development of one thousand acres? The man with one or two acres 

 can be richer in flowers and birds and fruit and the love of nature than 

 the man with a thousand. The man with one acre comes in closer 

 harmony with the birds, and bees, and flowers, and all nature, because 

 these very things are his business, while the large landholder overlooks 

 all these finer things of life. 



It is folly to expect to bring forth a sustenance from a little land 

 without first having some training in this sanest of arts. You could 

 not go instantly into an artist's studio and paint pictures for a living, 

 or teach music without due preparation. You can learn the art of 

 living well on a little land in much less time than it takes to learn the 

 other arts, because it is the natural life of man, and what is natural is 

 easily learned. And one beauty about learning this art of living well 

 on a little land is that we are living in the fullest sense all the time we 

 are learning this art, instead of long, weary preparation as other 

 arts require. 



The most absorbing, the most interesting occupation in life is that 

 of building a home among trees, and flowers, and fresh vegetables out 

 under the open sky with sunshine poured over all. Whether you do it 

 directly with your own two hands or indirectly by earning money and 

 hiring it done, it is always the keenest of pleasures. 



To own a plot of land, to build a home with a fireside all your own, 

 to plant trees and flowers, and grow fresh vegetables, and feed hens, 

 and gather eggs, this in the end is the dream of men, whether rich or 

 poor. A quiet corner by a cheery fireside with nature's beauty and 

 abundance all around. 



How can we make these dreams come true? We have become so 

 accustomed to the artificial life of cities, with its hustle and bustle, 

 excitement and entertainment, glare and people, that we have over- 

 looked the quiet, even, peaceful, natural existence on the land, and 

 have failed to become proficient in this natural way of living out under 

 the open sky in the healthful fresh air. 



I speak from experience. I was born and raised on a sequestered 

 farm back in Indiana and grew up amid quiet, peaceful, natural 

 surroundings among poultry and pigeons, horses and cows, sheep and 

 hogs. I was on intimate terms with the cherry trees, apple trees and 

 pear trees. I reveled in strawberries, raspberries and blackberries. 

 I joyed in what mother called a "good garden," with its cabbage and 

 turnips, beets and radishes, onions and lettuce, and watermelons and 

 muskmelons, rich and juicy, and all the good things that go to produce 

 that good dinner that mother used to make. I loved this free, natural 

 life. I was healthy, and buoyant, and glad. 



Then there came a time when I must go "off" to school and become 

 educated, so they said. Then after a few years of college life there 

 came a state of restlessness so different from the natural even tenor of 

 farm life. I went to Chicago for a year, then to New York for two 

 years, and then across the continent to your own city of San Francisco 

 for a year, when I began to see the fallacy of an entire existence in 

 th'e .city. 



I very soon learned that all the city people who could afford it 

 spent the finest part of each year in the country and spent some of the 



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