NEW YORK, DECEMBER 16, 1911. 
WEEKLY, $1.00 PER YEAR- 
VOL. LXX. No. 4129. 
SOME BACK-TO-THE-LAND EXPERIENCE. 
The Real Thing on a Farm. 
In reading Mr. Mills’ article, “Graduate Reflections,” 
•n page 1001, I was very much interested as to how he 
vent to farming, intending to do the same myself this 
Spring. I would like to know how much capital he 
itarted in with, and methods he used ; how large a place, 
itock bought, cost of feed until on paying basis, etc.? 
Newport, Ivy. w. b. s. b. 
It seems to be an inborn tendency of man to look 
upon “the other fellow’s” job as just a little more 
pleasant and profitable 
than his own. No mat¬ 
ter bow congenial our 
own work, many of us 
are apt to look with a 
feeling akin to envy 
upon some of our ac¬ 
quaintances who, it 
seems to us, earn their 
money more easily or 
more agreeably than we 
do. The truth of the 
matter probably is that 
“the other fellow” has a 
great many cares and 
difficulties that we know 
nothing about, and per¬ 
haps he looks with the 
same feeling upon our 
tot. There is no doubt 
in my own mind that a 
great deal of the back- 
to-the-land tendency is 
due primarily to this un¬ 
easy spirit of the human 
race. The city dweller 
becomes restless under 
the monotonous condi¬ 
tions which surround 
him at home and in his 
work. To him the coun¬ 
try, with its freedom 
and its ever - changing 
aspect, offers a refuge 
from his present diffi¬ 
culties. Probably not one 
in a hundred has any 
idea of the hard work 
and close application, of 
the trials and discour¬ 
agements which are the 
lot of even the experi¬ 
enced farmer. On the 
other hand the boy who 
has spent all his days on 
the farm longs for the 
gaiety and variety of the 
city, little knowing the 
conditions under which 
a city laborer must work 
and live. And when a 
man possessing a good 
education gives up a good office position to come and 
grub his living out of a farm his city neighbors look 
upon him with envy, while his good sense, if not his 
sanity, is doubted by his farmer neighbors. 
I have been requested to give some of my own ex¬ 
periences as a back-to-the-lander. I must confess 
that they are nothing unusual or extraordinary, and 
if I stick to the truth, my story will not make nearly 
as interesting reading as many I have seen. Facts 
are not always stranger than fiction, but I will give 
the facts, nevertheless. I received my degree from 
college in 1903 and immediately took a position in 
the U. S. Weather Bureau. My choice of a position 
was not due to any natural fitness or predilection for 
the work, but because I needed the money, and that 
position was the most available. Furthermore, all 
my life, except while in school, had been spent on 
the farm, and I wanted to see a little of the other 
side. But while my work was reasonably pleasant, 
and hours short, the change from the fields to the 
office was not as agreeable as I had expected, and I 
began to long to be back in the open air. After about 
a year I was married to a farmer’s daughter, whose 
love for the country was as strong as mine, so now 
I not only thought about getting back to the country, 
but talked and planned about it. But both of us 
knew by experience something of the difficulties in 
the way, and occasional increases in my salary made 
it all the more difficult to let go, so it was not until 
the Winter of 1908 that the way was opened to leave 
the city and get back to nature. 
Back home was the farm my great-grandfather had 
bought when the country was new. From him it 
passed to my grandfather, then to my father, who 
offered to rent it to me, stock and tools included. 
So we pulled up stakes and arrived here, wife and 
I and two babes, in February, 1908, with capital con¬ 
sisting of a good outfit of household furniture, about 
$75 in money, good health and a firm determination 
to succeed. The farm, containing 148 acres, had been 
rented for about 25 years, and as is so often the case, 
the buildings and fences were getting somewhat 
dilapidated. 1 he land, though not in its original tilth 
and fertility, was still quite productive. The dairy 
consisted of 15 cows, 
many of them two, 
three and four years old, 
and just a little better 
than the average dairy. 
There were four horses, 
not very valuable ones, 
but still able to do con¬ 
siderable work; two 
brood sows and s i x 
shotes; about 20 sbeep, 
a n d 50 hens, mostly 
White Leghorns. The 
tools were all the way 
from nearly new to 
nearly worn out. Seed 
potatoes and seed grain 
and fodder to last till 
Spring were furnished, 
it being agreed that 
when I should leave the 
farm I should leave an 
equal amount. I was to 
have half the proceeds 
of all crops and stock 
sold, except cows, and 
half interest in young 
stock raised, and to fur¬ 
nish all the labor, half 
of the feed bought, one- 
third of fertilizer, to 
pay half of the taxes, 
and all repairs to 
machinery, horseshoeing, 
etc. Now these terms 
were somewhat more 
liberal than are gener¬ 
ally offered to share 
tenants around here, yet 
considering the state of 
repair, or rather of dis¬ 
repair, of much of the 
equipment, were no more 
than fair, for there were 
many difficulties ahead. 
When wife and I had 
decided to go farming, 
and that almost without 
capital, we admitted that 
we must expect a good 
Fig. 484. deal of hard work and 
careful calculating, and 
close pinching at times. Our actual experience brought 
no disappointment in these points. There was very 
little income at that time. The hens scarcely paid 
the grocery bill, only one cow had freshened, and 
everything was crying for feed. Our meager capital 
soon went for feed and other expenses, and still the 
income was not sufficient to meet the outgo. For¬ 
tunately for us the home dealers were very generous 
in extending credit, so that we were able to keep 
things running until the income began to get ahead 
of the expense. And right here let me depart from 
THE FAITHFUL FRIEND AND THE PROUD KEEPER. 
