1905. 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
321 
Hope Farm Notes 
Florida Again. —No doubt some of our 
readers have been at St. Augustine, Fla., 
while many more have read something of its 
history. On our way to Hope Farm, Jr., as 
Aunt Emma has named the Florida farm, we 
spent a day at St. Augustine. Several things 
are claimed for this place, the first perma¬ 
nent settlement in what is now the United 
States, the first introduction of human slav¬ 
ery here, a fortress that never was captured 
and a system of land development that shows 
just how not to do it. The old stone fort 
was of great Interest to me. One could see 
how admirably it was located for defense. 
A sand bar protects the entrance to the har¬ 
bor, so that no vessel could get close enough 
for attack. The swampy land all around pre¬ 
vented an enemy from locating cannon where 
they could reach the inside of the fort. Sev¬ 
eral times the enemy captured the town and 
burned it, but the Spaniards marched into the 
fort and shut the gates and then, as long as 
their food held out, they were safe, for no 
cannon that could be planted within reach of 
them could make a hole in that fort. It was 
true of most things in those old days that the 
“ins” had a great advantage over the “outs." 
The case is different now. A modern warship 
could stand a few miles off shore and blow 
that fort into a pile of broken stone. I ncle 
Sam doesn’t build any more forts that way, 
but Florida people still operate after the 
manner of those old Spaniards in some ways! 
The interior of the fort is very interesting. 
The little girl and I groped our way into a 
long and narrow hole in the rock which was 
formerly used for a prison. By the aid of 
lighted matches we found our way to the end. 
There are marks on the wall at one place 
which are said to have been made by Osceola, 
the Indian chief, so that he might climb up 
to the little hole which lets in the sun. I 
am glad I didn’t live in that, age! I hear 
Florida farmers of to-day make some com¬ 
plaint about business conditions, but the red 
farmers who occupied their land 300 years 
ago were worse off. They toiled against their 
will to build this prison, and then were 
.thrown into it. 
The point of history which impressed me 
•most was the way these Spaniards failed to 
.develop the country. There was a garrison 
for the fort and a militia company in the 
town. They were paid by the Spanish King, 
and as a result there was no need for them 
to work. The very food they consumed was 
brought from Spain. The Spaniards were ex¬ 
cellent farmers in their own land, but in 
Florida they seem to have neglected the soil. 
-They did not teach the Indians a higher ag¬ 
riculture, but simply lived on Spain ! 
This is one of the customs which, it seems 
!to me, has been pretty well carried over. 
During the past Winter Florida has been 
filled with people who work elsewhere, and 
willingly exchange the proceeds of their toil 
for Florida sunshine and air. I am careful 
not to say “Florida food,” for a good share 
of what they eat comes out of northern stor¬ 
age houses and canning factories. Walk 
through anv good-sized grocery and see the 
mountains ‘of canned tomatoes, peas or 
peaches ! In one place I am sure I counted 
at least 3,000 cans of f'aliiornia peaches, 
manv of them of poor quality and picked 
green at that. We can raise a peach in Flor¬ 
ida that is five times as good : in fact, every 
bit of that canned stuff could be produced in 
the State, saving money and providing labor. 
Florida is a paradise for a hen. yet thousands 
, of cases of cold storage eggs are sent from 
the North. There was some excuse for the 
Spanish soldiers when they brought their 
food from Spain, but is that any reason why 
Florida farmers of to-day should permit trade 
to make them walk Spanish on their own 
farms? There Is no State in the Union with 
better market possibilities than Florida, and 
none in which those possibilities seem further 
'.removed from facts. 
Old Stories.— A fellow has some strange 
Thoughts when night comes in Florida. The 
twilight is short. The sky blushes as the 
sun goes to bed in the West, and then the 
shadows come rapidly through the pine trees. 
I sat out on- the porch, holding the youngest 
baby of the- family. The little lake in front 
of us was rippling in the night breeze. Some 
one had started a fire in the pine woods, a 
way tliev have here of burning over the old 
wire-grass so that a more tender growth will 
grow up for the cattle. In every direction 
the fire had crept slowly into the woods, 
lighting up what seemed to be great caverns 
under the trees. Roses and orange trees were 
in bloom. All the voices of the night were 
C subdued. Inside the house one of Uncle Ed’s 
boarders had started a graphophone! We 
had eaten apple sauce and baked beans for 
supper, and perhaps that brought me back 
to the labor record of those old Snaniards at 
St. Augustine. I fell to comparing it and its 
effect upon the country with the record of 
those who settled New England. One set of 
men settled in a warm country, where it 
seems to me Nature stands ready to fill man’s 
cup to overflowing. These men accepted pay 
merely to idle and fight, and were not even 
interested enough to produce their own food. 
The other set of men landed upon poor, 
sterile soil where Nature has more frowns 
than smiles. They had neither financial back¬ 
ing, salary nor popularity, nothing but the 
labor of their hands. To my mind it is a 
striking contrast, the petted and lazy Spanish 
soldier idling in the King’s pay. and the 
gaunt Yankee fighting for very life against 
famine and cold ! Who wonders to-day why 
one conquered while the other went down ? 
Did not the strugHe of one build character, 
while the indolence of the other lost it? Who 
reallv questions the grim justice which draws 
this ‘biting line down through nations or sec¬ 
tions or families or individuals? 
Probably those who feel that they carry 
the sins or infirmities of others. I know- 
of people who go on through life feeling that 
it has been given them to carry the burdens 
which by right belong to their ancestors. 
There is no corner of the world in which you 
cannot find men and women with a hunger 
of the heart, which ranges all the way from 
regret to something nearer madness. 
I thought of all these things as I sat in the 
Florida evening rocking the hopeful little 
child. When a man gets down near bedrock 
with himself it doesn't seem to make much 
difference with him whether he is at the 
North Pole or at the Equator! Inside the 
house the graphophone was turning out its 
noise. Now it was a joke or funny story, and 
then it sent out to us the full music of a 
brass band. Then there was a whirl and a 
pause and there came clear and strong as it 
in answer to what I had been trying to work 
out: 
“It may be in the coming years, 
Perhaps within the better land. 
We’ll read the answer to our tears. 
Some day ! Some day we’ll understand. 
“Then trust in God through all thy days, 
Fear not, for he doth hold thy hand. 
Though dark the night still sing and praise. 
Some day ! Some day we’ll understand !” 
I wish every reader could hear that just as 
it came to me that night. It was the music 
of a quartette. A woman’s voice went soar¬ 
ing up at the end and a man's bass went 
down, as if to form a solid foundation. No 
doubt it seemed like a very common thing for 
them to sing into the machine when that roll 
was made. Yet they did not realize how 
their words and music were to be carried all 
over, bringing comfort and hope to those who 
stand in need. If a dead machine can carry 
the expression of the best that is in the 
human heart in this way a man ought to be 
pretty well ashamed of himself to carry his 
worst around with him. 
Farming. —But I hear some one say, why 
not drop all this and tell us how farming is 
progressing? Such thoughts are nearer the 
heart of farming in Florida than of any other 
section I know of. Thousands of Florida 
farmers are not there from choice, but be¬ 
cause the climate suits them, while the 
weather at the old home denies them com¬ 
fort. In that part of Putnam County where 
my farm is located people have largely pinned 
their faith to oranges and Winter boarders. 
The latter make a fair crop, though many a 
slab-sided boarder will gnaw the rind of 
profit down so thin that you can see through 
it. Oranges in this section are a worse gam¬ 
ble than a game of poker. The section needs 
substitute crops for oranges. We are trying 
potatoes. Alfalfa and peaches in a small way. 
and hope to try poultry, hogs and a small 
dairy herd later. At New Year’s I planted 
about 30 peach trees on the Stringfellow 
plan, cutting the top back and pruning the 
roots to stubs. They were put. in small holes 
with the earth packed hard around the roots. 
I saw them again exactly 84 days later. They 
had not been touched since I left them. All 
were alive and had thrown out branches all 
the wav from eight inches to nearly three 
feet long. I did not believe it possible that 
such growth could be made during the Win¬ 
ter, especially on that sand. Several of these 
little peach trees actually have six or more 
peaches as large now as walnuts. Trees 
which Uncle Ed set two years ago on this 
plan are loaded with fruit. I don’t like to 
make such statements, for I am frank to say 
that I would not believe them had I not 
planted the trees myself and seen the growth ! 
It only seems to show what a man can do 
with this Florida soil if he will half try. 
But suppose you do raise peaches, what can 
you do with them? 
They come in at least three weeks ahead 
of the Georgia crop, when the market is about 
bare of peaches. I understand they do not 
ship well when fully ripe. I imagine that, in 
order to put them properly on the northern 
market, iced cars or crates must be used. I 
think, however, that local markets of the 
State can absorb a good many. I don’t see 
why they could not lie canned to take^ the 
place of‘ the California peaches. A Florida 
peach will melt in your mouth, while what 
comes out qf a California can is often like a 
rubber ball ! 
I asked a man who has been in Florida 
manv years if there is no feeling of State 
pride which would prompt people to make a 
market for a Florida peach ! 
“Not a bit!” he said. 
There you get another trait inherited from 
those old Spaniards. What did they care 
about Florida? They stripped the State in 
order to send gold away to the old country. 
As for Alfalfa, we have sown it in three 
kinds of soil, and in two different ways. We 
expect to keep on sowing it every three 
months until we learn the best time for sow¬ 
ing and the best soil and conditions. We 
used the “cultures” to supply bacteria. The 
see«( was moistened with the liquid and then 
dry sand was mixed with the seed and all 
broadcast. Then the remainder of the water 
containing the bacteria was sprinkled over 
small plots of soil to make doubly sure of in¬ 
oculation. The seed was covered with an 
Acme harrow and plank drag. In one place 
we sowed oats with the Alfalfa, intending to 
cut them and let them remain on the ground 
for a mulch. This sowing was done March 
31. As for our potato crop. I must leave a 
description of that for another week. 
h. w. c. 
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