Going to Inspect the Rural Co-operative Bank 
Iwana Rapponen 
A Visit to a Finnish Co-operator 
By Henry Goddard Leach 
Iwana Rapponen did not run to meet us when we came down 
the path from the woods to visit his farm. He was clearing his 
korpi and was in the act of prying loose from the soil a gigantic 
boulder. His tool was a crowbar cut by his own axe from some 
tough grain in the forest. Exulting in his strength and smiling with 
satisfaction over his task, through the sweat which glistened like dew 
on his seamy face, he wrestled while we looked on, with weight which 
seemed to resist and appeal to the forces of nature that had lodged 
it there. At last the rock yielded and rolled over on its back. 
Do not think because of the manner of his welcome that Iwana 
was an ungracious host. He had the native intelligence to know that 
this exhibition of the important niche which he occupied in the world’s 
economy was the most effective possible introduction to the twenty 
minutes we were to occupy in his life. With the friendliest laugh the 
old fellow swept off the beads of sweat with his sleeve, grasped in 
turn the hands of the Schoolmaster and the Sheriff and buried the 
fingers of his American visitors in his sturdy right paw. We were 
welcome to Finland. We were right welcome among the Finnish 
people, they who had just been through the fires of hell and come out 
with nerves tempered like steel. 
