Vol. LXII1. No. 2834. 
NEW YORK, MAY 21, 1904. 
$1 PER YEAR. 
THE WOMAN'S FARM WORK . 
That “Strenuous Day " Discussed. 
On page SOI we printed one of the prize essays, in which 
a woman described her lively day in kitchen and hay- 
field. There has been a lively discussion as to what a 
woman on the farm should do as her share of the necessary 
labor. As usual, The R. N.-Y. is prepared to give a full 
discussion of this question. We print here a story of 
pioneer work and two comments from widely separated 
parts of the country. The views forcibly expressed by our 
correspondents from Virginia and New Hampshire are worthy 
of careful attention and doubtless voice the opinions of 
many others. 
An Irrigated Farm in Colorado. 
Almost 14 years ago my father took a homestead 
claim under the “Bob Creek Ditch” in Otero Co., Col.; 
he was then living near Wilde, in Powers Co. In July 
he moved his family, consisting of my mother and 
brother, and house, furniture, tools and stock to the.new 
claim. The house was cut into sections, loaded on 
wagons and hauled 30 miles to the nearest railway sta¬ 
tion, which was Lamar; then taken from the wagons, 
loaded on flat cars and shipped to Catlins (Manzanola 
now), and loaded on wagons again for a 
trip across the sandy plains in the hot 
sun eight miles, then the heavy pieces were 
unloaded and put together in the shape ot 
a house again. You may know that this 
was not play when the thermometer reg¬ 
istered more than 100 degrees in the 
shade. There had never been any irriga¬ 
tion water through the ditch at this time, 
but a heavy rain shortly after they arrived 
brought water down it. The cellar, which 
they had begun to dig, was almost as hard 
as brick to dig out, but they ran some of 
the rain water in and had no further trou¬ 
ble. Now this same cellar is too damp all 
of the time from the effect of irrigation 
nearby My father had quite a bunch of 
cattle, and after the water in the water 
holes failed he had to drive them to the 
Arkansas River, a distance of about four 
miles. For drinking water they had to 
haul in barrels from a well on Bob Creek, 
about six miles away, and pay so much a 
barrel! This was to help pay for the 
pump in the well, etc. 
My mother was at this time about 63, a 
New England woman of the old Puritan 
stock. She was born in Vermont, and 
loved trees, flowers and green grass; you can imagine 
how desolate this prairie seemed to her, nearly always 
of that grayish brown tint. Her nearest neighbor was a 
mile away, and sometimes she did not see a woman’s 
face for months. Father and my brother, who was 30 
years old when the claim was taken, did all they could 
to improve the place. Father bought a water right and 
land was broken up and seeded to Alfalfa. In the 
meantime they had to live, so Mother turned her atten¬ 
tion to poultry and butter-making, as they had a good 
many cows and a good demand for butter. She had no 
conveniences, so had to do everything the hardest way, 
settling muddy ditch water, cooling it over night so it 
would cool the butter in the morning when it was 
churned; always washing pans, pails and churn. The 
result of this overwork was that she was taken so sick 
that the doctor called from 20 miles away (the nearest 
doctor) said she could not possibly live with pulse and 
temperature so high and mind deranged from the prog¬ 
ress of the disease; however, she lived in spite of lack 
of proper care and doctor’s prediction. I, her only 
daughter, was at that time far away in the State of 
Washington, almost frantic at the news from home, 
but unable to go home from lack of funds, and a little 
year-old baby to care for prevented me earning any 
money. Mother always had a garden and through her 
influence, trees and shrubs were set out, and her flower 
garden was the best for miles. I came home in 1892 
and know of many ups and downs since then. One 
year they lost $500 from cholera among their hogs. An¬ 
other year my brother put in melons and raised beautiful 
ones, but those he shipped he received very little for, 
owing partly to unscrupulous commission men. 
My Father now has a place (the claim) with a right 
and a half (120 acres) of river water, and a right and 
a half of Twin Lake water on it. It was proved up 
long ago and is one of the best Alfalfa farms in the 
Valley. My dear Mother crossed the dark river very 
peacefully about three years ago. A woman of strong 
faith, 1 think she was glad to go. Colorado owes more 
to such women than she realizes. In conclusion, I would 
say that anyone who proves up a claim in this State 
earns it. I have a homestead at the present time and 
have no water for it. I keep bees, teach school and do 
a little of everything for a living. I have a boy nearly 
14 years old who helps a great deal; he was born in 
this county and thinks this is the only life worth living. 
I was brought up in Iowa, and think that a grand State, 
but do not think I would ever be satisfied east of Colo¬ 
rado. This is a free life, although a hard one in many 
respects. One must work and plan to make a success 
anywhere, and this is no exception. F. H. R. 
Must the Farmer's Wife Drudge. 
The farmer’s wife may be just as healthy, happy and 
well informed as her city sister, though her life must 
be very different. If the “Woman’s Strenuous Day in 
The R. N.-Y. is typical of Northern New York, I am 
thankful I live in “the backwoods” of New Hampshire. 
Here, too, it is very hard to get farm laborers; but the 
women think they have enough to do in the house. It 
is seldom that even girls go into the field to work, and 
few, indeed, are the women who know how to milk. 
When I was in school one of my teachers warned me of 
my fate: “When you marry a farmer and have to get up 
at four and work until 10, you’ll know what work is.” 
Such advice and such illustrations as that given in the 
article referred to are enough to keep any girl from the 
farm; but I think farm life may be very pleasant. To 
be sure, one is more closely confined at home, and has 
more work to do than in a town, for most of us have 
hired men in our families and have many dairy utensils 
to clean. Though my husband is in the seed potato 
business he also has a milk and sweet cream route, so 1 
find that the milk dishes take a good deal of time. We 
cannot deny that the farmer’s wife must be a busy 
woman. 
On the other hand, “A woman’s home is her king¬ 
dom,” and every time we look out we can see real 
nature. Directly in front of my sink is a window facing 
a grand old mountain which is more company than some 
people. Then we see our husbands often during the 
day and are interested in all the farm business. The 
farmer can make his wife’s task much easier without 
taking much of his precious time by seeing that the vege¬ 
tables are in the house, that she doesn’t have any heavy 
lifting to do, and that she has all the conveniences 
possible. If he puts the potatoes in the oven when he 
builds the fire, it won’t take her long to get breakfast. 
Though I began housekeeping and farm life only two 
years ago, a limited supply of strength has made it nec¬ 
essary for me to lighten the work on a dairy farm as 
much as I can. Keeping a servant is too expensive; but 
my little baby must be cared for, the meals prepared, 
and all the dishes washed. We think it is cheaper to 
hire the washing and ironing done than to pay a doctor, 
so I can distribute my cooking and extra work all 
through the week. Easy desserts, such as fruit rice, and 
jellies once in a while help, and in the 
Summer I get supper on the kerosene 
stove. We farmer’s wives are too busy 
to get into ruts; but even a busy woman 
can keep in touch with the world through 
magazines like The Literary Digest and 
Review of Reviews. It is our duty to 
make our life an attractive one instead of 
the drudgery it is considered by so many 
with too good cause. 
MRS. B. A. CORBETT. 
New Hampshire. 
Indignant Protest from Virginia. 
I have waited to see whether any of 
your readers would comment on the arti¬ 
cle headed “A Woman’s Strenuous Day.” 
Seeing none, I may conclude that such 
strenuous lines are not uncommon in the 
farming community of New York State. 
Well, Mr. Editor, over 15 hours is a tol¬ 
erable day's work. Peonage, serfdom, 
slavery, are not in it. How much, in dol¬ 
lars, does this strenous woman get for her 
day? Can she draw what she pleases 
from the family treasury, or does she have 
to beg humbly for every dollar that the 
sweat of her brow has helped to make? 
A man who has just read this “Woman’s Strenuous Day,” 
one who can put more work into a given number of 
hours than any man I know, gives his opinion of the 
head of this household in two words. Quite unprint¬ 
able, you say? Quite so. How about the actual fact 
of the existence of this white slavery? That is not un¬ 
printable. Flow many years does this strenuous woman 
suppose she will last, at this rate? What of that? She 
can rest in her grave, and the widower can make his 
choice of Number two among the women who will 
crowd to her funeral. There are far too many women 
who will fall down and worship any old thing that 
wears breeches. Were it otherwise, there would not be 
so many men who take for granted an amount of toil, 
when the toilers are their own wives and daughters, 
that they would not dare suggest to any hired help, no 
matter at what wages. Virginia. 
TRAP NESTS FOR HENS. 
I am using the nests made and used at the Maine 
Experiment Station, Orono, Me., to which I am greatly 
indebted for my success. The first season using these 
nests, I had 58 White Wyandotte pullets; at the end 
of six months laying, commencing with November 1, 
pullet No. G had laid three eggs, while pullet No. 10 had 
laid 104 eggs. I killed No. 6 and examination showed 
A COLT RAISED ON COW’S MILK. Fig. 173. See Next Page. 
