American Agriculturist 
THE FARM PAPER THAT PRINTS THE FARM NEWS 
“Agriculture is the Most Healthful, Most Useful and Most Noble Employment of Man ”—Washington 
Reg. U. S. Pat. Off. Established 1842 
4 
Volume 112 For the Week Ending July 28, 1923 Number 4 
The Spirit of Neighborliness 
Has It Gone the Way of the Country Church and Doctor? 
AFTER reading—and rereading—with 
/\ the deepest interest and apprecia- 
A - % tion the articles on the “Country 
-<L A Churches and Their Pastors” and 
“The Country Doctor,” I am inviting myself 
“to speak out in meetin’ ” and inquire: 
“Where have the old-fashioned country 
neighbors gone?” I should more correctly 
ask where has the spirit of neighborliness 
gone, which was possessed in such brimming 
measure by those people of one, two and 
three generations ago! 
Most of those good souls have long since 
gone to their reward; which, if 
it is measured by their neighbor¬ 
ly kindness here, will be a won¬ 
drous one. 
When someone was sick in our 
community (and ours was but an 
example, I am sure, of all such 
little rural communities) there 
was somebody at the house with 
the family continually until the 
danger was past. 
The washing was quietly car¬ 
ried off to a neighboring home 
and the clean clothes brought 
back ironed and ready for use. 
Another neighbor kept a goodly 
array of eatables on hand. Truly 
there seemed to be no limit to 
the thoughtfulness of neighbors 
at a time like that. 
I recall the time when Jim 
Bird came home from .“down 
East” sick with typhoid fever. 
He was one of a large family 
and they all caught the disease 
except two. 
There was sickness in that 
home for several months and in all that time 
the family was never alone, one or more of 
the neighbors being present day and night. 
Finally, Jim’s mother and a sister died, with¬ 
in a few hours of each . other. Still the 
neighbors came, helped in every way. 
Occasionally there were most amusing in¬ 
cidents. For example, when Sam Jones was 
dying, one of the neighbor women and her 
two nephews were to stay up and care for 
him one night. Instead of also remaining 
up, for he knew his father could not live 
until morning, John Jones and his wife, 
Em, retired, telling Mrs. T- to “call 
them when everything was all over.” Mrs. 
T-s’ nephews, lads of perhaps fifteen 
years, while realizing the situation, saw 
mostly the amusing side of it, and especial¬ 
ly were amused and disgusted by John’s 
callousness. 
The house was an old log affair, poorly 
cared for, and had other tenants than the 
Jones family, as was evidenced by the sight 
of a number of bed bugs that appeared on 
the ceiling of the room where the sick man 
lay. Noticing these, one of the lads re¬ 
marked: “Say, Aunt Jane, it’s question 
Whether the bed bugs or the angels will get 
poor Sam first, isn’t it?” 
The poor old man died that night, cheered 
by the presence of the “neighbors,” when 
By AN A. A. READER 
his own son had left him to face death,, 
alone or not, it didn’t matter. 
And after everything was all over, Mrs. 
T-, “called John” as he had requested 
her. 
Most people now, unless those of an older 
generation, have no time to be neighborly, 
in sickness or in health. Some of them, to be 
sure, will run in at a neighbor’s at any hour 
of the day and will sit in at a card game if 
they can’t go elsewhere in the evening, but 
if you are sick and need help, then they are 
busy! 
I heard of an especially good illustration 
of my argument last winter. Two families 
living within a half-minute’s walk of each 
other were apparently the best of neighbors 
for as long as they had known each other. 
One entire family was taken down with the 
“flu” and not a soul from the other family 
entered the house thus stricken, for more 
than a fortnight, and then only for a call 
out of curiosity. Finally one out of the first 
family was called beyond. Then, the other 
family and all the rest of the neighbors 
couldn’t do enough to help! And they all 
said, “Why we didn’t dream he was so sick,” 
“we thought he was gaining,” and so, ad 
infinitum. 
They were so afraid of the "flu,” and also 
worried for fear they would lose time from 
their own work that they could not possibly 
have called on their neighbors, though they 
knew well that the family was all in various 
stages of sickness. 
In those olden times, many generous cus¬ 
toms prevailed among the farmers. 
At husking time, after a man got a “grist” 
ground, he shared the fresh corn-meal 
with his neighbors, giving each enough for 
several “Johnny-cakes.” Likewise with the 
man who first got his buckwheat ground 
each fall. All the rest of the neighbors got 
a share. 
Most always the men in a locality took 
turns butchering—one would butcher each 
week after cold weather started in, until all 
were done. After each butchering, a nice 
cut of fresh meat was given to each nearby 
family, thus giving everyone fresh meat over 
a long period. 
At sugaring time, the people who had no 
sugar bush were generously remembered by 
those who had. 
It was the same the year around. What¬ 
ever one had was shared, if there 
was enough, so sharing was pos¬ 
sible, with those less fortunate. 
Now any one has to hint shame¬ 
lessly for even an invitation to 
one of those good old-fashioned 
“sugar licks!” 
I personally knew of one case 
where people had a lovely bed of 
tame strawberries almost under 
the nose of their nearest neigh¬ 
bor, and the latter had a member 
of his family dying by inches 
with tuberculosis. Did Number 
One offer Number Two any ber¬ 
ries for the invalid? Why, there 
might not have been enough for 
them to can all they wanted if 
they had! But they’d pick quarts 
of them every morning in plain 
view of her bedroom window! 
Number Two being poor, the in¬ 
valid had to go without any ber¬ 
ries. Think of the treat it would 
have been for her if she could 
have had a few. 
I’ll admit that there are a few 
of those old-fashioned neighbors who still 
are among us, but they are few, far between 
and greatly unappreciated. 
It sounds like old “fogeyism,” truly, for 
anyone in this enlightened age to say it, 
but I agree with those who believe that 
the old times were the good times, with the 
emphasis on the good! There are so many 
wonders and strangely interesting happen¬ 
ings in this old world to-day that it seems 
to me we are losing sight of the simpler 
things, and faith in the love that passeth 
all understanding. 
In spite of the vaunted Christianity of 
those people who “rise up and testify,” rant 
and rave of their religion and their goodness, 
but if an erring or unfortunate brother or 
sister needs their charity (in the shape of 
kindly words, deeds or help in any form,) 
they too are afraid of soiling their own gar¬ 
ments by helping a fallen or needy one. Most 
of the older neighbors did not stop to figure 
out, “Am I my brother’s keeper.” Each did 
his best for all. 
Some may say that if one is neighborly, 
one will have good neighbors, but that does 
not always follow. It is hard to do one’s 
darndest for the neighbors and then get no 
thanks and no help in return. It gets 
monotonous finally—makes a fellow lone¬ 
some, too.—R. M. M. 
A Queer Lot! 
T HE writer of the very interesting article on this page is another 
.one who believes that the “good old times” were best. In send¬ 
ing it in, the writer said, “American Agriculturist has had interesting 
articles about the disappearing rural church and country doctor. Here 
is one about the going of the old-fashioned country neighborliness.” 
Is the writer right? 
It is strange how few there are that try to defend the present day 
as compared with the past. Probably the chief reason is that human 
memory has a habit of forgetting or softening the troubles of the 
past and emphasizing the pleasant times. But times are made mostly 
by people and people don’t change much through the years. Folks 
of to-day are on the whole fully as good as they were in olden times 
and if we believe in progress at all, probably they are a little better. 
When we of this generation get old we will tell the young folks of 
1950 about the good old times back in the 1920’s. Aren’t we humans 
a queer lot?—The Editors. 
