890 
‘Px RURAL. NEW-YORKER 
June 14, 1924 
Hope Farm Notes 
The stretch of land and water up 
through the Hudson and Champlain Val¬ 
leys has seemed to me about as interest¬ 
ing, historically, as any section of this 
country. For nearly two centuries it 
was considered the best farming land 
in America. That was before the great 
West was really thought of as a crop 
producing section—at least for any crops 
except Indians and buffalo. Up to the 
beginning of the nineteenth century there 
were many wise men who believed that 
Albany was destined to be the largest 
and most important city on the conti¬ 
nent. For these men believed that the 
Hudson and Mohawk Valleys were to be 
the great granaries of the world—pro¬ 
ducing wheat and corn and meat far 
in excess of the needs of this nation, and 
exporting the balance in ships which 
could easily sail up the river and take 
on cargoes at Albany—bringing back 
goods to be distributed through the in¬ 
terior. This dream was based on the 
theory that America was ever to remain 
a great agricultural nation, feeding the 
world, carrying the tune while manufac¬ 
turing played a second fiddle. Had there 
been telephones and radio outfits in those 
days there never would have been such 
dreams. It is not likely that the Pil¬ 
grims or the Dutch or the French would 
have remained on poor land near the 
coast, but we of the present age must 
take the facts of history as they are 
handed down to us. Manufacturing is 
beating agriculture all along the Atlantic 
Coast, but all these great changes cannot 
take away from those of us who live in 
the Hudson Valley the great legacy of 
shining history which has come down to 
us out of the years. If you ask me what 
history has got to do with the hard job 
of making a living on a farm in New 
York or New Jersey I shall have to ans¬ 
wer that on an Eastern farm today pa¬ 
tience and philosophy are even more nec¬ 
essary than muscle and physical power 
and I do not know of any surer source 
of the former than clear thinking of his¬ 
tory. Yes, we have come to a time in 
Eastern farming when we must go 
through a period of readjustment during 
which philosophy is of more importance 
than physics. 
* * He :Je ele 
I have read everything 1 could find on 
the history of the Hudson Valley and the 
upper lakes, and last week I had a 
chance to sail the entire length of Lake 
Ceorge from old Fort William Henry to 
Ticonderoga on Lake Champlain. The 
lake and the great hills surrounding _it 
are just about as they were when in 1757 
Montcalm and his army floated up the 
lake to destroy the fort. Then in 1758 
the English army under Abereromby 
sailed back down the lake to attack the 
French at Ticonderoga. Parkman says 
that Abereromby had 15,000 troops, and 
they embarked in 900 bateaux, 135 whale 
boats and many rafts or flat boats car¬ 
rying the artillery. All these scows and 
rafts and boats must have been built on 
the shore of the lake with the rather 
crude tools of that period. Lake George 
is about 30 miles long, and in some places 
less than a mile wide. It is really a 
deep, narrow basin or valley between 
two ranges of high hills into which the 
water has run until a big ditch or pond 
has been formed. It must have been an 
imposing sight as this long procession of 
boats floated down the lake, while the 
rangers and Indians made their way 
through the woods on the shores. It was 
necessary to stop and build this im¬ 
mense fleet of boats in order to transport 
the army 30 miles. As one passes down 
the lake today under the shadow of these 
great hills he can but wonder what there 
was here worth fighting for. These rough 
hills are very beautiful on a sunny day 
in May. The light green of the birches 
and the darker color of the pines present 
a wonderful color combination, and there 
is a massive majesty and peace about 
these great, rocky mounds that makes 
one wonder what there is behind them. 
What are they guarding as they stand in 
power beside this shining lake? If we 
could climb to the top (should we find a 
level valley in which there are farms and 
homes and rest—or is there just another 
hill for the weary human to trail over as 
he must in the struggle for life? 
ijc jJc :Je v *!» 
These thoughts are sure to pass 
through the mind as one sails down this 
beautiful sheet of water to where the 
rapids carry on to Lake Champlain. 
What was all this fighting about? These 
rough hills were not worth fighting for as 
judged by what we now know of Ameri¬ 
ca. Should there be another war for the 
possession of this country who can con¬ 
ceive of any possible benefit of wasting 
money and men in such a foolish effort 
as building more than 1,200 boats to 
transport a few thousands of men 30 
miles? There is probably no young man 
of 30 today who is capable of fully rea¬ 
lizing just what the world meant to hu¬ 
man beings when there were no automo¬ 
biles or telephones. That will be evi¬ 
dent to any of us, and how much truer 
it is that none of us in this generation 
can imagine what life in America in the 
year 1758 meant. Yes, and 50 or 100 
years from now those who follow us will 
wonder, as we do now, why those old 
ancestors wasted so much time and en¬ 
ergy on things which time has thrown 
into the discard. We cannot well under¬ 
stand in this day what the famous strug¬ 
gle for the possession of America be¬ 
tween the French and the English meant 
to the farmers of that day. The French 
were earliest In the field and they worked 
out a plan of conquest—which was prob¬ 
ably the most splendid and far-reaching 
in its possible results of any the world 
has ever known. They proposed to con¬ 
trol the St. Lawrence River, the great 
chain of lakes from Niagara to what is 
now Chicago, and even at that time had 
dreams of connecting Lake Michigan 
with the Mississippi River, so that boats 
could sail from Quebec to New Orleans, 
except for the portage around Niagara. 
It was a marvelous scheme, making a 
pathway of water right through the heart 
of the continent. It failed because the 
French statesmen in the home land could 
not realize what possibilities it held in 
the future. Thus France exhausted her¬ 
self in personal and foolish wars in 
Europe, and permitted the English and 
the English settlers to drive the French 
out. And as a curious freak of history 
the final capture of Canada precipitated 
the War of the Revolution and made the 
Declaration of Independence possible. 
For in that great fleet of boats which 
floated down Lake George on the fifth 
of July. 1758, were nearly 10.000 farmers 
from New England, New York and New 
Jersey. There they learned the art of 
war. and also the possibilities of inde¬ 
pendence. Seventeen years later hundreds 
of these same men appeared at Lexington 
and Bunker Hill with the very guns they 
carried that July day on Lake George. 
So one may see how this lonely lake has 
contributed to American history. Today 
as the twilight drops suddenly down be¬ 
tween these high hills, one with an 
imaginative mind may people this wilder¬ 
ness with a motley crowd of old-time 
fighters. Red-coated British soldiers sit 
beside ghostly fires. Highlanders with 
their plaids and kilts stand on guard, 
half-naked Indians glide in and out of the 
shadows, scouts and rangers rest in the 
woods. As night comes on one brings to 
mind that scene from “The Last of the 
Mohicans.” The four men are resting 
by their lonely fire beside the ruins of 
Fort William Henry. Suddenly there 
is a rifle shot. The bullet misses its 
human mark, but scatters the embers of 
the fire. One of the Indians glides si¬ 
lently out into the darkenss. A little 
later he glides back to his place—saying 
nothing, but pointing to a fresh scalp at 
his belt. 
* * $ :3e * 
It was savage, hideous warfare, as 
befitted the place and time. You and I 
in this year 1924 would hardly consider 
these rough hills worth fighting for un¬ 
less we knew they were full of gold. They 
will be worth silver at' least some time 
when the value of this section as a Sum¬ 
mer resort is fully realized. And there 
are some good farming opportunities on 
the valley lands, with a good Summer 
market. But people of this generation 
cannot conceive of the value this country 
held for the French and English. The 
French firmly believed that the great city 
of the world, with all the surroundings 
which go with such a city, would be 
built near Lake Champlain. They 
thought the center of population would 
be located there, with egress for shipping 
both north and south. France, in con¬ 
trol of that, would control the world. 
They fought for that belief, and they 
fought hard. The English colonists out¬ 
numbered them six or 10 to one, but the 
French had the advantage of military 
and church discipline, and they fought 
their enemies off for years. Lake Cham¬ 
plain and the Hudson Valley at that day 
led into the heart of America. That is 
why so much of the fighting was cen¬ 
tered around these lakes. In the Revo¬ 
lution the English came down the same 
route of lake and river, so as to split 
New England away from the rest of the 
nation.. Their plan broke down at Sara¬ 
toga, but this section then led into the 
vitals of the nation. An army strikes for 
the enemy’s vitals. Lee at Gettysburg 
was on hie way to destroy the anthracite 
coal mines in Eastern Pennsylvania. Had 
he reached them he would have crippled 
the industrial power of the North. One 
thinks of all these things as he sails 
down Lake George in these peaceful mod¬ 
ern days. It is not possible to float 
through the rapids to Lake Champlain. 
We landed about where Abercromby’s 
army did, and walked a mile to town. 
Here it was that the advance guard was 
lost in the woods. The French were also 
lost. There was a fight, and Lord Howe, 
the brains of the army, was killed. Be¬ 
yond the town on a bluff overlooking the 
water we came upon old Fort Ticonder¬ 
oga. After all these years there is only 
one sentinel left on guard at the outer 
gate—a big German police dog! He 
growled and barked at us, but he was 
safely tied to a chain, and we passed in. 
It seems like a strange whirl of fate that 
in front of these ruins where years ago 
English and French struggled for control 
the only guard should now be a German 
dog! In their early days the French 
were often in trouble. Parkman says it 
is reported that at one time the fortress 
at Quebec was garrisoned by two old wo¬ 
men and sentinelled by two hens! Well, 
it is said that geese once saved Rome, 
and when I was a boy there was a story 
of a hen that did effective sentinel work. 
She was a Light Brahma. In those days 
a Light Brahma was the model incubator. 
She would lay perhaps 20 eggs and then 
sit and it was the kind of sitting that 
knows no standing. That hen would 
squat on three doorknobs and a stone, 
and stay there for weeks. One year she 
stole her nest in a little box in the wood¬ 
shed, close by the back door, and noth¬ 
ing could defeat her purpose. One day 
the old farmer sold a cow and was 
obliged to keep the money over night. A 
thief came to rob the old man. He knew 
the premises well, and decided to enter 
the back door. So he gently broke a pane 
of glass in the window and cautiously 
put in his hand to push back the bolt. 
Without knowing it he put his hand right 
into old Brahma’s nest. She drew off 
and struck him a blow with her sharp 
beak that drew blood on his hand. He 
thought it was a man with a knife and 
withdrew his hand and ran for life. 
Next day his hand began to swell. It 
turned black and blue and puffed up to 
twice its size. Then he became fright¬ 
ened, went to a doctor and confessed the 
whole intent! They cured his infected 
hand, but to the day of his death he 
thought it was some divine punishment 
for his sins. In truth old Brahma had 
probably been eating some infected meat 
—like a dead rat. She did not use any 
napkin and no doubt there were bacteria 
on her bill. When she pecked that 
hand she infected it. That is my version 
of the story, though it would not be so 
effective in frightening thieves away from 
their trade. I was careful not to let 
that watch dog at Ticonderoga infect 
me. Who knows? He may be a direct 
descendant of the little dog that saved 
Montreal by tracking the Indians. We 
drove on and soon came to the battle¬ 
line where 164 years ago the French 
held off the English. But more about 
that next week ! H. w. c. 
My Experience As a Rural Teacher 
We have read some very interesting ar¬ 
ticles on the rural school. Perhaps some 
of you would be interested in my experi¬ 
ence. During the four years that I have 
taught not one day has it been “drudg¬ 
ery” for me to teach. I have never been 
late to my school. I calculate to be there 
not later than 8 :30 in Summer and 8 :15 
in Winter. My first school was about 
three miles from home, over a very poor 
country road. I drove my own horse to 
and from school, except during the Win¬ 
ter. Whenever the roads were impass¬ 
able I boarded near the school. I some¬ 
times went when the mail man did not. 
The first term I taught 10 children. 
Three were beginners. Two of them were 
five years old and the other one six. The 
first year they did both first and second 
grade work. This is their fourth year, 
and they are in fifth grade. In the same 
school were two German children, ages 
nine and seven, who could not even speak 
English. They did not know what it 
meant to stand, sit, come or go. I had 
studied Gernfan in high school, but could 
not speak it well. How we understood 
each other I do not know, but it was sur¬ 
prising to see the results. Of course they 
had to start in the first grade. At the 
close of the year they had finished four 
reading books. The boy had learned his 
multiplication tables while in Germany 
and could do second grade work. The girl 
could add, but could not carry. She had 
had a very little subtraction. The sec¬ 
ond year in January I gave the boy our 
regular sixth grade examinations. He 
passed above 90 per cent in his arithmetic 
and all of the other subjects above 75 
per cent. The girl completed her fourth 
grade work the same year. Had they 
been in a city or village school they could 
not have covered the work. My own sis¬ 
ter observed the case of an Italian girl, 
age 15, who attended a village school, but 
was kept in the second grade because the 
teacher did not have the time to give her 
special help. The teacher herself said it 
was not the fault of the child, but with 
33 others in the same grade she could not 
give her extra work. 
The city schools claim that they are 
more thorough than the rural schools. I 
do not think so. A boy in the fourth 
grade left my school in December. He 
had covered all of the first half year’s 
work. When he moved to the city he 
lost two weeks of school. Of course they 
put him back in the third grade. He 
passed all their tests higher than then- 
own class, so they were forced to pro¬ 
mote him to the last half of the fourth 
grade. One of the teachers did not like 
it. She said: “The idea of putting these 
country kids up with our children.” 
The school in which I am now teaching 
I have 24 pupils registered. Three moved 
away. One of the girls, who came from the 
city, says my tests are much harder than 
in the city. She could not do the geog¬ 
raphy and arithmetic work at all. 
No one need say that the “rural schools 
are no good.” There are no doubt a few 
poor schools in the rural districts, but 
not all city schools are first-class. The 
children in the rural schools under the 
ordinary teacher are purer and more de¬ 
veloped than those who attend in the city. 
I know, because I have had five pupils 
from the city within the past year. Near¬ 
ly all of our noted men came from the 
rural districts. Give us better rural 
schools instead of trying to do away with 
them. f. f. e. 
A woman went to buy some cigars for 
her husband, who was laid up. “Do you 
want them mild or strong, madam?” 
asked the tobacconist. “Give me the 
strongest you have,” she said. “The last 
ones he had broke in his pocket.”—Bris¬ 
tol (Eng.) Evening News. 
Future Poultry Keepers and Heavy Feeders 
