1898 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
HOPE FARM NOTES. 
Hope Farm.—I met a farmer at Geneva, N. Y., 
last week, who said in all seriousness: 
“ Is there really any such place as Hope Farm?” 
“ Why, yes,” said I, “ of course there is!” 
“ Well,” said he, “ some of our people don’t be¬ 
lieve it. One man says that they just hire some¬ 
body to write about it, but that there isn’t any 
such place at all.” 
“ Why, you don’t think our history is so won¬ 
derful that it cannot be true, do you ? ” 
“ That’s just it. What you do is just like what 
many of us are doing. One of my neighbors never 
would take an agricultural paper, but he says 
that, if this Hope Farm is real, he will take 
The R. N.-Y., for many of the things described 
there might be taken right out of his place. It is 
all well enough to have plenty of agriculture in 
our papers, but we must have som e farming, too. 
Our local paper has been running to war news 
almost entirely. I shall tell the editor that he 
can stop my paper unless he can have more about 
farming.” 
Real Farm Life.—Now I want to say to all 
such friends that, not only is Hope Farm a reality, 
but what I have to say from week to week is just 
as true a picture of our life indoors and out as I 
can write. We live on the farm all the year 
’round. We have a big family—10 in all—and 
Grandmother, the Madame, the Bud, the Graft 
and the two Scions are all here. The Bud is my 
own little girl (our only child), the Graft is a 
little waif of unknown parentage who has foui d 
a piace with us, and the Scions are our little 
niece and nephew whose parents cannot care 
for them just now. We live in an old-fashioned 
stone house—in simple, humble style as befits 
plain and every-day folks. We are busy all the 
time, and enjoy our home. 
Work and Doings.—In order to explain once 
for all, I will say that I go to New York every 
day, and do not claim to do much farm work my¬ 
self. My brother-in-law does most of the work. 
We have a form of partnership in which I pro¬ 
vide stock and tools and he provides labor. In a 
general way, I plan things and try to watch 
them closely. I want our friends to underst.and 
just what is meant whtn I say “ /” do so and so. 
Hope Farm has to pay for itself or run in debt 
like any other farm. Our farm is a small one— 
about 30 acres. It was fair soil originally, but 
has been dreadfully abused by tenants. We are 
trying to improve it at a reasonable cost, and 
have made good progress thus far. We have 
nothing worth bragging about in the way of 
stock or crops. Most people who come to see us 
appear to think that they have better things at 
home, and we never dispute it. Why should one 
write notes about such a common, ordinary place 
and family ? Are there not superior people and 
improved methods from whom our readers may 
learn more ? I have no doubt of it. I see them 
every day, yet it has always seemed to me that 
a good many of our agricultural writers are 
too wise and too nearly perfect in their methods 
to benefit the common people as they should. 
We need their thought and their help and their 
wisdom, but it struck me that one corner of The 
R. N.-Y. might well be given to the hopes and the 
troubles, the disappointments and the happiness 
that weave into the life of what we may call the 
average farm family. There must be two sights 
on every gun. Our wise friends give us the front 
sight, and Hope Farm may suggest the hind 
sight. Life has its shady side for all of us. It 
takes some thought to know what to leave out of 
a printed history. Hope Farm and its people 
are realities. If you honest and good-hearted 
men and women can read our notes and feel that 
you are doing better than we are, we shall not 
envy you. If, as you read them over, you feel 
that we have motives and desires in common with 
yours, we shall be glad. 
Rejected Crops.—I willjask some of you good 
folks to open your Bibles and read verse42 of the 
21st chapter of Matthew. There you will find 
these words: “The stone which the builders 
rejected, the same is become the head of the 
corner.” I have to think of these words every 
time I look at our sweet potatoes. I haven’t said 
much about them lately, for we had about given 
them up as nearly a total loss. Many of the 
plants died, and the boys lost interest in the 
crop. I had a great job to have the field kept 
clean. People scoffed at the idea of raising sweet 
potatoes north of New York city. The vines made 
a fair growth, but we lost interest in the crop, 
and eared for it in a half-hearted way at best. 
About the middle of September, I began to dig in 
the patch, and to my great surprise, I found 
sweet potatoes there as large as my fist, and of 
the finest color and flavor. We haven’t dug many 
yet, as we want to let the vines grow until they 
are killed by the frost, but there is surely a fair 
crop—enough to make us ashamed of ourselves 
for not taking care of it better. Sweet potatoes 
are werth 30 cents a peck at our place. If we 
had only had more faith in that crop ! It’s a 
good lesson to us. We have learned a good deal 
this year. 
The First Frost was a light one which struck 
us on the night of September 20. It did some 
damage on the lower ground. Down in the 
swamps, beautiful patches of red are to be seen 
where Jack Frost put his fingers on a bush here 
and there, and marked the leaves. One thing 
about this frost interested me greatly. Our farm 
drains into a swamp—with a shallow gulley or 
depression in the center. Along the bottom and 
sides of this depression, I find the cow peas 
frosted and dead, while on the upper land, only 
about 15 feet above, the vines are still green and 
thriving. It seems evident that the cold air rolled 
down to the swamp through this gulley about as 
water makes its way through the lowest channel. 
Of course, this is an old story to most people, but 
we do not often see such good evidence of it. 
A Dry Spell.—Up to September 23, we had no 
real soaking rain for 26 days. That is a long 
drought for land as dry as ours. The late cab¬ 
bage suffered, but the worst injury was done to 
Crimson clover. The seed of this started well, 
but the dry weather kept it down, and I really 
expected to lose most of the crop. A soaking 
rain on September 23 brought it up, and it seemed 
to double in size in 36 hours. What a responsive 
plant this is ! Give it the right conditions as re¬ 
gards water and food, and it will make a won¬ 
derful growth. I do not find it a tough, “hust¬ 
ling” plant like the cow pea. With us it needs 
nursing, and it pays to nurse it. I believe that 
it pays to feed a little nitrogen to both clover and 
cow peas. 
Crop Notes.—We have an excellent trade for 
turnips this year. The high prices for potatoes 
have made a greater demand for turnips, and 
our crop is bringing 50 cents a bushel. The white 
turnips were broadcasted after early peas. The 
yellow turnips were drilled. Both have grown 
well and promise a fair profit. Prices of sweet 
corn have been low for late varieties. We sold 
out a big load on September 24 at 60 cents per 100 
ears. Usually at this season such corn would 
easily bring $1. We have had corn on our own 
table since July 10, and are still eating it. We 
have cut up thousands of good ears for hog feed. 
We are selling second-sized potatoes at 35 cents 
a bushel. Few of them are as large as hen’s 
eggs. A good many families buy them at $1 a 
barrel and find them cheap food. Our bush 
fruits have made an excellent growth this Fall. 
The cow peas sown in the blackberries and rasp¬ 
berries after picking grew about one foot high 
before frost. Those put in the currants on July 
17 have made a full growth, and matured seeds. 
We use quite a little chicken manure on the cur¬ 
rants and this, I think, accounts for the extra 
growth of cow peas. A mere pinch of nitrogen 
seems to show itself on this crop. 
Old-Time Farming.—I have been talking with 
a man who, before the war, used to farm near 
wherejwe are. According to his statements, the 
Jersey farmer of those days must have been a 
prosperous man. He always had something to 
sell—berries, potatoes, hay, rye straw, steers,oa 
fat pig, cord wood—there was a good market for 
all he could raise. Buyers ran out to the farm to 
engage calves, steers, apples, hogs, or whatever 
the farm could supply. Potatoes brought $3 a 
barrel, straw $25 a ton, and so on for other things. 
Good, reliable farm help was easy to obtain. 
Farmers in those days could take a mixed load 
to market and bring back $75 obtained for it. In 
those days, farmers always had money on hand. 
They were honored and respected by townspeople. 
When there were railroads to be built or town or 
county bonds to be sold, farmers always came 
forward with their share of the investment. 
It Is Diii’erent Now.—Our farmers of to-day 
think the old-timers must have had an easy thing. 
We can raise a bushel of potatoes or a ton of hay 
cheaper than they could. Markets are twice as 
large as they were then, roads are better, tools 
are cheaper, and it is easier to ship. Crops, on 
the whole, are larger. In spite of this, the old. 
time farmer had the best of it. His taxes were 
lower. We are payiDgsums for schools and roads 
and bridges and other things that would have 
frightened him. He had no comjxetition. To-day 
we face competition from California to Florida. 
In his'day all the neighbors were Americans. In 
our day we face the competition of foreign labor 
—men who work *■ days, nights and Sundays.” 
Little towns have been carved out of the old farm 
lands. These are inhabited largely by “com¬ 
muters”—people who work in New York and hire 
some little house in a small town. They go 
and come every day—frequently carrying great 
baskets containing goods bought in town. These 
people are often glad to vote money for school or 
other purposes, of which farmers must pay a good 
share as taxes. It has become customary to 
sneer at the farmer and his work. One result of 
this is that it is next to impossible to obtain re¬ 
liable farm help. Thus our modern farmer, while 
producing his crop for less money than his father 
did, has lower prices, heavier expenses, twice as 
much competition, and less rank in social and 
business life. What to do about it? I do not 
know, but someday shall tell what I think about it. 
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