1332 
HOPE FARM NOTES 
□ 
RURAL NEW-YORKER 
There is a hollow log on the fire. It is 
standing up right in front and a sheet of 
flame pours out at the top. It is a large 
limb from one of our old sweet apple 
trees. Very likely some years ago a care- ,, , -r, - TJ _ . - - ------ - 
less worker cut off this limb at a wrong J time for bath and 
slant. Instead of draining away, the wa- 1 K>< • 1 he little red ribbon has fallen 
ter was held at the stub and decay start- trom her hair, but she picks. it up and 
malignant character, with wolf teeth and 
mean, narrow eyes. The other shows a 
happy, jovial, hopeful face, with big eyes, 
well apart, a nose well fitted to supply 
oxygen without becoming a mouth breath¬ 
er, and a wide, grinning mouth. It may 
be only a fancy of mine, but it seems as 
if the children have given expression to 
all these_qualities. But here comes a 
November 12, 1921 
ed. A woodpecker or a squirrel saw in 
this a fine site for a home. Through the 
years decay crept further and further into 
the wood, until the limb became a mere 
shell. We cut it off and here it is ending 
its life in a blaze of good cheer. As I sit 
here with little Rose I think of the ser¬ 
mon one could preach from the life of that 
old limb. But who cares for sermons in 
these days? Surely not the little morsel 
of humanity who curls up in my lap. A 
story about the animal that lived in that 
cavity would suit her—but as for ser¬ 
mons—well, she is like the majority of 
grown-up people I know. Rose and I 
enjoy these brief moments in front of the 
fire, before the lights are turned on. We 
do not talk much—the fire talks to us. I 
goes dancing away. That hollow log has 
fallen to ashes. I will use a solid chunk 
in its place. The children have finished 
their music. Now they hurry away to 
make fudge and I am left alone. 
* * * ^ * 
I sat studying those four flaming faces 
on the mantel. You may believe me or 
not, as you please, but I will testify that 
the melancholy face on that long pumpkin 
seemed to grow more dismal, and out of 
that mournful mouth proceeded a tale of 
woe : 
“Farming don’t pay, and this season 
proves it. Not one of your crops has 
given a good yield. The tomatoes barely 
paid expenses. The sweet corn was not 
much better, and look at those potatoes. 
have come to think it one of the most I’ll bet they didn’t bring the cost of for- 
*“ i:c - ““ tilizer and labor. And the apple crop! 
In early May the trees were alive with 
bloom. Then came that late frost. It 
killed two-thirds of the buds. Here you 
are handling less than half a crop. The 
price is good, but what’s the use of that 
when you have no fruit? Just when it 
looked like a small fortune for you, Jack 
Frost came and ruined it all iii a night. 
That’s always the way with farming. If 
it isn’t one thing it’s sure to be another, 
and here you sit, smiling and fooling 
ITT! r n *• K A b . I _ -t . - A- — J V 1 , 1 • 
beautiful things in life—this silent com¬ 
munication between childhood and ma¬ 
ture years. As the older children grow 
up the years seem somehow to creep in 
between and form some sort of a barrier. 
Or perhaps the years secrete some sort of 
an acid that eats away the romance and 
glory which, in the eyes of childhood, may 
surround even those of us who know, in 
our hearts, that we are of quite common 
material. It seems to be something that 
rubs the first two syllables out of “super- . _ o __ 
man” and leaves the last one so that you with those children just as though this 
can see the scars where the pruning was 
done. Elderly people know about this, 
and it is a great joy at an age when 
analysis has fully exposed the dross in 
their make-up to still retain the uncritical 
confidence of childhood. I think that will 
account for some of these beautiful part¬ 
nerships between 60 and six. 
* * * * * 
On the mantel, over the fireplace, are 
four jack-o’-lanterns. Four of the chil¬ 
dren tried their hand at carving a pump¬ 
kin. and it must be said that they have 
produced some remarkable works of art. 
I have been reading about the rude draw¬ 
ings made by man 10.000 or more years 
ago, and these hideous faces make me 
think that my children must have inher¬ 
ited something direct from the neolithic 
age. These “lanterns” were prepared for 
the Hallowe’en performance which the 
children staged in this room. The ob- 
bad been your best year. Why don’t you 
be a man and find fault? What busi¬ 
ness has your family to be happy? . How’s 
anyone going to know you had a bad year 
unless you (ell folks? And these chil¬ 
dren! You are spoiling them for any¬ 
thing useful. They ought to be working 
right now. instead of playing about. 
What will they amount to when they 
grow up?” 
* * * * * 
My mournful friend would have gone 
on indefinitely, but the candle inside him 
snuttered up and choked him off. I should 
think an honest candle would be ashamed 
of such talk. But the stupid brother of 
this long pumpkin took it up: 
“Righto! It has been the worst sea¬ 
son I ever saw. In the Spring it was so 
wet that the corn grew so fast that my 
vine never had any chance. It wasn’t fair 
to plant me in that big Long Island Beau- 
servance of these old pagan rites seems to ty corn. I had the frame to make a prize 
be a part of the inheritance of all chil- pumpkin, but when you did cut that corn 
dren. It was all a very merry time until and give me a chance it turned so dry I 
two of the big boys dressed in sheets and couldn’t grow. The ground is so hard 
ran around the house. To me they seemed * you haven’t been able to plow a furrow, 
like imitation Ku Klux. but little Rose Here it is nearly election day and not a 
screamed and ran to Mother for protec- kernel of rye in. Look at those weeds in 
tion. After the children had gone to bed 
I watched those pumpkin faces awhile, 
and then got. out my copy of Faust and 
'•oad the description of Walpurgis night. 
But I am tired tonight, for Jack and I 
the tomatoes. They are head high and 
all gone to seed. They should have been 
plowed under two months ago. That tur¬ 
nip crop is just about a failure. It has 
been the worst season I ever heard of. 
have spent quite a little time on our You have got to buy hay. What kind of 
knees. I will hasten to say that we were 
digging out. peach borers. The trees are 
low-headed and in order to do a full job 
you must get right down on the cold 
ground and stay there. I never saw a 
worse crop of borers. There are a dozen 
big ones in some of our trees, and they 
seem larger than usual at this season. 
a farmer are you, anyway? Don’t you 
know it’s a losing game? You sit here 
before this fire just.as if you didn’t have 
sense enough to know that every hand, 
and nature, too. has turned against the 
farmer. I wish we had a man on this 
farm, who would let folks know how 
black the outlook is, and make his family 
We follow the old-fashioned plan of scrap- realize the sin of laughing at such times.’ 
ing away the dirt and gum and following 
the borer down with a sharp knife and 
wire. When you do that you know he is 
dead. Why not try this new chemical 
with the terrible name? Well, it seems to 
do the work, but we know the digging 
does it. and as our peach orchard is not 
large we get down on our kne^s ond dig. 
But I will confess that I feel the effect of 
such devotion to old-time practice in my 
knees and back as the cold damp night 
closed in. We are saving our peach trees, 
but there seem to be borers in my knee 
joints. 
***** 
The children come tearing into the 
room. Cherry-top went hunting with some 
of the neighbors. They took our old 
hound dog along, but wise old Bruce de¬ 
cided to stay at home. The boy brought _ _ 
back one ’possum, and this will add to keep a breed that has respectable ances- 
his collection of furs. His ambition is to tors? And those Reds of yours T They 
get enough of fine furs to make a splen- are coming home from the egg-laying con- 
did set for Mother and her daughter, test next week at the very tail end of the 
These young folks cannot see the pictures procession. That’s what you get by send- 
which the fire shows me. They want ing pullets or children to college You 
***** 
I must agree that this pumpkin told 
the truth about the weather and the work. 
I cannot deny it—that malignant fellow 
at the right never gave me a chance. 
Those wolf teeth seemed to grow sharper 
as he hissed out: 
“And what an outfit of live stock you 
have on this farm. As I lay in that pile 
in the orchard I have been listening to 
them. Take that big black sow. She 
claims to be purebred. I’ll bet if the 
truth were known her papers wouldn’t 
fit her by a mile. I’ll bet, too, she won’t 
have over three pigs at a litter. And 
those Jersey Ciants of yours! They are 
big enough—look at the way they eat—■ 
but I’ll guarantee half of them will show 
white or gray feathers where the sins of 
their fathers show up. Why don’t you 
more light, but we compromise by lighting 
the candles in these jack-o’-lanterus. 
That gives light enough for the music. 
The two girls play a duet on the piano 
haven’t produced a single world beater in 
feathers, hide or clothes. Take that pert 
young Jersey of yours—I’d like to attend 
to her case. And those lazy geese. I 
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while Cherry-top scrapes tlie melody out wish you could hear what they say about 
of the strings of his violin. The Japanese you. You’ve surrounded yourself'with a 
lot of lazy drones, and yet you sit here 
by this fire and fool yourself into tlie be¬ 
lief that your family really amounts to 
something. Bah ! I’m weary !” The b*g 
mouth on this fellow had fed the air rap¬ 
idly to the candle, and it was now down 
to a little sputter of the wick. 
boy is not much of a musician, but. he 
stands holding the small electric torch 
with its light on the music so that the 
players may see it readily. And Rose and 
I sit looking at those four pumpkin faces. 
They really seem to express character as 
the candle brightens up behind them. I 
presume that is true of a human face. It 
may be like a dull stone mask, dead to 
the emotions which play behind it, or a 
living thing responsive to the, spirit which 
it covers. Two of the childVen selected 
long narrow pumpkins, like a long, melan 
It would be hard for a man of the 
strongest character to stand up against 
such a continued volley of truth and near¬ 
truth. I was coming to that dangerous 
choly face. The notches they have cut condition in which a man begins to ques- 
show in one case a discouraged, hopeless tion the value of his assets when the last 
countenance, and in the other a stupid, pumpkin—the one with the jovial face 
ox-like visage. The other pumpkins are and wide grin, started in : 
round and fat. One face I read as a mean, (Continued on Page 1340) 
Scientific Discovery Quickly 
Ends Rats and Mice 
As a result of the successful experiments of 
the well-known bacteriologist, Dr. Earp-Thomas, 
rats and mice can now be quickly and safely 
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doors. There is nothing in this method that 
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other than rodents, which include gophers, and 
it can be tested without any financial risk what¬ 
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This will be good news to countless homes 
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overrun with these destructive, filthy, disease 
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At the State Prison Farm at Raiford, Florida, 
they were, according to Superintendent I. S. 
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(he J. Chas. McCullough Seed Co., Cincin¬ 
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au< | m jce .multiply so rapidly that it is 
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HOPE FARM Nf 
A 5,000-gallon overstock 
(gray and brown) en¬ 
ables us to sell regular 
$3.50 highest grade pure 
white lead and linseed 
oil house paint at half 
price—$1.75 per gal. As 
good as you could buy 
for twice the price. Other 
regular colors up to $2.35 
per gallon. 
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Department 822 
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osophy, humo 
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Rural 
New-York 
333 W. 30th 
NEW YORK 
