24S Wisconsin state agricultural society. 
the harvest field, and almost stifled in the smothering dust of the 
grain thrasher, when the ample means of the father should have 
made him an early inmate of academic halls. I have seen him 
torn from school, broken up in his college course, ridiculed in his 
intellectual efforts, derided for his want of pecuniary means; I 
have seen him taunted with all this, only to see him, like a true- 
blooded courser, vault all these barriers to roam the rich fields of 
literature, art and science, until, to-day he stands in an eastern 
pulpit as in a Castle Thunder, and flashes the lightning of his 
pure genius across half a continent.. Oh! if there is any man 
who t needs a steady hand and clear brain, it is the intelligent 
farmer who walks among the children of the soil. For it is from 
these, and not from the pampered sons of luxury and ease that 
the professions, the arts, the sciences, the ranks of business are to 
draw their reinforcements. From the old homestead, under the 
shadow of the hill, by the sunny side of the grove, in the green 
fields down by the meadow brooks, come the elements that freshen 
and purify the turbid waters that roll through the streets of the 
great cities. Hence, and from the workshops of the land, must 
come—does come—the “ salt that keeps the earth sweet.” 
It is a proud thing to be lord of the manor; to rear the blooded 
stock, speed the flashing share, turn the shining glebe, scatter the 
golden grain, gather the russet harvest; but the proudest, truest 
boast of the American farmer is, that he rears the sons who gov¬ 
ern the state and guide the nation. Fathers and mothers of Dane 
county! I know no higher, grander mission vouchsafed to man or 
woman on God’s broad earth ; and gladly would I, on this occa¬ 
sion, in earnest yet fitting words, rise to its high behests. I know 
it is yours to grapple with the hard facts of life ; it is your sweat 
and toil mingled with the soil of Mother Earth that creates the 
world, or at least forms its basis. You rise early and you toil 
late. Industry is your capital invested, and frugality your hope 
of reward. As the vices and frivolities of fashionable life float 
toward you on the wings of the press, you have the proud con¬ 
sciousness of knowing that in the great hive of human activity 
you have been no drone, and that you are no pensioner upon the 
world’s great bounties. But are there not some things in which 
you owe yourselves a higher meed of happiness than you have 
