^40 
RURAL N EW-YO R K E R 
February 1<>. 101S 
lOuiersou W'i!cox threw down his iiews- 
j>iil)er with a suort of disgust. 
“Gary Philpot gets worse and worse,” 
he declared. “Listen to this, Mary.” He 
■jneked up the ofl'ending iiaper, adjusted 
his specs and began: 
“ ‘If anybody on earth should bo eager 
to subscribe to Liberty Bonds, buy War 
Savings and Thrift Stamps, subscribe lil)- 
erally to the Bed Cross, Y. M. C. A., and 
kindred organizations, it is the farmers. 
Kverything they have to sell is bringing 
big j)rices, and they don't have to plank 
down good, hard dollars for everything 
they eat, either. Wake up, farmers ! The 
TJ. S. Agricultural Department says you 
got several millions of dollars more for 
your produce in 1017 than in any pre¬ 
vious year. Sunshine and rain don’t cost 
you any more. Kverything we fellows in 
town buy does. Wake up! Buy less 
automobiles and more W’ar Stamps. Shell 
out I’ ” 
Again the paper hit the floor, 
“Shucks!” he exclaime<l. “The Philpots 
forget they used to be farmers. I rec’lect 
Gary’s dad told me once that nobody with 
any get-up to him.would staj' on a farm 
and w'ork forty-eight hours a day to make 
a bare living. T tell you. Km,’ he. says, 
‘there’s only this dift'erence between a 
farmer and a convict: A farmer knows 
there ain’t any end to his work, and isn't 
sure of his keep; wdiile a convict knows 
he won’t have to work moic than ten 
hour.s a day, and that he’s sure of three 
meals every tAveuty-four hours-—rain or 
shine. A man Avith a gilt band ’round 
his cap tells the convict Avhat he's got to 
do, and another man that drives around 
in a rubber-tired buggy tells the farmer 
Avhat he's got to take.’ 
“I don't see as Gary’s so much to 
blame—he's been brought up at the 
(■(Minty .seat, but 1 see the old man .still 
l>riuts his name as ('ditor; and while he 
dot's that, he ought to .st'e there aint 
anything gets in his jiajier that’ll insult 
seventy-flve per cent of his subscribers. 
But 1 suppos(> h(‘ thinks if he jih'a.ses his 
advertisers it'll pay better in the end, be¬ 
cause farmers ’ll sAvallow anything and 
then leave tlndr subscription money on the. 
mant<d for the collector Avhen ho comes 
around.” 
"Well,” .said his Avife, "I don’t bother 
to read his editorials. He steals all the 
good ones from the city jiapers, and his 
oAvn have too many ‘don’ts’ for ‘doe.sn’ts’ 
to suit me. After I’ve rt'ad the locals, 
all the use 1 have for his paper is to 
spread it under the carpet—it keeps out 
a lot (tf cold in Winter.” 
“Seems to im* a dollar and a half a year 
is pretiy e.\i>ensive floor covering,” said 
her husband. 
“Only fifty cents,'' she rei)lie(l. “I get 
a dollar's worth of )deasure out of know¬ 
ing Avhat my m'ighboi's are up to. There’s 
somebody at tin.* door, Km. Wlouder 
Avho’s out this stormy night?” 
‘■‘Come in. Bose; come in, Alf,” in¬ 
vited Wil(j:ox. “And come right up to the 
stove, Bose, and let me help you oil’ Avith 
your things,” Avelcomed hi.S wife. 
.\fter the usual g<»ssip, Kmersou re¬ 
turned to his grievance. He read the edi¬ 
torial to the McClintocks. 
“What do y<Mi think of that for a rak¬ 
ing over?'’ he asked them. 
‘‘Hits me right where I li\'e,” said Mc- 
Cliiitock. “.lustAilike that piece in the 
Bible Avhere it tells about the feller that 
Avas going to build more barns to stoAV 
away his crops in. I Avas Avondering 
Avhere in Sam Hill I Avas going to put my 
potatoe.s—and along comes .Tack Frost 
and locks up over half of ’em secure for 
the Winter. I see in one of the city 
l)apers that a chap claims he can raise 
potatoes for sixty cents a bushel and 
make money—must be able to buy dyna¬ 
mite cheaper than X can.” 
“11—mm— another one of these be¬ 
nighted farmers I" .said Kmersou seA'erely 
—but there Avas a tAvinkle in his eye. 
“What you lack, Alf, is ‘efficiency.’ Any 
city man Avill tell you that you should 
have had those potatoes out of the ground 
before the frost came. A\"hat? Too much 
Avet? Why, one of those city fanners 
Avould hiiA’e wired the Weather Bureau 
and had the rain turned out to sea until 
his potatoes Avere dug. 
“The front nanu's of those felloAvs is 
Kfticiency, Alf. Did you ever hear of 
anything br4‘aking doAvn in their fac¬ 
tories? f)r of such a thing as a railroad 
a(;cident? S^ee how they geF things done 
on time—Mary ordered a satchel to give 
to Alice at Christmas; it Avas shipped 
promptly thirty-one days after she or¬ 
dered it, and it got here just a Aveek 
after Alice Aveut home. I>ook at that for 
efficiency! It only took ten days to haul 
that sat—er, suitca.se ,‘100 miles, and 
Avhen I was a boy it used to take ’em 
as long as that to go twice as far on 
horseback, ^ow if you had had men 
enough, jwi—” 
“Men!” niared McClintock. “If 
Shakespeare Avas Avriting noAvadays, he’d 
bread by eating plum We got 
those bulletin.s, too. ’1,^ , ' draAvback 
I can .see is that if Ave five according to 
them, Alf '11 have to give up the farm 
and get a job in a munitions factory to 
furnish the money.” 
“Moi’e inefficiency!” said Kmer.son. “If 
you women knew enough to come in out 
of the Avet, you'd substitute oysters and 
clams for that everlasting pork. But I 
aint got any stones to throAv. If I'd be(>n 
efficient. I’d have got the Avhole of my 
flint corn in, instead of leaA’ing half of it 
out there for the i-ats and skunks to eat. 
To be sure, if I had, I should have lost 
my turn at the silage cutter, and I 
Avouldn’t have got my potatoes dug. And 
that reminds me, Alf—your potatoes in 
the ground aint frozen much harder, than 
mine in.the cellar. It’s never frrezen in 
our cellar before, and I thought I’d made 
a good job of it Avheu I covered the bank¬ 
ing Avith tAVo feet of snoAV and put in an 
oil-stove, Avhen that cold Avave struck us. 
One of those efficiency men Avould have 
known it Avas going to last a Aveek, and 
jMit in a furnace.” 
“You lost some potatoes Avith the rot, 
didn’t you. Km? And you such a crank 
for spraying, too!’’ 
“More inefficiency !” said Kmersou. “If 
I'd iH'en as efficient as those city farmers 
r- What.you lack, Alf. is ‘Efficiency’” 
make Bichard say, ‘A m.in ! A man! 
My kingdom and all tin? horses you can 
lead home for a man!’ You knoAV you 
offered .$4 a day yourself and couldn’t 
eA’en get a Avooden-legged man.” 
“I know, Alf,” said Wilcox; “but that 
only goes to shoAV that I aint any more 
efficient than you arc. Noav those city 
farmers Avould have got men if they had 
to hatch ’em out in incubators. T'^hat’s 
efficiency ! Why, those felloAvs can have 
meatless days and not spend a cent over 
six dollars for three meals! And here 
Mary and I are living mostly on salt pork 
and potatoes—Avhat did you and Bose 
have for dinner today?” 
“Pork and potattx'S.” 
“To be sure I Our Avives aint any 
more efficient than Ave are. Hoav about 
tho.se food bulletins, Mary?’’ 
Mary and Bo.se stopped kpitting for 
the Bed Cross and took up the parable. 
“Well,” said Mary, “they’ve taught me 
t(> economize on breakfasts, for one thing. 
You can save a lot of money by adding 
oranges at 50 cents a dozen to Avhat 
you’d have, anyhow.” 
“Ye.s.” Bose added, “and you can save 
a Avhole lot more on dinners. You can 
have duck or turkey, and send the salt 
pork to the soldiers over in France. And 
you can save sugar by putting it in grape 
or currant jelly, and you can save Avheat 
I'd have tested that s|M-aying material 
Avith a stetho.scope to see Avhether it had 
the heaves or not, before I put it on. But 
I aint as bad as you— really, I'm sur¬ 
prised at you squandering your money on 
automobiles!” 
“Me!” exclaimed the astonisluHl Mc- 
Cliutock. “You don’t call that pile of 
junk an automobile! I never start to 
climb a hill Avith it Avithout exp(;ctiug to 
land at the bottom Avith Bo.se on top, 
and nothing left of me but a grease spot. 
Didn’t cost me a red cent, either. After 
Arthur aa’us drafted I traded his rubber- 
tired buggy for it and got a bushel of ap¬ 
ples to boot.” 
“What do you do Avith all your money, 
then'?” Wilcox sternly demanded. 
“Money is it?” Alf returned sarcastic¬ 
ally. “Money! I turned my last milk 
check over to Ed Graham at the mill, and 
Avaited for the change. He stood there 
awhile, tAviddling it betAveen his lingers 
and saying ‘yes’ and ‘no’ to my remarks 
about the Aveather. Then, seeing I Avasn’t 
in much of a hurry, he says, ‘You oAve me 
40 cents yet.’ I handed him my last half- 
dollar and told him to give me a bag of 
salt for the other ten cents. I thought I 
might as well be busted as broke. When 
it Avas too late I rec’lected Bose told me 
to get her .some postage stamps, so I run 
in 
a blufl!, op . .Doyle ai)(J tgld hiin 
Bo.se hadn't ordered any table salt, and 
Avanted her money back. He said he Avas 
sorry, and handed over the ten cents— 
you bet he Avon't lo.se anything by it- 
and I got the stamps.” 
“But you slxMildn’t get .short that Avay 
—it isn’t efficient,” persisted Wilcox. 
“No, it aint,” admitted McGliutook, 
“only you aint the one to throAV it ui» to 
me. AVhen they made the Y. M. (1. 
and the Bed Cross drives Bose and I had 
to come jicross with ten for each, Avhen 
Ave’d calculfftt'd on about five. But Bose 
said if Km and Miiry could afford that 
much Ave ought to be able to. You're' a 
nice one to talk, you are!” 
“Yes,” said Mary, “he’s a scribe, and a 
I’hari.see, iuul a hypo(!rite. W’oe unto 
him! The tax notice came out the day 
before (.'hristma.s—to make us feel gotnl, 1 
supiKAse—and he lacks !jt5.<)<) of haA’ing 
enough to pay it, iind there’s only a feAV 
days more to run.” 
“Well, Ave'll have to be going,” .said 
McClintock. “ 'Taint a great while till 
milking-time.” 
“Thei’e’s more truth than poetry in 
that,” .said his Avife; “but you aint going 
to sneak off Avithout telling hoAV much 
you lack of your tax money.” 
“Who—me?” blufl’ed he; “I don’t lack 
a cent.” 
“No you don’t I” said Bose. “But you 
lack all the dollars. Go(xl-night, folks.” 
“Good-night,” from the Wilcox’s. Then 
Em’s v<dce alone: 
“Y<Mi’re a bloated millionaire, Alf‘— 
don’t forget that.” 
“Yes,” came Alf’s voice from the dark¬ 
ness, “and you're another!” 
ilARKY AYRKS. 
The Farmer’s Side of Selling Eggs 
'rhere are ahvays tAvo (and sometimes 
more) sides to a st<>ry, and the article 
by Bobert Mason, page 74, pre.sents his 
side of that (“gg (luestion very plausibly, 
but the farmer in the case is no doubt 
too busy to (h'fend himsidf. so I Avant to 
t<‘ll Mr. Mason something of our side of 
it. I have for several years kept a flock 
of about ‘JtK) hens (more or less, accord¬ 
ing to si'ason.) My pulh'ts are hatched 
to lay early, and the eggs are mostly 
(please don’t expire, any one!) .sold at 
the grocery’. We are trying to run a farm 
of 1(H) acres Avithmit help (other than tAVo 
little school girls of 12 and 15) and as 
AA’e are (‘ight mih's from town, peddling 
to customers is out of the question. It 
Avouldn’t be (piite so bad if all cus¬ 
tomers paid cash, but even those Avith 
Avhom it is not a nec('ssity, often have to 
be carried Aveek after Aveek, iuA'olving a 
systein of book-ke(‘ping Avhich the average 
farmer fe(‘ls that he has no time to under¬ 
take. 
A feAA' years ago, .some frif'ivds of my 
sister, in a toAvn 12 mih's distant, Avere 
very anxious to obtain fn'sh eggs to put 
in AA'Uter glass, as she Avas doing. It AAms 
a busy time and Ave could not deliver 
them, but they had several motor cars 
among them, so they got the eggs and 
paid cash, and there their interest in the 
transaction ended. They Avere in no hurry 
to return the crates to the point agreed 
upon, and thongli I have a good supiily 
of crates, I Avas obligi'd to borrow crates 
until I Avas heartily tired of it. Then 
Avhen they did return, fillers and dividers 
were torn and ruined, or missing entirely, 
and in one instance, tAVo crates AV('re 
smashed into kindling wood. If those eggs 
had been delivered to the grocery, the 
crates Avould have been emptied and re¬ 
turned the same day, and our grocer in¬ 
variably substitutes fresh fillers and di¬ 
viders for the old Avorn ones. They are 
A’ery inexpensive to buy, but Ave are too 
far from toAvn to get all such things at a 
moment’s notice. 
I agree Avith Mr. Mason that it Avas 
poor business policy not to answer an in¬ 
quiry, but just becinuse one man sends in 
a hurry call for a crate of eggs is no good 
reason for pluming oneself with the idea 
that the millenium has come. The time 
(Continued on uage 255.) 
