335 Am 33s AMER INGER SOCIALISM FOR THE FARMER WHO FARMS THE FARM Return this book on or before the Latest Date stamped below. 4 '-' V, 1 ^ PWCE |0c < V • Socialism For The Farmer WHO FARMS THE FARM 'h;: 4 > %$, ; By OSCAR AMERINGER, ^ Author of “SOCIALISM, WHAT IT IS AND HOW TO GET IT,” “LIFE AND DEEDS OF ? UNCLE SAM; A LITTLE HISTORY FOR BIG CHILDREN' ss • - x , * , * • ** > X - r -?■* :l?i Oscar ■>“»' a* M te , M'- Amednget's Italy M'do , ppt , r ,„ . ITT- » •*«« ***h j !Tm T V E “W V. Debs, W. S. J most brilliant staff of writers 1 m the English-speaking world ^ *« •organ . « : ■VdJJr tarfS'mT*’ “ 1904 ' “ d ■»< ... ft. »»ft.?w.*:TtrwL“ :rr r Wr ,b ™ th ^ « ..tafaion., IV Bit”"' W °" tin * ’ ten in language for the average reader! ’ **{ four f INTRODUCTION. 3 33 7 ^ This booklet is written for the farmer who farms the > farm. That is. the actual tiller of the soil. The man who works eight hours in the morning and eight in the afternoon that mankind may be fed and clothed. The Socialist move- ment is not concerned with the farmer who farms the farmer. There are lawyers, doctors, bankers and merchants who own farms Then there are the retired farmers who moved to town to die and then forgot why they moved to town. All these people are no farmers hut exploiters of labor. They live o the farmer who farms the farm. They are parasites as much as our idle rich, only on a smaller scale. The author has often been asked, “After a man has worked hard all his life and saved his money and bought a farm to have something to live on in his old age, would you Socialists take it away from him?” To this question we . answer: “If that farmer had received the full product of his : labor during his producing years he could retire to well-earned rest on the accumulations of his own labor. As it is, he lives on the fruit of some one else’s labor.” We also may as in return, “If a man worked hard all his life on a rented farm and paid one-third or one-half of the crop to the landlord what are you going to do with him after he becomes too old to work?” We may add further that we don’t expect the beneficial ies • of the capitalist system to voluntarily relinquish their soft snap. In fact they would be very foolish in doing this, especially so . since the victims of the system are still willing to support it - with their votes. So we say to the farmer who farms the far- . mer, “personally we do not blame you for exploiting the renter any more than we blame the chicken for eating worms or the hawk for devouring the chickens. As long as the landless who even now are in the over-whelming majority are willing to pay you for the use of God’s earth, you would be a foo not to take all you can. Only we want to serve notice that ' some day the majority will wake up and then you 11 join the % one time highly respected Robber Barons and the Feudal : Lords.” i Socialism for the Farmer o„ fo THE SAD STORY OF the slamericans ica it l fT 3 6 th6re Was a great islan d named Slamer left ^ ° D the mericans Th . , ' inhabitants called themselves Sla- not 1 N ° W ‘l 80 happened ‘hat the Slamerican food raisers could ' , hen ® ver a food raiser wanted clothing to cover his :tz:; w °oti fetc !? p p is to the ° wner ° f the bridge apd tain 0 l tlT Wheel ;ehold ° h 0t ’ L ° rd ° f Sp ° ndulix Cap ' him The OC ,t , 1 ’ b h old thy servant and take pity upon of m v my breeches has gone to naught and the seam of my garment has frazzled to frazzles Mv tin through the sleeves and cry for covering Might LH porker tbat 1 the plunks.” 1 ” PnCe ° f PISS iS flVe Dhlnks t °- da >'’- h ere are pended upon the children of my own bosom. Five plunks' oh! my eyes! Five plunk-have mercy upon me!” plunkst htfat paw. Sm ° Ie ” S " ile ^ th « Sl1 ™ While the food raiser thus wailed and wept a chillv tCgh “* crawled through thP hZZ 71 S n tne n ° rth pole and crawled garment. ” Ve P ' UnkS - ™ me have a 3 “Go easy,” replied Ploot, “I am not in business for the fun of it. This bridge cost oodles of spondulix. Am I not entitled to a reward for my abstinence for not having eaten this bridge? Besides the land on which these pillars rest be- longs to me and surely I ought to have some rent for the use of it. Then too I must have a little profit on my investment in this clothing stock. Therefore go hence and fetch me three more pigs. “One for interest, “One for rent, and, “One for profit.” The food raiser departed with a sorely puzzled mind to do as he was told. From the other side of the river approached a garment maker with a new suit of clothes slung over his arm. As soon as he spied the 'fat man on the bridge he cried, “My stomach is as empty as a summer resort in January. It growls until the echoes reverberate on the walls. Have mercy upon me and give me a porker to still the voice in my innards. O! mighty Ploot, take this garment and give me food.” Thereupon the Ploot handed to the garment maker five plunks and bade him to return and fetch three more garments. The poor worker looked flabbergasted at this, but Ploot only said : “One for interest, “One for rent, and “One for profit.” The garment man was too hungry to argue the case, so he took himself hence to do as he was told. When the food raiser and garment worker returned next day, the one with three pigs and the other with three suits of clothes, Ploot gave each one fifteen shining plunks. Then he sold the pig to the hungry tailor for twenty plunks and the suit of clothing to the shivering food raiser for the same sum. These were prosperous times 'and business was brisk. The two workers had earned twenty plunks apiece. One de- parted with a pig, and the other with a new suit. Both were happy and so was Ploot, for he had not only gotten all his money back but three suits of clothes and three pigs in the bargain. All the Slamericans went through the same transaction every time they needed food and clothing and so it happened that Ploot often got more than he could eat or wear. At such times he would lock the gates to the bridge and hang out a sign saying, “Closed on account of over production.” But the 4 great and wise ones among the Slamericans called it a panic and explained to the people that over production of food was the prime cause of starvation, while too much cloth- ing was the cause of the nakedness in the world. One day a crank came among these people and said, Let us build a bridge of our own and do away with Ploot who charges us interest for money he took away from us, who makes us pay rent for land which the Creator made for all, and who demands of us profit for being in our way. With a bridge of our own we can exchange pig for garment and gar- ment for pig instead of paying four pigs for one garment and four garments for one pig.” When Ploot heard this he called the Slamericans together and spake: “Harken unto me. This man would drive capital out of ,the country. Do I not give you work? By allowing you to make four suits for one pig and to laise four pigs for one suit, do I not give employment to you, your wife and children? If, as this agitator saith, a pig could be swapped for a suit and a suit for a pig, then you would be out of work three-fourths of the time. Does not the holy book say, “in the sweat of thy brow thou shalt eat bread?” Who gives you an opportunity to sweat? It’s me. This man would rob you of the incentive to work. He would destroy the Gods and steal your wives. Stone him, hang him!” And when the people heard Ploot say all this they tied a millstone around the neck of the crank and sunk him to the bottom of the river. TWO MEN SKINNED ALIVE. Brother farmer, do you recognize yourself in this picture? Maybe not, but the capitalist system works, and works you, exactly like it. Only it’s more complicated. But have you ever noticed that when you haul wheat, corn or cotton to town you never say to the buyer, “I want so much.” You always say, How much will you pay?” And when you buy goods in the store, you don’t say, “I give so much,” but you inquire, “How much does it cost?” You do not set the price of the things you sell, or the price of the things you buy. And since the people to whom you sell and from whom you buy are in the business for profit they pay you as little as they can and charge you as much as you can stand. Did you ever take a drove of hogs to town and then eat store cheese and crackers for dinner because you did not feel that you could afford a pork chop in the “short order” res- taurant? Did you ever escort a carload of export steers to Chicago and then eat oxtail soup and beef tongue in the cheapest hash 5 joint in Packingtown just to make both ends “meat?” Did you ever haul a ton of sugar beets to the refinery and your wife hauled the sugar she bought with the six dollars you received for the ton of 15 per cent beets home under the buggy seat? Did you ever sell a barrel of apples for one dollar and then throw a double decked fit when the “news butch” on the “Cannon Ball” soaks you a nickel apiece? Did you ever sell a heifer, horn, hoof, hide and tallow and all and then buy back the tanned hide for more money than you got for the whole beast? Most likely you did and blamed it on the tariff, or the gold standard or those pesky “Labor union fellers” in town who do nothing but strike for more wages and who make the price of every blamed thing go clear out of sight. But you’re wrong. It’s not the tariff or the gold standard or the Labor Unions that cause the trouble. It’s the capitalist system. It’s the man on ,the bridge between you and the city laborer. That fellow pays you for a basket of grapes two cents, while the worker in town is soaked 40 cents for the same. That’s an increase of 2000 per cent. Now you understand why that City worker howls for more wages. The buyers pay 35 cents for potatoes in Waupacca, Wis., and the people of Milwaukee, only a hundred miles away, pay $1.50. This is an increase of 300 per cent of which only about 30 per cent went to freight and handling. The farmer feeds the calf until it has grown into a cow. Then he feeds the cow, milks the cow, hauls the milk to the station and pays the freight to the city. For all this he gets four cents a quart. While the milk company for delivering the milk from the depot to the consumer gets an equal amount. Asparagus; price paid to the farmer 8c; cost in the city 35c; an increase of 400 per cent. Tomatoes $2.00 for a 24 pound crate or 8c per pound; cost in the city 25c per pound; advance 300 per cent. Wheat, for which the farmer received one dollar per bushel, when converted into breakfast cereal, sells for 15 cents per pound or $9.00 per bushel, and the steer for which the farmer received $55.00 on the hoof, figured on the basis of prices paid in swell restaurants, runs up to about $2000. That is, the city man pays as much for the steer as the farm on which he was raised is mortgaged for. 6 Yes, brother Farmer, you sell cheap enough and the city man pays high enough, but the benefit of high prices for farm products in the city go not to you and the low cost of c.ty man The dT® C ° UntlT ° f n ° earthly beneflt to city man. The difference is swallowed up by the numerous fat ' consumer" 6 Btand betwe - Producer a* Since t-he farmer bat no control over the price of his products his income is determined by people who have all r P rr in the woHd *° see hsm - — wnh :;i2 WAGES OF THE FARMERS Why don’t people go back to the soil? Why do thev back S to ln th 1VinS 'I Crowded ’ noisy tenements instead of going back to the country where they can hear the song at the water? W ’ ’“h*' 6 G ° d ’ S fr6Sh air and drlnk fresh spring _ „. Well 1 ’ ! here is nothin S wrong with the warble of the in the ci Y Fresh air and good water are plentiful enough in the country, and if farmers could exchange the notes of the meadow lark with the notes held by the bankers or buy ultivators and manure spreaders with hunks of fresh air or sw f ia 0001 Sprins Water ’ life in the country would be one the h a ? nS ' BUt the faCt ‘ S tbe farmer hoIds a monopoly on the hardest way of making a living ever invented He works longer hours than the city worker and gets less pay People ho are continually harping about the desirability of life on Uncle sL. may d ° WeU *° StUdy the flSUreS oomPiiod by Farm incomes. Under $250.00 per year . o-, Q ^ From $250.00 to $500 per vear den * From $500.00 to $1000 per vear Ill £ 6r Cen ‘ From $1000.00 to $250 0 P per^ar' .' ! .' ! ! .Ils Z Zt Out of this princely income the farmer pays taxes, in- terest, insurance, pays for fertilizers, machinery, tools, repairs fs «o n oo oY aS ! ° f tte 17 PCT C6nt ° f farms where the income is $1000.00 and over, a goodly amount goes in wages for farm hands. From these figures it may easily be seen that the farmer is even closer to the minimum of subsistence than the wage worker. Says A. M. Simons in his very able book, “The American armer:” “When it comes to amount of income, all author- ities agree that the farmers and the wage workers are alike in receiving little more than a subsistence wage.” Prof. C. P. Walker in a discussion before the American Economic Asso- : ciation made the following statement: “By using all available statistics, it becomes evident that, deducting rent and interest, the American farmer receives less for his exertion than does the laborer in factory or the hired man on the farm.” Prof. L. B. Bailey of the Department of Agriculture in Cornell University, and one of the foremost authorities on agriculture in this country, declared that *the “$200.00 a year income farmer is the ideal in American farming.” Geo*. G. Holmes, Assistant Statistician of the United States Department of Agriculture, in an analysis of the statistics for 1891, gives as his conclusion: “It appears that if you allow interest to the farmers on the farm capital, they earn substantially no wages. On the other hand, if you allow them no interest, they receive $22.61 per month as wages.” This gives a farmer a chance to feel either as a capitalist or as a wageworker. As a capitalist he gets $22.61 per month interest on his investment and works for nothing; while as a wage worker he loses the interest on his money and gets $22.61 per month wages. So we see that as far as incomes »are con- cerned wage workers and farmers find themselves in the same boat. And the reason that neither of them gets much more or less than is necessary to keep themselves in working condition and to raise a new crop of workers is that neither the wage worker or the farmer own the implements of production. The process by which the workers become separated from the means of production will be explained in the next chapter. It will be rather dry reading, but people who get skinned ought to know at least how it is done. Finding out the reason why after all is not nearly as painful as the skinning process itself. THE DECAY OF PRIVATE PROPERTY. Within the last century a great change has taken place in the relation of men to property. A hundred years ago nearly every craftsman owned the tools with which he worked. Production was carried on privately and the private ownership of the tool insured to the user the product of his labor. This relationship although just from the viewpoint of distribution, because it gave to the owner the product of his toil, was in- ferior as a means of production to the system which replaced it. As the tool was merged into the machine and the machine into the great factory, there evolved a wonderful organism, operated by many laborers working together, that is, co-opera- tively. But while we developed co-operative or social produc- tion, we still retained the private ownership of the means of 8 r h -:ro he T ::;rrL k To r r ,d ; not c ~ ^ « employment in the factory The m»!l ** Sh ° P and accel by one man,, or at least bv „ l t ^ Can be owne operated by many Thos^ W h ^ fGW people ’ but must b machinery "an “hose t 0 ho u W s h e 0 it 0 7o Tt ***' *° ^ about the senaration w„ * d own lt T bus cam division of modern socLn -l 7*7^ ^ Iabor aad th on the one side and workers on thTotC Camps - capitaI -< The instrum^nfoT'lah ** h n ° W Carried on for Private profil The product of the ° ! eXploitati °» this owner is a WAvirino- Soes to its owner, bu dividend-chasing capitalist”" 11 ' If l0nger ’ but a cou Pon-clippi n g invested' "rZ'T °‘ r s series. He not onlv in«t a Iong and complicated trade itself and he becomes ' mT a ^ trad ®' bUt ° ften the owning class. 6 and more dependent on the «^i:sr,r.ro rr^r:;-,riirs u “ r ’ rr, ss? -f ■ “ ■ amount of money reouirc i t 1 Product, but by the The dissolution of the nt u P h ‘ m iP W ° rking oondition . transformation is but thA hiVfu • * * But thls P ainf ul bi S b plane t= t=^r^d^n hi - “ ‘ wbe^^stzfrtn the - a -** THE OLD FARM. finoi neip and the women prepared it for zzrszzsizrjxzz s.*™ 9 made sugar, packed pork, dried beef, wove cloth and made clothing. What little furniture and implements they had were usually home made. The blacksmith, the miller and the shoe cobbler were about the only artisans called upon outside the homeland these were usually paid in produce instead of in money. If there was a house to be erected they called upon the neighbors for help, and the old time “log raising” was re- garded in the light of a holiday. Tobacco was raised, cured and smoked by the men folks on the place. Corn was easily transformed into whiskey and still easier consumed. If there was a bigger corn crop than the family could harvest, a husk- ing bee was arranged, followed by a dance of the young folks on the barn floor. Grandfather had few luxuries, but he made a living and raised a dozen or so of children. He was economically and politically a free man. Being, dependent on none he did not care a continental who knew when he voted for “Tippecanoe and Tyler too.” The cradle of American democracy stood on the inde- pendent farm of the first half of the last century. Free soil and freedom cannot be separated, economic independence and political liberty go ever hand in hand. The invention of the power loom made hand weaving unprofitable; the spinning wheel became a plaything for the children and the weaving industry moved to the towns. Soap factories making soap that floats and soap that sinks, soon relegated the soap kettle to the scrap pile. The oil refinery put an end to the candle mould. Armour absorbed the meat packing industry. Havemeyer assimilated the sugar making- business. The whiskey trust manufactured booze, and Duke, by discovering a process which makes alfalfa hay smell almost like tobacco, put an end to the Dog Leg and Granger Twist industry of the farmers. The farmer trade too, became decomposed and specialized. One industry after the other left the farm until the farmer finds himself a specialist, raising a few products, not for home consumption but for sale. THE MODERN FARM. As soon as the farmer produced for sale instead of for home use, his independence ceased and he became dependent upon the great and unknown market. Without organization to regulate production, with no knowledge as to how much of his products the market demanded, he produced blindly, 10 something for the'fruU ^ hTs^oTk’ S ° meb ° dy wouId W hin ' ganized ‘"T” d “ U Wlth “ n0r by the law of suddiv ami a , produc ' ts were determined in which iarm. products are e TreparerL Wh fi e nl the became trustified, a small and powerful cliauT ofT""^ 011 have food ^ f ~^ abl rt e ‘° raiSe Cr ° PS he income fall below t’he mnt where he' “Tk Sh ° Uld WS these necessities, he must cease to produce 8?” aCQUire the farmers completely the trusts would kill f 7 Paupemin S de? b6 Sa " tba ‘ - ate- . wksk No c H ° H „ ™ E FABMEB IS SKINNED, sumer ? Pr ° duced until B has reached the con- 11. bu, “S “™ “*'““»*• «« 1. it * 0 ^™^ farmer iS b ° th Pr ° ducer and consumer he gets Era r Sr- ~ a a sSSHS the pork industry gives to the owners of the hog a pr'e that 11 will feed and clothe the hog raiser while he raises the hog. Time has been when the price of hogs was set too low by the meat trust, then the half starved hog raisers quit raising hogs and the price had to be raised again to induce the farmers to return to the hog industry. Prices rise and prices fall, but on an average the farmer gets a bare living while the hog and pork manufacturers grow fat. THE CATTLEMAN. Tradition tells us that the cow man is the free born son of the boundless plain. A hale fellow well met, a happy-go- lucky kind of a chap. Independent — should say so; free man — no word for it. Now let us see how things stand with the cow man. A steer has no value as long as it is a steer. Cattle raised in Texas are converted into beef in Kansas City or Chicago, and consumed as porterhouse or soup meat in New York, Berlin or Paris, The ranch and the steer belong to the cattleman. To finish a steer for the market requires corn, and corn costs money. Like most farmers, the cow man is usually long on expectation and short on coin. So he borrows the money from the commission house at a more or less unreasonable rate of interest. To secure the commission house he mortgages the steers and agrees to deliver them at the stock yards any time the commission house may request it. He cannot take advan- tage, if there is such a thing, of a favorable market, but must deliver when told to. But let us assume that our free-born cattleman is inde- pendent of the commission house. He takes his cattle to the Kansas City Stockyards. This institution is controlled by the meat trust. Every morning the different firms composing this organization agree on the maximum price of cattle. Let us say this price is five cents per pound. There is still competition in the stock yard; every buyer tries to buy steers for less than five cents. It is a kind of Dutch auction, where the buyers beat the price down instead of up. If your cattleman does not want to accept the top notch price of five cents, he may keep his steer in the stock yards by paying certain reasonable charges. He also may purchase feed for his animals at a figure usually charged the two-legged cattle at the Waldorf-Astoria or the St. Regis. In a short time the cattle eat their heads off. Our freeborn son of the prairie may have to sell them for less than he was offered in the first place and pay the board bill besides. 12 If he refuses to sell at live cents per pound in Kansas City, he may reload his stock and ship it to the Chicago Stock Yards, belonging to the same trust, and sell them for a nickle per pound. By the time he has deducted feed bills and addi- 1 tional transportation charges, he can he glad that his cattle pass entitles him to a return trip home. The cattle man is only the owner of the first few links in the chain of production. The ownership of land and cattle does not prevent his exploitation by the Armours, Swifts and Sulzbergers, who own the packing houses and the market facilities. On his way to the consumer he finds his road blocked by the Capitalist owner of the greater means of pro- duction, who says, “Stand and deliver.” Sometimes cattle are high and sometimes low. Some cattlemen make money, others go into bankruptcy. But on an average the cow man receives enough for his stock to keep him alive and in working condition to raise more steers for the meat trust. PICKING THE COTTON PICKER. King Cotton, Queen Poverty, Prime Minister Hunger and Court Chaplain Ignorance rule the cotton states. Cotton is the devil’s own crop. It takes thirteen months out of the twelve and all the children out of school to raise a cotton crop. Raw cotton on the farm has no more value than ice on the North Pole. To prepare cotton for the consumer it must go through THE GIN, THE COMPRESS, over THE RAILROAD, through THE COTTON MILL THE CLOTHING FACTORY and THE STORE. The cotton raiser may be the proud owner of land, mules, implements, cotton bags, and children, but the cotton gin, the compress, the railroad, the cotton mill, the clothing factory and the store belong to Mr. Capitalist, and this gentleman sets the price of cotton and regulates the price of clothing. The result is that the cotton raiser’s family, who produce enough cotton in one season to clothe themselves for a life time, are forced to dress in rags and shoddy. In a pinch the hog raiser may eat his own hog. The wheat farmer can take his wheat 13 to the flour mill and have it ground, and if his wife hasn’t forgotten how to bake, he may eat the bread. But raw cotton, cannot be worn, eaten, or used as fuel; therefore no other class of farmers are more dependent upon the capitalist class than the cotton raiser. It is claimed that the cotton raisers suffer greatly from the hook worm, but it is hard to believe that even a hook worm can make a living out of the cotton raiser after the capitalists get through with him. Suppose you own a fiddle and I own the bow. How much music will you make? Suppose you own the well and I own the pump. How much water can you get? Even a free owned farm with all its implements, animals and machines form only the first link in a long chain of production. Those who own the other links between the farmer and the con- sumer determine the wages and the mode of living of the far- mer as effectively as the owner of the factory determines the wages of his employes. But not all the farmers own even the first link of this chain. The farm land itself is gradually slipping away from the farmer. It may be well for some people to po,int to the automobiles and carriages as sure signs of prosperity among the farmers, but as long as it can be shown that the farmer is losing the very foundation on which he rests; if it can be shown that mother earth itself is becoming capitalist property — that is, a means of exploitation — then all this prosperity talk is idle wind. A farmer without land is a good deal like a fish without water, and so it may be well to give a little study to the land question. THE LAND QUESTION. The private ownership of land has been condemned by every thinker and prophet from Moses to Herbert Spencer, Karl Marx and Henry George. Even God has declared himself in favor of the common ownership of land when he said: “You are strangers and sojourners on this earth. And the land shall not be sold forever, for the land is mine.” For many centuries the Jews heeded the divine injunction and divided the land every fiftieth year among the children of Israel. But in the course of time real estate agents and land boomers settled among them. The common land of God’s children became the private property of the few, and the many found themselves landless. Thereupon God waxed wroth, as they used to say when a person got huffy, and he said to his chosen people, “Woe unto you, for you have built house on 14 HH§iiPpH THE STORY OF MR. ANANIAS - '£= ~ a ss were a queer set, and nothing like them has ever been seen i a o S gu D m no hnStend0m ' ^ the firSt PlaCe ’ they beIie ™ d m divid- Of clothing “We e h M aS advoc ' ating the common ownership t clothing We hold everything in common except our wives ” comnTn tab/ 116 ^’ A ‘ Ume they assembl ed around the ifTbe f n b v, ery ° ne brousht aI > b e had to the table and a kfct T 0 W s T°k1 Ched n he l6aSt ea ‘ th6 m ° st “ one raised * ; Tkls looked might y good to Mr. Ananias and he de- cided to get m on the ground floor. Now, the by-laws of the organization stipulated that those who had land must sell it and bring the proceeds thereof o the common table. Well, this Ananias man owned a good farm in Palestme County, and he sold it. But when it came ‘no / “° ney t0 hiS Cbristian brothers he hedged No one knows how much I got for my farm except the man to himseff So heV l ° keep mum ’” said A »anias himself. So he knocked down some of the money But it appears that St. Peter, the chairman of the meet- ing, smelled a rat, and he spake unto the new convert thusly nanias, is this all the boodle thou got for thy farm’” "Sure n pete n ” ni Th l00ked P6 ‘ er SQUare in the eyes - and said, °ure, Pete. Thereupon God smote him dead and some the ‘out side. WS WraPP6d “ a blanket and dumbed bim And Ib h r th6y CaI ' ed iD Ml ' S ' Ananias and cross-examined her nd she swore up and down that the money on the table was 15 all they got for the farm. But all this time she had a wad stuck away down in her stocking, where no one could see it. But the Lord saw it, and he smote her dead also. This is what happened to Christians who refused to divide up when Christianity was still in working order. Nowadays the preachers explain that Ananias and his old I lady were killed because they lied and not because they refused to divide their land. But anybody with a grain of sense ! ought to know that if folks got killed for lying in business only deaf and dumb people would populate this world. Yes, the private ownership of land is wrong from the religious standpoint, but if people who claim to be saved don’t care a rap for what God says, then what’s the use for an ordinary mortal like myself to spring the religious argument against the private ownership of land? It wouldn’t cause the most pious land owner on earth to part with enough soil to make a mud pie. Land is the storehouse of nature, from which mankind draws the material to sustain life. Those who hold the key to this storehouse also hold in their hands the life of those who , cannot enter without their permission. Labor applied to land creates wealth; but those who are denied access to the soil can only create wealth by working for the owner of the land. Land is the free gift of nature to all her children. If there such a thing as natural right, the right to the use of the land should be foremost. ' But in this world of strife and strug- gle there is no such a thing as natural right. “Might is right,”* and for thousands of years the mighty have possessed them- selves of the land and used it to oppress and enslave the weak. Even a religion which proclaims the Fatherhood of God and the Brotherhood of Men failed to prevent a division of “God’s Children” into lords and serfs, landlords and tenants. As long as our population was small and land practi- cally unlimited landlordism could not develop, for no man will voluntarily work for another for less than he can get by working for himself. But in the course of time the country became more densely populated. A capitalist government, with an eye for the interest of the class it served, presented whole empires to railroad companies. Up to 1896 our benevo- lent, paternalistic government gave 266,000,000 acres of -land to the railroad promoters. The Northern Pacific alone received a grant of forty-eight million acres. Most of these grants were obtained through fraud, bribery and the corruption of the representatives of the people. 16 Court Judges down to State from Presidents and Supreme Governors and Assemblymen. It seems that the sole purpose of all land legislation dur- ing the last three quarters of a century was to encourage land- lordism and land speculation and to rob the farming popula- tion for the benefit of gigantic corporations. Uncle Sam squandered natural resources like a drunken sailor; or, better he robbed his nephews and nieces like an unscrupulous guar- dian to enrich a few of his pets. S All through the northwest we find -the railroad corpora- tions selling the land, which Uncle Sam was kind enough to give them for nothing, to subsidiary lumber companies and with the proceeds thereof built the roads. These lumber companies barely paid more than a few dollars per acre for the finest timber land in the world but the price more than paid for. the building of the roads. In due time the majestic forest was converted info lumber. The cut and burned-over land, with nothing left on it but the blackened stumps, was sold to settlers for from ten to fifteen dollars per acre. In this ingenious way the farmer was made to pay for the building of roads which were to rob him ever after. Inci- dentally he also helped the struggling lumber trust to bear the heavy expense entailed in the devastation of our forests. Even when the government gave the land direct to the set- tlers under the homestead acts it was more from a desire to furnish freight and passenger traffic for the subsidized roads than to help the farmer to land. To-day our public domain is a thing of the past, and what little land there is still open for homesteading is too poor to raise a fuss on with two Irishmen and a gallon of whisky. Where other enlightened people have steadily striven towards the abolition of land monopoly, our own government made it easy to monopolize the soil. There is absolutely no limit as to how much of God’s earth an individual may hog in the land of the free and the home of the brave. Even foreign land- lords have been encouraged to take as much of the pie as desired. Here, for instance, are a few English beneficiaries of Uncle Sam’s generosity: Earl of Cleveland 106,650 acres Duke of Devonshire 148,625 acres Duke of Northumberland 191,460 acres Byron H. Evans 700,000 acres Duke of Sutherland 422,-000 acres Robert Tenant 530,000 acres . 17 W. Whaley, M. P Mr. Ellerhousen Baron Tweedale 310.000 acres 600.000 acres 1,700,000 acres In 1896 six foreign land companies owned twenty-six mil- lion acres of this country, or enough to give 140,000 home- steads of 160 acres each. Cutting the homesteads down to eighty acres each, this land would support a farming popula- tion of 1,400,000 souls. SQme patriotic souls are bitterly opposed to alien owner- ship of land, but, to save my soul, I cannot see what difference j it makes whether the rack-rent-ridden tenant pays his sweat- stained sheckels to the agent of my Lord Tweedledeedle in St. Louis or to Lawyer Skinnem at the nearest county seat. If a boy puts a tack on my chair and I sit on it, I am not going to lick the boy because he is Dutch or Irish, but because he put the tack under me. It is not the nationality of the boy that hurts, but the tack, and so it is with landlordism. The native land hog has been not less enterprising than the foreign breed, and it seems that our homemade trusts have dabbled considerably in the real estate business on the side. Here are a few trust landlords: Lumber Trust 30,000,000 acres Standard Oil 1,000,000 acres Leather Trust 500,000 acres Steel Trust, value $60,000,000 Then there a number of thrifty and frugal individuals, who worked hard and saved still harder, until they acquired farms of such goodly proportions as that one of the late D. C. Murphy of New York, who left 4,000,000 acres of land be- hind; former United States Senator Farwell of Illinois, who owned 3,000,000; and Henry Miller of California, who to-day is the undisputed lord over 22,500 square miles. Yes, this is the richest country on earth, and there is enough land for ten times the population we have, but it hap- pens to belong to the fellow who farms the farmer instead of the farmer who farms the farm. There is plenty of air for everybody and some to spare, but if air could be bottled, frozen, packed or monopolized, some captain of industry would choke little meters down our throats and make us cough up a quar- ter for a day’s breathing. And he should not be blamed for it, either, because it is our duty to encourage brain, ability, foresightedness, enterprise and sagacity. Besides, a people who are willing to pay others for the use of God’s earth should have no objection to putting up good money for God’s air also. 18 Yes but the^isTn ," bUt th6Se Pe ° Ple ° Wn to ° much land." r r srr % ten hundreds, thousands or unions of peopfe^ B^idt ^ the great trusts own considerable land, the ^LmutET sashed in getti the , farm product wiihout 0 “^ ta™ towns w^i:^:hr;:^ apitaiists in the «*»* «* WHY THE FARMERS LOSE THE SOIL a hope that some" daT thT ^ * z r sinss ot fa ™ - * s55S3£=~s=5 =pH~ss:ss= Worths "C “ Way: The Same Kansas farm Worth $ 1 J“ HI,’ pro f ced 2 °00 bu. of corn, value $1000 Worth $ 5*000 in loon* Pr ° duCed 2000 bu - of cor n, value $1000 Worth x ' in , n’ ^ 2 °°° bU ' ° f Corn - value $1000 to $^;rr— ! SHSr- rn m 1880 will not produce 2000 19 kushels of corn in 1910 unless a greater amount of labor is “ expended, for while land values have steadily gone up, the tj: productivity of the soil has gone down. As long as this farmer works his own land it is immaterial to him whether the land i is worth ten cents or ten thousand dollars. Yes, you see that; but you say: “This farmer bought his i farm for $100.00 in 1880; to-day he can sell it for $10,000.00 land make a clear profit of $9,900.00.” Admitted, but some- 'body must have $10,000.00 before our farmer can get it. Let > us say our farmer’s name is Tom and the other fellow’s name is Dick. i Tom has A farm Dick has ..$10,000.00 Now the two swap, and let’s see what happened, j Nothing happened; not a cent of value was created. In- ! stead of Dick eating up his $10,000.00 in town, Tom is mov- ing to town to do the spending and Dick moves on the farm. The two change positions — that is all. If this changing of land and money has benefited Tom and Dick, then figure it out for me; and if the swapping between Tom and Dick did not make the two any richer than they were before the swap, how on |l earth is the swapping of all the Toms and Dicks in the country j| going to benefit the farming class? If I own a dollar and you own a pup, and I give you a dollar for your pup, how many more dollars and how many more pups have we now? And if we haven’t got any more pups and dollars, how much better off are we? But let us say I am a land speculator and you are a far- mer. In 1880 I bought the above-mentioned piece of dirt for $100.00. The rent has paid all the taxes and 8 per cent on the money invested. For thirty years I have busied myself sitting in the shade waiting for a sucker. Then you come along. Want a farm to raise corn, don’t you? and you have $10,000.00, which means that I get $9,900 for waiting for you; and you raised 18,800 bushels of corn in the days gone by and turned the money over to me. I, the land speculator, got the savings of your life time and you got a piece of land which was here a couple of millions of years before land speculators ever were | invented. Therefore I say again, high land values are of no more benefit to the farmer than high-priced farm implements 1 are to him, for the actual farmer wants land and implements for use and not for' speculation. EFFECT OF INHERITANCE. Now let us put the case differently. Tom, the owner of the aforementioned Kansas farm lives on it until he dies. Of 20 amounts to $360.00 per vear at « na ! * f * The lnteres a ic hoont fill i improving this . beautiful work until now it is a fine large volume of many chap- ters. It covers the entire case of capitalism from the point of most intense human .< interest. Dove, — marriage,— tfbme, — babies, all the sweet Snd tender thoughts that this gifted writer has ex- pressed in her many written articles are gathered here; a book that every wife and mother, every husband ana. father, every lover and maul- ten should have by them. Life will be sweeter and richer for you when you have read “The Sorrows of C “ P ‘ WORKERS IN AMERICAN HISTORY.' James Oneal of Terre Haut^In^ spent and research to write a bonk, ine the American toiling masses, ; Mexfcan^War. This is a wonder- lul Either of these great books will be sent pre-pald on receipt of SAM REMEMB I ER~iryou are mol you are missing son^Mng great. ^r more, 25 cents a year. The SO cents a year — m clubs n* ™u £ \V ach car a good for one years Rip-Saw also sells subscription card^eac^ ^ cftnts each You can Vil ?hSe 6 c n ards any t°ime°to yoir friends. They are always good-for 3 "BUT rOOKHERE-YilU £^1 JSg trlfL^ho^easy, it^toget THEY ALD WANT Bo* this and of Kat*e ’Rlchards'crHare's’or^neal^^ook tor yonr library FREE. as JtJ-O.1 O W VT» ,'x Address:— THE NATIONAL RIP-SAW ^ L(jrIS> M0 . tfty~°prfee^ ’on** “The^Wo'rketsf^llf "American History* »d ‘°' u - not rive kind os -