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WOMAN AND HOME 
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E E 
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SS 
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The Woman Farmer 
Many Trials and Few Triumphs 
How She Holds Her Own 
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G aining experience.—a few 
pages from my book of experience 
may be of interest ana possibly helpful to 
some of the many women who are con¬ 
templating a move back to the land. 
Much is being written to tempt them to 
take this step, and many are eager to try. 
More than that, many are actually doing 
it and finding great joy therein. Living 
as I do where there are at least a dozen 
women farmers within a radius of two 
miles and being practically one myself, I 
feel that I can speak of things of which 
I know. Farming is a business; not only 
that, but a complex business. The suc¬ 
cessful management which the head of a 
manufacturing or mercantile institution 
must have—an ability to carry many mat¬ 
ters in the head at once, an ability to meet 
emergencies, the power to make decisions 
promptly and change them for new ones 
when weather and circumstances make 
well-laid plans unfeasible. Add to this a 
knowledge is needed of all matters that 
pertain to the business in hand, and we 
may say with safety that no calling de¬ 
mands a more diverse knowledge of many 
subjects. 
Qualities Needed. — IIow can a 
farmer wisely select implements and tools 
without knowing something of mechanics? 
flow can he combat insect pests without 
knowing something of chemistry and en¬ 
tomology? How can he show good judg¬ 
ment in the preparation, planting and per¬ 
fecting of crops without knowing much of 
botany and geology? IIow properly care 
for his stock without knowing something 
of physiology, zoology and the chemistry 
of food? It is no new thought that most 
failures on the farm as well as in other 
lines of business are due more to lack of 
judgment and foresight than to lack of 
actual knowledge. Without being a radi¬ 
cal suffragette, it is my opinion that more 
women than men possess the qualities 
which go to the making of a successful 
director of the complexities of farming. 
If it were not so, why cannot a man pre¬ 
pare a meal, tend the baby, finish the 
washing and order next day’s supplies all 
at the same time, and have everything in 
perfect order (including himself) prompt¬ 
ly at the dinner hour? You know a man 
never even remembers to replenish the 
fire unless reminded, and then he pushes 
aside the kettle containing the most im¬ 
portant part of the dinner and leaves it 
to stop cooking till he is ready to eat it, 
when he suddenly wants to blame some¬ 
one else for its uncooked state. 
Physical Limitations.—W hether or 
not we concede that a woman has the 
mental qualities which enable her to suc¬ 
ceed as the directing power of the farm 
we all know that by physical limitations 
there are many parts of farm labor which 
she cannot or should not do. A woman 
who undertakes to farm, except in a very 
limited way, is dependent upon hired men, 
and the first thing she should impress 
upon a man when hiring him is that if he 
is not willing to take orders from a 
woman he may look elsewhere for work. 
It appears difficult for the most insigni¬ 
ficant and inefficient male to place him¬ 
self in a position which suggests subor¬ 
dinacy to the weaker, and hence in¬ 
ferior, sex. This dependence on hired 
help is probably the greatest drawback to 
the woman farmer, for if help is hard to 
find or present help leaves suddenly 
things are at a standstill. Again, the 
wages of the hired man subtract most 
alarmingly from the cash receipts. These 
two things the wise woman will consider 
well before deciding to venture. 
The Woman and Business.—T he at¬ 
titude of business men toward a woman 
is a little peculiar and not altogether 
gratifying. To be personal for a moment 
—I tried raising a few pigs this year, 
hoping for fine returns at holiday time. 
It was my first experience in attempting 
to market anything of the sort, so I was 
not known to the dealers. As my little 
piggies became promising porkers I be¬ 
gan calling up the market and telling 
them what I had to sell, and asking if 
they would care to handle them. At the 
sound of a woman’s voice they each in 
turn seemed to think they must be hear¬ 
ing wrong, then they admitted that they 
would soon need more pork, and next 
began a subtle attempt to get me to set 
a price. I knew they were hoping that, 
being “only a woman,” I might commit 
myself to a figure very advantageous to 
the buyer, but when I said, “Market 
price, of course,” they said, “Well, have 
THE NEW HENHOUSE; 
your husband come in and see us.” Not 
caring to go into family history over the 
’phone, I turned my attention to selling 
to individuals who wished to do their own 
butchering—but that is what Kipling 
calls another story. Yet one more in¬ 
stance from my own experience. I bought 
a sprayer of well-known make from our 
local dealer. Some little thing about it 
did not work just right. It was a slight 
imperfection in one of the parts, but 
enough to delay the work and impair the 
“perfect whole,” so I removed the part 
and took it back, asking for a new one 
in exchange. The dealer rather objected, 
and ended by saying, “If I was explain¬ 
ing it to a man I could tell him how to 
make it right himself.” If there had been 
time to waste I would have liked the joke 
of sending my “man” and let him explain 
till he was black in the face, but time 
being more than money just then, I ex¬ 
pressed a willingness to try to under¬ 
stand with the feeble shred of brain I 
possessed, whereupon words failed him— 
and ideas also, apparently, for he had 
nothing further to say. 
Stock-keeping. —One more and very 
important thought for the woman who 
thinks of running a farm—if she keeps 
stock of any kind there will be matters 
to be attended to and spoken of which 
will not be pleasant, but there is no place 
for prudery here. However, this to me 
has not been so trying as other things, for 
in all cases the men have taken it in a 
matter-of-fact way, and have treated me 
and the subject with unfailing dignity 
and respect. One of my neighbors, a 
younger woman, has resorted to most 
roundabout methods to have her wishes 
in these matters conveyed to her men or 
to the owners of breeding stock, and has 
suffered much embarrassment besides. 
The Farm Sisterhood. —On the whole 
we women farmers in this locality are a 
happy, healthy, contented group, finding 
pleasure in our hardships, learning from 
our mistakes, scorned by our masculine 
neighbors for our book farming, but sec¬ 
retly envied for our successes, which 
often exceed their own ; satisfied with our 
lot, but not without our attainments, for 
we are ambitious to keep improving, and 
BOSSING THE JOB. 
always glad to learn of others of the 
sisterhood who seek freedom and new 
life in the great out of doors with the 
never-failing renewal of interest and en¬ 
thusiasm which one finds in the wonder¬ 
ful things which spring from tiny seeds—• 
be they weeds or oak trees. I might 
add that among my neighbors the most 
successful women farmers are ones to 
whom farm life had been seen only from 
the point of view of Summer boarders 
previous to their investment in land to 
make a home and an income for them¬ 
selves. They include college graduates, 
teachers, artists, office workers and so¬ 
ciety women, but I recall no one among 
them who has come with a family of 
children to support. All had resources 
upon which to depend until the farm 
could supply the living, at least, if not 
an income—which makes all the differ¬ 
ence in the world, as the Hope Farm 
man is always telling us. A. A. S. 
THE WOMAN AND THE WAN¬ 
DERING HEN. 
A Story of Puget Sound. 
I HAVE been deeply interested in the 
poultry business all my life, especial¬ 
ly as it relates to owning fine plumage 
birds, and have my wife, or some other 
faithful soul, do the actual manual labor 
of rearing, fattening, dressing and un¬ 
dressing them, preparatory to serving on 
the table. For many years I have dili¬ 
gently perused the various journals treat¬ 
ing on the subject of poultry for profit 
and poultry for pleasure, and have con¬ 
sidered myself quite an expert on the 
subject, and fully qualified to give advice 
to the intermediate and infant classes. I 
have been led to believe that there were 
certain vital principles as mandatory as 
the “Ten Commandments,” the disregard¬ 
ing of which meant absolute failure, but 
since coming to the Puget Sound country 
I have had my faith shaken in these old 
time-honored maxims of the past. For 
instance, in raising young turkeys, the 
first rule in the book says keep their feet: 
dry, and don’t let them go out while the 
dew is on the grass. This also.applies to 
young chicks, though not considered ab¬ 
solutely necessary. 
Before going further I will say that 
I am not going to spring any new theory 
or recommend any departure from the es¬ 
tablished rules of the game. I am not 
now financially interested in any society 
for prevention of cruelty to any living 
thing. Some months ago I read with 
much interest how several of the stand¬ 
patters among the poultry breeders, 
jumped on to the Hope Farm man for 
chucking some mongrel hens into the so¬ 
ciety of purebreds at an egg-laying con¬ 
test, so I feel justified in departing from 
standard rules. T am simply going to re¬ 
late what I have observed with my own 
eyes, without comment: of approval or 
disapproval; so here goes: 
I am a lumberman engaged in manu¬ 
facturing lumber and shingles; I have a 
mill in Norwood Precinct, Mason Coun¬ 
ty, Washington, and although I live in 
Seattle I have occasion to be at the mill 
at least once a month. Last year Mrs. 
Bod well, the wife of my mill superin¬ 
tendent, decided she would go into the 
poultry business. Bodwell said no; ho 
had no time to fuss with chickens. But 
Mrs. B. finally succeeded (like the widow 
spoken of in Holy Writ, who routed the 
householder out of bed late at night and 
succeeded in obtaining alms, not because 
the householder' Wanted to give, but be¬ 
cause of her continued coming she wearied 
him). Bodwell bought 12 healthy pul¬ 
lets and a lively young rooster from a 
neighboring rancher, and presented them 
to his wife early in October. Bodwell 
was going to build a chicken house and 
a woven wire fence runway, but he never 
got around to do it, so the chickens had 
to roost under the Alfalfa shed next to 
the horse barn. Chickens can forage for 
a living if they have to, and these cer¬ 
tainly had to. 
Early in January they began laying 
and for two months or more eggs were 
plenty, much to the delight of the mill 
employees, who boarded with Mrs. Bod¬ 
well. The country surrounding the mill 
is still mostly in virgin forest infested 
with such varmints as are native to the 
North temperate zone, and Mrs. Bodwell 
fretted continually lest her chickens 
should fall a prey to wild beasts. Every 
night she took a lantern and made the 
rounds to make sure that all of her chick¬ 
ens were on the home roost, but later in 
the Spring wh'en the young sprouting veg¬ 
etation began to look green, her chickens 
ranged farther and farther from home, 
and soon Mrs. Bodwell discovered one of 
her hens missing, when she rounded them 
up at night. I was not present, when she 
returned to the house, and met Bodwell, 
so I cannot quote her exact expression, 
but the boarders said there was language 
between them that was not pleasant to 
hear. To make a long story short, it. can 
be truthfully said that the number of hens 
on the roost continued to decrease, until 
there was but one lone hen, and her lord¬ 
ly master left. Rather inglorious ending 
to Mrs. Bodwell’s plans, but she was not 
yet fully discouraged. This lone hen had 
been laying in an improvised nest among 
the bales of Alfalfa, and soon becoming 
broody Mrs. Bodwell set her on a clutch 
of turkey eggs, that she obtained from a 
nearby rancher, and we now come to the 
real point of the story. 
(Continued on page 137.) 
