THE COMING FARMER. 53 



expensive around us here for any but wealthy men to in- 

 dulge in. 



Frankly turning our back, then, upon our old familiar 

 friend, the farmer of the past, let us turn to greet the coming 

 man for our purpose, — the farmer of the future. 



For certainly this vast city population at our doors, if it 

 occupies the land, creates, too, an enormous daily demand for 

 certain products of the land. If the ground is enhanced in 

 value, so are the vegetables which grow on it sold to more 

 advantage. To be sure, the far greater part of the agricult- 

 ural produce consumed in the city can be supplied more 

 cheaply from a distance. But experience seems to show that 

 there are some necessary luxuries, if you will pardon the 

 phrase, which are so much more prized fresh from the farm- 

 wagon than from the car, that they can bear the tax incident 

 to growing within an easy drive of the city. Take the pro- 

 fessional florist, for one case. The market-gardeners, es- 

 pecially the hot-bed gardeners, are another. Both of them 

 seem to derive a sufficient advantage from being- within 

 wagon-reach of the markets, to enable them to compete with 

 the rail-borne article. Many early vegetables, for instance, 

 are almost as rapidly spoiled by handling and keeping as 

 most fish are. Like oysters, they are best eaten alive. One 

 wants to stretch out one's hands, as it were, and pluck them 

 crisp and tender from the earth. But this nearness means 

 dear land, high taxes, and a big fixed capital to pay a profit 

 on. And the only way to meet the difficulty is to use but 

 little land. We must raise the largest possible crop on the 

 smallest possible space. For this only one thing is absolutely 

 necessary, — a cheap and plentiful supply of stimulating dress- 

 ing. Where shall we get it? Why, out of Boston harbor, 

 to be sure. Are we not yearly throwing half a million dol- 

 lars' worth of the very thing our market-gardeners most need 

 into its bosom? The ocean, which stretches frequent arms 

 through this dense population, occupying the space swept by 

 a radius of ten miles from the state house, is made a nuisance 

 and dangerous sewer by the foul and wasteful uses to which it 

 is subjected in this regard. But the difficulty of thus dispos- 

 ing of the sewage of the multitude destined to dwell in all 



