'Jht RURAL NEW-YORKER 
888 
May 24, 1919 
Pastoral Parson and His Country Folks 
By Rev. George B. Gilbert 
Saturday Night. —Ilpre it is, Satur¬ 
day night, and the Parson at home. He 
is • supposed to be some 14 miles down 
country tonight in an abandoned church, 
holding a great sociable, with pictures. 
This cold raw northeaster has kept him 
at home. It seems to have rained stead¬ 
ily for 36 hours, and is raining now. The 
weather man says “Probably rain tomor¬ 
row.” We had much in store for today, 
with the boys at home, but then, how the 
grass has grown ! “A rainy May makes a 
barnful of hay,” so let it rain tomorrow 
if it wants to. The oats are up and like 
this rain as well as the grass does. Corn 
is not planted yet, but if the weather had 
been good today we would have had the 
land all ready. This is May 9, and there 
is no hurry about getting it in. 
Those Geese Again. —We will never 
set a goose again. We staked our hatch 
largely on two geese sitting on 11 eggs 
each, and they never hatched a gosling. 
They are forever fussing with their nests 
and moving their eggs and pulling more 
straw and leaves around themselves, till 
one of them covered her eggs entirely up! 
If we are going to try to raise geese we 
shall have to have more hens of a breed 
that will sit. In the picture you will see 
Sit attending to the little geese that the 
hen hatched out and to little Charlesie 
Boy at the same time. 
Those Windmills. —The boys, at least 
three of them, have spent the day largely 
in the shop you see, making more wind¬ 
mills. This craze has lasted the longest 
of any. They have free access to the 
saws, bits, and all the tools here, and 
make great use of a large vise we got the 
other day from someone who was selling 
out. The oldest boy has produced a won¬ 
derful airplane. lie says it is a biplane, 
with two barrel staves as the planes. To¬ 
morrow, even if it is Sunday, there will 
probably be added a big propeller, and the 
whole thing will be mounted on the 
clothes pole you see in the picture. lie 
has just called for paint to paint it with, 
but at .$4 a gallon the Parson thinks it 
can wait a while. 
Overdoing It. —The other day the 
boys found the little duck and her nest. 
She is a little thing—wild duck variety— 
and there she was, trying to keep 16 eggs 
warm enough so they would hatch ! Most 
of them were as cold as a stone. We 
tested them out with a lantern placed in 
a nail keg with an inch hole for the light 
to come through, and found not one of 
them was going to hatch, so all were 
thrown away. Now she has made a new 
nest back of the silo and has started in 
again. Will she know any better this 
time? Probably not. So it is with so 
many of us. 
Going in Too Deep. —When can we all 
learn not to have so much stuff that we 
cannot see to it well? A girl has just 
been here to get more eggs for her father 
to set in the incubator. lie works in 
town and has little time at. home. He 
already has a hundred chickens. More 
than half of all he had last year died be¬ 
cause he could not see to them. He has 
to buy every bit of grain. And now he is 
going to put in ISO more eggs! With 
grain as it is now the Parson questions 
whether it pays to raise anything for 
which you have to buy all it eats. “If six 
hens lays five eggs a day. how many eggs 
will 600 hens lay in a day?” asked the 
Parson down at a school one day. “None.” 
shouted a small boy on the front seat. He 
got it about right. 
Raising Chickens. —If it were not for 
the fact that we all dote on broilers so, I 
doubt if we would raise many, if any 
chickens. Better look around in the Win¬ 
ter and buy hens. A growing chicken 
eats an awful lot of corn. We have the 
work side of it reduced to a minimum, 
however. The incubator chickens are 
given to the hens to bring up, planning it 
so that each hen hatches a chick or two; 
then they will own all you will give them. 
Put the hen in a coop and do not let her 
out at all. Four hens will bring up 100. 
The Parson knew of a White Leghorn 
hen bringing up 40 in warm weather and 
never lost one. 
Hens and Holidays. —The Parson 
never realized how much it may mean to 
a farmer to keep track of the Jewish holi¬ 
days. Hens, literally, went out of sight 
around Easter time in this section. A 
flock on the other street of mixed breeds, 
quite a few Leghorns, setters and every¬ 
thing. right through, brought 40 cents 
a pound, alive, or over $41. We let 
two hens go for $5.20—$2.60 apiece. One 
large Wyandotte was very much wanted 
by the dealer. He offered $3.10 for her. 
Later on a Jewish family ’phoned out and 
offered 45 cents : pound alive for a very 
fat hen. This bird would have brought 
just $3.60. as she weighs just eight 
pounds. We did not let her go as she is 
the best hen on the farm. It is claimed 
dealers got 55 cents for Leghorns the 
night before Easter. Few farmers ap¬ 
parently got what they should, the dealer 
making the money. One such boasted to 
the Parson that he had just bought a hen 
that weighed nine pounds for $2. He cer¬ 
tainly pot $4.50 for this same hen, and 
quite likely $5. 
That One Pullet. —People who go 
into chickens, especially those from the 
city, little realize what luck is liable to 
await them. If you are near town th<^ 
cats will look after your hatch, and if 
out in the country the hawks and foxes 
will relieve you of surplus stock. If 
midway, the crows will have an eye out 
for a tender lunch. One woman had an 
early hatch of eight very nice Barred 
Rocks. She counted on the early pullets 
for Fall laying. Eggs would be high and 
they would well pay for so much trouble. 
Lo and behold, seven of the lot were roost¬ 
ers ! But then, there was one pullet. A 
crow winged his solitary flight across the 
meadow and past the barn. Was it mal¬ 
ice aforethought or luck or what? He 
swooped down and took that one pullet 
and disappeared for the brush land ! 
Cats and Neighbors. —The Parson 
has heard of many ways of getting people 
to keep their hens at home, but he heard 
a new one the other day on the. way to 
make people keep their cats at home. 
This woman bated cats above all things, 
and though her hens were ever on the 
neighbor’s lawn, yet his cat must keep 
away from her porch. So she poured 
kerosene all along the fence and then 
sprinkled red pepper over this. When 
that cat got upon that fence, mind me, 
weeks ago Saturday and this is all there 
is left.” She opened the cellar door and 
showed a part of a ham hanging there. 
“But sauerkraut is the great food,” she 
went on ; “we eat it three times a day 
with the pork. You will never need the 
doctor if you have enough.” The Parson 
unhitched the old mare and turned home¬ 
wards. He was of thoughtful mien. “We 
must plant the farm to cabbage,” he said 
to himself as he reached for the whip, as 
though to hurry home and order the 
plants at once. 
A New Church. —At one of the Par¬ 
son’s stations Ave have ventured to pro¬ 
cure a building for a new church. Yes, 
it is likely to be a new kind of church. 
It is going to be the most cheerful and 
sociable place in this county. It is go¬ 
ing to be home-like, and the aim of all the 
congregation is to be like a big happy 
family, with all the helpfulness and sym¬ 
pathy that goes with family life. The 
entrance is right on a level with the 
street; when the door is open, as it will be 
a great deal of the time, you can hardly 
help slipping right in. 
No Pews. —If any man carries a pew 
into this church it will mark the sorriest 
day of his life. What an unsociable, un¬ 
comfortable relic of Puritanism, if not of 
barbarism, a pew is! How set and im¬ 
movable they look, row upon row, well 
spiked to the floor, as the occupants are 
spiked to the customs of the past. Many 
a country church is prevented from bc- 
Attends to the Goslinys 
there was something doing right away! 
This is suggested as a fine way to promote 
brotherly love among neighbors. 
Getting Pigs. —The Parson seems to 
fall into all kinds of experiences when he 
goes to buy pigs. A while ago he pulled 
up one Monday morning ’way down coun¬ 
ty to see if he could purchase a pair. A 
little woman was chasing some lusty pork¬ 
ers at that very moment around the cor¬ 
ner of the barn ; evidently h(: had hit the 
right place. After pickin ' out a likely 
pair, he followed the woman to the kitch¬ 
en to write out a check. She opened a 
high cupboard and handed him down the 
last copy of The R. N.-Y. as a pad to 
write on. She knew the Parson’s articles 
better than he knew them himself. He 
noticed several children about. “How 
many have you?” he queried. “Twelve,” 
came the ready answer; “three girls and 
nine boys. We have never lost one and 
never had a doctor in the house since we 
were married. When that boy arrived,” 
she continued, pointing to a lusty lad of 
about 10 years, “none of the girls were at 
home and there was not a woman or doc¬ 
tor in the house. I washed and dressed 
my own baby and in the morning they 
brought me the sponge I had made up the 
night before and the bread tins and I got 
the bread ready.” “Do you mean you 
never had a doctor at all ?” asked the Par¬ 
son. “I certainly do,” she said. “When 
the children feel a cold coming on, I just 
steep up some these pine needles from this 
big pine in the dooryard and give them a 
big dose at night and they are all right in 
the morning.” The Parson thought the 
case worthy of a further investigation. 
“What do you live on chiefly?” he asked. 
“Pork and sauerkraut,” came the instant 
l^spunse.” “We killed a good-sized hog two 
coming a useful, happy community ad¬ 
junct by the presence of those forbidding 
monsters. If people don’t really own 
them now as they used to, they think and 
act as though they did. Just the other 
Sunday a woman went into a fashionable 
church and found a humble sinner occu¬ 
pying her place. About half way through 
the service she bent over and whispered 
to the tired stranger, "It’s all right, it’s 
all right, but I just thought I would tell 
you that you are in my pew. It’s all 
right; it's all right; stay right there.” 
Wasn’t that just like a regular pew sit¬ 
ter! No, there will be no pew in the 
Parson’s new church. 
That Rocking Chair. —We have gath¬ 
ered up a collection of chairs such as one 
would have in a home. They are mostly 
worn chairs. This is better. You don’t 
feel as though you were in a furniture 
store. One woman came the first Sunday 
with her cane, as she has rheumatism 
badly. She was immediately shown to 
a great big easy rocking chair. The Par¬ 
son will never forget how comfortable 
and happy she looked, rocking to and fro, 
during the sermon. More rockers have 
been promised. Mothers with their babies 
will have rockers for them. As soon as 
we get a cook stove in the basement the 
savor of steeping coffee will lend brevity 
to the sermon. “Dome was never like 
this,” murmured the old lady in the rock¬ 
er last Sunday as the sound of the reces¬ 
sional died away. How can we get the 
congregation to go home to supper when 
the dm waiter is all installed ! 
Democracy in Church.—O ne of the 
things that has brought this mission up 
so, from being on its very last h'gs, is the 
purely democratic way in which all its 
affairs are mud ucted. All business meet¬ 
ings are held on Sunday, right after-ser¬ 
vice, with everybody that comes to 
church invited to attend. Everyone has 
his or her say about everything, and all 
matters are thrashed out with everybody 
having a voice. A majority vote settles 
the question, and one vote is as big as 
another. 
A Useful Church. —We have ordered 
six keys for this building, and one will be 
kept nearby. There will be books for 
reading in here, and papers and maga¬ 
zines. A special committee will be ap¬ 
pointed to have the Sunday papers there 
every Sunday morning before church 
opens. This will be paid for out of the 
church treasury. Any one of our big 
church family who happens to be down in 
the center of the village where our build¬ 
ing is can drop in here any time for a chat 
with friends or while waiting for the 
mail, or to look over the papers. The 
youths of the village will dance and make 
merry on this floor, and the boys of the 
street corners can meet down stairs and 
bang their heads against the walls as 
much as (hey please without hurting the 
walls or the feelings of the members. 
Most church buildings are consecrated to 
God. which may be very well, but this one 
will be consecrated to the mutual welfare 
and happiness of Ilis children, who seem 
to need it fully as much. No doubt the 
Father of the Universe has great use for 
empty churches, dark and gloomy, with 
endowments locked away in vaults, but 
the Parson’s poor mind is so dense he 
cannot see it. 
The Windows. —From the picture you 
see this place has a great many win¬ 
dows. It was built for a carpenter’s 
shop, and He who was brought up in 
such a place and worked there many years 
would well appreciate the value of God’s 
rich sunlight. Why should it be shut out 
of a church? There are 14 windows in 
this place, and 14 will stay there with the 
daylight streaming in. There will be 
shades to pull down for stereopticon work, 
for we will have many pictures, and there 
will be draperies and pictures on the 
walls to make it look like home. It cer¬ 
tainly would be a joke if the sisters found 
it harder to get the brethren to go home 
from church than it used to be to get 
them to go! When the Parson took this 
place there wasn’t a single man at the ser¬ 
vices, but now the men folks are right on 
the job. 
The Singing. —The singing here will 
not be after the representative sort. We 
shall all try to make a “joyful noise unto 
the Lord” as best we can. The dean of a 
great music school says that a congrega¬ 
tion is never out of tune. Every organ 
is always out of tune—perfect tune. A 
choir can be out of perfect harmony! 
But a congregation, never. For though 
some will be flat, some also will be sharp, 
and it will balance right and make the 
whole in tune. If we ever do sing the 
Te Deum, which God forbid, those who 
want may stand, those who don’t want 
needn’t. 
Time to Quit. —If Mrs. Parson saw 
that she would say it was high time to 
bring this letter to a close, and so it is. 
For it is Sunday afternoon now, cold and 
cloudy and quite dreary. But the Parson 
will load in the graphophone and the 
stereopticon with the hymnals aud prayer- 
books for a seven-mile trip to a down- 
country schoolhouse, and all who come 
will be cheerful and happy the whole long 
evening through. 
Living Prices for Butter 
Of the half dozen agricultural journals 
that reach me, yours stands easily at the 
head, not only because its articles smack 
most of the earth and the sweat and din 
of the farmer’s daily battle, but also be¬ 
cause of your determined insistence, con¬ 
stantly repeated in new and convincing 
forms, on a square deal for the farmers, 
as a class. I have taken to heart your 
advice that this light should be taken up 
locally, and am sending you “literature” 
that T used in attempt to get a fair price 
for the farmers’ butter in the local mar¬ 
ket. In seven years I have led the way 
from 25 cents per lb. to 60 cents, and 
every step upward has been fought for. 
I find you get nothing you do not ask 
for. But one man has said to me “Your 
butter is worth more money than you are 
asking for it,” and he was preacher, 
and you know they are considered un¬ 
practical, and hence do not count. You 
are usually met with “What! pay 60 
cents for butter when I can buy it for 
50 cents?” “But, my dear sir, 50 cents 
does not pay the cost of the feed that 
makes the pound of butter, not saying 
anything of a dozen other items of cost.” 
“Oh, well, I am not a philanthropist; let 
the other fellow look out for himself.” 
It is the old cry of Cain the murderer: 
“Am I my brother’s keeper? Why should 
I look out for him?” 
My customers are splendid people, no 
man ever had better, and yet I am con¬ 
vinced that if I offered my butter at 15 
cents they would buy and use it with an 
untroubled conscience, even though they 
knew that the almshouse awaited me at 
the end of the road. The consuming 
public, and this includes farmers us well, 
should be taught to ask “How much did 
it cost to produce an article” as well as 
“how cheaply can it be bought?” And 
this brings me to the query, why is it 
that a merchant is believed at once when 
he says an article cost so much, but when 
a farmer talks cost he is told either by 
word or looks that he is either lying or 
does not know what he is talking about. 
—.. .S. . . 
