r YYVTTT Published Weekly by The Rural Publishing Co., 
\ v/ii. liAAAlu. 333 w 30th St New Tork Pric9 Qne DoIlar a Year 
NEW YORK, MAY 31, 1924 
Thirteen Years on th 
Entered as Second-ClasOy.'Ver, Juno 26, 1876. at the Post 
Office at New York. N. * O p '*'« Act of March 3, 1879. 
NO. 4797 
arm 
TRUE STORY.—Now right at the 
start, if you are looking for a hard luck, 
pity-the-poor-farmer story, you would 
better quit before you waste any time 
on this one. If you yearn for infor¬ 
mation about acquiring untold wealth 
by a bold, back-to-the-land move, go talk to any good, 
live-wire real estate man; or at least introduce 
yourself and then listen carefully to what he can 
(and will) tell you. It will beat any of the things 
I can tell, for he has a wider field from which to 
Part I 
these few years, seeing the mistakes, the good and 
the bad, it makes us realize more than ever how 
slowly we have learned even the lessons in our “be¬ 
ginners’ class.” 
LACK OF EXPERIENCE.—My husband was 26 
that year, I was 23 and the baby girl was only a 
few months old. Her arrival had reminded us that 
our irresponsible days were over, and that it was 
now “up to us” to settle down and be parents. We 
were rather inexperienced, but very sure we could 
learn. Bill (I will call him that) had worked for 
dren. They had learned, from stern necessity, just 
how much money was required to keep three meals 
coming their way each day. I was still ignorant on 
that subject altogether. In fact there were several 
subjects of which 1 possessed an almost unbelievable 
lack of knowledge; and still, if I ever attain as com¬ 
plete an education as I thought I had at that time— 
oh, well! I think it was Josh Billings who ex¬ 
pressed it better than I can, “I’d ruther not know mi 
much than t’know so much that aint so.” 
MAKING A START.—It was a beautiful October 
The Memorial Day Address in a Country Cemetery. It is in These Retired Places That the True Spirit of the Day is Maintained 
choose. The actual experience we have had is not 
very thrilling or unusual, but it is true. Whether 
it would influence another to try farming or warn 
him against such an undertaking, I do not pretend 
to know. Looking back at these 13 years I realize 
that the same struggles, the hopes, fears, disappoint¬ 
ments, heartaches, triumphs, and joys, would have 
no doubt been much the same if we had been any¬ 
where else. That is life! Youth must have these 
experiences to grow. The real important part of it 
is that every obstacle overcome, every sacrifice made 
unselfishly, builds character and strength for the 
next upward step. And when recalling to mind 
farmers at different times during the busy months 
of the year, at planting and cultivating, haying and 
harvesting; and he could milk fairly well and knew, 
in a general way, how to feed and care for farm 
animals. I had always lived on a farm, but had 
very little knowledge of farming, having been taught 
that my important work was in the schoolroom. I 
had “gone through” high school and taught a rural 
school for three years before I decided to try that 
“better or worse” proposition. Bill was much better 
trained for the problems of making a living than 
was his partner. His father had died when he was 
only 16 and Bill was next to the oldest of five chil- 
day when we moved in and started our venture in 
farming. The farm is off the main-traveled road a 
little less than half a mile, and is a hill farm. There 
are four mighty maples in the front yard, beautiful 
reminders of a day when our place was “all forest.” 
I remember that first day when we were looking in 
all directions, Bill said. “No matter which way we 
look, the view is wonderful.” An unimportant item? 
Oh no! Many times since, when tired and dis¬ 
heartened from a day which had gone all wrong we 
have just looked about us, and many times we haw 
gained peace, understanding and new courage from 
the calm beauty of the hills, the trees and the sky. 
