584 
RURAL NEW-YORKER 
April 21, 1917. 
HOPE FARM NOTES 
A cold, raw wind is blowing down our 
valley at just the wrong time. Warm 
weather started, and we got ready for 
Spring work with dreams of planting to¬ 
matoes and viewing apple blooms. Then 
it seemed as if the fickle Spring jusr 
danced up our valley and up.set a jar of 
ice water, or picked a hole in the side of 
an iceberg. At any rate the ground is 
crusted by frost and most of us feel a 
little crusted in disposition. At such 
times the children can play games and 
eat apples to keep up their spirits. The 
best way for older folks to get the cold 
out of their hopes and joints is to start a 
good open fire and get into touch with oil 
friends. 
Old Faces.—A family like ours is like 
a transplanted tree—just coming to fruit¬ 
ing. One cannot really know what “old 
neighbors” are unless he has grown up 
with them from childhood. Here I am 
from near Cape Cod, and here is Mother 
from Mississippi, located in New .Tersey. 
The true old friendships were formed 
years ago, and it has been impossible to 
carry the real spirit of the fine old home 
towns along with us. The ocean off the 
Jersey coast is pretty much the same as 
the water off Cape Cod, and there are 
those who consider the Ilackemsack as 
fine a stream as the Missis.sipi)i. We d > 
not care to live anywhere else, but on a 
day like this there will come soft memo¬ 
ries of the old home town. Out in the 
West it is different, because society is 
new there, and the pioneer or his children 
can make about what they like out of it. 
In the older and more conservative East 
there are certain habits of thought and 
work which belong to the locality, and 
the new-comer must observe them or be¬ 
come more or less of an outlaw. 
New Faces Wanted. —Sometimes, 
when I go back to the old town, I begin 
to wonder if it was not after all a mis¬ 
take to go wandering away from it. Life 
seems peaceful there, and I know only 
too well that the rest of the world has 
its full share of trouble and strife. Then 
I find .some old-time friend who says, 
“Sometimes I think I have made a mi-!- 
take in sticking close to the old town. Of 
course, I know it is true that ‘old friends 
are best’—yet at times they get a little 
stale, and I wish I had more new friends, 
and that I could see new things and a 
■wider range of life!” So it is as broad 
as it is long. While I may be thinking of 
old friends back near the Cape, they may 
be wishing they were out in the world, 
living in new communities, and able to 
take a broader view of life. If the man 
out in the world went “back home” to 
live he would feel stifled at times. If the 
man “back home” broke awnay he • would 
feel sad enough at times for a look at the 
old place. As for me, the big friendly 
family of Tjie R. N.-Y. gives me thought 
and company on days like this one. 
A Gueat FAiaLY. —What a company 
our people make! There is nothing quite 
like it in the wmrld. I do not believe 
there is another paper on earth to which 
country people turn with greater confi¬ 
dence and good will. Take all our read¬ 
ers togethei', and they would equal the 
population of nearlj' two States like Ver¬ 
mont, or three or four great Western 
States. Every occupation known to men 
and women will be found represented in 
our ranks. If every person outside The 
R. N.-Y. family were destroyed to-morrow 
I believe there would still be found men 
and women capable of carrying on every 
known useful occupation. From the ac¬ 
tuary to the zymologist we can supply 
them all from our ranks, and the best 
part of it all is that they seem to be bound 
together by such a tie of fi-iendship that 
they are all ready to help each other. 
Not long ago we printed a note from a 
man who wanted word of an old-fashioned 
apple variety. We have had more than 
25 offers to supply this wmod. 
Met By Chance. —A noveli.s't could 
take our daily correspondence and find in 
it material for a dozen “great American 
stories.” The most stnking thing is the 
way readers of The R. N.-Y. find each 
other in unexpected places. Here is a 
note from a Massachusetts man—a jour¬ 
neyman printer, who does more or less 
wandering about—alwmys turning up in 
the old town at intervals: 
Two weeks ago I started working as a 
planter for the proprietor of a job .shop 
in Atlanta, Ga., r.nd one day got to talk¬ 
ing with him and his wife about farming. 
They started to tell me about a paper I 
ought to take if I was interested in firm¬ 
ing—it was the best thing they had seen, 
etc., and it expo.sed all the schemes and 
rogues. I told them I had taken it 13 
year.s, and then asked them if it wasn’t 
The Rural New-Yorker. They looked 
surprised and said yes. 'So send along 
some envelopes; I’ll give them out as I 
have opportunity. The fact that I am 
working for an honest paper, devoted to 
farmers’ interests, is reward enough for 
me, H. E, R. 
Now here was a man from the Con¬ 
necticut Valley who had w'andered far 
down to Atlanta, Ga. Whenever a man 
travels very far north or south from his 
home latitude he feels a little lonely in 
spite of all he can do. It is not like work¬ 
ing East or West along the latitude of 
the home town. I guess it is somewhat 
like those blueberry plants which Miss 
Elizabeth White is propagating. The 
Yankee does best on a ratber thin and 
acid soil! One may well ask what a 
I)rinter would have to do with a paper 
like ours. Yet even in that Southern 
country it was the friendly feeling which 
goes with The R, N.-Y. which sent them 
all to pre.ss with the ink of a lasting 
friendship. 
Reader By Chance. —Then comes this 
one from “an old but unknown friend”: 
Enclosed find check for renewal sub- 
.scrii)tion on account of Mrs. Therese 
Schwenk, your faithful friend. Since her 
eyesight is failing her I have the privi¬ 
lege of reading her paper to her. I am 
always very much interested in it, al¬ 
though you might think a teacher of Ger¬ 
man, French and Si)anish would have 
quite different interests. I assure you, 
however, I am interested and find The 
R. N.-Y. full of good things. It is a 
breath of country air after a stuffy school 
room. EMILIE .SCHNEIDER. 
Mrs. Schwenk was one of the 30 women 
who entered a “favorite hen” in the egg- 
laying contest two years ago. I shall 
always remember the fine spirit and good 
nature Mrs. Schwenk show’ed in that con¬ 
test. Her hen did not do as well as we 
all hoped she would, and we made a mi.s- 
take here in giving her the wrong name. 
I fear some women I know would have 
made life something of a burden to us 
for this, but Mrs. Schwenk did not blame 
anyone—not even the hen. As for the 
mistake about the name she merely said : 
“It is the privilege of every lady to have 
her najne changed !” Mrs. Schwenk will 
forgive me if I say she is a true spoi't, 
and I am told she is accepting her coming 
afflictions with the true fortitude of a 
“faithful friend.” 
The Teacher. —But you see when we 
are all i)ut off on that desert island we 
shall have full instruction in these mod¬ 
ern languages. It gives us all a kindly 
feeling to think that IMrs. Schwenk, as 
§he passes along into the darkness, likes 
to carry with her the record of The R, 
N.-Y. people. I know a deaf man who 
tells me that he has not, for some years, 
heard any of the so-called “pop\ilar” 
music. Years ago he had as friends sev¬ 
eral old musicians who played and sang 
the world’s great, glorious nnisic. They 
were “old timers.” The singer's voice 
had begun to crack and the hand which 
held the violin bow trembled a little. They 
had been discarded by polite and musical 
society, but you should have heard them 
on a Summer night when the moonlight 
lay along the streets of the Western town 
which was struggling for life on the 
I)rairie. The river went ripplfng over its 
sandy bed, the mountain tops stood up 
into the moonlight, and ghostly memories 
from the “home towns” back East peered 
out of the shadows as these old men 
played and sang. My deaf friend i.s 
thankful that he had this music drilled 
into his mind, and that he has never heard 
the modern “ragtime” and stupid senti¬ 
ment. Our new friend will not long be 
“unknown,” but thousands of our people 
will think of her as she reads to her 
afflicted friend, and look about to see how 
they too may help the unfortunate. 
The Farh Paper. —I am sure that I 
have at least 500 othe. k .ters just as 
good and just as suggestive. These two 
will give you an idea of the way our peo¬ 
ple feel. I sometimes wonder how it has 
been possible to develop this kindly spirit 
(Continued on page 506) 
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