning and 

 speeds up or slows down production to keep pace with times 

 good or bad. When demands for goods pour in he has only 

 to turn to the employment agencies for hands to fill the orders. 

 When business slumps, he can turn men off; or he can use 

 his lathe and manpower in the manufacture of some other 

 commodity with which the market is not glutted. Part of his 

 capital is his ability to change. 



The business man, too, operates on a flexible system which, 

 ideally, permits him to vary his policy from month to month. 

 Thus he cautiously feels out each new step as he advances. 

 He can retreat from loss as agilely as a timid bather from 

 chilling water. 



But the farmer cannot speed up eighty acres of corn to catch 

 an upswing in the market. He cannot put on an extra shift to 

 bring harvest one day nearer. He cannot plow up his corn and 

 plant sugar beets on news of a revolution in Cuba. Since he 

 must operate on a three- or four-crop rotation system, he can- 

 not balance his books at the end of a fiscal year. He is com- 

 mitted to carry on the existing system for several years at least. 



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