338 A FARMER'S YEAR 



pay the labourer by assigning to him a certain share in the profits 

 of the business, he must have starved, for in most cases there have 

 been no profits. As it is, whatever may have happened to the 

 landlord and the farmer, even during the most evil days week by 

 week the labourer has received his wage. Of the three chief 

 interests connected with the soil, his interest has suffered least. 

 Should good times ever come again, he might be inclined to 

 consider co-operation, but I believe that at present his class would 

 scout the idea, unless indeed it was discussed upon the basis of a 

 minimum wage not to fall below that obtainable at present, plus 

 a percentage of possible profits. But would such an arrangement 

 be acceptable to the other people concerned ? I doubt it. 



In walking through the yard I noticed that on my farm at 

 any rate — and others complain of the same thing — the stacking 

 is now very inferior to what it used to be. Nearly every stack 

 leans this way or that, and is propped up with boughs of trees 

 and pieces of timber ; also they are roughly and untidily built. 

 The old skill, upon which he used to pride himself, seems to be 

 deserting the agricultural labourer. This is a fruit of the bad 

 times. When a craft becomes unremunerative, its followers cease 

 to take the same interest in their work, and all details that are not 

 absolutely necessary begin to be neglected. Moreover, skilful and 

 well-trained labourers are growing scarce. Only the old men 

 really understand their trade. For instance, all my best hands 

 those who can be trusted to plough or thatch, are over fifty years 

 of age. The pick of the young men are no longer brought up to 

 these occupations ; they crowd to the towns to seek a living there, 

 sometimes to succeed, sometimes to sink to misery or to the 

 earning of bread by hanging about the dockyard gates upon the 

 chance of a casual job. The labourer is leaving the land 

 principally, if not entirely, because the land can no longer pay 

 him what he considers a just reward for his toil. To me it 

 seems a sad and unnatural thing that those whom the soil bore, 

 and whose forefathers worked it from generation to generation, 

 should now be driven to find a home in the teeming ar\d unwhole- 



