V'ol. LXV No. '2929. 
NEW YORK, MARCH 17, 1906. 
WEEKLY, $1.(X) PKK YEAR. 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A KENTUCKY‘FIELD. 
SOIL IN TIIB “BLUE GRASS” TALKS. 
Where Nature Has Been Wondrous Kind. 
The following statement of a field located in the famous 
Blue grass section of Kentucky may be accepted as accurate. 
We have never read a better expression of the feelings of a 
strong and worthy piece of soil. What an eye-opener this Is 
to those of us whose farms are thin and poor—constantly 
requiring fertilizer! 
I was brought up out of watery depths during the 
Silurian times, and my top surface was 200 feet thick 
of binTs-eye limestone rock. Frost and sun, rain and 
drought, disintegrated my rock surface, and I became 
covered with red clay; but the birds and wind brought 
seeds, and vegetation sprung up over me. I grew in 
strength to produce plants, trees blossomed over me, 
and a great forest around me. Forests grew, reached 
their age limits, died, fell; new varieties came in their 
places. 
The mound-builders were the first men I saw, and 
they came to drink from a spring 
gushing from my side. The red 
men came later and drove out 
and killed many of the mound- 
builders, and these aborigines 
threw up a great mound near me 
over their dead; and 1 saw them 
no more. But the red men came 
back to shoot deer and wild tur¬ 
keys that came to my spring for 
water; they pierced my sides with 
Hint-tipped arrows that are plowed 
up at this day. The white 
men came, and I saw the red man 
no more; but the white has 
been my friend; be shot squirrels 
from my treetops; he measured 
me off (24 acres) cut my great 
trees down, Sugar maples, wal¬ 
nuts, Bur oaks, burned them on 
my surface; plowed me and plant¬ 
ed me to corn. This white man 
who called me his, talked about 
the Revolutionary War that was 
then going on ; spoke of the coun¬ 
try as Kentucky, but was a part 
of Virginia. How I responded to 
this man’s efforts is now forgot¬ 
ten, for my present owner belongs 
to the fourth generation that has 
plowed me. But I pleased this 
great-grandfather so much that he 
built a house near the spring, and 
gave me to bis son John, saying: 
“Here are 40 acres in all, the best land I have; 24 of 
it is cleared, with a house, an ox and a plow. I believe 
you can make a living on it.” Mr. John thanked him, 
movecl in the new house with bis new wife. We 
worked together, Mr. John and the ox during the en¬ 
tire day, while I worked day and night to help make 
money and please his father, and we succeeded won¬ 
derfully; great crops of corn we turned off each year. 
Horses took the place of the ox, and wheat sometimes 
and potatoes were planted instead of corn, but always 
a good crop. Mr. John bought more land, cleared more, 
but loved me best of all. The father said to bis wife: 
"I knew John and the Spring Field would do well 
together.” 
A road was built along one of my sides; and one 
day a lady who had made a long journey passed along 
the road, and looking over me when the corn was its 
darkest green, said: “What a beautiful field of corn. 
1 he land must be rich; I have seen nothing so good 
in all Virginia,” and I heard Mr. John say to his wife, 
as the lady passed out of sight, that was the mother 
of young Henry Clay. T was pleased, for I knew she 
was some great lady, and I did my best with that crop, 
thinking she might come back, for I beard she was 
living in the town near, and had declared this was the 
richest of all lands. 
Time passed, and Mr. John’s sons grew up, and one 
day he said to the oldest: “William, if you will raise 
a larger crop of corn on the Spring Field than I have 
ever done, I will give you the land and move to my 
father’s place.” I did not know that year whether to 
try or not, for I did not like Mr. John to leave me, yet 
I was proud of my reputation. Mr. William gave me 
a good plowing and planted the corn early, and we had 
excellent rains that season. The neighbors said as they 
passed by: “No better corn ever grew.” Mr. John 
weighed the corn, for lie would chance no guess, and 
hearing Mr. William laugh I knew I must change 
hands, and was glad and sorry both at once; for Mr. 
John said: “Ninety-five bushels to the acre is just a 
little more than 1 ever raised,” so he moved away to 
the other part of the farm, while Mr. William plowed 
and harrowed me for several years, but he was not 
very much pleased; said he wanted newer land, for this 
had been cleared 40 years. Newer land would do bet¬ 
ter with less work. When Mr. William’s house burned 
down I knew I would change hands. T heard the 
father say: “Very well, William, 1 will buy that place 
you want for you, and your brother Robert can have 
this one.” Mr. John had now more than one thousand 
acres, and could give Mr. William any place nearly he 
wanted, and so my master went about 10 miles away 
and Mr. Robert took charge of me. I was well cared 
for, put in grass for some years, and grazed with sheep 
and horses, and when T was again plowed I gave heavy 
crops of hemp and corn and oats. 
Mr. John was now an old man, but used to come and 
look at the crops 1 gave, and said one day: “Robert, 
when I die I want to be buried on this land that gave 
me my start in farming and responded so nobly for so 
many years, and promises to do well for as many 
more.” T was glad to hear my praise sung by my old 
master, but sad to think that sure enough he must soon 
die, he who bad followed the plow over me so faith¬ 
fully, worked so wisely and succeeded so wonderfully. 
It was not long before the old master was buried under 
my sod, near where the house had stood. Not many 
years, but bountiful ones, and Mr. Robert also died, 
and I was left to the tender mercies of a renter, for 
Mr. Robert’s son was not old enough to carry on the 
farm. Barley, corn, wheat, oats, until I was near ex¬ 
hausted ; then I was put down to grass, and the renter 
moved away, and my present master took me in hand. 
Sheep and horses grazed over me again, and the Blue 
grass grew up and fell down as I regained my strength. 
New vigor, and renewed ability to produce, came every 
day, for was I not born in the Silurian times and my 
top crust surmounted by 150 feet of the richest known 
rocks, composed of the bones of more than 10,000 
species of sea fauna? In 1894 I was plowed up and 
part of me put in tobacco, and the remainder in hemp. 
I had grown hemp before, and knew what to do, but 
tobacco was a new crop to me. However, I did my 
best, and when my master would come I could see he 
was pleased—every day he came and would scrape 
soil back with his toe to see that I was holding the 
moisture. He always seemed 
pleased, and I did my best, though 
the crop grew thick and dark over 
me, and drank up barrels of water 
every day. At last the tobacco 
was cut and hauled off, and the 
hemp put in the stack and I had 
a little resting spell, but not long. 
I was sown in wheat and went to 
work again on that crop. Along 
in the Winter of that year, when 
the colored men were breaking 
out the hemp I overheard these 
remarks: 
“This sho’ is a good field— 
bound to make 1,500 pounds of 
hemp to the acre, and de boss ’ll 
git five dollars a hundred fur it. 
Did you hear ’bout that crop of 
’bacca? The boss sold it t’other 
day and it fetched two hundred 
and five dollars er acre. Hope l 
won’t hafter shock that wheat 
growin’ on de groun’ now, simply 
gwineterkill some nigger if it keeps 
er growin’.” Of couse I was 
pleased for I knew the darkey had 
no ax to grind, and was stating as 
near facts as he could. The 
wheat, then corn (almost the best 
I ever produced), then wheat 
again and down in clover. How 
I kicked up my heels when the 
clover was growing; why, I had 
nothing scarcely to do, and the clover grew waist high; 
then bent down, then turned up again; and when the 
mowers came to cut me down I heard the drivers give 
low long whistles; then the machines broke and T 
heard some swearing. The master came, told them 
to cut the clover all one way and that he never saw 
such a tangled crop. I was afraid he would blame me 
for it, but he said, “I had no idea we had had so much 
wind.” Clover again, then in Timothy until last year, 
and I heard the master say: “This field is just too 
strong for hay, it all falls down; we will try it in 
tobacco again.” Then I knew my time had come. 
Every foot of me plowed and set to tobacco and the 
crop grew to the men’s shoulders, and I heard them 
say when they were cutting it: “Ibis is just about 
the best crop in the county.” 
Now that 1 am telling you my story I may as well 
tell that I overheard the master say: “That field of 
24 acres of tobacco brought $2,400,” but you know I 
have never been more nor less than 24 acres since my 
first master put me in corn 122 years ago. Yet some 
of the wise ones said it took virgin soil to bring to¬ 
bacco when I was being set, but my master said: 
GERMAN COACH STALLION ARNULF 763. Fig. 99. See Page 242. 
