1380 
Jht RURAL NEW-YORKER 
Boys and Girls 
By Edward M. Tuttle 
This is Our Page, 
the better we like 
The more we read it 
it, for the best it is. 
November’s Come 
Hey, you swelled-up turkey feller! 
Struttin’ ’round so big and proud, 
Pretty quick I guess your boiler 
Won’t be goin’ quite so loud. 
»Say, I’d run and hide, I bet you 
And I’d leave off eatin’ some, 
Else the choppin’-block’ll get you— 
Don’t you know November’s come. 
Don’t you know that Grandma’s makin’ 
Loads of mince and pun’kin pies? 
Don’t you smell those goodies cookin’? 
Can't you see ’em? Where’s your eyes? 
Tell that rooster there that’s erowin’ 
Cute folks now are keepin’ mum ; 
They don’t show how fat they’re growin’ 
When they know November’s come. 
’Member when you tried to lick me? 
Yes, you did, and hurt me, too! 
Thought ’( was big (o chase and pick me— 
Well, I’ll soon be pickin’ you. 
Oh, I know you’re big and hearty, 
So you needn’t strut and drum— 
Better make your will out, smarty, 
’Cause, you know, November’s come. 
cheerfully they aren’t half as bad as 
(hough we worry and fret and complain. 
Try it and prove it for yourselves. I did 
not receive any “thankful letters” after 
all in time to print them, but I believe, 
just the same, that you boys and girls do 
think of your blessings and are grateful 
for them. Am I right? 
Sylvia Randall, one of cur Long Island 
readers, sent in the turkey drawing, say¬ 
ing that she knew it was not very good, 
but that it might cd&ie in handy. I think 
it is very good for an 11-year-old girl, 
and it certainly fits in finely this month. 
The thing that counts most is Sylvia’s 
effort to make the drawing and send it to 
Our Page. I hope more of you will fol¬ 
low her lead. 
cate and frail papa didn’t have me do 
much work for the first half year, as we 
had three hired men. But the time came 
when they left, and as I said before, papa 
and I had to do the work alone. We got 
up at half-past three in the morning. 
Having 40 milking cows made this early 
hour necessary ; also the milk had to be 
ready by seven o’clock for the milkman. 
I milked 15 cows, and that many for a 
beginner is no joke. Better times came, 
for by the next Spring we had 24 milking 
cows and 32 calves. The following Sum¬ 
mer we had to do the haying alone. I 
think that this is enough of my unenjoy- 
able work, as Mary would say, but I 
thought it fun, even if I did get tired. 
Is it not fun when what you are working 
for are pets? That is what we made our 
stock, and everybody can if they try. 
Aside from my pets, consisting of cows, 
calves, horses, colts, rabbits and chickens, 
we have a very mischievous puppy named 
“Bubbles” and eight cats. I think if 
Mary would try to find fun on the farm 
she would not think it a disagreeable 
place, to live. The trouble with her is 
she isn’t trying to find it. There is 
always a little spare time on the farm, if 
only an hour. In Winter, when a per¬ 
son would think it was the dullest, I have 
a lot of fun. I hitch “Tush” to my sled 
and make her pull me. We do make a 
good path and have great fun doing it. 
November 26, 1921 
ties very often here in our neighborhood, 
and I can’t imagine anything any more 
enjoyable than some of them I have been 
to. There is a great deal of fun and ex¬ 
ercise in taking a hike through the woods 
and fields, especially if you are fortunate 
enough to own a camera. We live near 
a lake, and we have jolly times on the 
water in the Summer, and skating in the 
Winter. 
The line “October’s bright blue weather” 
is m a poem of that title, written by' 
Helen Hunt Jackson. I am very fond 
of poetry and verse. I think this letter 
js long enough for a beginner, so I will 
stop writing now, but I will be anxious 
to read the letters in Our Page again 
next month. alice x. j. 
Connecticut. 
I am rather late in answering Our 
I age, but I did not see Tiie R. N.-Y. 
till tonight. The main discussion this 
month seems to be about the farm. Hav¬ 
ing lived in the country all my life, save 
about a year, I know how it is in both 
city and country. I think this question 
is- a very hard one to decide. There are, 
of course., two sides, and both sides are 
equally right. A farm contains so many 
of the things that one cannot get in the 
city. Some of these are swimming, row- 
in#. coasting, tobogganing, skating and 
tune: 
“Gobble ! gobble !” oh, no matter ! 
Pretty quick you’ll change your 
You’ll be dead and in a platter, 
And I'll gobble pretty soon. 
’F I was you I’d stop ray puffin’, 
And I’d look most awful glum— 
Hope they give you lots of stuffin’! 
Ain’t you glad November’s come? 
—By JOE LINCOLN. 
You will all enjoy this poem by Joe 
Lincoln, the poet and writer who has 
done so much to keep alive the spirit of 
the New England seacoast folk. Novem¬ 
ber's Come is in a collection of poems 
known as Cape Cod Ballads, and: one of 
these days some of you will want to have 
(his book in your own libraries. Now you 
can just imagine that you are the boy or 
girl taking to the turkey, and I hope 
that you have him “in a platter” on 
Thanksgiving day, though perhaps your 
“turkey” is a fine fat fowl or duck or 
goose. 
See! the deep snoio must be shoveled 
From around the feeding station, 
So the little birds can come there, 
Find the food and keep from starving , 
Find the food and tell how grateful, 
(living little chirps of gladness 
That delight the one who watches, 
One who loves and works and cares 
All her feathered friends in Winter. 
for 
Anyway, let’s be thankful for homes and 
food and clothes and health and parents 
and friends and the many good things that 
we all have, and let’s not think too much 
about the hard and unpleasant things 
which we all have, too, more or less. If 
we meet the hard things bravely and 
A Big Question 
Nearly all of the letters that have come 
to me since Our Page was published last 
month have had something to say about 
living on the farm. Some are in favor; 
others are against. I am glad that you 
feel free to write frankly, and I want 
the discussion to go on. This is one of 
the biggest things we have talked about 
on Our Page since it began. I hope that 
before we get through we shall all see more 
clearly, and perhaps some of you will be 
helped with your own problems. 
It has been a surprise and pleasure to 
your editor to see how well some of you 
can put your thoughts on paper. Each 
one of the letters that are printed below 
gives something to think about. Read 
them carefully and then sit down and 
write me your own feeling on the matter. 
Be careful to be very fair and truthful 
about every point. Here are the letters: 
I have long been a reader of the Boys’ 
and Girls’ Page, but I am sorry to say 
I never before wrote to help in any way. 
I am now 15 years old, and I quit school 
this Fall. I would have been in first 
year high had I gone. I have been on 
the farm five years, and the other years 
I spent in quite a large city. As I have 
lived in both city and country, I try to 
make others feel the way I do, and that 
is to stick to the farm. 
I do not agree with Mary Heller or 
Charrollet G. in the least. I think that 
when they came to the farm they thought 
everything would be sunshine and fun, 
and not some shadow and work. But in 
place of that they found it a little of 
both, and now dislike the farm. Mary 
does not look for a good time in the right 
place. In fact, neither d'oes Charrollet 
They look only at the dull and rough 
side of farm life. What could be more 
enjoyable than gathering wild flowers, 
going nutting, walking through the sweet- 
scented woods or out in the open, with 
plenty of fresh air! As for me. I find 
nothing to compare with a long horse¬ 
back ride on my favorite horse “Tush.” 
I believe I could live and die in the sad¬ 
dle, I have grown so fond of it. Great 
fun and frolic can be found in caring for 
the farm animals and pets if you only 
want to find if. My heart went out to 
some tame rabbits when I first saw them 
at a neighbor’s farm. I asked my father 
if I could get some. He said I would 
grow tired of them soon after I got them, 
and then leave them for him to take care 
of. He didn’t say I couldn’t have them, 
and as a result I soon bought a pair with 
some money T had saved, and they were 
happily installed in a coop I made for 
them. I have now had them three years, 
or rather two and a half. The only time 
papa took care of them was when I went 
to the city for three days. We have had 
many dinners of rabbits—60 or more— 
and now he would miss them if I stopped 
raising them. 
Don’t think I never saw 
side of farm life. For about 
papa and I had to take care 
of stock—cows and horses. 
How Do You Do? 
( harrollet G. said the country girls are 
unsociable and unwilling to make friends 
with her. I think that if she would make 
friends with the farm animals she 
wouldn’t need to search farther for any 
more enjoyable or faithful friends. I 
have a pet cow named “Grasshopper” 
which I wouldn’t part with for anything. 
It is true Charrollet might like a girl 
friend, and if she would try to find out 
their ways and what sports they like, 
then try to like the same, I don’t think 
she would find it hard to have friends. 
Try to be agreeable. 
We have in our community a club 
which everyone in this district belongs 
to, and once a month they all meet at 
the home of one of them, and everybody 
tries to see how much fun can be had. 
That is, the young folks do, and (lie older 
ones talk on different things. I also 
started a club for the girls and boys of 
my age. We all get together and play 
games. In Winter sleighrides are en¬ 
joyed by all. One thing is: Don’t be 
bashful, but don’t be bold; try to make a 
good time and you will have one your¬ 
self. I wish I knew these two girls I 
would like to he their friend. I hope I 
am. A faithful reader, 
New York. MYRTLE J. BAEHRE. 
This is the first time that I am really 
writing to you, although I have often 
wanted to. We did not receive our IL 
N.-Y. last month, and so I did not read 
Mary Heller’s letter, but I am very much 
interested in the argument. 
All g'rls are different, and if Mary was 
not meant for a country girl she lias rea¬ 
son for not liking it. I was born in a 
city and liked it very much. For 12 
years I lived there, and then we moved 
to tin 1 country. It is five miles to the 
nearest village. 
I find the country lovely, and would 
never go back to the city if I had my 
own way. We have lived here two years. 
I have many friends, although the nearest 
one is three miles from me. But I see 
them every day in high school, to which 
I ride on my bicycle. 
I hope that Mary Ileller will learn to 
enjoy the country as I do and be happy 
being able to go to (he woods at anv 
time. If a boy or girl is able to do some 
of these sports he or she can hardly be 
lonely. Then there is the care of some 
favorite pet, or a garden that we can 
easily keep, and the thought of being 
able to help others in so many ways that 
a city child has no way of learning. There 
is the good health that generally follows 
outdoor work or play, and having this 
we can study so much harder in school, 
as well as so much easier. This is one 
side. 
There is. of course, the nasty side as 
well. A child who has to get up in the 
early morning and milk the cows, clean 
the stables, feed the chickens and do a 
lot of chores before going to school, does 
not have the energy or enthusiasm to 
carry on. The same chores have to be 
done at night after school; then to bed. 
This same thing is carried on day after 
day, with no chance to enjoy the attrac¬ 
tions of the farm. But on the whole 
there are more children who enjoy the 
pleasant side. In the city a child has 
nothing but the bare pavements to play 
on. and the everlasting sound of the 
trains and cars in his ears. So I think 
that the farm is the best place if we 
have some chance to choose our duties. I 
am not going to say any more this time, 
but I promise I will write soon and tell 
more. 
Wishing Our Page the best of luck. 
New York. Madeleine Mackenzie. 
I am a Western girl from Wisconsin. 
I am 14 years of age, and this is the 
third year I have been living in New 
York. I do not like it a bit out East. I 
that she is not in the 
verv interested friend. 
New York. 
crowded city. 
EMMA KEIDEL. 
A 
I 
Our 
have been 
Page and 
the rough 
six months 
of 00 head 
That was 
when I was 11, and as I was very deli¬ 
very much interested in 
also in this question of 
liking the farm. I have always lived on 
a farm, and I enjoy it very much. I do 
not have to go out in the fields to work 
alone, and I have an idea that that is 
one reason why some girls and boys do 
not like farm work, and if that is the 
case. well, then, I don’t blame them. 
Work is much easier and pleasanter when 
one has a companion. We all know that. 
As for having good times in the coun¬ 
try, I will say that I have never had as 
much real sport when I have been visit¬ 
ing in the city as I have had up on the 
mountain where I live. We have par- 
11 hat a handsome little pony! \ 
Clean of limb and strong of body; 
Besting nose against the shoulder 
Of its master, telling secrets, 
Telling of their rides together, 
On the roads and through the meadows, 
Flying like the winds of A utumn, 
