530 QUEENSLAND AGRICULTURAL JOURNAL. {1 Dec., 1901. 
How then is the depopulation of the farms by the exodus of the sons of 
the house to be prevented? By affording less facilities for the education of 
rural children ?—by reducing the facilities for travelling? On the contrary, 
it is by doubling and trebling these facilities that the object is most likely to 
be attained. It is the class of education that demands immediate reform. The 
curriculum of the rural primary school should have a totally different trend. 
Does anybody doubt this? Then, we say, look at the work done by the agri- 
cultural colleges of Europe, America, and in a lesser degree of Australia. Com- 
pare the numbers of those who have attended the higher schools of the ordinar 
classical or commercial type and the numbers of those who have gone eta 
the three or five years’ (in some cases) course of a good agricultural college ; 
then follow the career of each batch of students. Those who have received the 
stereotyped school training will, taken as a whole (there are very many brilliant 
exceptions, of course), be found to hold positions in no way comparable to 
those held by students with the agricultural training. Hundreds, aye thousands, 
of young men have gone from the agricultural colleges into the world either as 
farmers of their own land, as graziers, as agricultural chemists, as farm managers, 
creamery and factory managers. They entered college with these objects in 
view, and they are successful, independent men. The ruck of the other schools 
hold their positions on a very precarious tenure. Let a panic occur in 
the money market, let a European war break out or a financial crisis 
occur, the farmer sits secure so far as his board and lodging are 
concerned, although he may lose his savings. The city worker in almost 
every capacity is what is delicately termed ‘‘retrenched ”—that is, cut off 
from his means of livelihood. But he must feed his family, clothe them, 
pay his rent and taxes. With no employment, no savings to fall back upon, 
what remains for him but debt and the insolvent court when the great financial 
crash occurs? The farmer can live in his rent-free house, he can live on the 
produce of his land, on his cattle, sheep, swine, and poultry, and has no difficulty 
in selling enough produce to procure whatever else he needs, for city people 
and city horses have to be fed whoever pays for the food, and no one but the 
farmer can supply it. 
It may be said that we paint the state of the farmer in too glowing colours. 
We only state the bare facts. We have tried it for many years, and therefore 
claim only to state the case as it stands. We merely assert that the farmer can 
live comfortably in times when a city worker would have to live by his wits. We 
also maintain that the love of a city life is injurious to the State in two ways at 
least: First, itrobs the farm of its best supports. Secondly, it robs the genuine 
city worker of his just wage by over-supplying the labour market. 
Ne sutor ultra crepidam is a very hackneyed aphorism, but we should like 
to see the farmers’ boys act on it. It means “ Let the shoemaker stick to his 
last.” For their benefit we will render it thus: “ Let the farmer’s son stick to 
his father’s farm.” 
SHEEP ON THE FARM. 
In connection with what we wrote last month on this subject, Professor 
Lowrie, when speaking at the thirteenth congress of the Agricultural Bureau 
of South Australia, in September last, at Adelaide, touched, amongst other 
matters, on the value of a flock of sheep to the farmer. The Journal of 
Agriculture of South Australia reports what the professor said as follows :— 
In this direction greater development is possible, and we can do more than 
we have done in the past through artificial manures. It is going to return 
money to us in a larger increase. I will give you an illustration of the value of 
this work, and the advantage gained from running sheep over the stubble land. 
This year I have 168 sheep Saal 104 lambs in a field of 150 acres, which must be 
considered good when the carrying capacity of the land previous to the use of 
