330 
<5ne  RURAL  NEW-YORKER 
February  2G,  191G. 
You  Are  as  Bi&  as  Your  Hands 
THE  world  takes  your  measure  ky  tire  work  you  do 
— Your  hands  are  your  tools — are  you  treating  them  fairly? 
There  is  no  more  economy  in 
a  makeshift  £,love  than  a  rusty 
plow  or  an  ax  with  shaky 
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HE  Champion  Guarantee  is  “ Absolute  satisfaction  to  the 
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write  your  own  guarantee  and  forward  it  for  our  signature. 
“ Absolute  satisfaction  to  the  user”  makes  you  the  judge  of 
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your  choice  of  three  remedies  Free  Repair,”  Replacement”  or 
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And  always  you  are  the  counsel,  judge  and  jury,  all  in 
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TRADE” 
The  Freedom  Suit 
(Concluded  from  page  292.) 
The  day  passed  off  pleasantly,  its  lec¬ 
tures  and  demonstrations  varied  by  a 
pleasant  basket  picnic.  There  was  one 
speaker  who  was  voted  rather  tedious  by 
a  good  many;  he  came  from  a  distant  ex¬ 
periment  station  to  give  an  analytic 
study  of  a  farming  community,  in  which 
a  mass  of  technical  terms  were  submerged 
iu  a  sea  of  decimals.  lie  called  liis  ad¬ 
dress  a  survey,  which  puzzled  Cora,  who 
associated  surveying  with  brisk  young 
men  who  went  tramping  over  the  fields 
with  steel  tape  and  plumb-bobs.  There 
was  something  about  his  talk,  however, 
that  impressed  Cora,  and  she  was  strug¬ 
gling  with  a  new  idea  even  while  the  au¬ 
dience  applauded  tumultuously  in  their 
relief  at  the  eud  of  the  speech. 
For  many  days  following  Cora  neglect¬ 
ed  her  filet  crochet,  and  was  busy,  in  her 
scanty  leisure,  making  elaborate  notes  on 
the  back  of  an  old  calendar. 
“Why  did  Ted  Hawes  go  to  work  as  a 
teamster  at  the  brickyard  down  the 
river?”  she  asked  Ase  one  day.  "Seems 
to  me  a  boy  with  a  good  home  might  do 
better  than  that.  And  Myrtle  Hawes 
works  in  a  collar  factory." 
‘‘Well,  Ted’s  father  wouldn’t  give  him 
regular  wages,  like  dad  pays  me.  I  sup¬ 
pose  Myrtle  was  crazy  to  get  to  the  city 
and  have  a  good  time,  like  lots  of  other 
girls.” 
Cora  looked  scornful;  what  Myrtle 
Hawes  told  her  about  the  collar  factory 
didn’t  sound  much  like  a  good  time.  Cora 
continued  to  make  notes,  and  finally  was 
discovered  one  wet  evening  copying  her 
notes,  in  her  best  library  hand,  on  some 
big  sheets  of  foolscap. 
"What's  all  your  writing  about,  daugh¬ 
ter?”  asked  her  father,  who  had  put  down 
his  newspaper  to  stroke  old  mother  cat. 
“Well,”  responded  Cora,  rather  hesi¬ 
tatingly,  “I've  been  making  a  survey  of 
Corinto  township.  You  remember  that 
professor  at  the  field  meeting  who  gave 
a  county  survey?” 
“lie  was  a  high-brow  for  fair — nearly 
put  me  to  sleep,”  observed  Ase  ^ tween 
bites  of  a  sweet  apple. 
"Well,  I’m  glad  Cora  listened  to  him 
if  you  didn’t,”  remarked  Mrs.  Linton,  who 
always  felt  that  she  was  missing  an  op¬ 
portunity  if  she  did  not.  listen  to  a  well- 
advertised  speaker,  no  matter  how  te¬ 
dious. 
“And  what  have  you  surveyed?”  asked 
her  father  cheerfully.  “The  Magrew 
girls’  bonnets,  or  the  posies  in  somebody’s 
garden ?” 
“Neither,”  said  Cora,  “I  call  mine  a 
home  labor  survey.  Maybe  you  would 
like  to  look  at  it  while  I  go  set  my 
sponge,”  and  Cora  escaped  to  the  kitchen, 
while  her  father  picked  up  the  manu¬ 
script.  When  Cora  returned,  after  set¬ 
ting  the  old-fashioned  bread  sponge  which 
always  made  her  long  for  a  newfangled 
bread-mixer,  her  cheeks  were  rather  red, 
but  she  took  up  her  crocheting  without 
remark.  Mr.  Linton  put  down  a  sheet 
and  said  irritably : 
“Why,  there’s  only  six  families  out  of 
twenty  where  the  girls  stayed  to  help  out 
at  home !” 
“That’s  how  I  figured  it,  only  I  couldn’t 
put  it  in  decimals,  like  the  professor  did," 
said  Cora  meekly. 
“Well,  what’s  the  matter  with  the 
girls?”  demanded  her  father.  "Here's 
Art  Magrew  stays  home  as  his  father’s 
partner,  while  the  girls  go  to  town,  and 
John  Tien  Magrew  has  to  pay  Jim  Beus- 
ner’s  step-daughter  two  dollars  a  week  to 
help.  Mis'  Magrew  ain't  real  rugged, 
’though  she's  such  a  steam  engine  to 
work.” 
“And  here's  Ben  Stillman  with  all  the 
children — the  whole  six  gone,”  remarked 
Mrs.  Linton.  “Abe’s  on  the  railroad,  and 
the  twins  working  for  the  telephone  com¬ 
pany,  and  the  married  one  is  the  only  one 
that  stayed  in  the  country.” 
“She  married  a  renter,  and  isn't  well 
fixed  ;  they’re  always  moving  and  haven’t 
much  stock,” -observed  Mr.  Linton.  “Still 
she’s  got  a  home,  and  I  suppose  her  sis¬ 
ters  have  to  live  in  cheap  boarding 
bouses.” 
“They’re  saving  to  go  into  the  chicken 
business  for  themselves,”  interjected  Cora. 
“They’re  going  to  take  a  short  course  m 
poultry  at  the  agricultural  college  when 
they  have  Summer  vacations.” 
“But  why  didn't  they  stay  on  the 
farm?”  began  Mr.  Linton.  Then  lie 
stopped  suddenly  with  a  recollection  if 
some  items  of  domestic  management  at 
the  Stillman  home.  He  picked  up  Cora's 
manuscript  again,  and  passed  on  to  (lie 
paragraph  relating  to  his  own  farm, 
There  appeared  Ase’s  name  as  employee 
at  stated  wages — Cora’s  name  was  fol¬ 
lowed  by  an  interrogation  point  Cora 
crocheted  meekly  as  her  father  put  the 
"survey"  down  without  comment,  and  be¬ 
gan  to  feel  rather  shabby,  poor  child,  as 
many  a  woman  does  during  the  transition 
period  of  some  economic  change.  Her 
father  took  up  a  newspaper,  then  laid  it 
down  and  began  to  go  over  Cora’s  "sur¬ 
vey"  once  more. 
"Hired  help  on  most  every  farm,"  he 
said  disgustedly,  “and  most  of  it  down¬ 
right  worthless  at  that!  And  farm  boys 
driving  delivery  wagons  and  handling 
freight!  And  the  girls!  What's  the 
sense  of  a  girl  that  the  farm  needs  doing 
work  that  could  be  done  just  as  well  by 
one  that  doesn't  know  a  chicken  from  a 
turkey?” 
“Well,  dad,”  said  Ase,  looking  shame¬ 
faced.  “I  always  thought  that  it  was  be¬ 
cause  girls  didn’t  have  any  too  much 
sense,  but  Cora's  making  me  get  a  notion 
tiiat  a  whole  raft  of  ’em  haveu’t  beeu 
getting  a  square  deal,”  and  Ase  clattered 
up  to  his  room  without  waiting  to  see  the 
result  of  his  revolutionary  sentiments. 
Prof.  McPheetei'R,  who  was  still  placid¬ 
ly  collecting  decimal  points  at  the  experi¬ 
ment  station,  never  knew  that  his  pon¬ 
derous  survey  not  only  changed  the  whole 
course  of  one  girl’s  life,  but  also  brought 
a  new  influence  into  the  entire  neighbor¬ 
hood.  Tt  was  several  days  later,  when 
Cora  began  to  feel  that  perhaps,  after  all, 
custom  was  right,  and  she  was  wrong, 
that  she  joined  her  father  at  the  calf  pen, 
to  offer  lit-r  help  in  caring  for  a  little 
orphan  Guernsey.  Cora  broke  the  fresh 
egg  that  was  to  be  administered  to  the 
poor  little  wobbly  creature,  and  as  she 
coaxed  it  with  the  touch  of  a  born  stock 
woman  her  father  said  scJdenly ; 
“Don't  seem  the  square  thing  to  pay  a 
girl  for  her  work  if  you  don’t  pay  her 
mother,  too.  And  how’d  I  ever  pay  your 
mother  all  she  earns?” 
“You  couldn't — not  if  you  could  give 
her  a  million  a  minute  and  her  board,” 
responded  Cora  with  conviction. 
“I  don’t  want  my  women  folks  to  be 
goin’  on  strike,”  continued  her  father  in 
a  joking  tone  that  was  rather  clumsily 
assumed.  “I  reckon  you’d  better  look  up 
that  mail  order  catalogue  and  pick  out 
your  freedom  suit.  And  when  I  take  that 
home  labor  survey  over  to  the  Grange 
meeting  my  girl  will  go  on  record  side  by 
side  with  her  brother — the  farm  pays  her 
wages  where  she  belongs,  instead  of  the 
shop  or  factory !” 
So  saying,  he  picked  up  the  calf  pail 
and  marched  off  to  the  straw.vard,  while 
Cora  gathered  eggs  and  consoled  one  lone¬ 
some  little  outcast  turkey,  feeling,  through 
it  all,  the  pride  of  the  worker  who  is  no 
longer  an  unrecognized  camp  follower, 
hilt  a  soldier  of  the  common  good. 
Soudan  Grass  and  Feterita 
As  to  whether  Sudan  grass  will  grow 
in  the  Atlantic  Coast  States,  last  year 
I  procured  a  sample  of  seed  and  sowed 
it  about  June  1  in  moderately  good  soil 
and  cultivated  it  both  ways  several  times. 
The  row  was  about  a  rod  long  and  it 
grew  from  five  to  six  feet  high.  It  ri¬ 
pened  about  October  1  and  when  I  cut  it 
I  had  two  large  sheaves.  I  could  not 
say  about  its  value  as  fodder,  as  I  sowed 
this  for  seed,  except  that  chickens  seem 
very  fond  of  the  seed. 
I  also  tried  some  feterita,  which  in 
looks  and  manner  of  growth  much  re¬ 
sembles  corn,  except  the  grain,  which  is 
produced  on  top  of  the  stalk  like  kaffir 
corn.  It.  grew  from  six  to  eight  feet 
high  and  cattle  were  very  fond  of  the 
stalks.  About  half  of  an  acre  of  white 
Sweet  c-lover  sown  about  April  1  on  grain 
field  grew  over  four  feet  high  and  gave 
good  results.  I  think  all  these  crops 
might  be  profitably  raised  in  Central  New 
Jersey.  bebtbam  c.  quick. 
New  Jersey. 
