1506 
The RURAL NEW-YORKER 
December 6, 1924 
Hope Farm Notes 
We are having an old-fashioned rain¬ 
storm tonight, the first for many months 
—the ending of a long drought. All 
through the Fall the dry, brilliant weath¬ 
er continued. Now and then clouds would 
form, but the winds blew them away. It 
was ideal weather for most Fall work. 
The season was late, and Nature seemed 
anxious to make up for her sulking in 
May and June. The first hard frost kept 
off until October 26. The apples devel¬ 
oped and took on color. The Baldwins 
dropped more than we like, yet probably 
00 per cent of them were salable. We 
got them all off and they are now prac¬ 
tically all sold. Experience in keeping 
apples in common farm storage has con¬ 
vinced me that it is better to sell them 
quickly, right from the orchard, when¬ 
ever a reasonable price can be obtained. 
This Fall nearly all our fruit was sold 
to the roadside stands, where in turn it 
is sold to tourists who drive by in cars. 
The development of this trade is having a 
remarkable effect upon farming and fruit 
growing in our section, and is doing more 
to change crops and farm methods than 
anything else that has happened in late 
years. Scientific education and legisla¬ 
tion have their place in farm develop¬ 
ment, but these market changes, giving 
closer contact with buyers, have done 
more than anything else to help us. We 
have had a good.season. 
* * * * * 
This downpour of rain comes too late 
to be of best service to us. Ever since 
August the soil has been hard and dry. 
< )n our hills plowing has been impossible. 
I often wonder how the apples have been 
able to make even fair size. At one part 
of our hill the rock comes close to the 
surface, and on that spot I notice the 
apples were small but very high-colored. 
We wanted to do considerable Fall plow¬ 
ing. Our plan for handling our bill or¬ 
chards is to let the sod stand for three 
years. Then we plow in the Fall and let 
the furrows stand in the rough during the 
Winter. In the Spring this rough-plowed 
land is harrowed and seeded to oats and 
Alsike clover. The clover stands three 
years and is then plowed and the same 
plan worked out. We have 12 to 15 
acres of such clover seeding this Fall that 
is beautiful to look at. For our sour soil 
we find Alsike best of all the clovers we 
have tried. If we were to use lime freely 
1 think Sweet clover would give us a 
heavier crop, but on our steep hillsides 
the cost of liming would be very heavy. 
I do not subscribe to the theory that it is 
absolutely necessary to use great quan¬ 
tities of lime in order to keep up the soil. 
That may be true when you depend on 
Bed or Sweet clover or Alfalfa, but I do 
not find it true with Alsike or Soy beans. 
We must all think for ourselves, and not 
accept the book and bulletin as the only 
rule. I wish this rain had come earlier, 
so as to soften the ground for plowing. 
We may be able to turn over a few acres 
before Christmas. The “signs” all point 
to a hard Winter—that is, if we accept 
Nature as a sign painter. 
* * * $ * 
Well, let it come. That is about the 
way I feel tonight before my open fire, 
with the wind driving the rain against 
the windows, and howling around the 
house as if seeking for some crack or hole 
where it can work in to trouble us. This 
night carries me back 20 years or more to 
the days of our early struggles on this 
old farm. There was no telephone in 
those days. The radio existed only in 
the dreams of a few spirits who were 
really ranked as insane men. The elec¬ 
tric light had not tried to venture out of 
town. Up on the mantel over the fire 
stands the old kerosene lamp which we 
used in those days. Every drop of water 
we used in the house was pumped out of 
a well and brought in, bucket by bucket. 
Now the underground pipe brings us a 
constant supply of soft water from the 
hillside spring. No pumping needed; the 
water comes running to us on its own 
willing feet. In those days every road 
was like a river of mud through which 
old Major or Frank .would go floundering 
at a snail’s pace. Now if we need to get 
out, we can step into a closed car and go 
faster than Dexter ever trotted over a 
smooth, hard highway. I can easily re¬ 
member how 20 years ago on just such 
a night as this I stood at the window 
looking out into the dark. Far away I 
could see the dim lights in my neighbor's 
house. They seemed very remote and far 
out of reach. Tonight when I stand at 
the same window the lights are brighter, 
for the electric bulb has been substituted 
for kerosene. The electric wires, string¬ 
ing up like long fingers out of the valley, 
have brought about a sort of co-opera¬ 
tion, while the old kerosene lamp repre¬ 
sented individual effort. 
* * * # * 
I find that many of our young folks in 
these days have very little respect for the 
old-time lamp or the candle. You have to 
fill the lamp, trim the wick and keep the 
chimney clean. Then there is the work 
of striking the match to light the wick. 
On the other hand, all you have to do 
with the electric light is to snap on a 
switch and the light appears from some¬ 
where. You do not care much where it 
comes from, or how it is produced. It 
comes; the service is provided by some 
stranger. You pay for it, and that’s all 
there is to it. The lamp and the candle 
are back numbers, and in this rushing age 
numbers should all be in front. We may 
say that the lamp and the candle repre¬ 
sent part of the foundation upon which 
our modern system of living is founded. 
Most of our young folks seem to know 
little and care less about the foundations 
of society. What effect is this going to 
have upon home life and, through it, upon 
the nation? - A stormy night, such as this 
one—in the country—brings us back to 
elemental things, and we are forced to do 
a little mental analyzing to see if home 
has retained all the sweetness which the 
memory of the poet found in it. How 
many country-raised men and women in 
town tonight will sit wishing they were 
back among the lonely hills, listening to 
the rain? How many will shrug their 
shoulders and say, “Well, I’m glad I do 
not have to spend such a night in that 
lonely old house. Let’s go to the the¬ 
ater !” 
As I see it, these modern times are 
“sifting out the hearts of men,” and sep¬ 
arating the true country men or those 
who will ever live in the country from 
choice. We shall all be better off when 
the discontented people leave the farms 
and go where they think they can find 
happiness. They will never find it, and 
before long the nation will stop creating 
useless jobs for people who have neither 
the imagination nor the moral purpose 
needed to fit them for a useful life on the 
farm. 
Sjc ❖ s}: * * 
There is a harder blast than usual at 
the window, and the fire flares up. I am 
going to put on that big log. The flame 
begins to creep up through that knot-hole. 
Years ago the wind must have broken off 
a limb from the tree. As years went on 
water worked in and decay started, eat¬ 
ing its way to the center of the trunk. 
One day a squirrel came by. He had 
been driven out of the old nest, and his 
young wife wanted a home of her own. 
So they cleaned out this decayed spot and 
started housekeeping. Then, came the 
farmer, hunting for timber to split into 
fence rails. This tree gave evidence of 
sickness. Who would not feel sick with 
a hole like that reaching to its heart? 
Down came the tree, and they split, it up 
for rails. This piece should have been 
split once more, but the hired man was 
tired, and he let it go. They put it in 
as top rail of a line fence. Two neigh¬ 
bors quarreled over the line. They stood 
with this rail between them and cursed 
each other, as neighbors sometimes do. 
Then that night the daughter of one 
neighbor and the son of the other sat on 
this rail together and blessed where their 
parents had cursed. Birds stood on it 
and sang, rabbits jumped over it—oh. it 
has had a lively history. Then we came, 
with no use for line fences or neighbor¬ 
hood quarrels. Here is the old rail, giv¬ 
ing me light and heat as its parting bene¬ 
diction. It will turn to ashes, and with 
those ashes I shall grow an apple tree. 
That is the round of a useful life. But 
here is a commotion at the door, and four 
lively children rush in upon me to say 
good night—Camille and Rose and Rita 
and Gerald. The three girls climb on 
my knee and sit watching the flames 
creep up through that knot-hole into what 
was ouce the squirrel’s home. They must 
have a story. Perhaps I can find the 
ashes of some old memory which will 
make their minds grow gently, as the 
wood ashes will fertilize the tree. It is a 
wild night outside, but home seems peace¬ 
ful enough before our fire. I am think¬ 
ing of friends who sit in lonely farm¬ 
houses back among the hills with the 
storm roaring outside. I hope they have 
fires and lights and children around them 
—for what else is there in life beyond 
home and happiness? H. w. C. 
NEIGHBORS 
When Ephraim Crosby made a clearing far out on Valley 
Road and built his house, he had no neighbors. He lived 
an independent life, producing on the farm practically all that 
his family ate and wore. Emergencies—sickness and fire and 
protection of his homestead from prowlers—he met for himself. 
Later he had neighbors, one five and another eight miles away. 
Sometimes he helped them with their planting and harvesting, 
and they helped him in turn. Produce was marketed in the 
town, twenty miles along the cart-road. 
Today Ephraim Crosby’s grandchildren still live in the 
homestead, farming its many acres. The next house is a good 
mile away. But the Crosbys of today are not isolated. They 
neighbor with a nation. They buy and sell in the far city 
as well as in the county-seat. They have at their call the 
assistance and services of men in Chicago or New York, as 
well as men on the next farm. 
Stretching from the Crosbys’ farm living-room are telephone 
wires that lead to every part of the nation. Though they live 
in the distant countryside, the Crosbys enjoy the benefits of 
national telephone service as wholly as does the city dweller.. 
The plan and organization of the Bell System has extended 
the facilities of the telephone to all types of people. By pro¬ 
ducing a telephone service superior to any in the world at a 
cost within the reach of all to pay, the Bell System has made 
America a nation of neighbors. 
American Telephone and Telegraph Company 
And Associated Companies 
BELL SYSTEM 
One Policy, One System, Universal Service 
BOSCH 
Type 600 Ignition System for 
FORDS 
It is not just a timer, but acom- 
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starts, more power on the hills, 
smooth running under all con¬ 
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TRIAL OFFER, giving deal¬ 
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Box 2610 Springfield, Mass. 
SAW 
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Box 3 Belleville, Pa. 
Long Term Farm Mortgages 
TITE grant loans to farmers in New York 
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under the United States Government Plan. 
This plan gives you capital for thirty-three 
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Write now for information to 
New York and New Jersey Joint Stock Land Bank 
31 Clinton Street, Newark, N. J. 
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