I 14 
HOPE FARM NOTES 
I have stolen a couple of hours tonight 
for reading. That is about what it means, 
for at this season we have work enough 
for double days. But tonight I propose 
to visit—get away from “everyday life and 
go and see some of the big characters 
whitdi even the critical hand of time can¬ 
not cut out of history. Well, what shall 
I read? Here is “Creative Chemistry,’’ a 
wonderful book of human progress in 
beating nature at her own game. Here is 
“The Education of Henry Adams,” a 
ponderous, thoughtful book, on the train¬ 
ing of a man. My daughter is studying 
the life of William Livingston, and has a 
history of New Jersey to help her. I have 
not quite finished the autobiography of 
Wilmer Atkinson—and there is that great 
book by .T. Russell Smith on “The World’s 
Food Resources.” That is about the most 
optimistic view of our future food supply 
I have yet seen. There are half a dozen 
others in sight, but I think I will take up 
“The Bradford History” tonight. My 
folks have gone out to some entertainment 
and I am here before the fire with no 
companion except Bruce, the big Airedale 
dog. lie lies on his mat at the other side 
of the fireplace. I did let in the gray cat, 
but I must put him out before the mis¬ 
tress comes back. 
* * * * * 
This “Bradford History” is the story of 
Plymouth “plantations” by Wm. Bradford, 
one of the early governors of Plymouth. 
The story of this book is one of the most 
remarkable things that ever happened to 
written pages. The book was written as 
one would naturally write a diary, and 
the sheets were bound together in book 
form. Portions of it were printed 200 
years or more ago, and then in some 
strange way the manuscript disappeared. 
No one knows who took it, but at about 
the time the Revolution started this pre¬ 
cious volume disappeared from view. It 
remained unheard-of in this country until 
in 1844 Samuel Wilberforee, an English 
bishop, wrote a history of the Episcopal 
Church in America. It contained extracts 
from manuscrips which the bishop said lie 
had discovered in a library at Fulham, 
England. An American, on reading this 
book, was convinced that some of the ex¬ 
tracts came from Bradford’s History. Fol¬ 
lowing up that clue they actually traced 
the old manuscript to the library at Ful¬ 
ham. To shorten the story it is enough to 
say that after much discussion the English 
authorities sent the book back, and it was 
received with great ceremony by Massa¬ 
chusetts. Senator Geo. F. Hoar, who 
made the speech of acceptance, said he 
could find only one incident like it in his¬ 
tory. That was when the Scotch found 
by accident in a chest in the castle of Ed¬ 
inburgh the ancient regalia of Scotland. 
It was the crown of Robert Bruce and the 
scepter and sword of state. There they 
had lain hidden for 111 years, to the great 
grief of many loyal Scotch. Sir T\ alter 
Scott stood by when these relics were 
found, and his daughter reports that he 
suddenly broke forth in anger: 
“7?;/ God. no!” 
It seems that one of the party, probab¬ 
ly some radical not greatly impressed by 
royalty, had jokingly started to put the 
crown on the head of a young woman who 
was with the party. Very likely she was 
to him the “queen among women.” but 
to a royalist like Scott the act seemed lit¬ 
tle short of blasphemous! At any rate 
this “Bradford History” which I am read¬ 
ing tonight has had a history which almost 
justifies Senator Hoar’s tribute: “There 
is nothing like it in human annals since 
the story of Bethlehem.” 
***** 
I read about that incident in Scottish 
history and put down the book in order to 
think‘the idea out. That. I take it, is 
the way to read a strong book. I never 
did think much of those skimmers whose 
only ambition is to get to the end. As I 
sat there thinking I am quite sure that 
Bruce, the big Airedale, opened his big 
brown eye and looked at me as if to say: 
“Right! I was named for Robert Bruce, 
and what you are thinking about the de¬ 
velopment of the human mind is correct. 
My ancestors knew yours under different 
circumstances. I can tell you !” 
Now. of course. I know that there are 
many Americans who will not agree with 
Senator Hoar in his estimate of Plymouth 
and the Pilgrims. When I was a boy 
Cape Cod and New England stood for far 
more in national life than they do today. 
The New England men will tell you that 
is because the rest of the country has ab¬ 
sorbed the ideals of his section until the 
Yankee has no longer a patent on them. 
Few seem to grasp the fact that New 
England was strongest and most influen¬ 
tial when she was chiefly a food producer, 
taking food from the land and the sea. I 
cannot, help thinking that this northeast¬ 
ern corner of the country is richer in 
money and poorer in men since she became 
less and less a food producer and more and 
more a manufacturing parasite, drawing 
food at heavy expense from the rest of the 
country. Now, “Bradford’s History” tells 
of a time when New' England was self- 
supporting—producing all the bread and 
meat and fish and fruit. What a life 
these pioneers led. In 1622 on “the day 
called Christmas” the Governor called all 
hands out to work. Some of the new¬ 
comers “excused themselves.” saying that 
work on Christmas was against their con¬ 
science. So the Governor and his work¬ 
ers marched off to the woods with their 
: J«U. .'U), 1 
Vht RURAL N 
axes. When they came home for dinner 
they found those conscience-stricken mem¬ 
bers playing ball in the street! The Gov¬ 
ernor and his workers “took away their 
implements” and told them they might 
either work or spend the day “at their 
devotions.” They worked. Perhaps you 
may call that an application of the “blue 
law’s.” I w'ould like to see the same thing 
enforced on a few lazy people I know, 
whose only “devotion” seems to be play. 
. . . In 1623 a colony at some distance 
from Plymouth, through shiftless habits, 
ran out of food and became so reduced 
that some of them actually “became ser¬ 
vants to the Indians” and “would cut 
their wood and carry them water for a 
cap full of corn !” In fact, the Indians 
lorded it over these hungry white men—a 
momentary triumph of paganism over civ¬ 
ilization. It was a case where the white 
man’s burden became too heavy. Here I 
laid aside my book once more to think 
this out. Were not these human scrubs? 
Would a really purebred white man, with 
the traditions of command in his blood, 
ever become the slave of an inferior race? 
Is it true that an empty stomach drains 
the will and courage out of the heart and 
soul? Here again it seemed to me that 
Bruce would like to tell me what he 
knows about that! And then in 1628 it 
w r as necessary for Captain Myles Stand- 
ish and his men to go and arrest one Mor¬ 
ton lest he arouse the Indians against 
them. They found this Morton holding 
the fort “with dishes of powder and shot 
on the table.” Finally Morton came out 
to fight, “but they were so steeled with 
drinke” that they could not hold their 
guns. Morton’s gun was “half filled with 
powder and shote,” but he was too drunk 
to use it, so Captain Standish w’alked up 
and captured both gun and man. It was 
a bloodless victory, “save that one was so 
drunke that he rane his own nose upon ye 
point of a sword—but he lost but little of 
his hott blood.” I imagine from this ac¬ 
count that if prohibition had been en¬ 
forced in those days there might have 
been a different outcome of New England 
history. 
EW-YORKER 
And so the quaint old history goes on. 
I have read enough of it for tonight. Let 
me brighten up the fire and think it over 
a bit. The cat has fallen asleep, but 
Bruce has aroused. lie sits at the other 
side of the fire, with his head at one side, 
regarding me with curious eyes. You 
may not believe me, but it seems as if he 
is talking, and I will try to take down 
the substance of what he says: 
“You humans are curious things. Your 
memory is so short and uncertain that 
you are obliged to print books in order 
to keep the traditions of your race from 
dying out. Then when you refresh your 
memory, as you have just been doing, you 
have to stop and think out the applica¬ 
tion. We dogs have no books. We do 
not need any. We have instinct and 
memory, which for our purpose are su¬ 
perior to your education. Your education 
must change with each generation. Our 
instinct never changes—only adapts itself 
to new conditions. Your teachers keep on 
experimenting with new methods; my 
mother taught me in the same ways dogs 
were taught thousands of years ago. 
“Far back in those dim times your an¬ 
cestors and mine did not meet as we do 
today. Man had just discovered uses for 
fire—how to start it and how to keep it 
going. When night came it was his pro¬ 
tection, for my ancestors, not understand¬ 
ing or using it, were afraid. Here we sit, 
you and I, before this fire, with mutual 
confidence—one would defend the other 
to the death. In those far off years it was 
different. You sat beside your fire, trem¬ 
bling in fear lest your short supply of 
wood might give out before the sun rose. 
Out in the darkness my ancestors prowled 
softly about, with watchful eye on you. 
They did not dare come close while your 
fire burned, but should it die down they 
would be upon you. My ancestors and 
yours were sworn enemies. You were 
master by day. but we would have mas¬ 
tered by night but for fire. Now here we 
are friends, both making use of this fire 
which formerly held us apart. 
***** 
“You read in your book of what hap- 
January 22, 1921 
pened 300 years ago, and wonder at it. 
My mind goes back thousands of years to 
a greater wonder. How did it happen 
that your ancestors obtained control 
over mine? We had you once under 
partial subjection. You were afraid of 
us, but in some way you were able to 
conquer our will. You did not change 
your living and enter our wild life; we 
entered yours, and have become subject to 
you. Should you die or drive me away 
it is doubtful if I could live in freedom 
with the old wild life. I should probably 
seek some new master. With that cat it 
is different. lie is of a different race. He 
has not been so long in servitude, and 
his habits are not so firmly fixed. Turn 
him out and he would not seek a new 
master unless he is a degenerate, but he 
would live as a wild animal. Now, how 
did it all happen? How did I drop my 
hatred for man and become his willing 
slave, as a I confess I am? I see plenty 
of chances where I might take advan¬ 
tage of your confidence, spring upon you 
unawares and kill you—yet I cannot do 
it. What restrains me? Tell me, you 
man, why, starting on about even terms 
of living, you and your kind have gained 
the mastery over us. I know, but it is 
the best part of that education of yours 
to force you to think and reason it out— 
for only along the discipline of that 
thought can your race keep up the strug¬ 
gle. My folks have never been able to 
get away from nature and her natural 
laws. Therefore we have only instinct 
to guide us. Man has made his progress 
by getting away from nature or making 
her forces serve him by multiplying their 
power. Your ancestors made the ox, the 
horse and the machine work for them. 
You are a tool-using animal, while we 
have never been able to utilize the work 
of other animals or of tools. I must de¬ 
pend upon you to keep that fire going. We 
would have pulled down an ox and gorged 
on him for one or two meals. You put 
him at work to product 100 meals. It is 
not so much that your brain is superior 
to mine, but because the four fingers and 
the thumb on your hand are superior to 
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