24 

Ws Take 
Pensin Hand 
Doar Editor. 
It’s RATHER HARD to understand 
why certain people think that tillers 
of our farming land are sadly on the 
blink. They say the farmer’s day is 
spent in unrelenting toil and claim he 
doesn’t make a cent by stirring up the 
soil. They seem to think no profit 
comes from plowing hill and dale, 
and every time the sprayer hums it’s 
simply costing kale, and in their 
dreams they plainly sense the poor, 
old, jaded wrecks; the knock-kneed, 
sunburned, frowsy gents who get it 
in the necks. 
It’s really hard to figure out, with 
backs against the wall, how all 
these farmers round about survive the 
life at all. You’d think, with all their 
handicaps, they'd chuck the farming 
job and shave the whiskers from their 
maps and join the starving mob. 
But listen, now, to what I say, and 
every word is true. You'll find the 
hayseed farmer Jay will pass a strict 
review. He never shirks at duty’s 
call, he’s game and on the square. In 
benefactions, great and small, you'll 
always find him there. Throughout 
our land the farming class, if taken as 
a whole, can show it’s able to amass 
a very nifty roll. Their county, state 
and income tax has steadily increased 
and though at times it strains their 
backs, they pay and grumble least. 
They stage no ostentatious show. 
They crave no wild acclaim. The 
thing they chiefly care to know is 
how to play the game. 
They send their sons and daughters, 
too, to colleges galore that they may 
learn just what to do to harvest more 
and more. And now, to sum the 
whole thing up and tell it as it is, the 
farmer sips the brimming cup and 
what's in it is his. He meets the en- 
tire blooming world and plays his 
cards to win. When sympathy at him 
is hurled, he springs his well-known 
grin. 
So do not feel extremely sad about 
the farmer’s fare. As sure as fate he’s 
always had his full and festive share, 
and though he seems as green as 
grass to rich and poor alike, you'll 
have to step upon the gas to pass him 
on the pike. Perhaps right now you'd 
like to hear just how the farmers plan 
to drive around year after year aboard 
a new sedan. 
Welle hete sete secret alletbey 
need to guarantee success is knowing 
where to buy their seed, not doing it 
by guess. They make their early esti- 
mates of what they'll have to buy, 
then hustle down to Eastern States 
to get their seed supply. 
Those seeds will grow in mud or 
sand and when the season stops they 
have to hire some extra land on which 
to pile the crops. Now, if perchance, 
you think I lie, in manner quite 
remiss, ask Mr. Hinshaw, he'll sup- 
ply a bigger one than this. Now, 
Brother, are you wide awake? or one 
who hesitates? You'll find you're 
making no mistake by knowing 
EasTERN STATES. 
— Nathan Marshall Southwick, 
Leicester, Massachusetts 
yx PLEASE SEND ME one copy of 
the recipe book, ‘Food, As We Like 
It’ . . . TL have a copy and think it 
is an unusually fine collection for the 
everyday homemaker. I want to give 
it as a present. — Mrs. Alden Ballard, 
Milton, Vermont. 
yx I NOTE in your November issue 
of the Cooperator that six of the 14 
Star Gardeners selected to attend the 
Star Gardeners’ Institute, were 4-H 
garden club members from Massa- 
chusetts. One of the alternates was 
also a Massachusetts 4-H garden club 
member. This speaks very well of our 
Massachusetts 4-H garden club mem- 
bers and I hope that next year we will 
have more competing for this honor 
of Star Gardeners. You are doing a 
fine piece of work in inviting these 
young people in to your Star Gar- 
deners’ Institute and I am sure it 
means a lot to these young people to 
receive this honor. — Earle H. No- 
dine, assistant State Club Leader, Am- 
herst, Massachusetts. 


Bert Wood of Concord, New Hampshire, who grows a good Eastern States garden 
annually, has built this attractive vegetable bin and canned goods storage cabinet 
in his basement. He has applied some Yankee in genuity about air flow temperature 
control and some of the finer points of storage. Anyway, he has what a lot of hus- 
bands have told their wives they were some day going to build — but it’s hats off 
to Bert Wood. He’s built it! 
