"I spent several days in 'Egypt' last month and I am planning to make another trip down there next week before deciding definitely about purchasing our poor land farm. I am not sure but the land of 'Egypt' is as poor as we ought to try to build up considering our limited means."

"Oh, do you think so? But Papa's land is not so poor is it?"

"No, it is not so poor in mineral plant food on the sloping areas, but even there it is extremely poor in humus and nitrogen. However, I fear I could not enjoy farming in irregular patches of five or ten acres, and the level lands of Virginia and Maryland are so exceedingly poor, that much time and money and work will be required to put them on a paying basis. There would be no pleasure or satisfaction in merely robbing other farms to build up mine, as some of the prosperous truck farmers and dairymen are doing. I should want to practice a system of soil improvement of unlimited application so that it would not be a curse to the agricultural people, as is the case with the man who builds up his farm only at the expense of other farms.

"We have been speaking of the development of agriculture on the small tracts of cultivable land in the great manufacturing States of New England. But, if we would make a fair comparison with a State like Illinois, we should consider some great agricultural State, as Georgia, for example, which is also one of the original thirteen. Georgia is a larger State than Illinois, and Georgia cultivates as many acres of corn and cotton as we cultivate in corn. But Georgia land cannot be covered with fertilizer made from Illinois corn, nor even with seaweed and fish-scrap from the ocean. Her agriculture must be an independent agriculture, just as the agriculture of Russia, India, and China must be, just as the agriculture of Illinois must be, and as the agriculture of all the great agricultural States must be. What is the result to date? The average yield of corn in Georgia is down to 11 bushels per acre. This is not for half of one township, but the average of four million acres for the last ten years; and this in spite of the fact that Georgia out more for the common acidulated manufactured so-called complete commercial fertilizer than any other State."

"That is appalling," said Adelaide, "but still some larger countries are building up their lands, such as those of Europe."

"In large part by the same methods as the New England truckers and dairymen are following," he replied, "and in comparison with the area and resources of their colonies and of the other great new countries upon which they draw for food and fertilizer, they are fairly comparable with the New England States in this country. Even the Empire of Germany is only four-fifths as large as Texas. The only country of Europe at all comparable with the United States is Russia, and in that great country the average yield of wheat for the last twenty years is eight and one-fourth bushels per acre, even though, as a general practice, the land is allowed to lie fallow every third year. The average yield for the five famine years that have occurred during the twenty-year period was six and one-quarter bushels of wheat per acre."

"That is wretched," said Adelaide, "I know about the Russian famines for we have made contributions through our church for their relief, but that condition can surely never come to this great rich new country, can it?"

"It will come just as certainly as we allow our soil fertility to decrease and our population to increase. As a nation we have scarcely lifted a hand yet to stop the waste of fertility or to restore exhausted lands; practically every effort put forth by the Federal government along agricultural lines having been directed toward better seeds, control of injurious insects and fungous diseases, exploitation of new lands by drainage and irrigation, popularly called 'reclamation,' although applied only to rich virgin soils which can certainly be brought under cultivation at any future time either by the Government or by private enterprise. But why should not the Federal government make all necessary provisions to furnish ground limestone and phosphate rock at the actual cost of quarrying, grinding, and transporting, in order that farmers on these old depleted soils may be encouraged to adopt systems of soil improvement; or even compelled to adopt such systems, just as they are compelled to build school houses, bridges, and battleships?"

"Perhaps the Government would do this," said Adelaide, "if the Secretary of Agriculture would recommend it."

"I have heard of the 'big if,'" Percy replied slowly, "but I am afraid this if will beat the record for bigness. His soil theorists continue to assure him that soils do not wear out, no matter how heavily cropped, if they are only rotated and cultivated; and to support their theories they have forsaken the data from the most carefully conducted and long continued scientific investigations, and indulged in a game of guessing that the increasing productiveness of a few small countries of Europe is not due to any necessary addition of plant food.

"But here is the depot, and I have taken almost an hour to drive three miles. If I had hurried, you might have been back home by this time. I am afraid I have been selfish in allowing the team to walk nearly all of the way, but they will at least be fresh for the home trip which you promised to make in less than twenty minutes, I remember. Now if you will hold the lines, I will run into the store to get the thread. I remember the kind; I often do such errands for mother."

"I will wait while you get your ticket and find out if the train is on time," said Adelaide, as Percy returned with the thread.

"At least fifty minutes late," he reported, "and the agent said he was glad of it for he would need about that time to make out such a long-jointed ticket as I want. I am rather glad too, for I can watch you to the turn in the road on the hill, which must be a mile or more, and I will time you. You can have six minutes to make that corner."

"You mean I can have six minutes to get out of sight," she suggested.

"I think you are out of sight," he ventured.

Adelaide reddened. "I shall have to tell mother what slang you use," she said.

"I hope you will," he retorted, "for I have watched her watch you and I am sure she will agree with me. But I do feel that I owe you a sincere apology for taking up the time we have had together with this long discussion of the things that are of such special interest to me. I have been alone with my mother so much and she is always so ready and so able, I may add, to discuss any sort of business matter that I fear I have been forgetful of your forbearance."

"But you really have not," Adelaide replied. "I keep books for papa, and I am very much interested in these social and economic questions which are so fundamental to the perpetuity of our State and National prosperity. I have been both entertained and instructed by these discussions; and I might say, honored, too, that you do not consider me too young and foolish to talk of serious subjects."

"I am sure it is kind of you to make good excuses for me. You have at any rate relieved my mind of some burden, but I am sure you are the only woman I have ever known, except my mother, who could endure discussions of this sort. I have so greatly enjoyed the few short visits I have had with you. I wish I might write to you and I shall be so much interested to learn what success your father has if he begins a system of soil improvement. Would it be presuming to hope that I might hear from you also?"

"I am papa's stenographer," she replied, "and perhaps he will dictate and I will write. We will be glad to hear of your safe return,—and you,—you might ask papa. Now, I shall soon be out of sight."

"Please don't," begged Percy. "It is still forty-five minutes 'at least,' before the train comes. Let me go a piece with you. I will leave my suit case here and with nothing to carry I shall easily walk a mile in twenty minutes. May I drive, please?"

"No, I will drive. I want to ask you another question, and I am afraid you would drive too fast.

"You mentioned some long-continued scientific investigations which I assumed referred to the yield of crops. What were they?"

"I meant such investigations as those at Rothamsted and also those conducted at Pennsylvania State College. I have some of the exact data here in my note book.

"In 1848, Sir John Lawes and Sir Henry Gilbert began at Rothamsted, England, two four-year rotations. One was turnips, barley, fallow, and wheat; and the other was turnips, barley, clover, and wheat. Whenever the clover failed, which has been frequent, beans were substituted, in order that a legume crop should be grown every fourth year.

"The average of the last twenty years represents the average yields about fifty years from the beginning of this rotation.

"In the legume system, as an average of the last twenty years, the use of mineral plant food has increased the yield of turnips from less than one-half ton to more than twelve tons; increased the yield of barley from thirteen and seven-tenths bushels to twenty-two and two-tenths bushels; increased the yield of clover (when grown) from less than one-half ton to almost two tons; increased the yield of beans (when grown) from sixteen bushels to twenty-eight and three-tenths bushels; and increased the yield of wheat from twenty-four and three-tenths bushels to thirty-eight and four-tenths bushels per acre.

"In the legume system the minerals applied have more than doubled the value of the crops produced, have paid their cost, and made a net profit of one hundred and forty per cent. on the investment, in direct comparison with the unfertilized land.

"If we compare the average yield of turnips, barley, clover, and wheat of the last twenty years with the yield of turnips in 1848, barley in 1849, clover in 1850 and wheat in 1851 we find that on the unfertilized land in this rotation of crops in fifty years the yield of turnips has decreased from ten tons to one-half ton, and the yield of barley has decreased from forty-six to fourteen bushels, the yield of clover has decreased from two and eight-tenths tons per acre to less than one-half ton, while the yield of wheat has decreased only from thirty bushels to twenty-four bushels. As a general average the late yields are only one-third as large as they were fifty years before on the same land. Wheat grown once in four years has been the only crop worth raising on the unfertilized land during the last twenty years, and even the wheat crop has distinctly decreased in yield; although where mineral plant food was applied the yield has increased from thirty bushels, in 18851 to thirty-eight bushels as an average of the last twenty years. In the fallow rotation on the unfertilized land the yield of wheat averaged thirty-four and five-tenths bushels during the first twenty years (1848 to 1867) and twenty-three and five-tenths bushels during the last twenty years.

"On another Rothamsted field the phosphorus actually removed in fifty-five crops from well-fertilized land is two-thirds as much as the total phosphorus now contained in the plowed soil of adjoining untreated land.

"In the early 80's the Pennsylvania Agricultural Experiment Station began a four-year crop rotation, including corn, oats, wheat, and mixed clover and timothy.

"There are five plots in each of four different fields that have received no applications of plant food from the beginning. Thus, every year the crops are carefully harvested and weighed from twenty measured plots of ground that receive no treatment except the rotation of crops. The difference between the average of the first twelve years and the average of the second twelve years should represent the actual change in productive power during a period of twelve years. These averages show that the yield of corn has decreased from forty-one and seven-tenths bushels to twenty-seven and seven-tenths bushels; that the yield of oats has decreased from thirty-six and seven-tenths bushels to twenty-five bushels; that the yield of wheat has decreased only from thirteen and three-tenths bushels to twelve and eight-tenths bushels; and that the yield of hay has decreased from three thousand seventy pounds to two thousand one hundred and eighty pounds.

"As a general average of these four crops the annual value of produce from one acre has decreased from $11.05 to $8.18. Here we have information which is almost if not quite equal in value to that from the Agdell rotation field at Rothamsted. While the Rothamsted experiments cover a period of sixty years, each crop was grown but once in four years; whereas, in the Pennsylvania experiments, there have been four different series of plots, so that in twenty-four years there have been twenty-four crops of corn, twenty-four crops of oats, twenty-four crops of wheat, and twenty-four crops of hay.

"Under this four-year rotation the value of the crops produced has decreased twenty-six per cent. in twelve years. What influence will impress that fact upon the minds of American landowners? A loss amounting to more than one-fourth of the productive power of the land in a rotation with clover seeded every fourth year! This one fact is the mathematical result of four hundred and eighty other facts obtained from twenty different pieces of measured land during a period of twenty-four years.

"As an average of these twenty-four years, the addition of mineral plant food produced increases in crop yields above the unfertilized land as follows:

Corn increased forty-five per cent. Oats increased thirty-two per cent. Wheat increased forty-two per cent. Hay increased seventy-seven per cent.

"As a general average of the four crops for the twenty-four years, the produce where mineral plant food is applied, was forty-nine per cent. above the yields of the unfertilized land, although the same rotation of crops was practiced in both cases."

"Those are some of the absolute facts of science secured from practical application in the adoption and development of definite systems of permanent prosperous agriculture, and they should be made to serve this greatest and most important industry just as the established facts of mathematical and physical science are made to serve in engineering."

"I am glad to know about those long-continued experiments," said Adelaide. "They are of fascinating interest. I have been so sorry for grandma, and for papa and mamma, because of their increasing discouragement over our farm. I do hope we may profit from this fund of accumulated information which has already been secured from long years of investigation. Surely we must endeavor to avoid in America the awful conditions that already exist in the older agricultural countries, where the lands are depleted and the people are brought to greater poverty than even here in Virginia.

"But we have already reached the turn, and you have a mile to walk. How much time have you?"

"Thirty minutes yet," said Percy. "Wait just a moment. Have you read Lincoln's stories?"

"Many of them, yes."

"Here is the best one he ever told; I have copied it on a card. He told it to a meeting of farmers at the close of an address in which he urged them to study the science of agriculture and to adopt better methods of farming:

"'An Eastern monarch once charged his wise men to invent him a sentence to be ever in view, and which should be true and appropriate in all times and situations. They presented him the words, "And this, too, shall pass away." How much it expresses! How chastening in the hour of pride! How consoling in the depths of affliction! "And this, too, shall pass away." And yet, let us hope, it is not quite true. Let us hope, rather, that by the best cultivation of the physical world beneath and around us, and the best intellectual and moral world within us, we shall secure an individual, social, and political prosperity and happiness, whose course shall be onward and upward, and which, while the earth endures, shall not pass away.'"

"I agree with you that it is his best story," said Adelaide, as Percy finished reading and placed the card in her hand. "Now you must go or I shall insist upon taking you back to the station."

"I shall stand here and time you till you reach the next turn," he replied. "Then you will be in sight of Westover. One! Two! Three! Go!"



CHAPTER XXXIII

THE DIAGNOSIS AND PRESCRIPTION



WINTERBINE, ILLINOIS,

December 4, 1 903

Mr. T. O. Thornton, Blairville, VA.

MY DEAR SIR:—I beg to report that I returned home a few days ago and found my mother well and busy as usual. We have definitely decided that we will not accept your kind offer to sell us a part of your farm, but we appreciate nevertheless the sacrifice, at least from the standpoint of sentiment, which Mrs. Thornton and Miss Russell were willing to make, in order to permit us to secure such a farm as we might want in a splendid situation.

As a matter of fact we are thinking very seriously of purchasing a farm in Southern Illinois. My mother much prefers to remain in Illinois, and for some reasons I have the same preference on her account.

While in Washington I was fortunate enough to find that a soil survey had been completed for your county and also that a partial ultimate analysis had been made of the common loam soil of your farm, such as we sampled. Following are the number of pounds per acre for the surface soil to a depth of six and two-thirds inches,—that is, for two million pounds of soil.

610 pounds of phosphorus

13,200 pounds of potassium

1,200 pounds of magnesium

3,430 pounds of calcium

As compared with a normal fertile soil, your land is very deficient in phosphorus and magnesium, and, as you know, the soil is acid. It is better supplied with potassium than with any other important element.

I would suggest that you make liberal use of magnesian limestone,—at least two tons per acre every four or five years,—and the initial application might better be five or even ten tons per acre if you are ready to make such an investment.

I am sorry that the nitrogen content of the soil was not determined, or at least not published in the bulletin. There can be no doubt, however, that your soil is extremely deficient in organic matter and nitrogen, and you will understand that liberal use should be made of legume crops. The known nitrogen content of legumes and other crops will be a help to you in planning your crop rotation and the disposition of the crops grown.

As to phosphorus, it is safe to say that in the long run fine-ground rock phosphate will prove the best investment; but for a few years it might be best to make some use of acid phosphate in addition to the raw rock, at least until you are ready to begin turning under more organic matter with the phosphate.

There is only one other suggestion: If you wish to make a start toward better crops as soon as possible, you may well use some kainit,—say six hundred pounds per acre every four or five years, preferably applied with the phosphate. In the absence of decaying organic matter, the potassium of the soil becomes available very slowly. The kainit furnishes both potassium and magnesium in soluble form and it also contains sulfur and chlorin. As soon as you can provide plenty of decaying organic matter you will probably discontinue the use of both kainit and acid phosphate. If you sell only grains and animal products, the amount of potassium sold from the farm is very small compared with your supply of that element, which would be sufficient for one hundred bushels of corn per acre for seven hundred years.

I have some doubt if it will be worth the expense involved to have the samples of subsurface and subsoil analyzed at this time; but you might save them for future use if desired.

I shall always appreciate the kindness shown me by being permitted to enjoy your hospitality and to profit from the information you were so able to give me concerning the history and general character of your lands.

My mother asks to have her kind regards extended to you and yours.

Very sincerely yours,

PERCY JOHNSTON.

WESTOVER, January 2, 1904. Percy Johnston, Esq., Winterbine, Ill.

MY DEAR FRIEND:—We were all pleased to receive your letter informing us of your safe journey back to Illinois. I had hoped that you might find a piece of land here in the East which would suit you; but I am not surprised that you and your mother should prefer to remain in Illinois, because of your former associations and your better knowledge of the Western conditions. Northern men who come South often have serious difficulty to manage our negro labor.

I am surprised, however, that you were able to purchase, even in Southern Illinois, such prairie land as you describe for the price of $18 per acre. I supposed $190 an acre for your corn belt farm was a good price, although it is commonly reported to us that Illinois land is selling for $150 to $200 an acre.

Now, in regard to correspondence with Adelaide, let me say that we could have no objection whatever, except that it might be misunderstood, more especially, of course, by Professor Barstow. I do not think I mentioned it to you, but the fact is that the Professor and Adelaide are essentially betrothed. I do not know that the final details are perfected, but doubtless they are, for they have been much together during the Christmas weeks. The Barstows, as you probably know, are still among the most prominent people of North Carolina. Adelaide is young yet and we respect her reticence, but her mother and I have both given our consent and Professor Barstow has every reason to be satisfied with the reception he invariably receives from Adelaide.

I only mention this matter to you that you may understand why misunderstanding might arise in case of such correspondence as you suggest, even though, as Adelaide has explained, she has very naturally become interested temporarily in some of the economic and social questions relating to agriculture, and would unquestionably read your letters concerning these state and national problems with continued interest. I shall hope, however, that she may still have that satisfaction, for I am very deeply interested in all such questions, and I am particularly interested to know more of the details of your southern Illinois farm, including the invoice of the soil, which you say has been taken by your Experiment Station, and especially your definite plans for the improvement of the land. I hope the name you have chosen for your farm is not so appropriate as it would be for some of our old Virginia farms.

I shall also be under renewed obligation to you if I may occasionally submit questions concerning the best plans for the restoration of Westover to its former productiveness. I have decided at least to make another trial with alfalfa next summer, following the valuable suggestions you gave me.

In closing let me renew my assurance of our deep gratitude for the special service you so nobly rendered when fiendish danger threatened my daughter. We shall always regard you as a gentleman of the highest type. Very respectfully yours,

CHARLES WEST.

Percy read this letter hurriedly to the end, and then slowly reread it. His mother noticed that he absent-mindedly replaced the letter in the envelope instead of reading it to her as was his custom. However, he laid the letter by her plate and talked with her about the corn-shelling which was to begin as soon as the corn sheller could be brought from the neighbor's where Percy had been helping to haul the corn from the sheller to elevator at Winterbine. Dinner finished, he hurried out to complete the preparations for the afternoon's work. We have no right to follow him. His mother only saw that he went to the little granary where a few loads of corn were to be stored for future use. Yes, she saw that he closed the door as he entered. Not even his mother could see her son again a child. Women and children weep, not men. The heart strings draw tight and tighter until they tear or snap. The body is racked with the anguish of the mind. The form reels and sinks to the floor. The head bows low. Pent up tears fall like rain.—No, that cannot be. Men do not shed tears. If they are mental cowards and physical brutes they pass from hence by a short and easy route and leave the burdens of life to their wives and mothers and disgraced families. If they are Christian men they seek the only source of help.

Mrs. Johnston watched and waited—it seemed an hour, but was only a quarter of that time till the granary door opened and she saw Percy pass to the barn with a step which satisfied her mother's eye.

She drew out the letter, and from a life habit of making sure, pressed the envelope to see that it contained nothing more. She noted a slip of crumpled paper and drew it out. Upon it was written in a penciled scrawl:

"Her grandma has not consented."

She read the letter, stood for a moment as in meditation, then replaced the slip and letter in the envelope, and laid it on Percy's desk. The letter was plainly a man's handwriting. The envelope was addressed in a bold hand that was clearly not Mr. West's writing.



CHAPTER XXXIV

PLANNING FOR LIFE



HEART-OF-EGYPT, ILLINOIS, June 16, 1904.

Mr. Charles West,

Blue Mound, Va.

MY DEAR SIR:—I have delayed writing to you in regard to the plans for Poorland Farm, until I could feel that we are able at least to make an outline of tentative nature. The labor problem of a farm of three hundred and twenty acres is of course very different from that on forty acres, and we are not yet fully decided regarding our crop rotation and the disposition of the crops produced (or hoped for). I realize that to rebuild in my life what another has torn down during his life is a task the end of which can hardly be even dimly foreshadowed. Some friends are already beginning to ask me what results I am getting, and they apparently feel that we must succeed or fail with a trial of a full season. I have said to them that I have no objection whatever to discussing our plans at any time, so far as we are yet able to make plans, but that I shall not be ready to discuss results with anyone until we begin to secure crop yields in the third rotation. This means that I am not expecting the benefits of a six-year rotation of crops before the rotation has been actually practiced. You will understand of course that, if all your land had been cropped with little or no change, for all its history, you would require six or eight years' time before you would be able to grow a crop of corn on land that had been pastured for six or eight years; but some people seem to take it for granted that one can adopt a six-year rotation and enjoy the full benefits of it the first season.

I remember that you were surprised that I could buy a level upland farm even in this part of Illinois for $18 an acre; but you will probably be more surprised to learn that this farm had not paid the previous owners two per cent. interest on $18 an acre as an average of the last five years. In fact, sixty acres of it had grown no crops for the last five years. It was largely managed by tenants on the basis of share rent, and because of this I have been able to secure the records of several years.

I at least had some satisfaction in purchasing this farm, for the real estate men were left without a single "talking point." I insisted that I wanted the poorest prairie farm in "Egypt," and whenever they began to tell me that the soil on a certain farm was really above the average, or that the land had been well cared for until recently, or that it had been fertilized a good deal, etc., I at once informed them that any advantage of that sort completely disqualified any farm for me; and that they need not talk to me about any farms except those that represented the poorest and most abused in Southern Illinois.

I may say, however, that $20 an acre is about the average price of the average land. I had an option on a three hundred and sixty acre farm cornering the corporation limits of the County Seat for $30 an acre, and all agreed that the farm was above the average in quality.

Heart-of-Egypt is a small station on the double track of the Chicago-New Orleans line of the Illinois Central, and there are three other railroads passing through our County Seat. Poorland Farm is less than two miles from Heart-of-Egypt and only five miles from the County Seat, with level roads to both.

As to the soil, I may say that in some respects it is poorer than yours, but in others not so poor. The amount of plant food contained in six and two-thirds inches of the surface soil of an acre, representing two million pounds of soil, are as follows:

2,880 pounds of nitrogen

840 pounds of phosphorus

24,940 pounds of potassium

6,740 pounds of magnesium

14,660 pounds of calcium

By referring to the invoice of your most common land, you will see that Westover is richer in phosphorus, in magnesium, and in calcium, than Poorland Farm. But, while your soil contains a half more of that rare element phosphorus, ours contains a half more of the abundant element potassium. In the supply of nitrogen we have a distinct advantage, because our soil contains nearly three times as much as your most common cultivated land, and even twice as much as your level upland soil, which you consider too poor for farming, but in which phosphorus and not nitrogen must be the first limiting element, the same as with ours.

The fact is that the nitrogen problem in the East was one of the reasons why we have chosen to locate in Southern Illinois. I am confident that the level lands I saw about Blairville and over in Maryland are more deficient in organic matter and nitrogen than your uncultivated level upland, and probably even more deficient than your common gently sloping cultivated lands, because of your long rotation with much opportunity for nitrogen fixation by such legumes will grow in your meadows and pastures, including the red clover which you regularly sow, the white clover, which is very persistent, and the Japan clover, which it seems to me has really benefited you more than the others.

To me a difference in nitrogen content of two thousand pounds per acre signifies a good deal. It plainly signifies a hundred years' of "working the soil for all that's in it," beyond what has yet been done to our "Egypt." The cost of two thousand pounds of nitrogen in sodium nitrate would be at least $300 and even that would not include the organic matter, which has value for its own sake because of the power of its decomposition products to liberate the mineral elements from the soil, as witness the most common upland soils of St. Mary county, Maryland, with a phosphorus content reduced to one hundred and sixty pounds per acre in two million pounds of the ignited soil. The ten-inch plows of Maryland, the twelve-inch of Southern Illinois, the fourteen-inch of the corn belt, and the sixteen-inch of the newer regions of the Northwest, signify something as to the influence of organic matter upon the horsepower required in tillage; and the organic matter also has a value because it increases the power of the soil to absorb and retain moisture and to resist surface washing and "running together" to form the hard surface crust.

To think of applying two thousand pounds of nitrogen by plowing under two hundred tons of manure or forty tons of clover per acre at least requires a "big think," as my Swede man would say.

Of course, with our western life and cosmopolitan population, where "a man's a man for a' that," mother feels that it would not be easy for us to fit into your somewhat distinctly stratified society. We would not be "colored" if we could, and perhaps we could not be aristocratic if we would; and the opportunity to become, or, perhaps I should say, to remain, "poor white trash," though wide open, is not very alluring. I realize, of course, that there are some whole-souled people like the West's and Thornton's, but I also found some of the tribe of Jones, and I have much doubt as to the social standing of one who would feel obliged to demonstrate that he could spread more manure in a day than his hired nigger.

My Swede and I are like brothers; we clean stables together and talk politics, science, and agriculture. In fact he is as much interested as I am in the building up of Poorland Farm, and has already contributed some very practical suggestions. I pay him moderate wages and a small percentage of the farm receipts after deducting certain expenses which he can help to keep as low as possible, such as for labor, repairs, and purchase of feed and new tools, but without deducting the taxes or interest on investment or the cost of any permanent improvements, such as the expense for limestone, phosphate, new fences and buildings, and breeding stock.

Referring again to the invoice of the soil, I may say that the percentage of the mineral plant foods increases with depth, the same as in your soil, but not to such an extent, and with one exception. The phosphorus content of our surface soil is greater than that of the subsurface, but below the subsurface the phosphorus again increases. This is probably due to the fact that the prairie grasses that grew here for centuries extracted some phosphorus from the subsurface in which their roots fed to some extent, and left it in the organic residues which accumulated in the surface soil.

Aside from the difference in organic matter, the physical character of our soil is distinctly inferior to the loam soils about Blairville and Leonardtown. We have a very satisfactory silt loam surface, but the structure of our subsoil is quite objectionable. It is a tight clay through which water passes very slowly, so slowly that the practicability of using tile-drainage is still questioned by the State University, although the experiments which the University soil investigators have already started in several counties here in "Egypt" will ultimately furnish us positive knowledge along this line.

As for me, I purpose making no experiments, whatever. I do not see how I or any other farmer can afford to put our limited funds into experiments, especially when we often lack the facilities for taking the exact and complete data that are needed. It takes time and labor and some equipment to make accurate measurements, to weigh every pound of fertilizer applied and every crop carefully harvested from measured and carefully seeded areas, especially selected because of their uniform and representative character. I think this is public business and it is best done by the State for the benefit of all.

I have heard narrow politicians call it class legislation to appropriate funds for such agricultural investigations, but the fact is that to investigate the soil and to insure an abundant use of limestone, phosphate, or other necessary materials required for the improvement and permanent maintenance of the fertility of the soil is legislation for all the people, both now and hereafter. Would that our Statesmen would think as much of maintaining this most important national resource, as they do of maintaining our national honor by means of battleships and an army and navy supported at an expense of three hundred million dollars a year, sufficient to furnish ten tons of limestone to every acre of Virginia land, an amount twenty times the Nation's appropriation for agriculture; and even this is largely used in getting new lands ready for the bleeding process, instead of reviving those that have been practically bled to death.

As for me, I shall simply take the results which prove profitable on the accurately conducted experiment fields of the University of Illinois, one of which is located only seven miles from Poorland Farm, and on the same type of soil, I shall try to profit by that positive information, and await the accumulation of conclusive data relating to tile-drainage and other possible improvements of uncertain practicability for "Egypt."

Say, but our soil is acid! The University soil survey men say that the acidity is positive in the surface, comparative in the subsurface, and superlative in the subsoil. Two of them insisted that the subsoil has an acid taste. The analysis of a set of soil samples collected near Heart-of-Egypt shows that to neutralize the acidity of the surface soil will require seven hundred and eighty pounds of limestone per acre, while three tons are required for the first twenty inches, and sixteen tons for the next twenty inches. The tight clay stratum reaches from about twenty to thirty-six inches. Above this is a flour-like gray layer varying in thickness from an inch to ten inches, but below the tight clay the subsoil seems to be more porous, and I am hoping that we may lay tile just below the tight clay and then puncture that clay stratum with red clover roots and thus improve the physical condition of the soil. I asked Mr. Secor, a friend who operates a coal mine,—and farms for recreation,—if he thought alfalfa could be raised on this type of soil. He replied: "That depends on what kind of a gimlet it has on its tap root."

Some of the farmers down here tell me confidentially that "hardpan" has been found on their neighbors' farms, but I have not talked with any one who has any on his own farm. I am very glad the University has settled the matter very much to the comfort of us "Egyptians," by reporting that no true "hardpan" exists in Illinois, although there are extensive areas underlain with tight clay, "of whom, as it were, we are which."

I am glad that the nitrogen-fixing and nitrifying bacteria do business chicfly in the surface soil, because we are not prepared to correct the acidity to any very great depth.

The present plan is to practice a six-year rotation on six forty-acre fields, as follows:

First year—Corn (and legume catch crop).

Second year—Part oats or barley, part cowpeas or soy beans.

Third year—Wheat.

Fourth year—Clover, or clover and timothy.

Fifth year—Wheat, or clover and timothy.

Sixth year—Clover, or clover and timothy.

This plan may be a grain system where wheat is grown the fifth year, only clover seed being harvested the fourth and sixth years, or it may be changed to a live-stock system by having clover and timothy for pasture and meadow the last three years, which may be best for a time, perhaps, if we find it too hard to care for eighty acres of wheat on poorly drained land.

In somewhat greater detail the system may be developed we hope about as follows:

First year: Corn, with mixed legumes, seeded at the time of the last cultivation, on perhaps one-half of the field. These legumes may include some cowpeas and soy beans and some sweet clover, but that is not yet fully decided upon.

Second year: Oats (part barley, perhaps) on twenty acres, cowpeas on ten acres, and soy beans on ten acres. The peas and beans are to be seeded on the twenty acres where the catch crop of legumes is to be plowed under as late in the spring as practicable.

Third year: Wheat with alsike on twenty acres and red clover on the other twenty, seeded in the early spring. If necessary to prevent the clover or weeds from seeding, the field will be clipped about the last of August.

Fourth year: Harvest the red clover for hay and the alsike for seed, and apply limestone after plowing early for wheat.

Fifth year: Wheat, with alsike and red clover seeded and clipped as before.

Sixth year: Pasture in early summer, then clip if necessary to secure uniformity, and later harvest the red clover for seed. Manure may be applied to any part of this field from the time of wheat harvest the previous year until the close of the pasture period. Then it may be applied to the alsike only until the red clover seed crop is removed, and then again to any part of the field, which may also be used for fall pasture. To this field the threshed clover straw and all other straw not needed for feed and bedding will be applied. The application of raw phosphate will be made to this field, and all of this material plowed under for corn.

The second six years is to be a repetition of the first, except that the alsike and red clover will be interchanged, so as to avoid the development of clover sickness if possible; and to keep the soil uniform we may interchange the oats with the peas and beans.

This system provides for the following crops each year:

40 acres of corn;

20 acres of oats;

10 acres of cowpeas for hay

10 acres of soy beans for seed

80 acres of wheat

20 acres of red clover for hay

20 acres of alsike for seed

20 acres of red clover for seed

20 acres of alsike for pasture, except from June to August.

We also have some permanent pasture which we may use at any time that may seem best. If necessary we may cut all the clover for hay the fourth year, and we may pasture all summer the sixth year. We can pasture the corn stalks during the fall and winter when the ground is in suitable condition.

We plan to raise our own horses and perhaps some to sell. In addition we may raise a few dairy cows for market, but will do little dairying ourselves.

We expect to sell wheat and some corn, and if successful we shall sell some soy beans, alsike seed, and red clover seed.

How soon we shall be able to get this system fully under way I shall not try to predict; but we shall work toward this end unless we think we have good reason to modify the plan.

I hope to make the initial application of limestone five tons per acre, but after the first six years this will be reduced to two or three tons. I also plan to apply at least one ton per acre of fine-ground raw phosphate every six years until the phosphorus content of the plowed soil approaches two thousand pounds per acre, after which the applications will probably be reduced to about one-half ton per acre each rotation.

There are three things that mother and I are fully decided upon:

First, that we shall use ground limestone in sufficient amounts to make the soil a suitable home for clover.

Second, that we shall apply fine-ground rock phosphate in such amounts as to positively enrich our soil in that very deficient element.

Third, that we shall reserve a three-rod strip across every forty-acre field as an untreated check strip to which neither limestone nor phosphate shall ever be applied, and that we shall reserve another three-rod strip to which limestone is applied without phosphate, while the remaining thirty-seven acres are to receive both limestone and phosphate.

Thus we shall always have the satisfaction of seeing whatever clearly apparent effects are produced by this fundamental treatment, even though we may not be able to bother with harvesting these check strips separate from the rest of the field.

We have based our decision regarding the use of ground limestone very largely upon the long-continued work of the Pennsylvania Agricultural Experiment Station as to the comparative effects of ground limestone and burned lime, which is supported, to be sure, by all comparative tests so far as our Illinois soil investigators have been able to learn.

The practicability and economy of using the fineground natural phosphate has been even more conclusively established, as you already know, by the concordant results of half a dozen state experiment stations. There are only two objections to the use of the raw phosphate. One of these is the short-sighted plan or policy of the average farmer, and the other is the combined influence of about four-hundred fertilizer manufacturers who prefer to sell, quite naturally, perhaps, two tons of acid phosphate for $30, or four tons of so-called "complete" fertilizer for $70 to $90, rather than to see the farmer buy direct from the phosphate mine one ton of fine-ground raw rock phosphate in which he receives the same amount of phosphorus, at a cost of $7 to $9.

Until we can provide a greater abundance of decaying organic matter we may make some temporary use of kainit, in case the experiments conducted by the state show that it is profitable to do so.

In a laboratory experiment, made at college it was shown that when raw phosphate was shaken with water and then filtered, the filtrate contained practically no dissolved phosphorus; but, if a dilute solution of such salts as exist in kainit was used in place of pure water, then the filtrate would contain very appreciable amounts of phosphorus.

In addition to this benefit, the kainit will furnish some readily available potassium, magnesium, and sulfur; and, by purchasing kainit in carload lots, the potassium will cost us less than it would in the form of the more expensive potassium chlorid or potassium sulfate purchased in ton lots. Of course we do not need this in order to add to our total stock of potassium, but more especially I think to assist in liberating phosphorus from the raw phosphate which is naturally contained in the soil and which we shall also apply to the soil, unless the Government permits the fertilizer trusts to get such complete control of our great natural phosphate deposits that they make it impossible for farmers to secure the fine-ground rock at a reasonable cost, which ought not, I would say, to be more than one hundred per cent. net profit above the expense of mining, grinding, and transportation. We may feel safe upon the matter of transportation rates, for the railroads are operated by men of large enough vision to see that the positive and permanent maintenance of the fertility of the soil is the key to their own continued prosperity, and some of them are already beginning to understand that the supply of phosphorus is the master key to the whole industrial structure of America; for, with a failing supply of phosphorus, neither agriculture nor any dependent industry can permanently prosper in this great country.

If we retain the straw on the farm and sell only the grain, the supply of potassium in the surface soil of Poorland Farm is sufficient to meet the needs of a fifty bushel crop of wheat per acre every year for nineteen hundred and twenty years, or longer than the time that has passed since the Master walked among men on the earth; whereas, the total phosphorus content of the same soil is sufficient for only seventy such crops, or for as long as the full life of one man. Keep in mind that Poorland Farm is near Heart-of-Egypt, and that this is the common soil of our "Egyptian Empire," which contains more cultivable land than all New England, has the climate of Virginia, and a network of railroads scarcely equalled in any other section of this country, and in addition it is more than half surrounded by great navigable rivers.

On Poorland Farm there are seven forty-acre fields which are at least as nearly level as they ought to be to permit good surface drainage, and there is no need that a single hill of corn should be omitted on any one of these seven fields; and I am confident that with an adequate supply of raw phosphate rock and magnesian limestone and a liberal use of legume crops this land can be made to pay interest on $300 an acre.

Why not? At Rothamsted, England, they have averaged thirty-eight and four-tenths bushels of wheat per acre during the last twenty years in an experiment extending over sixty years, and they have done this without a forkful of manure or a pound of purchased nitrogen. Why not? The wheat alone from eighty acres of land, if it yielded forty bushels per acre and sold at $1 a bushel, would pay nearly five per cent. interest on $300 an acre for the entire two hundred and forty acres used in my suggested rotation.

Aye, but there is one other very essential requirement: To wit, a world of work.

Hoping to hear from you, and especially about your alfalfa, I am,

Very sincerely yours,

PERCY JOHNSTON.



CHAPTER XXXV

SEALED LIPS



No one realized more than Percy Johnston that toleration of life itself was possible to him only because of the world of work that he found always at hand in connection with his abiding faith and interest in the upbuilding of Poorland Farm. He had accepted Adelaide's sweet smile and lack of apparent disapproval with confidence that he might at least have an opportunity to try to win her love. As he was permitted at the parting to look for more than an instant into those alluring eyes, he felt so sure that they expressed something more than friendship or gratitude for him. He had felt the more confidence because he thought he knew that she would not permit him to humiliate himself by asking and failing to receive from her father permission to write to her, when she could easily in her own womanly way have discouraged such a thought at once. Had she not insisted upon driving slowly back to the turn in the road, and did he not feel the absence of a previous reserve?

Oh, misleading imagination. The will is truly the father of thought and faith. Percy knew as he parted from Adelaide that he had left with her the love of heart and mind of one whose life had developed in him the character which does nothing by halves. His love had multiplied with the distance as he journeyed westward, with a great new pleasure which life seemed to hold before him and with a pardonable confidence in its achievement.

He had written Mr. West a week after his return in a way which would not fail of understanding if his hopes were justified. The belated reply which reached him after holidays was accepted as final. His pride was humiliated and the sweetest dream of his life abruptly ended. He felt the more helpless and the more deeply wounded because of Mr. West's reference to his special service in the protection he had once rendered to Adelaide. It continually reminded him that, as the highest type of gentleman, he should do nothing that could be construed as an endeavor to take advantage of the consideration to which that act might seem to entitle him. Bound and buried in the deepest dungeon, waiting only for the announcement from his of the day of his execution. This was his mental attitude as the months passed and he began to receive an occasional letter from Mr. West, in each of which he looked for the news of Adelaide's marriage.

In Mrs. Johnston a feeling of hatred had developed for Adelaide. She was certain that she had marred the happiness of her son. The heartlessness of a flirt who could trifle with the affection of one who had a right to assume in her an honor equal to his own deserved only to be hated with even righteous hatred. She saw the scrawled note which she knew Percy had not seen, but what did it signify? An eccentric old lady's penchant for match making? Perhaps she was even more guilty than the girl in attempting to lead Percy to see in Adelaide more than he ought. She might even take an old flirt's delight in the mere number of conquests made by her granddaughter. Or was the scrawled note slipped into the envelope by a prank- playing fourteen-year-old brother? In any case was it wise that Percy should see the note? She could probably do nothing better than to leave it with the letter. Even if the girl were worthy, Percy could never hope to win one of her class, whose pride of ancestry is their bread of life. It might not have been quite so, perhaps, if Percy had only selected some more respected profession. Why should not he have become a college professor?



CHAPTER XXXVI

HARD TIMES



WHEN Percy and his mother reached Poorland Farm in March they found a small frame house needing only shingles, paint, and paper to make it a fairly comfortable home, until they should be able to add such conveniences as Percy knew could be installed in the country as well as in the city. From the sale of corn and some other produce they were able to add to the residue of $1,840, which represented the difference between the cost of three hundred and twenty acres in Egypt and the selling price of forty acres in the corn belt. An even $3,000 was left in the savings bank at Winterbine.

"If we can live," said Percy, "just as the other 'Egyptians' must live, and save our $3,000 for limestone and phosphate, I believe we shall win out. Through the efforts of the Agricultural College and the Governor of the State the convicts in the Southern Illinois Penitentiary have been put to quarrying stone, and large crushers and grinders have been installed, and the State Board of Prison Industries is already beginning to ship ground limestone direct to farmers at sixty cents a ton in bulk in box cars. The entire Illinois Freight Association gave an audience to the Warden of the Penitentiary and representatives from the Agricultural College and a uniform freight rate has been granted of one-half cent per ton per mile. This will enable us to secure ground limestone delivered at Heart-of-Egypt for $1.22-1/2 per ton.

"Now, to apply five tons per acre on two hundred and forty acres will require one thousand two hundred tons and that will cost us $1,570 in cash, less perhaps the $70, which we save on roads and the untreated check strips which I want to leave. To apply one ton of phosphate per acre to the same six fields will cost about $1,600. Of course, I shall not begin to apply phosphate until after I have applied the limestone and get some clover or manure to mix with the phosphate when I plow it under; and I hope with the help of the limestone we shall get some clover and some increase in the other crops. In any case the $3,000 and interest we will get for what we can leave in the bank during the six or eight years it will take to get the rotation and treatment under way will pay for the initial cost of the first applications of both limestone and phosphate; and we shall hope that by that time the farm will bring us something more than a living."

The carload of effects shipped from Winterbine to Heart-of-Egypt included two horses, a cow, a few breeding hogs, and some chickens; also a supply of corn and oats sufficient for the summer's feed grain.

After the expenses of shipping were paid, less than $350 were deposited in the bank at the County Seat. Of this $250 were used for the purchase of another team. Hay was bought from a neighbor and some old hay that had been discarded by the balers, who had purchased, baled, and sold the previous hay crop from Poorland Farm, Percy gathered up and saved for bedding.

He plowed forty acres of the land that had not been cropped for five years, and, after some serious delays on account of wet weather, planted the field in corn, using the Champion White Pearl variety, be cause the Experiment Station had found it to be one of the best varieties for poor land.

"I wouldn't plant that corn if you would give me the seed," a neighbor had said to him. "See how big the cob is; and the tip is not well filled out, and there is too much space between the rows. I tell you there's too much cob in it for me. I want to raise corn and not corn cob."

"It certainly is not a good show ear," said Percy, "but what I want most is bushels of shelled corn per acre. Perhaps these big kernels will help to give the young plant a good start, and perhaps the piece of cob extending from the tip will make room for more kernels if the soil can be built up so as to furnish the plant food to make them. The cob is large but it is covered with grains all the way around; and, if those kernels of corn were putty, we could mash them down a little and have less space between the rows, but it would make no more corn on the ear. However, my chief reason for planting the Champion White Pearl is that this variety has produced more shelled corn per acre than any other in the University experiments on the gray prairie soil of 'Egypt.'"

There were only sixteen acres of corn grown on the entire farm in 1903 and this yielded thirteen bushels per acre, as Percy learned from the share of the crop received by the previous landowner.

In 1904 the Champion White Pearl yielded twenty bushels per acre, as nearly as could be determined by weighing the corn from a few shocks on a small truck scale Percy had brought from the north. He numbered his six forty-acre fields from one to six. Forty No. 7 was occupied by twelve acres of apple orchard, eight acres of pasture, and twenty acres of old meadow. By getting eighty rods of fencing it was possible to include twenty-eight acres in the pasture, although one hundred and ninety-two rods of fencing had been required to surround the eight-acre pasture. The remainder of the farm was in patches, including about fifteen acres on one corner crossed by a little valley and covered with trees, a tract which Percy and his mother treasured above any of the forty-acre fields. While the week was always filled with work, there were many hours of real pleasure found in the wood's pasture on the Sunday afternoons.

Forty No. I was left to "lie out," and No. 2 raised only twelve acres of cowpeas. No. 3 was plowed during the summer and seeded to timothy in the early fall. No. 4 was in corn and Nos. 5 and 6 were left in meadow, two patches of nine and sixteen acres previously in cowpeas and corn having been seeded to timothy in order, as Percy said, to "square out" the forty-acre fields. About fifty acres of land were cut over for about sixteen tons of hay. The corn was all put in shock, and the fodder as well as the grain used for feed, the refuse from the fodder and poor hay serving as bedding. About three tons of cowpea hay of excellent quality were secured from the twelve acres, and fifty barrels of apples were put in storage.

Another cow and eight calves were bought, and during the winter, some butter, two small bunches of the last spring's pigs, and the apple crop were sold. A few eggs had been sold almost every week since the previous March.

In 1905 No. 1 was rented for corn on shares and produced about six hundred bushels of which Percy received one-third. No. 2 yielded four hundred and eighty-four bushels of oats. No. 3 produced fourteen tons of poor hay. No. 4 was "rested" and prepared for wheat, ground limestone having been applied. No. 5 was fall-plowed from old meadow and well prepared and planted to corn in good time; but, after the second cultivation, heavy rains set in and continued until the corn was seriously damaged on the flat areas of the field, the more so as he had not fully understood the importance of keeping furrows open with outlets at the head-lands through which the excess surface water could pass off quickly under such weather conditions. Patches of the field aggregating at least five acres were so poorly surface drained that the corn was "drowned out," and fifteen acres more were so wet as to greatly injure the crop. However, on the better drained parts of the field where the corn was given further cultivation the yield was good and about 1,000 bushels of sound corn were gathered from the forty acres.

A mixture of timothy, redtop and weeds was cut for hay on No. 6, the yield being better than half a ton per acre.

The apples were a fair crop, and the total sales from that crop amounted to $750, but about half of this had been expended for trimming and spraying the trees, a spraying outfit, barrels, picking, packing, freight and cold storage. A good bunch of hogs were sold.

Another year passed. Oats were grown on No. 1 and on part of No. 2, yielding eleven bushels per acre.

No. 3 yielded one-third of a ton of hay per acre.

Wheat was grown on No. 4, and clover, the first the land had known in many years, if ever, was seeded in the spring,—twenty acres of red clover and twenty of alsike.

The fifty-four acres of wheat, including fourteen acres on No. 2, yielded seven and one-half bushels per acre. Soy beans were planted on No. 5, but wet weather seriously interferred and only part of the field was cut for hay. Limestone was applied, but heavy continued rains prevented the seeding of wheat.

No. 6 produced about twenty-seven bushels per acre of corn.

Two lots of hogs were sold for about $800, and some young steers increased the receipts by nearly $100.

Mrs. Johnston continued to buy the groceries with eggs and butter; but it was necessary to buy some hay, and the labor bill was heavy.

No. 5 joined the twenty-eight acre pasture and on two other sides it joined neighbors' farms where line fences were up, and on the other side lay No. 4.

Percy was trying to get ready to pasture the clover on No. 4, and a mile of new fencing was required. The materials were bought and the fence built, and when finished it also completed the fencing required to enclose No. 5. The twenty-eight acre pasture was inadequate for sixteen head of cattle and the young stock was kept in a hired pasture. Unless he could produce more feed, Percy saw that the farm would soon be overstocked, for some colts were growing and eight cows were now giving milk.

His hope was in the clover, but as the fall came on the red clover was found to have failed almost completely, and the alsike was one-half a stand. As the red clover had been seeded on the unlimed strip there was no way of knowing whether the limestone had even benefited the alsike. The neighbors had "seen just as good clover without putting on any of that stuff."

There were no apples, but the spraying had cost as much as ever, and some team work had been hired.

Three years of the hardest work; limestone on two forties, but only twenty acres of poor clover on one and no wheat seeded on the other. The neighbors "knew the clover would winter kill." The bills for pasturing amounted to as much as the butter had brought; for the twenty-eight-acre pasture had been very poor. The feed for the cows for winter consisted of corn fodder, straw and poor hay, and not enough of that.

They had to do it—draw $150 from the Winterbine reserve, besides what had been used for limestone. Part of it must go for clover seed, for clover must be seeded before it could be grown. The small barn must also be enlarged, but with the least possible expense.

It was February. Wet snow, water, and almost bottomless mud covered the earth. With four horses on the wagon, Percy had worked nearly all day bringing in two "jags" of poor hay from the stack in the field. It was all the little mow would hold.

He had finished the chores late and came in with the milk.

"Put on some dry clothes and your new shoes," said his mother, "while I strain the milk and take up the supper. There is a letter on the table. I hardly see how the mail man gets along through these roads. They must be worse than George Rogers Clark found on his trip from Kaskaskia to Vincennes. They say his route passed across only a few miles from the present site of Heart-of-Egypt. I suppose the letter is from Mr. West."

Percy finished washing his hands, and opened the letter. Two cards fell to the table as he drew the letter from the envelope.

He picked up one of the cards, and read it aloud to his mother:

_Mr. and Mrs. Strongworth Barstow

_At home after March I, 1907

1422 College Avenue

Raleigh, N. C._

"With Grandma's Compliments," was penciled across the top of the card. Percy glanced at the other card and read the plain lines:

Announce the marriage of their daughter

Did his eyes blurr? He laid the one card over the other, scanned Mr. West's letter hurriedly, replaced it with the cards in the envelope, and laid the letter at his mother's plate.

Percy replaced his rubber boots with shoes, and his wet, heavy coat with a dry one.

"You remember the letter I had from the College?" he asked, as he took his seat at the table.

"Yes, I remember," she replied, "but the Institute was to begin to-day."

"I know," said Percy, "but Hoard and Terry both speak to-morrow,—Terry in the morning and the Governor in the afternoon, and they are the men the Professor especially wanted me to hear, if I could. I think I'll 'phone to Bronson's and ask Roscoe to come over and do the chores to-morrow noon. I can get back by nine to-morrow night."

"But, Dear, how in the world can you get to Olney to hear Mr. Terry speak to-morrow morning?"

"There is a train east about eight o'clock," he replied. "Of course the roads are too awful to think of driving to the station, especially since the mares ought not to be used much. I put four on the wagon to-day and tried to be as careful as possible but it does not seem right to use them. I can manage all right. I will get up a little early in the morning and get things in shape so I can leave here by daylight and I am sure I can make the B. & O. station by eight o'clock easily. I will wear my rubber boots and carry my shoes in a bundle. I can change at the depot and put my boots on again when I get back there at seven at night. If it clears up, I will have the moon to help coming home."

But, Percy, you do not mean to walk five miles and back through all this mud and water?"

"I wish you would not worry, Mother. There is grass along the sides most of the way, and I am used to the mud and water. I will spy out the best track as I go in the morning and just follow my own trail coming back."

"Then it is time we were asleep," replied the mother.



CHAPTER XXXVII

HARDER TIMES



THE State Superintendent of Farmers' Institutes called the meeting to order soon after Percy entered the Opera House at Olney about ten o'clock the next morning.

"Divine blessing will be invoked by Doctor T. E. Sisson, pastor of the First Methodist Church of Olney:"

"Oh, Thou, whose presence bright all space doth occupy and all motion guide, all life impart, we come this morning in the capacity of this Farmers' Institute to thank thee for Thy mercies and for Thy blessings, and to invoke Thy presence and Thy continued favor. As Thou with Thy presence hast surrounded all forms of creation and all stages of being with the providences of welfare and development and grace, so we pray, our Father, for guidance through the sessions of this institute, for the providences of Thy love and Thy wisdom divine as it reveals itself in the open field, in the orchard, in the garden, bringing forth those things which replenish the earth with food and fill the mouths of our hungry ones with bread.

"We thank Thee for this larger knowledge which has come to the minds of men, because they have been learning to study Thy works and to walk closer to Thee. Wilt Thou, Heavenly Father, continue to enlighten this body of men and women that are represented in this great field of the world's busy hive so that the starving millions of the world, now in our cities rioting for bread, and in the vast nations where they are crying for food, may be fed. We pray Thee, reveal such improvement of knowledge to these who are willing to get close to Thee to learn Thy secrets and know Thy wisdom, as that unto all shall be given plenty, for replenishing our physical needs. And help us to know, our Father, as we learn Thy will and seek to do Thy will and live in the higher courts of knowledge and wider circles of thought, so shall God reveal himself unto us.

"Our Father, we thank Thee for all the developments and great sources of utility that come through the means of this institute in the development of the resources of this country, this great State and adjoining states through the length and breadth of this favored nation. We pray, Heavenly Father, while studying all these replenishments and seeking to defend them from the inroads of evil, of the rust and the mildew and the worm, we pray also for the beautiful homes, for the souls of the children given to our homes, that we may study their mental and spiritual being in such a way as shall keep all harm and evil and wrong from this life of ours, and so to work in the field of Thy providences, revealed in hand and mind and heart and relationships, of school and church and state and farm, and all the activities of this life's great work, as that good shall be our inheritance.

"We pray Thee, Heavenly Father, to be with the officers of this institute. Give Thy strength, Thy presence, and Thy discernment to these who participate in the work, the membership and onlookers, and those who come to learn. We pray Thee, give us the revelation of Thy wisdom to replenish and build up every human family, and to Thee all praise shall be given to-day for this blessing and for Thy continued favor; and not only to-day but to-morrow and the day after and through all eternity the praise shall be Thine, in the name of Him who came into this world to give us the life of the knowledge of God. Amen."

"It may be," said the Chairman, "that a State Farmers' Institute sometimes exercises a little arbitrary power in selecting subjects we want to speak of. I think county institutes might adopt the same plan to advantage, and assign the topic they wish discussed.

"The topic assigned our speaker to-day is 'What I did and how I did it.' It may sound egotistical, but I want to relieve the speaker of that imputation, because the subject was selected by the Institute.

"Allow me to present Mr. Terry, who needs no introduction to an audience of American farmers:"

Mr. Terry began to speak:

"Thirty-six years ago last fall," he said, "my wife and I bought and moved onto the farm where we now reside. We went on there in debt $3,700, on which we had to pay seven per cent. interest. I had one horse, an old one, and it had the heaves, a one-horse harness, and a one-horse wagon, three tillage implements, and nine cows that were paid for; and a wife and two babies, but no money. Now that was the condition in which we started on this farm, thirty-six years ago, in debt heavily, and no money; but that is not the worst of it. If it had been as good soil as you have in some parts of this State, we should have been all right. How about the soil? For sixty years farmers had been running it down until it could scarcely produce anything. We had a tenant on the place one year, before we could arrange to move on, after we got it. They got eight bushels of wheat per acre, and he said to me, 'That is a pretty good yield, don't you think, for this old farm?' Oh, friends, I didn't think so;—never ought to have bought this farm;—didn't know any better,—born and brought up in town, my father a minister, and I thought a farm was a farm. But I learned some things after awhile. That tenant mowed over probably forty acres of land. (We originally bought one hundred and twenty-five.) He put the hay in the barn. It measured twelve tons. Half of that was weeds. Most of the hay he cut down in a swale. There wasn't anything worth considering on the upland. That was the condition of the land.

"How about the buildings? The house had been used about sixty years, an old story-and-a-half house. Dilapidated, oh, my! Every time the rain came, we had to take every pan upstairs and set it to catch the water. We did not have any money to put on more shingles. It was out of the question, we couldn't do it. How about the dooryard? It was a cow yard. They used it for a milking yard, for years and years. You can imagine how it looked. The barn was in such condition that cattle were just as well off outdoors as in. The roof leaked terribly. The tenants had burned up the doors and any boards they could take off easily. They were too lazy to take off any that came off hard. They burned all the fences in reach.

"Now friends, that was the farm we moved onto and the condition it was in. Some of you will know we saw some pretty hard times for a while. Time and again I was obliged to take my team, after we got two horses (the second I borrowed of a relative, it was the only way I could get one), and go to town to do some little job hauling to get some money to get something to eat. That is the way we started farming. I remember, after three or four years, meeting Dr. W. I. Chamberlain. Some of you know him. He said: 'Terry, if you should get a new hat, there wouldn't anybody know you. Your clothes wear like the children of Israel's.' They had to wear. No one knew how hard up we were. It was not best to let them know. That money was borrowed of a friend in Detroit, secured on a life insurance policy. We did not let anybody know how hard up we really were. My wife rode to town (to church when she went), in the same wagon we hauled out manure in, for a time. Time and again she had been to town when she said she could not do without something any longer and came back without it. Credit was good. We could have bought it. We didn't dare to.

"Now, friends, a dozen years from the time we started on that farm, under these circumstances, we were getting from one hundred and fifty to two hundred and fifty bushels of merchantable potatoes per acre right along—not a single year, but on the average—varying, of course, somewhat with the season. We were getting from four to five tons of clover hay in a season, from two cuttings, of course, per acre. We were getting from thirty-three to thirty-eight bushels of wheat per acre, not one year, but for five years we averaged thirty-five bushels per acre, and right on that same farm. No fertility had been brought on to it, practically, from the outside. A man without any money, in debt for the land $3,700, was able to do this. Now, how did he do it? That is the question I have been asked to talk upon. I have told you briefly something like what we have accomplished. I might say, further, the old house I told you that we lived in for fourteen years while we were building up the fertility of this soil, we sold for $10, after we got through with it. It is now a horse barn on the farm of our next neighbor and has been covered over.

"Eleven years from the time we started we paid the last $500 of our debt, all dug out of that farm, not $25 from any other source. Thirteen years from the time we started, we carried off the first prize of $50 offered by the State Board of Agriculture of Ohio, for the best detailed report of the best and most profitably managed small farm in the state,—only thirteen years from the time we started on that rundown land, and no fertility brought from the outside; without any money; and meanwhile we had to live.

"Now I had arranged with the tenant the first year, before we went on there, to seed down a certain field. It had been under the plow for some time. I wanted it seeded so I could have some land to mow and he seeded half of it. It was only a little lot, about five acres. He seeded half with timothy and left the other half. That was his way of doing things, anyway. When we moved onto the farm later I naturally wanted to finish that seeding and get that field in some sort of shape for mowing. I went to my next neighbor, who lives there yet, and asked him what I had better use. I didn't know anything, practitically, about farming, and he advised me to try some clover seed. He said: 'So far as I know, none was ever sown on that farm. They have sowed timothy everlastingly, everybody, because it is cheap. I knew timothy wouldn't grow there to amount to anything If I were in your place I would try some clover.'

"I got the land prepared and sowed that clover alone, so as to give it a chance. I did have sense enough to mow off the weeds when they got six or eight or ten inches high perhaps, so that the clover could have a little better chance to grow. It happened to be a very wet season. I remember that distinctly. This was a lot near to the barn. I suppose what little manure they had hauled out had been mostly put on this land. With these favoring conditions the result was fairly good. Of course not half what we got later, but we got quite a little clover and when I came to mow it, and to mow that timothy at the other end, I could see I could draw the rake two or three times as far in the timothy as in the clover. There was more clover on an acre. A load of timothy would go in and a load of clover. When I fed it to the cows in winter I noticed when feeding clover for a number of days they gave more milk. I didn't know why. I don't know as anybody knew why then. There wasn't an experiment station in the land. We were following our own notions. But the cows gave more milk; I could see that plainly.

"A little later I had an experiment forced on me by accident. I tell you just how it came about. It resulted in putting a good many thousands in our pockets and I hope millions in the pockets of the farmers of America. Later I wanted to plant corn on this field, and, as I wanted to grow just as good corn as I could, I got out what manure we saved and put it on the land preparing for plowing. I knew there wouldn't be more than half enough to go over the field. I said to myself, if there was any good corn, I would like it next to the road where people would see it. Wouldn't any of you do it? I didn't have a dollar to hire any help. I paid one dollar that year for help, and it was awful hard to get that dollar. I began spreading that manure next to the road. The back half of the field was nearly out of sight. When I got half way back there wasn't any manure left and the back half didn't get any. Now it so happened that the timothy was on the front end of the field, and it got the manure. The clover on the back half didn't get any. It came about in the simple way I told you of. Naturally I didn't expect much corn where I hadn't put any manure, but what was my surprise to find it was just about as good on that clover end of the field without any dressing as on the timothy end with what I had been able to put on. It is only right I should say there wasn't much of the manure It was poor in quality because we couldn't get grain for the cows when we couldn't get enough for ourselves to eat. There wasn't much manure and it was pretty poor, but such as it was that was the result. More hay to the acre, better hay, increased fertility, some way, by growing this clover!

"Now let us go back a little. I think it was the second spring after we moved onto the place that I happened to be crossing the farm of my next neighbor, Mr. Holcombe, now dead. I found him plowing. He had been around a piece of land, I should judge five acres, half a dozen times. He was sitting on the plow, tired out,—too old to work anyway. He said, 'I wish you would take this land and put in some crop on the shares; I want to get rid of the work; I can't do it, and would like to let you have it in some way. All I want is that it should be left so I can seed it down in the fall again.'

"It was an old piece of sod he had mowed in the old eastern way until it wouldn't grow anything any longer. I don't suppose he got a quarter of a ton of hay to the acre. He wanted it plowed so he could re-seed it. I didn't know the value of the land, but, foolishly perhaps, as most people thought, offered him five dollars an acre for the use of it. I hadn't enough to do at home. I didn't have my land in shape so I could do much. We were working along as fast as we could. I thought I could do well if I had this job, and could perhaps make something off it. He agreed to it.

"I went home and got my team and plow, and finished the plowing. I remember making those furrows narrow and turning the ground well, a little deeper than it had been plowed before. I didn't realize what I was doing, then. I simply had been brought up to do my work well. I thought I was doing a good job, that was all. When I was through plowing I got my old harrow, a spike-tooth, and harrowed the ground. I had a roller. They were manufactured in our town. The firm bursted and I had a chance to buy one very cheap. I had a roller, harrow, and plow. That was all the tillage implements. The harrow had moved the lumps around a little. I ran the roller over the lumps; then harrowed, rolled, and harrowed. When the harrow would not take hold, I put a plank across and rode on it. I worked that land alternately until I had the surface as fine and nice as I could make it, two or three inches deep. The harrow would not take hold any longer and I had to quit. By and by a rain came. I didn't know anything about how to till land,—this spring fallow business—but I happened to hit it right. After it rained, I said that harrow will take hold better now. I loaded the harrow and got on it, and tore that ground up three or four inches deep.

"The harrow teeth were sharp. I harrowed and rolled it and my neighbor said, 'Terry, you are ruining that land, it will never grow anything any more, it will all blow away.' I reminded him of his bargain; I should raise what I pleased and take the crop home. Every little while, I can't remember how often, I would go over and harrow and roll that land. I probably plowed it the first week in April. For two months that was a sort of savings bank for my work. I would run over and work that land, occasionally, until, about the first week in June, I had it prepared just as mellow and fine and nice as it was possible to make it. It was nice enough for flower seeds."

"I builded better then than I knew. I had no idea what the result was going to be. When it was all ready, I sowed Hungarian grass seed. I wish you could have seen the crop. It grew four and a half or five feet high, as thick as it could stand on the land. I believe if I had thrown my straw hat, it would have staid on the top. It was enormous for that land. I had four big loads to the acre. You know what you can put on a load of Hungarian. When I went by the owner's house with those loads and took them to our barn, he was out there and he looked awfully sour. That man, to my knowledge, had never grown half as much to the acre since I had known of his being on the land, probably never more than one-third as much. Old run-out timothy sod; no manure, no fertilizer, nothing but the work,—this spring fallowing. I enjoyed the matter more, because he had told some of the neighbors he had got the start of that town fellow; I would never see five dollars an acre back, out of the land. That was his opinion of what I could raise.

"Hay was hay that fall, after a dry season. We live in a dairy section. The cows were there and had to be fed. I got $18 a ton for that hay in our barn, something like $70 per acre. I think the laugh was on the other side. That was my first awakening, along this line of tillage. Didn't know how it came about, didn't know anything about the fertility locked up in the soil, just the plain facts. I did so and so, and got such and such results. The next year Charlie Harlow, still living there, said, 'I wish you would put in some Hungarian for me this spring.' I said, 'What part of the crop?—I should want two-thirds.' He said he had an offer for half. I said, 'Then let him have it.' He replied, 'One-third of what you will raise is more than half of what he will raise.' He saw what I did on his brother-in-law's farm.

"The following year I had a piece of land ready to grow corn, I had cleared out the stumps and done the best I could to get it in shape. I plowed it just as soon as the ground was dry enough, about the first of April, that is. I worked it every little while just as nearly as I could as the Hungarian land had been worked, I harrowed and rolled, let it rest a while, then harrowed and rolled. I kept it up until my next door neighbor, Mr. Croy, had planted his corn, and it was four inches high and growing pretty well. Ours wasn't planted. A neighbor came and said, 'I am sorry for you, Terry, you don't know what you are about. You are fooling away your time. Your corn ought to have been in before this.' I was harrowing and rolling. I was determined to see whether I could do it over again. Some of the neighbors said it couldn't be done again.

"The fourth or fifth of June—too late, ordinarily, to plant corn with us—I put in the crop. I wish you could have seen it grow! It came up and grew from the word 'Go.' In four weeks it was ahead of any corn about. It went ahead of my neighbor's corn that was three or four inches high when ours was planted. We had a crop that, the farm in the condition that it was, was considered as something remarkable. They couldn't account for it, neither could I. All I knew was I had been working the ground so and so and getting such and such results.

"Let us go back once more. The first year that I moved onto that farm, the first fall, we had nine cows, and I wanted to save all of the manure. Now, there wasn't an experimental station in the land. I didn't know anything about the potassium or nitrogen in the liquid manure, but I had seen where it dropped on the land and how the grass grew. I thought it was plant food, and our land was hungry. I said, I must try and save this manure, and not have it wasted. I hadn't a dollar. What did I do? There was an old stable there that would hold ten cows. It was in terrible shape. It had a plank floor that was all broken. I tore it out. I hauled some blue clay. I filled the stable four or five inches deep with the blue clay, wet it, pounded it down, shaped it off and got it level, fixed it up around the sides, saucer shape, so it would hold water. Then I laid down some old boards (I couldn't buy new ones), and put in a lot of straw there and put my cows in. I saved all that manure the first year, all that liquid. I had twice as much, probably more, from the same number of cows as had been saved on that farm before, and it was much more valuable. That was the beginning the first winter, when I hadn't anything.

"For the horse stable I went to town and found some old billboards. It was new lumber, but had been used for billboards. After the circus the owner offered to sell the boards cheap, and to trust me. He was a carpenter, and he jointed them. We put them crosswise on the old plank floor, and when they got wet they swelled and became practically water tight. I even crawled under and saw that there was no liquid manure dropping down there. I drew sawdust and used for bedding. I saved the liquid of the horse stable. I didn't know it was worth three times as much, pound for pound, as the solid. I didn't know it was worth two times as much in the cow stable, pound for pound, as the solid. I found it out by experience.

"Now, when I was in town, before going on this farm, I worked for S. Straight & Son, the then great cheese and butter kings of the Western Reserve. I was getting over a thousand dollars a year in their office. They didn't want me to leave at all, but my wife and I took a notion to be independent, to work for ourselves, and we bought this old farm. We had a chance to work for ourselves, all right. The first year we worked from early in the morning until nine or ten o'clock at night, and then we tumbled into bed, too tired to think, to get up and do it over again. I worked in the field, taking out stumps and doing something, as long as I could see, and then helped my wife to milk. We would get our supper along about nine or ten o'clock. At the end of the year we had not one single dollar, after paying our interest and taxes,—not one dollar to show for our work. Do you wonder we were pretty discouraged?

"I met Mr. Straight one day. He said: 'Terry, things are not going very well in the office since you left. I wish you would come back. You are not doing much over on that farm that I can see. You are having a hard time. I will gladly give you $1,200 a year if you will come back into our office.' It was a great temptation. Think what it meant. To move back to town and have $100 a month. But I said, 'No, Mr. Straight; I can't do it.' I don't deserve any credit for it, friends: but I wasn't built that way. I can't back out. When I undertake anything I have got to go through. I would have been willing enough to leave that farm, if I had made a success of it, after I made a success of it, as I thought then; but I wasn't willing to give up, whipped—to acknowledge that I had undertaken that job and had to back out and go back to town to make a living.

"Some little incident sometimes will change the whole character of a man's life. I remember, when we were in very hard conditions, we were sitting under an apple tree in our door yard one evening. It is there yet. Two men from town went by. One of them said to the other, 'What is Terry going to do?' The other said, 'If Terry sticks to it he will make something out of that old farm.' Just as quick as a flash, friends, I said, 'Terry will stick to it.'