12 THE FARMER OF TO-MORROW 



money. There are too many consumers and 

 not enough producers. The farmer has got 

 hold of the gate receipts. I am glad I came." 



"Well, well," laughed the willow-bank 

 farmer as he looked Jerry over, "I remember 

 you as a little shaver. I bought this farm 

 from your father at ten dollars an acre. I 

 tried to worm out of the deal but the old man 

 held me to it." 



"I was born here," said Jeremiah, gazing 

 sentimentally at the willow-bank it did look 

 like home, after all. "I should like to buy the 

 farm back if it is for sale." 



Yes, this was the very quarter-section that 

 Jeremiah's grandfather drew out of the grab- 

 bag, back in the 'forties, when the West was 

 a magic carpet with a rainbow at one end, 

 when one had to hunt over five square miles 

 in this neighborhood to find a whole person, 

 excluding Indians not taxed. Yes, this was 

 the very spot where the old gentleman culti- 

 vated hogs with long legs as beasts of burden 

 to carry hams and bacon to market. (Later, 

 when railways came, they bred the legs down 

 to nubbins, for delicatessen.) Yes, this was 

 the very spot where less than thirty years ago 

 Jeremiah's father fed his corn to the stove, 



