HUMOIS HISTORICAL SURVEY 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF ILLINOIS 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 Presented in 1916 
 
 by 
 President Edmund J. James 
 
 in memory of 
 Amanda K. Casad 
 
 K38
 
 EDMUND J. .AMES
 
 COPYRIGHT 1912 BY 
 
 ADA H. KEPLEY, 
 
 Effingham, 111.
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 - BY - 
 
 ADA H. KEPLEY 
 
 EDMUND J. JAMBS 
 
 ' 'Real knowledge consists not in an acquaintance with facts, 
 which only makes a pedant, but in the use of facts, which makes 
 a philosopher. ' 'B UCKLE. 
 
 WORMAN'S PRINTERY, 
 
 TEUTOPOLIS, ILLINOIS
 
 To My Father and Mother Henry, and Ann M. Miser; 
 
 To My Husband Henry B. Kepley; 
 
 To My Sister Nora Miser Scott; 
 
 Who were my teachers and my lovers, 
 
 I dedicate this Book,
 
 p 
 
 
 A LOVE SONG. 
 
 ToS. 
 
 I hear the music of the birds, 
 
 On vine and earth and tree, 
 
 Their days are full, their happy lives, 
 
 Are songs of jubilee. 
 
 The rain comes down, the cold winds blow, 
 But soon the sun will shine, 
 And happiness among the birds, 
 Runs all along the line. 
 
 They live, they love, they toil each day, 
 They build their homes and rest, 
 They raise with song and tender care 
 The birdlings in the nest. 
 
 The love that flows through sun and sky 
 That shows in grass and tree 
 Runs through the happy birdlings lives 
 And warms both you and me. 
 
 400617
 
 ADA H. KEPLEY
 
 A LOVE STORY 7 
 
 EFFINGHAM. 
 
 ' 'Be still my heart and rest, 
 Home staying hearts are happiest" 
 Longfellow. 
 
 Effingham is a little City of five thousands people, at the 
 junction of the Illinois Central and Vandalia Railroads. The 
 Illinois Central runs from the far North via New Orleans and 
 the Gulf through South America so we are in touch with the 
 ends of the continent almost in an air line both ways. The 
 Vandalia Railroad is an air line with its connections from the 
 East to Hiwaii and the Phillipines, from the -Atlantic to the Pa- 
 cific Coast", and thence around the earth Westward to the Al- 
 lantic Coast again. 
 
 I have lived the most of my life in the little town of Effing- 
 ingham, Illinois, and while it is true I have gone North, South, 
 East and West, my life has mainly been spent in its precincts. 
 I once upset the dignity of a St. Louis drummer by telling him 
 I lived in a suburb of three Cities. "Where do you live"? he 
 politely asked. "At Effingham" said I, and he roared, he 
 thought it was such a joke. "Well" said I, "the women of 
 Effingham can run to St. Louis, Chicago and Indianapolis and 
 back, to shop, in a day's time, and I'd like to know if we are 
 not suburbanites to all three of those cities" ? And the whole of 
 us laughed. 
 
 I read in an Illinois Central year book that when the Na- 
 tions of the earth met at Washington, D. C., to determine the 
 length of a maratime day, that a German scientist whose name 
 I have forgotten, wrote them that as the matter involved the 
 renaming of standard time, that Central time should be named 
 Effingham time, as geographically it was situated in the exact 
 centre spot just as Greenwich, England, is so situated that long- 
 titude for the whole world is reckoned from it. 
 
 No one knows how we received our name, Effingham. 
 There was a Lord Effingham in the English fleet that whipped 
 the Spanish Armada. There was an Effingham Cock mixed up 
 with the riots at Alton, 111., when Owen Lovejoy gave his life 
 for the sake of a Great Reform; there are five post offices by
 
 8 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 that name in the land. This is the most anyone knows. London, 
 Berlin, Delhi, New York, Philadelphia, St. Louis, Chicago, 
 Vincennes, Alton, Rio Janiero and hundreds of large cities, and 
 small towns in the old and new worlds are well known in song 
 and story and otherwise. This little town of Effingham is not 
 known, but is full of material for the poet, the prose writer and 
 historian, as well as of material plenty for a writer of fiction; 
 but no one has found it out as yet, though we have some who 
 are able with the pen in prose and poetry. As I said I have lived 
 the most of my life in Effingham and I have not lost much of 
 the rest of the world, for it has come to me. Life has been 
 strenuous, eventful and valuable. I do not see why the people 
 of every town everywhere may not find happiness and interest 
 at home. All one needs is to be himself or herself and to fear 
 nothing and nobody, and to get knowledge; wisdom will come, 
 the Good Book says. The poets, the historians, the writers are 
 all mine, and the best there is is mine; as are the events of each 
 day the whole world round, thanks to the great newspapers. I 
 do not see as we need miss any of the real life no matter where 
 we are, and as like comes to like, we shall in due season know 
 and be known by everybody worth while to us, and we shall 
 not have lived in vain. I think Effingham is just as good as 
 anywhere else, and so I am as satisfied to stay. 
 
 I have known artists, lawyers, doctors, preachers, poets, 
 orators, judges, reformers and people from far and near of note, 
 as well as others who had no claim to greatness but who did 
 much for their day and generation. I cannot say I missed 
 much I wished for. My life has been full of zest and is yet. I 
 have had adventures of all sorts, and the way is open for many 
 more. I have lived an adventurous life in a little town. I would 
 be glad to live a long time yet, and I can think of things to 
 keep me busy and that will interest me for a hundred years to 
 come. What is done in one place can be done in another. 
 There is no town large or small but has material for historic 
 and romantic tales; all that is needed is some one who sees be- 
 low the surface of men and women and things, and idealizes 
 the common and ordinary, and translates the loves of hearts and 
 lives into language and picturing, that all may read and under- 
 stand. There is an enchantment that comes with years and
 
 A LOVE STORY 9 
 
 the older places have it, but all places are growing to thaL 
 Time has a glamour all its own, but every heart has a history 
 in modern as well as in ancient times, and given a sympathetic 
 setting, can make a tale worth the reading. Everywhere men 
 and women give local color to their narratives and I do the 
 same to the place where I have lived and loved, and still love 
 Effingham. 
 
 Stratford on Avon, Abbotsford, The Lake Country, Gad's 
 Hill, Concord, Brook Farm, The Hermitage, Mt. Vernon, Rest 
 Cottage, thousands of places are dear to us as the seats of 
 genius. They were homes for great men and women who 
 loved to stay at home, finding it best, and bringing forth the 
 best within themselves. 
 
 Now that so many are City mad, it is good we culture the 
 love of home, of the small places, and of the farm, and bring; 
 forth the best we can in ourselves everywhere. It is true "To* 
 stay at Home is best. ' ' The farms and the small places produce 
 the most vigorous minded men and women after all.
 
 10 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 I TAKE A NEW PART IN THE PLAY OF LIFE. 
 
 "All the ivorld'sa stage, and all the men and women merely 
 players; each have their exits and their entrances and one man 
 in his time plays many parts". Shakespeare 
 
 I have been in time, a school girl, a practicer of all the do- 
 mestic arts, a wife, a housekeeper, a teacher, a preacher, a law- 
 yer, a reformer, an editor, the leader of a high cult Emerson 
 Club, an official in the W. C. T. U. for many years. I was or- 
 dained to the Unitarian Ministry under Rev. Jasper L. Douthet's 
 ministrations. I am the first woman graduate of a law school 
 in the world; I hold a degree as a Bachelor of Laws from the 
 University of Chicago, graduating in June 1870 under Judge 
 Henry Booth of Chicago, as Dean of the Law Department. I 
 am an honorary member of the State Bar Association of Ill- 
 inois, and of the Mexican War Veterans, and hold a Ph D. de- 
 gree and other trophies I have won as I ran my race. These 
 things came to me after my marriage. I have had an adven- 
 turous life in a little town, and in it all I was aided and abetted 
 by my husband, Henry B. Kepley, who was a member of the 
 Effingham County Bar. 
 
 There came to my house on a winter day that Power to 
 whom no one may say "No", and when my beloved was borne 
 away and I sat in the ashes of my home, life seemed hardly 
 worth the effort to keep it. The dejection of my loss was upon 
 me, and nothing seemed worth while. My spirit was in abey- 
 ance to my body, which was out of vigor. Child in my house 
 there was none; my kindred, what few were left, were far 
 away; my soul turned upon herself and dwelt alone. I thought 
 of what good old Job's wife said to him, and felt Who was I, 
 who needed me, and the paltry things I did? 
 
 But there were houses and lands and things that I was in 
 duty and honor bound to look after, and that had been com- 
 mitted to my care, and I decided I would take a new part in 
 the play of life and become a farmer, and see if that would 
 take me out of the deadly miasma of grief.
 
 A LOVE STORY 11 
 
 I remembered "Nature never did betray the heart that 
 loved her". I had never had all the ground I wanted to dig in> 
 nor time for it. I loved the woods, the fields, the blue sky,, 
 the cattle and everything that lived almost. . 
 
 I was absolutely free to do as I pleased. I was responsible 
 to nobody but the good God and myself, I resolved to be a 
 farmer an up-to-date one if I could. Agriculture I had always 
 loved, and agricultural books, papers and pamphlets, and stock 
 and fruit papers charmed me to read. I talked with farmers 
 and watched the fields, but I was a town bred woman ; I had 
 never lived on a farm in my life, just visited on, and enjoyed 
 the life of the farmer, Some of my friends were horrified at 
 the decision I made, a few patted me on the back and said 
 'That's right". The life long physician of my household, Dr. 
 J. B. Walker, himself a lover of the farm, and a farmer, ap- 
 proved of my venture heartily, and prophesied success for me. 
 My early death was foretold by some, but I was determined to 
 be a farmer. I suppose it did look foolish, but I had to ride 
 over many things my friends declared foolish, and that did 
 not turn out that way. 
 
 I set my town affairs in the best order I could. My dear 
 home was dismantled; that was now a part of my past, and I 
 was like Columbus afloat on a to me, uncharted sea. 
 
 My farm is in Mason township, Effingham County, Illinois. 
 It has prairie, bottom and upland fields, and much pasture land. 
 The little Wabash River and Fulfer Creek run through it. It 
 is fructified by many living springs, There is much timber on 
 it, grand old trees, and trees coming on; lovely ravines with 
 gray old rocks and ferns and mosses and wild flowers and 
 pools of water where the cattle and other stock drink, and 
 things that minister to the sense and love of grandeur and 
 beauty. From my upper window I can see the gray old covered 
 wagon bridge, a relic of the past, that crosses the Wabash 
 River, and just beyond that are the great arches of the magni- 
 ficent concrete, Illinois Central Railroad bridge that stretch 
 across the river like an old Roman Aqueduct the old and new 
 in sharp contrast. This body of land was once all timber but 
 had been cleared and used as a stock farm by my husband, and 
 there were horses and cattle and hogs upon it when it came to-
 
 12 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 me and farm implements. There were barns and granaries, 
 sheds and hoghouses and dwellings. There were bottom and 
 upland fields in cultivation, but the most was grazing land. 
 
 The first year I kept "the boss" who was on the place 
 when it came to me. At the beginning of the second year he 
 left me, and I became "Boss", myself, and am yet. 
 
 To learn my farm I walked fence lines, tramped and drove 
 over the bottom and upland fields and waste places and racked 
 my brain for plans for the upbuilding of my new venture. I 
 repaired my barns and granaries; I hauled the houses to better 
 situations, I built new granaries, and hog houses; made a big 
 chicken-house and a big cellar in a bank, likewise. I fixed up 
 a new house of several detached buildings for myself. 
 
 I hired men, who cut trees, made posts, set them and strung 
 fences making new fields which had to be cleared up and 
 made ready for the plough. We ploughed broken land to rid 
 it of briars and brush and planted meadows to succeed them; 
 burned stumps; cleared fence corners, cut brush and briars. I 
 planted an orchard, and small fruits a'nd garden stuff, and 
 shrubs, flowers and evergreens to make the farm useful and 
 beautiful together. I stocked up with pigeons, chickens, turk- 
 eys and peacocks. I worked just as a woman does when she 
 goes into new premises, to get things in order. Agricultural 
 books and papers of all kinds I read and re-read. I read seed 
 and plant catalogues which are fascinating and valuable and 
 mostly true, if they do contain a few fables. I read National 
 and State Bulletins of all sorts on agriculture. I drove thirty 
 or forty miles each week, climbed fences and hay-mows, cut 
 brush, piled and burned it, fired and destroyed stumps, raked hay, 
 rode the wagons, on hay loads and otherwise, hammered and 
 sawed and nailed, sent logs to th? mill, tried" experiments, 
 raised hogs, etc. until I began to digest food and sleep of nights 
 once more. So I played my new part on the stage of life, and 
 still do. I am called a good farmer, which I hope is true. 
 Farm life is strenuous, but it has its compensations in plenty, 
 and I love my new part in the play.
 
 A LOVE STORY 13 
 
 THE BEAUTY AND CHARM OF MY FARM. 
 
 My farm has many beautiful and interesting places and 
 things upon it. There are great ravines where the water once 
 upon a time, when the world was new, ran deep, and I find flat 
 stones that once were round, but that the great glaciers miles 
 high above the earth, ground flat and left to make the record 
 of their travels good. I wonder sometimes if, when the sea 
 came and went upon my land and the solid earth rose and fell 
 with internal convulsions, if it left far down in deeps that I can 
 never reach that marvelous oil that has lubricated the earth 
 and lit it up with useful light and fires and shocked the people 
 with its millions. I wonder if those old Saurians and Mam- 
 moths and other semi-amphibians, lie waiting the magic touch 
 of the drill and pump and air and barrel for me? But the grass 
 is green on bank and bottom and hill-side, and gray old 
 rocks and mosses and ferns and blooming plants and trees, 
 grand and majestic, are sweet and gay with bud and bloom, 
 and awake the sense of beauty now. I wish I could strike oil! 
 
 The woods are full of sly foxes and funny woodchucks, 
 coon, and possum, and squirrels, red and gray chattering in 
 the trees; the chipmunks haunt my granaries, and field mice, 
 and birds make wild scrambles on the ground and delight me. 
 The quiet waters of Fulfer Creek and the little Wabash River 
 shimmer in the sun and darken in the shade. There are game 
 fish in these streams and every shallow is full of darting min- 
 nows; craw-fish kick and scramble; the slow mussel in pearly
 
 14 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 shells leaves trails in the shallow rapids. I wish I'd find some 
 pearls within their grasp. Along the Creek and River Banks 
 the mink and muskrat make their burrows, and coon and pos- 
 sum leave their human like tracks where they search for food. 
 The love songs of the great and little owls are heard by day and 
 night. The prairie chickens boom on my meadows; quail in 
 coveys creep or run or fly and shock me as they burst the quiet 
 of the air with wing and feather. I hear the singing of the 
 ring- tailed coons from many a tree, the birds are mad with joy; 
 the rabbits set the dogs crazy to chase them, and fool them to 
 their hearts content, and make one laugh to see how cute they 
 are. 
 
 The wild Cherry veils itself in white and feeds the bees in 
 summer and the birds in autumn ; the delicious odor and color 
 of the wild crab intoxicates one with its breath in May, and 
 feeds us with a wholesome and aromatic fruit in October. The 
 Alders, with lovely feathery blooms give us joy in June and in 
 September bow with rich treasures for the housewife. The 
 redbud and sassafrass and linden and sarvice berry and black- 
 berries bud, bloom, and the berries ripen and make us rich with 
 food. The wild rose in turn exalts one. The walnut and hick- 
 ory trees pelt us with their nuts in November; the wild grapes 
 bloom and scent the air in Spring, and in October after the 
 frosts come we feed upon their dainty fruit. Titania, Oberon 
 and Puck and Mustardseed, and Peas blossom, and Cobweb, 
 play hide-and-seek w r ith me; I think I see them but they hide 
 behind the trees. I know the brownies run and creep and crawl 
 and climb and work for me. The fauns, the dryads, the hama- 
 dryiads peek at me, but I cannot coax them into view. The 
 water nymphs are here, I see the bubbles on the water where 
 they sink from view. I hear Pan piping in the* reeds ; he woos 
 me, but he will not come no matter how I plead. The Satyrs 
 all have fled, the sylvan shades I see them stumbling in and 
 out on crooked goat legs all about the town, I revel in the 
 charm and Beauty of my Farm.
 
 A LOVE STORY 15 
 
 MY FATHER AND MOTHER. 
 
 My Mother was a faithful woman, giving all good gifts to 
 her children, sacrificing everything if need be, for their good. 
 She was a lover of the good and beautiful and true, and all that 
 made life better and she taught it to her children. 
 
 My Father was a kindly man who loved Nature. I learned 
 soil culture from him, as a small child. What a nice garden he 
 always had, and how I loved to tag after him in it and imitate 
 him later on and now. He was a good reader and loved the 
 best as my mother also did. Shakespeare was at hand for 
 every child, and books and poets and papers and good writers 
 and our mother would read to us in the long winter evening 
 often from Dickens and Bulwer Litton. 
 
 My Mother taught us to pray at her knee and to kiss each 
 other. She taught us all the quaint old stories of the Bible, 
 and, I was a surprise to the Preachers who took me on their 
 knees for a quiz, for I was the best one of her little folks to re- 
 member. How thankful I am that I had a Father and Mother 
 who shaped me for good, for as my life runs to and fro with all 
 my errors and mistakes, and who does not make them, the de- 
 sire for good, and to do good they planted in me and cultured, 
 comes more and more to the front in my life. With the in- 
 stinct that way I had from godly ancestors I have been able to 
 keep, as the Free Methodists say " Right ivith God" lean in their 
 quaint phraesology say "praise to God", and I can understand 
 things that make for righteousness. Many have hated me and 
 a man once told me the devil would get me. I said ' 'Have I 
 ever served the devil since you knew me"? He grinned. 
 "No", I said, "and what's more I never did, and I'd like to 
 know what the devil could do with me if I got into hell. I 
 never served him on this earth and I surely would not serve 
 him there, and I'm mighty certain he'd have a job on his hands 
 if he got me for I'd give him a plenty to do, and I'll warrant 
 he'd get rid of me as quick as he could, like the woman he gave 
 the shoes to for fear she'd take his throne". 
 
 My Mother loved flowers, and was dainty in her ways, in 
 dress, she had beautiful things, was high minded in every w r ay. 
 My father loved to see her have the best and he made her beautiful
 
 16 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 gifts. She loved to read to her children and she taught them 
 how to work and respect work. She taught them to be honor- 
 able. She was also a good cook and house-keeper and taught 
 us. 
 
 My Father loved animals. His horses, dogs, hogs and cats 
 would follow him whenever they saw him, and would squeal, 
 moo or bark or whinny or grunt to him. He loved flowers and 
 always cultivated them in his garden. He was an ingenious 
 worker in woods and metals and there wasn't an idle bone in 
 his body; and my mother matched him in industry. 
 
 My Father and Mother are still alive to me. I think of 
 them so often and long to see and speak with them. I ask 
 their pardon many times when I am alone in the silences of the 
 night for my shortcomings towards them, and it comforts me 
 to feel I am forgiven. 
 
 I wrote a little poem after my Mother's death; that was a 
 consolation for it was to her I wrote it.
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 'MOEGE IHR DIE ERDE LEICHT SEIN". 
 
 -TO MY MOTHER.- 
 
 Rest softly earth upon her breast, 
 Who nourished me in helplessness, 
 Who gave the home, that blessed nest- 
 Rich largess of unselfishness. 
 
 Rest softly earth, upon the heart, 
 That beat with constant tenderness 
 For all whom she, with loving art, 
 Gave daily of her helpfulness. 
 
 Rest softly over silent lips 
 That ever smiled in cheerfulness; 
 O'er clasped hands and quiet feet; 
 O'er eyes that shone forgivingness. 
 
 Oh, Earth, we lay her in thy breast; 
 Our hearts feel grief's deep bitterness, 
 As here we place her, long to rest, 
 Our souls feel all life's littleness. 
 
 Though grief may wear the stricken heart, 
 That mourns its loss in humanness, 
 Rest softly, till no more we part, 
 She taught us faith's bright hopefulness.
 
 18 
 
 MY PARTNER. 
 
 HENRY B. KEPLEY. 
 
 Eve was a married woman, but Adam seems to have put 
 no limitation on her as a wife, and if what she did caused the 
 human race to want knowledge and wisdom she was surely a 
 great impulse for her own good as well as for all others down 
 the ages to now. If she made it possible and certain that all 
 men and woman had to work, instead of loaf, that was surely 
 a matter or great benefit to the human race and she ought to 
 have credit for it. If it had not been for her, if the old ortho- 
 doxy is true, I should never have been a farmer. Debora was 
 a married woman; her husband's name was "Lapidoth" and
 
 A LOVE STORY 19 
 
 Holy writ does not see fit to make any record of him except his 
 name. Debora was Supreme Judge, Prophet and Commander- 
 in-chief of the armies of Israel, in line with the law laid down 
 in Genesis 1st, 26th and 27th verses. That woman of Pro- 
 verbs 31, the virtuous woman whose price was far above rubies 
 was a married woman and she taught her son thousands of 
 years before Christ the exact true and righteous status of man 
 and woman as husband and wife, and she was an absolutely 
 free woman just as women ought to be now. This clearly ap- 
 pearsthat the highest good a woman can do her husband is to 
 be free, and the highest good a man can do to himself as well 
 as to his wife is not to meddle with her freedom. Tennyson 
 has sensed the truth of God, and followed it with his celebrated 
 theme in "The Princess". "The woman's cause is Man's; they 
 rise or sink together dwarfed or Godlike, bond or free". I 
 have always urged women "If you want your husbands to be 
 somebody, get out yourself ". "If you men want to be some- 
 body, push your wives out". I have often asked audiences "I 
 suppose you have always heard that a woman who went out of 
 her home to do things henpecked her husband. Haven't you 
 heard that?" And any-body with one eye could read that belief 
 in their faces. "You think old maids and. widows may go out 
 and do public work but the married woman must stay home?" 
 Well, the Good Book teaches otherwise; now if men want to be 
 somebody they must push their wives out, and women must get 
 out to help their husbands to do their best. 
 
 My Partner, Henry B. Kepley, urged me to attend law 
 school and I was away from my home and him for nine months 
 in the second year of our married life, with only an occasional 
 visit home or from him. It was hard on both of us, for we 
 loved each other, but we stuck it out. He urged me to all sorts 
 of deeds, and sought things for me. I remember once at a 
 Prohibition State Convention he did his best to get me a nomi- 
 nation as State Superintendent of Public Instruction. I was 
 rather shocked I own for it was a secret to me till the last 
 moment but he saw no reason why not. I'd have received the 
 nomination only some one raised the cry I was a Unitarian as 
 he was also and that killed off the matter, for at that time the 
 Unitarian was a sort of Hobgoblin among the Orthodox. So
 
 20 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 the honor was given to a man who never did very much. I 
 should have canvassed the State for the office, but it was not 
 to be; but my Partner sought that honor for me. I was a very 
 hard fighter against saloons and I did many things that brought 
 me into trouble, and when I got in too deep, my Partner would 
 pull me out, and he never reproached me which was a great 
 comfort, for it was hard for me to do many things I did. Once 
 in a while when I went sailing too high as he thought he'd 
 caution me, but I'd say "See here, I've sat at your feet all 
 these years Master, and you taught me; I am following my 
 teachings". He would say no more. Once when I had been 
 beaten over the head by a mad saloon keeper he bought a big 
 black cane. I knew what that meant. It was not easy for a 
 man to see his wife beaten and he not strike; it looked cowardly. 
 But I said, ' 'See here, you will not use that stick. We can take 
 beatings but we will not give beatings", and so it ended. But 
 it was hard for him to swallow such an insult to his wife; he 
 was a large man six feet tall and weighed about 200 pounds. 
 But for a great principle he could, and did. The big stick 
 I have yet, but he is not here and I walk alone with my memor- 
 ries. When I was arrested for tearing down pictures, and 
 tried in a Justice's Court, he made a fine defense for me. In 
 Circuit Court he made defense for me again, with Judge Wm. 
 Wright of our bar. As an honored and able member of the Bar, 
 belonging to the State Bar Association, as President of a Col- 
 lege, as President of the Old Settlers' Association as an L. L. 
 D. and leading all sorts of enterprises for the public good, he 
 was a busy and a useful man. He kept The Temple open for 
 twenty years where all Christian people might preach free of 
 charge and that was an open house for all temperance work 
 and workers and where he helped teach children and youth for 
 twenty years; it was a place where all reformers could find a 
 chance for free expression. He was a contributor to all move- 
 ments for the public good; he was not without what the world 
 calls honors. When he was a young man he made his will be- 
 cause the laws were not just to women, and robbed her, and he 
 left all he had or hoped to have, to his wife. He was a few 
 years older than I was, and the old will made by the young 
 man and yellowed with the years was the one I filed when he
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 21 
 
 was called from "Labor to Repose", and my farm, which has 
 been my salvation, came to me along with other things from 
 him. 
 
 When He who "Set the solitary in families" made the 
 law, He made man, male and female created He them, and He 
 gave them dominion over all his works. My Partner measured 
 up to the law of God. He was a self made man, coming up 
 from hard pioneer days in Illinois, and from the farm. He was 
 six feet high, of a good breadth and of a noble port and was 
 called handsome. He told me he had a dream in which I ap- 
 peared to him and that when he saw me first he knew me, so I 
 was a dream wife. He was a faithful and good friend, my 
 Partner, whose memory I revere and whose business I look af- 
 ter as well as I can, and who I hope to meet again. 
 
 THE COLLEGE.
 
 22 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THY HAND. 
 
 A LOVE LETTER TO MY HUSBAND. 
 
 Dear hand, upon my head, 
 
 I feel thee gently fall, 
 
 Soft, cool, and caressing, and all 
 
 My dear love is to me, thy subtle charm, 
 
 Though palm, and finger tips, 
 
 And pulsing heart beats warm, 
 
 Brings o'er me like a spell; 
 
 The world far from me slips, 
 
 And I remember nothing, only thee ; 
 
 And sweet content, like poppy juice, possessifme: 
 
 And so I rest secure in happy dreams 
 
 That thou beloved hand, hast brought to me.
 
 A LOVE STORY 23 
 
 AN EPIC OF THE CORN FIELDS. 
 
 We love the worlds great Epics, those records of great 
 deeds and greater men The Illiad. The Odessy, The Aeneid, 
 The Kalevala, the legends of the Rhine, the Sagas of the 
 Norsemen, the Greek and Roman Mythologies, Paradise Lost and 
 Regained, Dante and the folk songs of all peoples. When it 
 has the benediction of the ages upon it, Hiawatha will be the 
 great American Epic; all it lacks is the flavor and the tang of 
 time, it is history and it is saga, it is full of that subtle power 
 and grace and beauty that makes the Epic. Hiawatha is not 
 merely a record of the past; it lives and runs upon our farms, 
 inspired and inspiring. 
 
 The story of Mondamin is repeated every year upon our 
 fields. We receive the gift of "Gitchie Manitou, the Mighty," 
 to save the people. We make each year the bed so soft and 
 fine, and there we lay the beautiful Mondamin; and when the 
 sun and dew and rain have done their work and we have done 
 ours too, out of the dark earth comes the gift of God, the Indian 
 Maize or Corn, clad in beautiful garments of green and gold. 
 What more beautiful than the long green ribbons of the corn 
 fields; the plumy coronets that crown Mondamin's head, and 
 that shed the fructifying magic, that is caught in gold and 
 green and ruddy silken tassels that protect and warm the 
 tender embryo of the corn! The air is heavy with the perfume 
 of Mondamin's body as he does the work of God within our 
 fields. The corn is now fructified, now set in kernels, the 
 work runs on with rapid steps and when the first frosts, come 
 the miracle of life and growth and sun and rain and dew is all 
 accomplished, and the ripened corn is ready for the garner. 
 All over the land the horses trample the earth and draw the 
 treasures of the fields in great wagons to the store-houses. 
 There is peace and plenty when the corn is good. The cattle 
 are intoxicated with the odor of the grain, and their desire for 
 it, and they break out if not watched. The fowls and stock 
 hang round the graineries for the waste from the wagons, and 
 are happy. The world is fed, for American ships, and the ships 
 of other Nations carry our corn everywhere over the earth. 
 Corn kitchens at the great Inter-national Expositions call the
 
 24 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 world's attention to corn as food. Wheat flour is enriched by 
 the fine flour of the corn, and finds a ready market. Money 
 and riches of all sorts flow from Mondamin, the Indian Maize 
 that was the gift of God in answer to the prayers of Hiawatha, 
 who loved and prayed and suffered for his people, to save them 
 from hunger and starvation. Syrup and sugar and starch and 
 all sorts of things are made from the Indian corn, and corn stalks 
 and silk and peth. 
 
 As no land is like ours, so rich in outlook and uplift, so no 
 Epic is or can be like our Hiawatha with the story of the Corn. 
 I love to follow the men on my farm as their plough shares 
 cleave the mellow soil. I love to take my gentle and good team, 
 Dan and Don, and drive the drag and haul the harrow to and 
 fro across the fields, behind the plow men, and help to make 
 the bed all good and gracious for Mondamin. The horses are 
 obedient to my will I love them for it and they love me back 
 again. The sky sends blessings on me from above, the earth 
 beneath gives vigor to my frame. Like Antaeus, the earth is 
 my Mother, and when I touch her she strengthens me; the birds 
 singing in the trees and full of life refresh my soul. The hoot 
 of the owl on yonder tree is a love song as I know, and I am 
 glad I am a farmer. 
 
 I do not, like the Indian squaws at night, sans garments 
 walk my fields and drag my clothing after me and strive to 
 fructify the fields, but I drive the drag and harrow in the sun- 
 light and sometimes I walk the fresh ploughed earth in bare 
 feet which I suppose would suit old Father Kneipp as it suited 
 me; the warm soft earth is pleasant to my body and I am more 
 wholesome for it. 
 
 The Maize is genial to culture; planted early it is said to 
 bring the best result, but one can plant it later and reap a har- 
 vest. I had a bottom field that, contrary to almost everybody's 
 advice, I had my men plough and plant July 3rd and 4th one 
 year, and we had a bountiful yield; the corn was not quite hard 
 enough but we had hogs to feed it to, and that was fine for 
 them, and it would keep. Ninety day corn is a regular offering 
 from the seed men now. I enjoyed the work in the bottom, on 
 that field. I dragged and harrowed it well, the men plowed 
 and planted; the sky was so blue, the birds so gay, especially
 
 A LOVE STORY 25 
 
 the black birds and thrushes. It was a happy festival though 
 I was all alone one morning except for sky and sun and clouds 
 and trees and horses and birds. Who can yet tell all the story 
 of Mondamin? Not I. I see the miracle of life and growth 
 each year in the corn fields, and I marvel and wish I knew it 
 all. It makes me feel how much I have to learn and how little 
 I know. I am glad the boys everywhere in the land are delving 
 hard to find the secrets of the corn, and someday there may 
 come one who, like Hiawatha, will in an uplift of heart and 
 brain tell us many more of the wonders of the Maize or Indian 
 corn, of this wondrous Epic of America and of our fields.
 
 c 
 o
 
 A LOVE STORY 27 
 
 A CORN SONG. 
 
 A SONO OF PEACE. 
 
 Hist, hist, what is't I'm hearing 
 From far and near all through the land; 
 'Tis a drumming, and a drumming, and a drumming, 
 I hear it in the morning, I hear it at the noon, 
 I hear it in the tender even tide, 
 And I hear the noise of wagons, 
 And I hear the tramp of men 
 As the drumming, drumming, drumming greets 
 my ears. 
 
 Is it war has fallen upon us 
 
 That shall mow our children down, 
 
 That shall break the hearts of Mothers, wivesr^ 
 
 and maids? 
 
 Shall we hear the crack of rifles, 
 Shall we hear the boom of guns, 
 Shall we wring our hands and mourn our 
 
 loved ones dead? 
 Shall we hear the shrieks of men 
 And their moanings and their groanings, 
 With the scream and horrid whistle of the 
 
 shells? 
 
 No, thank God, 'tis not of carnage 
 
 That the gentle drumming tells; 
 
 'Tis an army that is peaceful 
 
 And it marches through our fields, 
 
 'Tis the drumming of the corn ears in the land, 
 
 As they fall in beds of wagons, 
 
 Plucked by busy hands of men, 
 
 'Tis a drumming that is peaceful, 
 
 'Tis a drumming that is good, 
 
 And tis peace and joy and plenty 
 
 For man and all his brood.
 
 28 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 The horses sleek and happy 
 Draw the wagons to and fro, 
 For the drumming of the corn ears 
 Is delight to them also, 
 They forget the toil and swelter 
 Of the days they drew the plough, 
 And they seem to feel the pleasure 
 Of the men they labor for. 
 And the drumming, drumming, drumming 
 brings to man and beast, both, good. 
 
 On the summits of the mountains 
 
 In those Holy Heights of God 
 
 Men shall gather, yes, shall gather 
 
 And receive the Holy Word; 
 
 "Beat your swords all into plough shares, 
 
 And your spears to pruning hooks," 
 
 For the day the Lord has spoken 
 
 Unto man is here and good. 
 
 And the drumming of the corn ears 
 
 Is the token far and near 
 
 That the day the Lord has spoken now is here. 
 
 Oh, war no more shall rend us, 
 
 For we've learned of Brotherhood; 
 
 We know we have one Father 
 
 And all his works are good. 
 
 We see him in the forest, 
 
 We see him in the land, 
 
 We lay hold of all his secrets 
 
 And the beauty of his mind, 
 
 Our Harvests speak His goodness, 
 
 Our All, is in His hands, 
 
 And the drumming of the corn ears 
 
 Is his Reveille to man.
 
 A LOVE STORY 29 
 
 PEACOCKS. 
 
 The Peacocks are older than man. Juno, the queen of 
 Heaven, had them always at her side to feast her mind and 
 eyes on their beauty, and to watch Jove with their hundred 
 eyes and gave her warning of a foe. When the Queen of 
 Sheba came to visit Solomon; she brought him gifts of pea- 
 cocks. Cleopatra's slaves stirred the air about her with gor- 
 geous peacock feather fans. The Peacocks saw the building 
 of the Pyramids, and of the great Wall of China. They woke 
 the echoes of the great Temples of Bood and Brahm in India 
 and Japan. The Taj Mahal made answer to their cries; 
 Mohamed heard their warnings; the Persian Satraps cultured 
 them. They graced the feasts of the Roman and Anglo Saxon 
 Kings decked with their gorgeous feathers. They have ranged 
 the earth in honor and exaltation since earliest times, and may 
 be found in all but the very cold regions of the world. ' 'Krishna 
 Mulvaney" killed ' 'Peacockses" in -the Indian jungles at the 
 peril of his life not long ago, for the Natives consider them a 
 sacred bird yet. The Peacock was used as a symbol of the 
 resurrection by the early Christians. A peacock carved on mar- 
 ble was often seen upon their tombs in Roman cemeteries. It 
 was often venerated with the blessed Virgin by Chivalrous 
 Christian knights who made vows to them. 
 
 I have a number of these wonderful birds of time upon my 
 farm. They are as good watchmen, as when Juno used them 
 to watch old Jove and the other Gods and Godesses. No one 
 can come upon my place without the Peacocks giving warning, 
 and my neighbors far away on other farms can hear them too. 
 When the dogs bark, the roosters yell, the guineas screech, the 
 turkies gobble and the peacocks scream their loud alarum, there 
 is a noise that shocks intruders and it awakens the farm folks 
 far and near. 
 
 I do not need to buy jewels, for my peacocks bring me the 
 living hues, the color of them all save two. The ruby, saphire, 
 topaz, amethyst, emerald, moonstone, turquoise, jade, garnet, 
 tourmaline, agate, jacynth, and all the precious stones glitter 
 and shimmer and shift and shine in the gorgeous plumage of 
 my birds. I only miss the sparkle of the diamond and the
 
 30 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 soft luster of the Pearl. The ensemble of this marvelous bird 
 of birds is unsurpassed. Their manners are lordly and the 
 dainty crowns they wear upon their heads proclaim their high 
 estate. One never tires of gazing at the rich plumage, the 
 gorgeous hues on back, neck, tail, wing and breast and head. 
 We look again at Argus with his hundred eyes. Their legs are 
 clothed in dainty fawn; the feet and lower part of the legs is 
 dark and clean and handsome. The feet of the Peacocks are 
 not ugly as some say, nor do they drop their feathers when they 
 look at them; they are as fine and tidy as the patent leathers 
 of a gentleman. 
 
 To see a Peacock strut is a sight worth going a days journey 
 to enjoy. The Peacock room Whistler painted is fine no doubt, 
 but the living subject, not in dull paints but glittering and shin- 
 ing like a great jewel, cannot be reproduced by any painter's 
 art. I'd rather own one Peacock than twenty painted rooms, 
 or representations of one. The Peacock furls and unfurls his 
 tail sometimes five and six feet in diameter; he flirts it like a 
 Coquet's fan; he shakes it till every feather is in motion and 
 in a glitter, he spreads its glory in full measure, and bows his 
 neck and turns his head in just pride from side to side and 
 downward to look upon himself; and then he dances; he stiffens 
 all his quills and plays the music for the dance himself. The 
 hens walk slowly to and fro before him and around him, but 
 always so he can see them as he struts. Now and then he raises 
 his head, bows his neck and with a wild cry, challenges the 
 world to show his match. Peacocks strut before their tails are 
 fully grown, and before the mating season, and after; they do 
 not make a special strut for that. Their parading is as much a 
 part of them as their feathers; they seem to know they are of 
 high estate. The females lay from four to seven eggs in June; 
 they hide their nest, as a rule, though now and then they con- 
 descend to make nests in the secret places of the yards; they 
 are shy breeders and lay and set but once each season. The 
 young ones look like little turkeys at first, and the mother keeps 
 them out of sight for a while, and they keep well under her 
 body, always, and take to the trees with her at night. Not 
 many are raised, and it's "Hands off" with them, they manage 
 their own affairs.
 
 A LOVE STORY 31 
 
 I bought a pair of Peacocks once and kept them in a large 
 wire cage in town to see them strut. They flourished well in 
 confinement and gave others, as well as myself, great pleasure 
 to watch them. The male had much to do for there were so 
 many noises to make protest to. The men and boys on the 
 street he often startled by his sudden and terrific shriek, and 
 they would laugh and say he screamed "Carrie Nation and 
 Prohibition" and other modern things, and they would mock 
 him and set him off again. He made much fun, and preached 
 good sermons too. On my farm we gentle our Peacocks and 
 they would eat out of my hand if it were not for the cats and 
 dogs that want to share their feeding; the Peacocks share with 
 none of these common folks. Sometimes they strut to me. A 
 young one with a half grown tail one day paraded to me as I 
 sat on my door step. "Red Budder", a young dog, thought 
 he'd love me a little too and so he started to come to my side; 
 but the Peacock ran at him and threatened him, and "Red 
 Budder" ran behind the sawdust shed and peeked around the 
 corner at me and to see if the Peacock was still there. 
 
 There are but two species of peacocks, the Javanese, and 
 the pavo crystalus, which is distributed over the world, and 
 which is the kind that is famous and to which mine belong. 
 Not only was the peacock Juno's bird; but it was claimed by 
 Pan, when the Greeks rated that God with Zeus, and Apollo. 
 The music the Peacock makes with his quills when strutting, 
 is called the "Melody of Pan". He was so fine all the Gods 
 wanted to claim him, but he was Juno's bird. Pagans and 
 Christians alike paid homage and veneration to peacocks in the 
 long, long ago. 
 
 It is said Cleopatra once dazzled the natives and Marc 
 Anthony, at a great festival, by being borne in state amid a 
 flock of a thousand gorgeous peacocks, each one of which wore 
 a tiny golden bell which tinkled as her slaves kept them in or- 
 der about her golden litter in magnificent splendor. 
 
 I do not find the Peacock and ill omened bird, in spite of 
 what some say. He is a thing of joy and beauty, and loves to 
 strut besides the tulip beds, as gorgeous as they are, and his 
 pride becomes him and his mate, who sometimes struts and 
 spreads her wirey tail. His watchful qualities become him too.
 
 32 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 They sometimes get upon a roof of the house and peek into my 
 windows; so he is just like his mates in Juno's day. I delight 
 to have him range my gardens and my fields and forests a 
 great live jewel of a bird, in glorious beauty from God's hand, 
 and a symbol of the hope of Immortality.
 
 A LOVE STORY 33 
 
 HOW OLD ARE YOU. 
 
 / am as old as the oldest man, for I knoiv as much as he; I 
 am as young as the babe neiv born, for I know just as little as 
 it does. 
 
 How old are you? is the question that is asked of everybody. 
 Now I do not know how old I am, nor how old anybody is, so I 
 might as well confess it. 
 
 David, in the 139th Psalm said God knew him; he says; 
 41 My substance was not hid from thee when I was made in secret 
 and curiously wrough in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine 
 eyes did see my substance yet being imperfect; and in thy Book 
 all my members were written, which in continuance were fash- 
 ioned, when as yet there was none of them." David knew when 
 he began in The Beginning; and we all of us began just 
 where David did, and are just as old as David is, and we are 
 all of the same age, just as old, just as young. Hence, I will 
 not tell you how old I am nor how old you are. You must work 
 out the problem for yourself, but I know I am as old as the old- 
 est man, and as young as the babe new born for I know as 
 much as the one and as little as the other. When the rocks 
 reared their rugged heads above the great deep, and the ele- 
 ments beat upon them, and the sun triturated them, the soil 
 was formed and the plants came, and after the plants came the 
 animals, and after the animals man ; and David and you and I 
 and all of us began with our first ancestors then and there, so 
 we are very, very old; we have already lived Eons. 
 
 Mr. Darwin claimed to be the first teacher of Evolution, 
 and he denied God. I do not think so. David was the first who 
 taught the doctrine and he acknowledged God. Emerson wrote 
 ten years before Darwin on Evolution, as follows: 
 
 "A Countless Chain of endless rings, the next unto the 
 farthest brings, and striving to be man, the worm mounts 
 through all the spires of form"; and, "The poor grass shall plot 
 and plan what it will do when it is man". 
 
 Emerson, like David, declared God. Darwin elaborated the 
 theory of Evolution; David and Emerson taught it first. The 
 theory of evolution has done much to take the educated classes
 
 34 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 away from the idea of God. Since the Evolutionists have 
 looked in vain for the "Missing Link" they have searched all 
 the fossil beds of the earth; and since they have such fond 
 faith in that, it seems to me they might have a little faith in 
 a power which made men and Evolution. The doctrine of 
 Evolution has never troubled me. Like Paul, I cannot find 
 the mystery hid in the smallest seed, and since "the wind 
 bloweth where it listeth and no man knoweth whence it 
 cometh or whither it goeth, " and I cannot for the life of me 
 tell how old I am, or you are, nor just how I come to be or how 
 anything is, I go back to David who taught first of Evolution 
 and of God, and who knows more then all the men educated in 
 our great Institutions, Munsterburg, James, Sidis, and all the 
 rest included. If we can't define the Fourth Dimension, we 
 can say as Franklin did about Electricity, It is. I follow Emer- 
 son who said: 
 
 "The Hand that rounded Peter's dome 
 And groined the aisles of Ancient Rome, 
 Wroughlin a sad sincerety, 
 Himself from God he could not free. 
 
 "These Temples grew as grows the grass; 
 
 Art might obey but not surpass; 
 
 The Passive Master lent his hand 
 
 To the Vast Soul that "o'er him planned." 
 
 So I ask again "How old are you"? And leave you to 
 answer the question your own way." 
 
 In his work on the senile heart Dr. Balfour, says the Medi- 
 cal Times of New York 1895, tells us that there are two parts 
 of the human organism which, wisely used, escape senile fail- 
 ure. These two are the heart and the brain. The normal brain, 
 he affirms, remains vigorous to the last because it's nutrition 
 is specially provided for. The internal carotids which supply 
 the capillary areas of the brain, those large vessels continue to 
 retain their pristine elasticity, so that the blood pressure re- 
 mains normally higher than within tne capillaries of any other 
 organs of the body. The cerebral blood paths being thus kept 
 open, the brain tissue is kept better nourished than the other 
 tissues of the body, and similarly of the heart". Who can ex-
 
 A LOVE STORY 35 
 
 \ 
 
 plain it? The mind, the spirit and the heart, the brain, the 
 body in toto? Is it not here indicated that, as Paul said, the 
 body is the living Temple of the Holy Ghost? Paul Du Bois in- 
 cidentally teaches that the Psychic rises above the mere Phy- 
 siologic in his "Psychic Treatment of Nervous Diseases" also 
 Dr. Alfred Schofield teaches the same, indeed he goes much 
 farther. High thinking conserves the body, as the body in 
 turn conserves the brain and heart, the super-man in fact. 
 \Vhat a magnificent thought! And the heart, nourished with 
 affection and not abused by evil thinking and living, is the 
 greatest nourisher of the brain! Evolution can not explain 
 that! I cannot find words, nor do I know enough to express 
 myself; but I feel like the devout Catholic, when before the 
 altar he bends the knee and crosses himself in adoration. 
 
 Simeon and Anna, a man and woman old in years, minis- 
 tered in the Temple when Joseph and Mary brought Jesus there 
 for acceptance. The aged man and woman, we are told, were 
 filled with the "Holy Ghost," and blessed the child and his par- 
 ents, and prophesied over them. They were at the time of life 
 when we lay our old men and women to one side and consider 
 making an end of them. But these two were in full vigor and 
 serving in the highest place. I often wonder if the reason why 
 so many of our old people fail is because they are not fit for the 
 "indwelling of the spirit. " How much we all need the old men 
 and women who are Holy, filled with the Holy Ghost. The 
 brain and the heart are so thoroughly provided with power for 
 the highest tasks in age, we can safely reason that in the na- 
 ture of a man the body must be obedient to nature's laws, that 
 the brain may rise to its best in age. This is not chance, this 
 is not Evolution this is not science, it is something higher than 
 either; and man needs God and the Hope of immortal life which 
 grow out of this faith. All our forces of body and mind con- 
 verge to that end and the Providence that shapes us is appar- 
 ent. 
 
 Tennyson was eighty-four years old; the world had given 
 him everything, but he said "I want to know more about God". 
 
 Humbolt finished the Cosmos at ninety years. Michael 
 Eugene Chevreul, a French Scientist, made original discoveries
 
 36 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 in light at ninety years or more, he passed from the body when 
 103 years of age. 
 
 Goethe finished "Faust" at eighty- four. John Quincy 
 Adams entered Congress when full of years and honors. Neal 
 Dow was ninety-three years old when he took his daughter's 
 hand, called he "Mother", said "Now I lay me down to sleep", 
 and shut his eyes forever. How old were they ? Oh very old and 
 very, very young; like the Holy Angels, and also like little 
 children. 
 
 How many shipwrecks we should escape if our old men and 
 women were filled with God's spirit. It is the nature of things 
 that the heart and brain do not decay if we are obedient to the 
 best we can conceive of God, so they should serve too like Simeon 
 and Anna in the temple. 
 
 To say forgetfulness is a sign of failure of power in age, is 
 nothing. At twenty years how much have we got on hand to 
 remember? At thirty, forty and fifty years and sixty and 
 seventy my! how much has piled upon us, and we have to 
 skirmish around among our memories and refresh them before 
 we get what we are after. Courts allow us to ' 'refresh our 
 memories". We have not forgotten; we only have to hunt 
 things up from among the infinitude of things stacked and 
 piled on memories' shelves. 
 
 There is a promise of long life to those who are obedient to 
 God's laws, and the Psalmist voices it "The Righteous shall 
 still bring rich fruit in old age". Julia Ward Howe, Susan B. 
 Anthony, Clara Barton are samples. The special arrangement 
 for the nourishment of brain and heart in the human being, is 
 in harmony with this declaration; and the promise that long 
 life is desirable is found in these words "With long life will I 
 satisfy him" (the righteous). The desire for life seems inherent 
 in us. Everybody ought to live to see the work he plans fin- 
 ished; to die before this time is what makes death so great a 
 sorrow. I know men and women for whom death has no ter- 
 rors because they say "My work is done". "Age is oppor- 
 tunity no less than 'youth itself", says Longfellow, "and as the 
 evening twilight fades away the sky is filled with stars not seen 
 by day". In "Morituri Salutamis" he gives a list of men called
 
 A LOVE STORY 37 
 
 old who outran men in their prime in intellectual attainments. 
 Conserve thy forces every one, 
 It lifts thee to the Heights, 
 And thou shalt God-like be, 
 And full of power to do, and bless, 
 And with long life be satisfied. 
 
 It does not not signify how old we are.
 
 38 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE GOLDEN WEDDING. 
 
 1833-1883. 
 
 It is the day of days in all the years 
 
 That comes but to the favored happy pair, 
 
 Who cross life's limit of three score and ten, 
 
 In marriage ties accepted in their youth; 
 
 The type of truest marriage and its best. 
 
 Our Lord has set through all the world He made 
 
 The dual perfectness of two in one, 
 
 And one in two, that life might be, and bless. 
 
 One God, one wife, one husband tangles run 
 
 Through all the warp and woof of life if this is not. 
 
 Oh happy pair, who sit to-day in state" 
 
 With silver crowns, that glorify the head 
 
 Not weight it down with fear, or care, or fret 
 
 Life has poured out its fullness at thy feet. 
 
 Down the dim avenues of time ye look, 
 
 And see the past, with all its joys and griefs, 
 
 And fears, wave like a misty curtain pale 
 
 That now, seems woven full of golden threads, 
 
 That catch the blessed glow and shine of peace. 
 
 And glint and glitter in this golden day, 
 
 Youth's toil and fret, its fierce impatience passed 
 
 The fears and hopes of later years fulfilled, 
 
 Now cometh age, with wisdom and with peace 
 
 That reads and understands life's lessons clear. 
 
 What once did seem a tangled web of care, 
 
 Is now a "Cloth of Gold" glittering and fair, 
 
 Love, faith and hope are seated now serene 
 
 Within your souls: and all to thee is well. 
 
 Around you come to greet the day your children, 
 
 And your children's children; men and women, 
 
 Youths and maidens, and the little ones, 
 
 All with the offering of affection laden, 
 
 To grace and joy the day, and bless the happy 
 
 Grandsire, and Grandame, whose Golden Day it is. 
 
 Some are not here, but wait in the beyond 
 
 Their memories to-day be sweet, not sad;
 
 A LOVE STORY 39 
 
 Perhaps unseen they pour sweet harmonies 
 
 Along the trembling currents of your souls. 
 
 Old friends and neighbors come and press 
 
 Your hand in theirs, rejoicing in your joy, 
 
 As erst they joyed or sorrowed with you when 
 
 Life was all forward, and not backward looking; 
 
 The silver of the years has gently fallen 
 
 On them as upon you: the foot prints of 
 
 The days are seen on brow, and cheek, and chin; 
 
 The eye's bright light has dimmed; the ear is dull; 
 
 The strong, staunch muscles that in labor bent 
 
 Are shrunken; and the active tread is slow; 
 
 But the old hearts are golden with their memories, 
 
 And the brain is rich in Wisdom's ripened stores; 
 
 Life's crucible has tried and tested worth, 
 
 And burned away the dross. 
 
 Kindred and friends, and neighbors old and new 
 
 Bring their best wishes to the honored pair, 
 
 This day a full half century wed, and who, 
 
 In all their days have travelled side by side 
 
 In fair and stormy weather, faithful, fond and true; 
 
 And standing now as they who gaze upon the closing 
 
 Of a lovely day, when all the scene about, 
 
 Is bathed in radiance of the setting sun; 
 
 And they who watch and wait are lifted up 
 
 In soul, and shine in beauty, 
 
 Knowing that when their day orb sets and pales 
 
 There cometh greater joy, in full glory, 
 
 Of the Eternal Morning.
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 BEGINNINGS. 
 
 On one side of my house were red-headed, high spirited 
 religious Scotch Irish Ancestors, full of energy and high no- 
 tions, of good stock and well to do. On the other, hard work- 
 ing men and women of all sorts, housekeepers of good German 
 breed, teachers, mechanics and general business men and 
 women of good character, high spirited and religious, the most 
 of them. I have never had time to stop doing to indulge some 
 dear ambitions of mine. There is so much to be done 'and no 
 one need be idle a moment. 
 
 A few episodes of my doings are here recorded, but it would 
 take many books to tell all. What I had, I gave to my day and 
 to the people I knew and to the children I taught, and I feel 
 satisfied that God will answer my constant prayer, "Bless the 
 works of my heart and hands and head". I know the meaning 
 of the old saying ' 'Paul plants, Apollos waters, but God giveth 
 the increase" to Him I leave it all. I remember that "With 
 God a thousand years is as a day" I do the best I can, my part 
 of the thousand years work and can die content, knowing the 
 Lord needs it and will count it. My joy in it, I have had as I 
 went along. This is a grand world all that we need is for 
 men and women to be good and the Millenium will be on hand 
 shortly. 
 
 MY REVOLUTIONARY GREAT GRANDMOTHER 
 HENRIETTA MARIA COLTS FISHBURN.
 
 A LOVE STORY 41 
 
 THE CONSOLATION OF THE GRASS, 
 
 We seed our fields with grass, and what richness and variety 
 we do find here Annual Grasses, Bienial Grasses, Perenial 
 Grasses, food for beast, food for man, grasses for grazing, 
 grasses for permanent meadows, for the hay fields, for the hot- 
 dry places and for the wet low places, for the hillside, 
 for the valleys, wild and tame grasses, scented grasses, 
 plumy headed grasses, and ornamental grasses for our lawns 
 and parks -and fence corners. I often wish I had a life to live 
 that I could devote to a study of the grasses. Some grasses 
 grow like the kindly weeds, only after the foot of man has trod 
 the earth long time; the tame grasses, as we call them, ulti- 
 mately root out the wild grasses. As the heavenly virtues 
 weed out and crowd out the wild and unlawful traits in the 
 heart of man, so the tame grasses crowd out the wild kinds 
 
 I once, on a holy Sabbath morning, went to hold a Temper- 
 ance meeting in a Country Church. My little team was all right 
 and took me nicely, but I thought I did not feel real well that 
 morning, and I wanted someone to go with me, but I had to go 
 alone, and I felt hurt somehow and downcast. I knew that 
 where I was going the sentiment was unfriendly and I should 
 have but few to give the message to. I was in a desolate mood 
 and I shed a few tears; the fight in me seemed to have evapor- 
 ated. I had to trail along a creek bottom road and it had been 
 travelled a long time although it was an unworked road and 
 bushy; but men and cattle together had tramped it for years. 
 As I gazed moodily at the ground, I saw something that cheered 
 me mightily and gave me grace and courage. I saw that the 
 tame grasses had taken the wild grasses! Ah, I had a message 
 there from God; it seemed to cheer me, and it said "always it 
 is so, the wild and the evil must perish before the good and 
 the true; as the feet of men and cattle have tramped this little 
 valley road, the wild things and grasses have yielded to the 
 law and the sweeter, better, permanent grasses have come. 
 Just so they who take the wild hearts and minds of men and 
 women and trample them with the good and true, tramp the 
 evil out, it will, it must yield to the Good that Ultimate of the
 
 42 A FARM PHILOSOPHER] 
 
 Universe and Creation". "I was uplift". I told the little com- 
 pany I met the story of my drive and of the grasses, and I saw 
 reflected in each face a recognition of the truth that had come 
 to me. It was of God; I gave it to them as a sacrament and He 
 in whom we live and move and have our being, blessed it. So 
 our grasses teach us the grand things of Life and of God, 
 and Consolation.
 
 A LOVE STORY 43 
 
 THE SPARROW. 
 
 Light as the brown leaves fluttering in the air 
 The sparrow flits in fearless grace along 
 The city's crowded streets, no carking care 
 Clouds the brief space of what man calls his life- 
 Careless and free, he leaves the pleasant way 
 Of verdant fields; and bosky scented shades, 
 And in the smoke and heat he seems to say,, 
 "I am man's faithful, cheerful little friend". 
 
 Upon the fountain's mossy mantled brim, 
 He sits and sips, and laves his mottled dress, 
 And lifts his voice in pure delight to Him 
 Who all unheeded will not let him fall. 
 
 When chill cold winter's winds and bitter snow, 
 Shall stint his store of food, and chill his breast, 
 The children from the doors and windows throw, 
 A generous feast with childish happiness. 
 
 Perchance some weary toiler as he treads 
 His way with tired brain and lagging feet, 
 May find his heart uplifted, and his needs 
 Bear lighter, when he hears thee twittering near. 
 
 Thrive then, oh, little friend, as thou wilt 
 Choose thine own home, and rear thy tender brood, 
 All the grand structures which proud man hath built, 
 He lets to thee forever, as thine own.
 
 44 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE WAY OF SORROWS. 
 
 Sometimes I think God would be sorry for his children on 
 this earth. Life is no joke, nor a "Rose Garden", as some one 
 has said. Paul calls it a "battle" and ' minds" us to "Acquit 
 ourselves as good Soldiers". "Life is real, life is earnest" a 
 sweet poet of our own tells us; Oh how brave and determined 
 we must be not to be overcome by the sorrows and afflictions 
 of our lives. So many are overcome by life's heaviness and 
 grief, and fall and perish of them. 
 
 Those who have endured and looked upward grow int a 
 sweet patience and resignation it seems to me that begins to 
 shine in the countenance, mirror itself in the figure and emanate 
 from the presence, a power and sweetness, and a charm which 
 is God like, I marvel at it. There are those who take their af- 
 flictions in such a fashion that their presence becomes a cross 
 and a grief, and an injury to themselves and others. There is 
 neither charm nor beauty in face or figure, and we endure their 
 presence and get away from it as soon as possible with decency. 
 
 Griefs, crosses, afflictions, disappointments, we all have as 
 a heritage; each year we live brings more, and the longer we 
 live the more we must suffer. It is hard to reconcile oneself to 
 it, the heart grows numb with the heavy blows that fall upon it. 
 We can say together "Oh sorrow, cruel fellowship" for none, 
 escape. 
 
 The long, long nights drag on. Ah, the nights when sleep 
 forsakes us, and- our thoughts run to and fro to torment us 
 with memories of what was, and that can be no more here. In 
 the night time I called my beloved and talked with them; to 
 them I confessed my sins; sins of commission, sins of omission; 
 it seemed to me I always received absolution from them all, and 
 a blessing that was a sacrament to the spirit and the body. It 
 pleased me in these long lonely hours of the night to call upon 
 the Holy Angels for ministration, and it came. I called my 
 Guardian Angel and asked for consolation at her will. The 
 deep desire, the prayer, the humbling of myself brought com- 
 fort and blessing, and visions of a reunion wherein all we have 
 here is like a shadow of that Great Reality. An old German out
 
 A LOVE STORY 45 
 
 of his sorrow wrote a song I often repeat: 
 
 "Pain's furnace heat within me quivers, 
 God's breath upon the flame doth blow 
 And all my heart within me shivers 
 And trembles in the fiery glow. 
 And yet I murmur as God wills, 
 And in his hottest fire hold still. 
 I would not murmur at the sorrow 
 Which only longer lived would be. 
 The end may come and that to-morrow 
 When God has wrought his will in me 
 And yet I murmur as God wills 
 And in his hottest fire hold still."
 
 46 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 UNFORGOTTEN. 
 
 O tender, loving friends, whom Death's dark hand 
 Hath torn from aching hearts that grieve and mourn, 
 Ye come to us from out the Shadowland, 
 To comfort and to bless our days forlorn. 
 
 In dreams, in happy dreams, ye come again; 
 Your voices mingle with the Spring's soft breath; 
 And echoes ring of all that might have been 
 Had ye and we escaped the ban of Death. 
 
 Your presence stirs the pulses of the air, 
 We reach to feel the pressure of your hand, 
 Alas! in pain and woe, and in despair, 
 Is felt the empty space at our demand. 
 
 In dainty garments richly 'broidered o'er, 
 The mother robes again the little one 
 They carried weeping through the open door, 
 Its sweet hands folded, and its life all done. 
 
 The incense of some Summer-breathing flowers 
 Hath vanquished time and swept the past away; 
 The comrade of our childhood's blessed hours 
 Had crowned us with those blossoms in his play. 
 
 Ye see an imprint on a snowy couch, 
 
 A feeble form within the easy chair; 
 
 Feel murmured blessings with the gentle touch 
 
 Once laid a fleeting moment on your hair. 
 
 Loved voices sound a warning though afar, 
 When evil tempts or passion leads astray; 
 The father and the mother point the star 
 That guides us upward to the better way. 
 
 Oh! precious unforgotten shall ye be 
 
 Till Earth enfolds us in her kindly breast; 
 
 Then, in the light of immortality, 
 
 Heart beat to heart, and face to face shall see.
 
 A LOVE STORY 47 
 
 HYMNS OF ALL NATIONS. 
 
 "You should hear him, (the American) stand up and sing: 
 My country 'tis of thee, 
 Sweet land of Liberty, 
 Of thee we sing. 
 
 There must be born a poet who shall give the English a song 
 of their own Country. A paean that shall combine the terrible 
 slow swing of the Battle Hymn of the Republic, with that perfect 
 quickstep, Marching Through Georgia, ivith Brittania Needs No 
 Bulwarks, the skirl of The British Grenadiers, and the wail of 
 The Dead March. Kipling. 
 
 "Now America is the Continent of glories, and of the 
 triumph of freedom, and of the Democracies, and of the futures 
 of Society, and of all that is begun." -Walt. Whitman. 
 
 It is of profound interest to note the evolution of Man in 
 the growth of what we call National Hymns. Savages and 
 Pagan people have no National Hymns, nor do any people under 
 the despotic rule of Kings posess them. 
 
 When Kings and Queens began to own allegiance to God, 
 in common with their people, men began to have rights, and 
 when people began to have rights they began to sing, and 
 National Hymns were born. 
 
 England has "God Save the King", or Queen. Germany has 
 "Die Wacht am Rhine". France the terrible "Marseilles". 
 Austria, Russia, Italy, Spain, Holland and other European lands 
 sing the praise of God under the King or Queen. America, 
 free America sings "America", "The Red, White and Blue", 
 "The Star Spangled Banner", "Hail Columbia", "The Battle 
 Hymn of the Republic'' and other hymns of similar import, if 
 of less value. 
 
 The English laud the King or Queen under God; Germany's 
 hymn, "Die Wacht am Rhine", like the music of Wag%ner, is 
 pagan. It has love and fidelity to the Father land, but not a 
 word of God, or any reference to Him in it. "Ein Feste Burg 
 ist Unser Gott" is not a National Hymn, for only the protest- 
 ants of Germany sing it, neither Catholics nor Socialists sing it 
 or claim it. The French Marseilles is full of the fury of an
 
 48 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 outraged humanity that calls not upon God, but upon war and 
 rapine and murder. In it we hear the roll of the war drum, 
 the rattle of musketry, the boom of the cannon, the screech of 
 shells, the screams of the wounded and dying, the terrible cry 
 for revenge; the horrors of the Guillotine and Commune saturate 
 it. France has not yet produced any other National Hymn, 
 nor is she likely to, for she denies God. 
 
 American Free Masons do not recognize the French Masonic 
 order, for it denies there is One to whom all peoples should 
 give allegiance God. 
 
 American civilization is a product of the best religious cul- 
 ture of the old world and the new; our people are homogenious. 
 We build our foundations on Trust in God, our National Hymns 
 express it. Our National Hymns are all full of trust in God, 
 and our people all sing them together. 
 
 "Our Father's God to Thee, 
 
 Author of Liberty to Thee we sing 
 
 Long may our land be bright 
 
 With Freedom's holy light, 
 
 Protect us by Thy might 
 
 Great God our King." 
 "The Star Spangled Banner" with its 
 
 ' 'Then conquer we must 
 
 For Our Cause it is just, 
 
 And this be our motto, 
 
 In God is our Trust". 
 
 "The Red, White and Blue" or "Columbia the Gem of the 
 Ocean", "Hail Columbia", that great Lyric "The Battle Hymn 
 of the Republic", with "Our God is Marching on," and all our 
 Hymns of which there are so many, express the firm Trust of 
 our people in God; He is the fundament of our civilization. In 
 this we are unique; no Nations sing songs like we of American 
 Civilization, which is founded on Trust in God as a solid founda- 
 tion. * 
 
 The D. A. R. is a strong National and State aggregation of 
 women and full of vim. I belong; and I wonder often, why, 
 instead of spending so much time on the glories of the past, we 
 do not go into the legislatures of every State and into the 
 territories and ask law r s making it obligatory that the children
 
 A LOVE STORY 49 
 
 in all our schools shall be required to memorize, and then to 
 sing our National Hymns regularly each week till, when our 
 people meet and the bands strike up or the music is played, 
 everybody can and will sing together; on Fourth of July, Flag 
 Day, Decoration Day and many other National Holidays. That 
 would be a magnificent chorus, and a magnificent work to 
 bring it to pass, and it would increase patriotism and homoge- 
 niousness. The earth and the sea would shake with the volume 
 of that sound. We ought all to "know by heart" the words 
 and melody's of "America", "The Star Spangled Banner", 
 "Hail Columbia", "Columbia the Gem of the Ocean" and 
 "The Battle Hymn of the Republic". On our National Holidays 
 the whole land could sing together at once, making allowances 
 for the difference in time. America is the Land of Promise to all 
 the Nations of the earth. A Congressman, much opposed to 
 foreign immigration, took a European trip. On the way back 
 he came in a ship laden with steerage passengers, foreigners. 
 As the first dim outlines of America appeared, he heard all 
 these foreign people singing or trying to sing; the melody was 
 not perfect but it appeared they sang in joy and thankgiving and 
 with full hearts "America". Tears filled his eyes, his heart 
 rose in his throat, he tore up the bill he was proposing to intro- 
 duce against imigration and threw it into the sea. 
 
 The Japanese, who remodeled their Constitution on ours, 
 who sent their children to be taught in American schools, 
 whipped Pagan "Adam Zad" when all the Nations feared to 
 touch him, and did it thoroughly, and sing our Hymns. 
 
 In Manilla Bay Admiral Dewey Conquered the Spanish 
 fleet in short order, and American thought was planted in the 
 far ends of the earth. The sea was calm at Manilla; at Santi- 
 ago the world gathered at that sea fight, and a storm raged; 
 and Cerveras fleet perished, in calm and storm they perished; 
 and the war which our Nation began for humanity's sake, that 
 was supported by a faith and trust in God, upholding right 
 and justice, conquered and for humanity. All the Nations of 
 the earth who had despised us, and the most of them did, 
 after these two battles took America for a pattern, and on land 
 and see their armies moved up to align with ours, and we be- 
 came The World Power as well as the worlds' pattern, in many
 
 50 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 large ways because behind it all under it all stood that Trust in 
 God; as a people we sang of Freedom and Trust in God to- 
 gether. 
 
 Our money expresses the same thought, and we stamp it 
 all, gold and silver, with the words "In God We Trust". When- 
 ever people trust in God, their hearts beat with ours and they 
 can sing our National Hymns with us. We have a great destiny, 
 that we need to be faithful to. 
 
 The Jews, through the ages, persecuted and robbed, have 
 in the long, long years of their suffering been given control of 
 the world's wealth, so that now they make and unmake peoples. 
 No one can unmake America. It is the home of the Jew. They 
 say "America is the only home we have". The wealth of the 
 world is theirs and no Nation can command that wealth against 
 America. America can command it all. In all their synago- 
 gues in America during the Spanish American War, prayers 
 were said for America, during the Wars' continuance. Every- 
 where, the world over, during that war we were remembered 
 by name by this old and holy people of God. Our National 
 Hymns are their Hymns wherever they are on earth. Is there 
 fulfilment of prophesy in this? 
 
 It was once attempted, not long ago, to strike from our 
 coins the inscription "In God we trust", but our people rose up 
 against it as one man, and denounced the attempt, and made it 
 out of the power of any one person to do that again. The new 
 coins when struck would not stack. The expensive machinery 
 made to stamp them was ordered destroyed; the new coins were 
 ordered in and reminted. they were a laughing stock to etholo- 
 gists and others, because of absurdities in the heads upon them. 
 It seemed a Providence all through; and our Coins still bear the 
 stamp "In God We Trust", it expresses the" fundament on 
 which we built and build, Trust in God. It is an ultimate ab- 
 solute idea; it reminds us also that "The Gold and Silver are 
 the Lord's" and that we should use it as His Stewards. When 
 Jesus was on earth he asked to whom tribute should be paid. 
 He asked for a coin; it bore the superscription of Caesar, as all 
 coins then and now, except in America, bear the name and bust 
 of the Ruler. It was never intended any of our American coins 
 should be know as the coin of any head of the government, and
 
 A LOVE STORY 51 
 
 the attempt to change our coins and remove the "Trust in God" 
 from them failed, and Congress made a law at once forbidding 
 any change in our coins except by Congress itself, which repre- 
 sents all our people. 
 
 We need not fear our foreign people if we are true to our- 
 selves. Zekariah once reminded the Israelites that if they 
 were faithful to God's laws that "Ten men out of ten Nations 
 would take hold of the skirt of him who is a Jew, and say, 
 'We will go with Thee for we see that God is with Thee' ". 
 When America ceases to license saloons and harlotry and gamb- 
 ling dens and devices of evil, she will strengthen herself through 
 her foreign peoples who will fortify her virtues as they now sing 
 her hymns. We corrupt many of our foreign people and they in 
 turn corrupt us. The fault is with us. The spirit of God broods 
 over America, because we have declared our Trust in Him. We 
 are nearer right than the other Nations of the earth, though we 
 do many evil things and refuse to right wrongs to women and 
 children and God punishes us for that but we sing together. 
 America is the youngest of the Nations, but her flag is the old- 
 est. Other Nations have changed their flags but ours stands un- 
 changed from the beginning except for the stars we add to it 
 from time to time. What food for thought is here in poesy, 
 romance, philosophy, religion and prophecy, for America. We 
 have a great Country surely, grounded in the love of God, in 
 the love of Man, and in a supreme trust in the Creator God. 
 No Nations sing together and of God as we do. Our National 
 Hymns tell the story, our people all sing them together. In God 
 We Trust. Selah. 
 
 JEWISH WAR PRAYER FOR USE IN ALL TEMPLES. DURING THE 
 SPANISH AMERICAN WAR 1898. 
 
 (Taken from the Chicago Tribune May llth, 1898.) 
 
 Commencing next Saturday the following "War Prayer" 
 will be used in all Orthodox Jewish temples thoughout the 
 country during the existence of the war with Spain: 
 
 "0, merciful and gracious King, God of Gods and Lords of 
 Lords, in thy hands is the soul of every living creature and the 
 spirit of every human being, look down from Thy holy dwelling 
 from Heaven, save, we beseech Thee, thy servants the Ameri-
 
 52 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 can nation, who dwell in these United States, who adhere to 
 the teachings of Thy beneficent attributes, to do good to mor- 
 tal beings, to show compassion to those who are formed by Thy 
 hand, and who risk their lives as they do this day, to shed their 
 blood like water in this war which duty commands, to deliver 
 the Cuban people, who sigh and groan beneath the hand of the 
 relentless and cruel Spanish Nation, who have thirsted for 
 human blood from the days of old. 
 
 "0, Lord of compassion, we pray Thee; pity and have mercy 
 upon our forces on land and sea, and give them strength and 
 courage to stand before the power of our enemies and to subdue 
 the pride of those who rise against us, that they, our hosts, re- 
 turn not in defeat 0, do Thou avert that! with head bent 
 downward and faces shamed. 
 
 May Thy loving kindness uphold and support us with Thy 
 right hand, to deliver the Cubans who are oppressed and af- 
 flicted by their persecutors, and to proclaim freedom for them 
 in order that they also may enjoy the glow of enlightenment 
 and freedom which Thou hast apportioned to us, sons of these 
 United States, with Thy full, open, holy extended hand. 
 
 We implore Thee, prosper our ways that no sickness, mis- 
 fortune, mishaps, or evil accidents may befall us. Bring our 
 ships to desired havens and lead us by silent waters. Graci- 
 ously bestow of Thy knowledge, understanding, and wisdom on 
 our authorities, councilors, and commanders, that they may suc- 
 ceed in their plans on the lines of love, mercy and humanity, 
 that they may proceed thereon, as now. 
 
 Appoint us for salvation and compassion that violence, out- 
 break, and calamity be unheard of in our land, that perfect- 
 peace may be accorded to us and to all who dwell in this 
 Country, now forevermore, amen." 
 
 A DESCRIPTION OF AMERICA AND AMERICAN PEOPLE COPIED FROM 
 
 A SPANISH NEWSPAPER AND PUBLISHED IN HARPER'S 
 
 WEEKLY IN 1898. 
 
 A description of America and American people copied from 
 a Spanish Newspaper, and published in Harper's Weekly in 1898. 
 
 "Hybrid people, ephemeral folk, 
 Vile mixture of the dirty slag,
 
 A LOVE STORY 53 
 
 Spewed by the ancient Continent, 
 Spurious race, without honor or history". 
 
 "Stinking den 
 
 Where all that is ignoble and ill-begotten 
 
 Finds its center and natural sphere. 
 
 Filthy, beast-like, fetid nest, 
 
 Refuge of loathesome reptiles". 
 
 It took a War to teach the world what America is; and it 
 was a war waged for humanity's sake. It taught the world it 
 needed to move up to and align with America, in war and 
 peace. It taught the power of Freedom and of Trust in God to 
 all the Nations of the Earth.
 
 54 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 REPENTANCE, CONFESSION, RESTITUTION, ABSOLUTION. 
 
 I once was talking with a Paulist father who was intent on 
 gathering men and women into the fold of the Mother Church. 
 He sought to impress me toward Catholicism, but I urged my 
 Free Thinking as an impossible barrier. It came up that I told 
 him I believed in Confession; at this his countenance brightened, 
 as that was a point to start from; but I said "I understand the 
 Bible to say "Confess ye your sins one to another". I said I 
 had had people confess to me and if they repented and confessed 
 and tried to make restitution, I absolved them. A look of hor- 
 ror came on his face, and I looked at him as I supposed a Bishop 
 might look at a priest down, not up; and he gave me up, and 
 I could see it. It is true, if one wrongs another and repents, it 
 is his duty to confess to the one wronged, try to make restitu- 
 tion, and ask absolution. If the one wronged refuses absolu- 
 tion after repentance and confession and an attempt at restitu- 
 tion, the wrong doer has earned his absolution, and will get it 
 even if we refuse him, for it is the law of God he shall have it 
 after he has met the conditions. I hold I am not obliged to give 
 absolution to one who knowingly wrongs me, unless he or she 
 repents, confesses, and tries at least to make restitution. If 
 I do forgive without these conditions the wrongdoer is liable to 
 do me a second wrong, at least this is my experience. You are 
 despised. Jesus said ''Father forgive them for they know not 
 what they do" but the wrongdoer usually does know what he 
 is doing, so we should demand repentance, confession and resti- 
 tution, or give no absolution.
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 55 
 
 AROUND THE WORLD FOUR TIMES. 
 
 In the year 1869 my husband, 
 Henry B. Kepley, suggested I at- 
 tend law school, and I made appli- 
 cation to the Hon. Henry Booth of 
 Chicago and received a kindly letter 
 from that noble gentleman saying 
 there was no objection, I took the 
 nine months course required and in 
 June 1870 I received my Diploma of 
 Graduation and the Degree of 
 Bachelor of Laws from the Law De- 
 partment of the University of Chi- 
 cago; John C. Buroughs, President; 
 Cyrus Bentley, Secretary; Henry 
 Booth, Dean of the Law Depart- 
 ment. 
 
 I went with others of the class 
 to the Hon. Chas. Read, State's At- 
 torney of Cook County, who was 
 qualified to issue licenses to practice 
 law, but he very politely and with many apologies refused 
 me, saying the law of Illinois at that time did not permit 
 women to enter the learned professions. Women might be 
 cooks, wash women, floor scrubbers, and do any sort 
 of menial labor at that time, but they were barred from the so- 
 called learned professions. What made my rejection at that 
 time more striking was the fact that a negro man in the same 
 class applied for and received his license to practice law the 
 same day I was rejected. 
 
 The matter was novel and new, and it travelled around the 
 whole civilized world, for it seems I was the first women to gra- 
 duate from a law school in the world, and in addition, America 
 which boasted to the rest of the world to be ' 'the land of the 
 free and the home of the brave", gave no freedom to her 
 women; but she did give all her rights and privileges to a re- 
 presentative of a race declared inferior and that had but lately 
 emerged from African savagery, and chattleism as slaves. It 
 
 ADA H. KEPLEY
 
 56 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 did strike the Old World as preposterous that American men 
 rated their own wives, sisters, daughters and mothers as lower 
 than negroes and ex-slaves. 
 
 So around the civilized world, and over America I travelled 
 on this conspicuous weakness and lack of chivalry of a boasted 
 free people, as well as the fact that I was the first women gra- 
 duate of a law school in the world. 
 
 Mr. Kepley formulated a bill giving women the right to en- 
 ter the learned professions, which I copy: 
 
 "Be it enacted, etc, That any women, whether married or 
 unmarried, shall have the same right that men have to follow 
 and engage in any business, trade or profession; and any bond 
 or obligation executed by a married women in qualifying her- 
 self to enter upon any such business, trade or profession, and 
 all contracts made by a married women in due course of busi- 
 ness in carrying on such business, trade or profession, shall be 
 binding, and as valid as though she were sole, and unmarried". 
 
 This bill was introduced into the Illinois Senate by Capt. 
 Edward Harlan of Marshall, Clark Co. Illinois, who was then 
 the Representative of Effingham County in the Legislature. 
 The bill was greeted kindly by some, by others with every sort 
 of ridicule and sarcasm and objection. Judge James B. Brad- 
 well of Chicago, whose wife, Myra Bradwell, was Editor of the 
 Legal News and who could not be admitted to the bar, nor 
 practice law, though she was the able head of a great law 
 Journal, came down from Chicago, and made a tremendous 
 fight for a bill embodying the same principles; Mr. Reddick of 
 Ottowa, LaSalle Co. , a wealthy farmer in the Legislature made 
 a vigorous fight for it also; and, in substance the bill written by 
 Mr. Kepley and presented by Captain Harlan, became a law, 
 and the women of Illinois were empowered to enter the legal 
 and other learned professions. I travelled the world around on 
 this matter. 
 
 The Bill became a law March 22, 1872, went into force July 
 1st, 1872. I did not apply for a license to practice law until 
 January 13th, 1881, when Hon. R. A. D. Wilbanks, a clerk of 
 the Supreme Court, who was a friend of my husband, made a 
 motion before that body that I be admitted; T. Lyle Dickey 
 Chief Justice, P. H. Walker, John M. Scott, J. Schofield, J.
 
 A LOVE STORY 57 
 
 M. Craig, Benj. Shelden, John Mulkey Justices. My license 
 to practice law was issued Jan. 27th, 1881, E. Snively, Clerk. 
 The second time I travelled round the world was a result of 
 a determined fight I had made on printed publications known 
 as obscene. Anthony Comstock of New York, McAffey of Illi- 
 nois, the W. C. T. U. and lovers of common decency far and 
 near were on the war path. The Post Office at Effingham was 
 a depot where much of it was exposed for sale, and the W. C. 
 T. U. appealed to the News Dealer and to the Postmaster to 
 stop the sale, but we were treated with contempt. Then I 
 complained to the Attorney General of the State of Illinois, 
 Hon. James McCartney, sending him copies of papers objected 
 to, and because of the exegencies of the mattter he rendered 
 at length, a decision on the subject from Springfield, Illinois, 
 Nov. 5th, 1883. My brother-in-law, Hon. Owen Scott, then 
 Editor of the Democrat, a local paper at Effingham, and a Past 
 Master of the Grand Lodge of Illinois Free Masons published 
 it, and he counselled me to send it to the great Dailies of Chi- 
 cago and St. Louis.. All used it, and that decision travelled 
 over the United States and the rest of the world, and I went 
 with it. There was a tremendous agitation in the United 
 States, and the States passed stringent laws in the legislatures 
 that followed that decision. Anthony Comstock said that the 
 circulation of the Police Gazette was cut down one half, two of 
 the papers complained of perished, that more convictions had 
 been secured for breaking the law in regard to bad pic- 
 tures and bad publications than they had ever had. The West- 
 ern Society for the Prevention of Vice said their work had been 
 "signally blessed", the year following the decision of Attorney 
 General McCartney, in Illinois. The Illinois Legislature passed 
 a more stringent bill and the Effingham W. C. T. U., which 
 complained also to the Post Master General, got rid of bad pub- 
 lications at the News Stands and in the Post Office. The Police 
 Gazette put out an issue that was irreproachable, - and the Edi- 
 tor and Proprietor, Mr. Fox, wrote me a letter asking me to 
 mark all passages and pictures that I objected to in it. I kept 
 the paper, and I wrote him a heart to heart letter, but I did not 
 mark any picture nor articles and he never replied to me in 
 that paper. Later on the Police Gazette published an account
 
 58 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 of a murder committed in our County and the capture of the 
 murderer, and sent at least one thousand advertisements of 
 that special copy to Effingham; but our News Dealers obeyed 
 the law and none of the copies got in that we know of. In 
 the years since then, I can say the pictorial papers emphasizing 
 vice and crime never revived their former glory; their wings 
 had been clipped; the evil is not ended yet which is another tale, 
 but I went around the world with this matter, with the Attor- 
 ney General of Illinois. 
 
 In Illinois we have what we call School Trustees, who look 
 after any school lands or funds, who enlarge or change school 
 districts, and who elect the township Treasurer who handles 
 the money of all the school districts of the township. It is an 
 election that seldom calls out more than thirty or forty votes in 
 our section. The election is held between one and four P. M. 
 on a Saturday, and with us the same men were elected over 
 and over again; nobody cared. We had a safe Treasurer and 
 nobody bothered their heads about that election. Mr. Kepley 
 had been one of the three trustees for a number of years and 
 was helping, April 12, 1886 hold the election and trying to get 
 in enough votes to call it an election. Then Wm. C. Wright 
 had a droll idea enter his head, and he proceeded to act upon 
 it. He went to a number of men and said "Let's beat Kepley 
 with his wife", and everybody fell into the joke, and votes be- 
 gan to come in. Mr. Kepley went out to call the closing of the 
 polls, when Mr. Wright said "Kepley you give us a little time 
 and we will elect your wife and beat you". "All right" said 
 Mr. Kepley "hustle", and they did, and I was elected school 
 trustee over my husband. I was about my own affairs that day 
 and knew nothing of what was going on until, just as we 
 started to supper that evening, Mr. Kepley said to me with a 
 twinkle in his eye, "You are elected." "Good gracious" I 
 sputtered, "what to"? "Why school trustee". "Well I never!" 
 I did not even remember there was an election. . The special 
 telegramers sent word to the great dailies at once and that lit- 
 tle affair went flying through the world like wildfire. The 
 clipping bureaus wrote to me to sell clippings, and around the 
 world I went for the third time. Our town was all a-giggle 
 and a-grin, they were in the lime light for once, if it was a
 
 A LOVE STORY 59 
 
 joke, and they all made merry together over it. Since Mr. 
 Kepley took part in it and aided and abetted the joke, he had his 
 fun too, for like the wise man that he was he delighted to push 
 me out. 
 
 When the trustees met, the Secretary, who was a cultured 
 German Catholic gentleman who had an education for the 
 priesthood, with a finish in France and England and Rome, in a 
 choice little speech nominated me for President of the Board of 
 Trustees, and I served for three years with a German Catholic 
 Banker, a German Catholic Justice of the Peace, and a German 
 Catholic Farmer, who composed the Board. I did not wish re- 
 election or I suppose I could have had it. It was the first time 
 ever in the world I suppose a woman beat her husband for an 
 elective office. That ought to have settled the question of 
 the safety of the family in politics; my election was a good ag- 
 itation for the question of suffrage for women which satisfied 
 both Mr. Kepley and myself, so we travelled around the world 
 together this time. 
 
 The last time I went around the world was with two of my 
 dogs, Waldo and Sampson, in 1897. The evening of March 1st, 
 I had come from supper with Mr. Kepley and while he put up the 
 horses I started to go upstairs, the two dogs with me. The 
 dogs ran up the steps ahead of me and got after something; I 
 knew by their barking. I called them to order, thinking it was 
 our hired man; they barked as if they intended to bite. Sud- 
 denly a man, disguised, ran down the stairs, knocking me to 
 one side as I stood in the doorway. I went against the wall 
 of the house and came to my knees, when he struck me several 
 hard licks with what I was told afterwards must have been 
 rubber tubing used in drawing beer, and then fired a pistol at 
 me. It happened quickly. I screamed I suppose, for Mr. 
 Kepley who was in the barn ran to me. The would be murderer 
 ran down the alley adjacent. The dogs had followed the fellow 
 down stairs and made at him, and Waldo got a bullet wound in 
 his foot that clipped a bit of the flesh out. The bullet was 
 found next morning in the hall when the help swept; we found 
 the caliber of the gun it came from, and the shape of the bullet 
 showed it had been fired downward at me, but missed me and 
 clipped the dog's foot. Our physician, Dr. J. B. Walker came
 
 60 A FARM PHILOSOPHER] 
 
 to examine the dog's foot and to determine the caliber of the 
 revolver, the inclination of the bullet and the nearness of the 
 shot fired at me; also, the police came to make enquiries, etc., 
 and the bullet was found next morning in the hall by my help. 
 
 Mr. Richard Lawson, who edited and owned The Republi- 
 can office at this time, asked me for a picture of the dogs, 
 Waldo and Sampson, to accompany an account of the affair he 
 wrote for his paper. Mrs. Emily Butler who was the best an- 
 imal artist I ever met took the picture with this sketch, and it 
 went the rounds. Rev. Jasper L. Douthett the well known Editor 
 of Our Best Words and of Lithia Chataqua, Shelbyville, Illinois, 
 asked for the picture and the sketch for his paper, which is 
 widely circulated. Geo. Angel, the Editor of Our Dumb Ani- 
 imals, asked him for the sketch and picture for Our Dumb 
 Animals, and as Our Dumb Animals travels all over the civil- 
 ized world, I started on my long journey with the two dogs. 
 An English Sporting Paper wrote to me for the dogs' pictures 
 and the story of their lives and a sketch and I sent that. A 
 number of other animal and sporting papers, used both. Mrs. 
 Sarah K. Bolton's book, "Our Devoted Friend, the Dog" used 
 the two dogs and the sketch and my connection with them, so 
 I travelled extensively with my dear dumb friends. 
 
 I'd dearly love to visit some foreign lands, in propia per- 
 sonam but I could not visit near all of them as I have with 
 Waldo and Sampson. Waldo was a beautiful long haired dog 
 crossed, I think, between setter and shepard. He was tan 
 and black and white and he had large, expressive brown eyes 
 that looked only love and trust and promise to me. Sampson 
 Thu was named for Domine Sampson of "Prodigous" memory. 
 He had a twin brother I called Rhoderick Dhu and I put the 
 Thu on his name to match the Dhu on Rhoderick's. He was a 
 little short legged "tyke", as the Scotch say, black as coal with 
 anxious loving eyes. I think there was never such an odd dog 
 as "Sampie". He could hardly endure life away from me and 
 would do anything to be where I wa's, even climbing ladders 
 high up to me. He seemed to know my mind, and his soul vi- 
 brated to my mood. I've known him to scream when I felt 
 sad, and cast himself upon me when he could not stand my 
 sadness. Waldo got the bullet wound in his foot. Dear, faith-
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 61 
 
 ful friends, I travelled in -good company 
 when we went round the world together 
 and among the best of and wisest People. 
 So ends the history of my four trips 
 around the civilized world; with the United 
 THE BULLET states of America and a negro in 1870-71; 
 with the Attorney General of Illinois in 1883-84; with my hus- 
 band in 1886-87; witk my dogs, Waldo and Sampson, in 1897-98. 
 
 WALDO AND SAMPSON
 
 62 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 ADDENA. 
 
 Some may be curious to know if I caught my would-be mur- 
 derer. Yes, I did. He was the son of a well known liquor 
 dealer in Effingham and was very angry because I published 
 him for being drunk. A man passed me on the street one day 
 and said, as he passed, ' 'I think Ike Green knows something 
 you need to know", and Green told me Tom Reed and John 
 Guyon knew something; Green had seen my assailant come out 
 of an alley and go into a saloon across the way. Reed and 
 Guyon told me they saw the same party go to the bar in the 
 saloon and get a drink of whiskey, and that they thought he 
 got a gun from the saloon keeper who gave him the drink; they 
 heard the shot, and when they found out the news, they were 
 of the opinion who the man was and what he obtained the drink 
 and gun for. I found a young man, Chas. Jones, who told me 
 he was in the atelier of a man music teacher, and some one 
 rapped and a young man in charge, Joseph Irving, opened the door 
 and let some one in, and he asked Joseph who it was and got the 
 name. He also the next day, when he heard the news, said he 
 was certain the young man was my assailant. I went to Douglas 
 County, Illinois, and found Joseph Irving and he had had a let- 
 ter from the young fellow who tried to murder me, begging 
 him not to give him away. He turned the letter over and wrote 
 the young man his opinion of him and sent it back. I set the 
 matter before the grand jury; the saloons kept open house all 
 week for that grand jury; of course they refused to do any- 
 thing except three of them. Then the foreman of the Grand 
 Jury, Mr. Geo. Poorman of Altamont, Illinois, said to the States 
 Attorney "Will you adjourn this grand jury, I'm not going to 
 sit over such a farce any longer". I knew a" number of that 
 grand jury and I did not wonder; It was supposed a number of 
 people in Effingham County would be pleased that I was unpro- 
 tected from assault and even death, and that the man who as- 
 saulted me was protected. Messrs. George Poorman, Harvey 
 Gorrell and Adam Hutton were the grand jurors who voted to 
 indict my would be murderer; the rest did not care. 
 
 The man who tried to murder me is a wanderer on the earth 
 and sunk as low as a man can get. A number of the actors of 
 this drama are no more. The dear friend who cherished me
 
 A LOVE STORY 63 
 
 has joined the "silent majority". Waldo and Sampson have 
 paid their debt to Nature; and I am forgiven of my offences. 
 No one wants to kill me now, and what I taught and suffered 
 for, and my husband sacrificed for The Cause of Temperance- 
 draws nearer and nearer to victory the whole world over. 
 
 Shortly after the saloons, were voted out of Effingham I 
 came upon the saloon keeper from whom my would-be mur- 
 derer got his gun and whiskey. He was seated mournfully 
 with a couple of cronies behind his saloon, which was shut. We 
 had a friendly conversation together, and the saloon man said 
 to me "I'm not a bad fellow, am I? Did you ever know any- 
 thing bad of me"? "Well", I said, "the worst thing I ever 
 heard of you was that you gave the pistol to kill me"; and I 
 waited to see if he would deny it, but he did not. So I was con- 
 vinced he did furnish the pistol as well as the whiskey to end 
 my life. Some way, somehow, I escaped with my life and, as 
 I said, no one wants to kill me now; my sins are all forgiven in* 
 that line. I have complete absolution.
 
 64 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 MUSIC. 
 
 "And it came to pass that ivhen an evil spirit came upon 
 Saul that David took an harp and played with his hand; so Saul 
 was refreshed and was well, and the evil spirit departed from 
 him." Bible. 
 
 "All music is what awakes from you when you are reminded 
 by the instruments. Walt. Whitman. 
 
 Music is used to quiet and heal lunatics in Hospitals; it 
 soothes and heals the sick. It is beautiful to see the feet of 
 little children respond in harmonious movements to sweet sounds. 
 I saw a little lad dance to Band Music a whole evening. He 
 was two years old, and the music made him happy; and un- 
 conscious of others, he moved rythmically hands, feet and body 
 to every melody that was given at a street concert. 
 
 We know a violin played to the keynote of a great structure 
 can level it to the earth. Machines in factories are set at discord, 
 not in unison, to keep the buildings safe, and that they may 
 not be torn down- by the united power of the machines. The 
 "Machine Doctor" uses his rod to detect breaks in the harmony 
 of molecules and atoms, and sometimes a record made of sounds, 
 and repeated on a talking machine tells him the trouble with a 
 machine, and prevents disaster on land and sea. Wild cattle 
 on the ranges, about to stampede, settle, when the cow boys 
 sing hymns. Wolves have been held at bay by the melody of a 
 violin and the harmony of a human voice in song. A strange 
 tale is told of a woman who fell into the hands of a lot of half 
 wild and drunken men. She sang until exhausted and saved 
 her honor and perhaps her life. The blowing" of a rams horn 
 struck the keynote of the walls, and Jericho fell. 
 
 We have not learned all there is in song and harmonious 
 sounds, any more than we know the law by which the great 
 blocks which compose the Pyramids were lifted into their places, 
 nor of the laws that govern us and the stars, but we do know 
 that- 
 
 "Music Heavenly zeal inspires, 
 
 It lifts the soul and sets it high 
 
 And fits it for Divinity".
 
 A LOVE STORY 65 
 
 It is of God and we master it in part in the piping of the 
 flute, in the organ peal, in the blowing of the trumpet, in the 
 scream of the fife, in the rattle of the drum and all other instru- 
 ments of sound, and by the human voice we may lift ourselves 
 God ward. 
 
 The winds, the rains, the stars and celestial bodies all move 
 in harmony "making music". The birds, the beasts, the flow- 
 ers, are all exemplars of musical laws. Some one teaches 
 music is creative and that it may bring forth a star. Ah, who 
 can tell? We do not know ourselves. We have only the merest 
 smatter of knowledge of the mysterious forces of the Universe. 
 
 The Chinese, who have a fashion of searching out the ulti- 
 mates of things, say they have found the keynote of the Uni- 
 verse; and some more modern and civilized people say that all 
 the great sounds of nature resolve themselves into the sound 
 the Chinese have discovered. The winds, the roar of torrents, 
 the shriek of the tempest it is said resolve into the sound of 
 middle F; however this may be all nature is vocal. 
 
 When I send the men to haul up dead wood to burn, I 
 always say "Strike it with the ax and if it sings it will burn 
 all right". The ring of the axes which swing on my own farm 
 and come into us from the neighborhood farms, is musical 
 and vary with the condition of the atmosphere, from a sharp 
 staccato when it was very cold and frosty to a duller ring when 
 the air is heavy. 
 
 I enjoy the music of the great cross cut saws as they sing 
 their way through the trunks of the trees, and their tremolo 
 when they are handled or cast down. The ascending scale one 
 hears as the hatchets and hammers drive the nails from sixes to 
 spikes, make one wish to know of the law which governs them; 
 the lowing of the cattle, the neighing of the horses, the bleating 
 of the sheep, the shrill cries of the pigs who quarrel or complain 
 when the nights are cold and run hot footed and squealing to an- 
 swer the call for food, the gobble of the turkeys, the wild 
 shrieks of the peacocks, the clamor of the cocks, the cackle 
 and clucking of the hens, the calling of the flocks, the child- 
 ren's voices shrilling from place to place, the caw of the 
 crows, the singing of the birds all are as full of music in their 
 way as the set melodies of a band or of a musical instrument,
 
 66 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 and are fuH of a keen delight and inspiration to me. They 
 fill me with feelings I cannot express, except to say in the 
 words of an old song, "There is Music; there is Music Every- 
 where". 
 
 My farm is full of music to me, and I seek to know its 
 special harmonies.
 
 A LOVE STORY 67 
 
 A SCHOOL ELECTION. 
 
 I have taken part in many school elections. Men, no mat- 
 ter how they feel about the ballot for women, are obliged to 
 give in when women can vote. 
 
 In Illinois, as well as in a number of other States, \vomen 
 have the school ballot, and vote for school directors, school trus- 
 tees, and trustees of State University. At election time voters 
 are in demand, male and female. 
 
 "Josiar Allen" thought "females," were too fraguile to 
 vote, as he told Samantha; he has many followers, but when 
 the women can vote and both sides wish to win in an election, 
 the brethern all seem to forget how fraguile the "females," are, 
 and they do their best to get all the women to vote for their 
 tickets, and they are taken to the polls in carriages if they feel 
 too "fraguile" to walk. It is jolly to go into a well contested 
 school election. I never knew of any women fighting or pulling 
 hair at an election, though I have seen some hotly contested 
 elections. We women run our buggies, hunt up the forgotten, 
 and new voters, and bring in those who hang back. When we 
 come out on top, well we feel mighty good! 
 
 The Governmental township in which we voted for trustees 
 included Teutopolis and Douglas townships and had many 
 German Catholic and Lutheran voters, who generally opposed 
 the ballot for women. They used to think it scandalous for 
 women to vote, and some of their women sang the same song 
 with some of our men and women, but they are getting used to 
 it now. It is said when St. Patrick can't make something he 
 breaks something. I followed his policy as well as I knew 
 how. There was to be an election for school trustees for Doug- 
 las and Teutopolis townships and I nominated Elizabeth Over- 
 beck of Teutopolis as school trustee. I had a number of tick- 
 ets printed which I paid for, and with her name I printed the 
 names of two other candidates on the regular ticket. She was 
 agreed to it and it is proper and allowable to so nominate. All 
 one needs is to get the ticket out and voted for if possible, and 
 pay the printer. Elizabeth Overbeck was a vigorous minded
 
 68 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 Catholic; she had the affliction of a son who was regularly 
 robbed by the saloon of his senses, and his money, 'and she had 
 a heart, full, for other Mothers who, like herself, were robbed 
 of the sons they risked their lives for, and put to the shame, 
 and made to suffer for. She became a member of the W. C. T. 
 U. and a terror to the Saloon keepers of Teutopolis whose saloons 
 she visited and whose proprietors she threatened with the law. 
 With my aid she had the whole of them indicted once, and they 
 feared and hated her. It was supposed Teutopolis Saloon keepers 
 could not be indicted they had a cinch on the County officials and 
 grand juries, but Elizabeth worked up the evidence. The Lord 
 seemed to have sent the right kind of a grand jury, and all the 
 Teutopolis Saloon keepers were indicted as they badly needed 
 to be. It was demonstrated once that there was a law, and 
 they could be punished for disobedience to it. After that Eliz- 
 abeth would go into the saloons and in a stern voice order minors 
 and drunkards to go home discoursing to them meantime of 
 their sins. To Saloon keepers she would say, 'Til have you 
 indicted", and the men and boys ran home. Elizabeth said to 
 me, "I have to laugh they run like mice when the cat comes 
 in". She was a fearsome woman when she began, but she 
 grew to be a fearless one. 
 
 When Elizabeth's name went on the ticket for school 
 trustee for Teutopolis township there was an uproar that sounded 
 tremendously through the two townships of Douglas and Teu- 
 topolis, and such canvassing to beat "Elizabeth", and the lies 
 that were industriously circulated! One man said to me, "Why 
 that woman can neither read nor write". "Oh well", I said, 
 "she has good hard sense and she knows more than many who 
 have held office in this County, and I know there is a man on 
 that board of trustees now, who was born and raised in this 
 County, who is forty years old and who was never on, or took 
 a ride on a railroad train in his life" and he shut up. Eliza- 
 beth had not the ghost of a chance for an election but every 
 body on both sides worked just as if there was every chance 
 for her: It was as funny as the Clowns show in Ringling's 
 Circus. Usually there were less than 50 votes cast at an election 
 for School Trustees but this time almost 1000 votes were polled.
 
 A LOVE STORY 69 
 
 Oh, it was a great day everybody was routed out to vote 
 and hardly a woman or man escaped. Some of our zealous 
 friends wished to challenge some doubtful women's votes, but 
 Mr. Kepley said, "Let 'em vote, that's the main point". He 
 always declared that election robbed the grave, for one old sick, 
 German woman fell dead when she got home after voting. We 
 had a bigger "hulabuloo" than a Presidential election. We set- 
 tled the question of the right of a foreign born woman to vote on 
 her husband's naturalization papers. There was a tremendous 
 agitation. All the women voted and that was what we were 
 after, so we were in fact successful, and "Elizabeth" was a 
 more wholesome power ever afterwards. It was a day of great 
 things, that election day; the law and the Gospel came together. 
 We "con verted many people to the ballot for women. We agi- 
 tated that and the temperance question for the saloon vote was 
 solid against our candidate. 
 
 Complaint was made to the Bishop of the diocese against 
 "Elizabeth"; on a visit he made to Teutopolis, and she was much 
 disturbed when asked to appear before him; but this high dig- 
 nitary soon put her at her ease. He asked many questions con- 
 cerning the town and the saloon and the township; he settled 
 one legal question for her, and gave her his blessing, and en- 
 forced and made known his decision before a witness. A young 
 priest, in the absence of his superior, called "Elizabeth" before 
 him, "raked her", and in his wrath smote her on the breast. He 
 was lucky she was more of a Christian than he was for she was big 
 enough to have knocked him down. But she was mad and de- 
 clared to me that if she had had a witness she would have had 
 him arrested, and she would. The Bishop saw in this humble 
 Christian Mother the material of which Saints are made. I call 
 her St. Elizabeth and if her church will not canonize her, I will; 
 to me she is St. Elizabeth of Teutopolis. St. Elizabeth has gone 
 to her reward, but the work she did lives. She is the greatest 
 woman who ever lived in Teutopolis Township, Effingham 
 County, Illinois. 
 
 So ended this election which contains enough material 
 for a drama when the times are ripe; it will keep.
 
 70 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 ELIZABETH OVERBECK, 
 
 St. Elizabeth of Teutopolis. 
 
 I always had staunch friends among 
 the German Catholics, who knew right- 
 eousness, and could see it in the de- 
 spised cause of temperance. A cultured 
 gentleman of Teutopolis sent me three 
 poems and gave me other aid, and I 
 had other good friends there. Eliza- 
 beth was unlearned, uncultured. He, 
 with all the culture of the schools, left 
 a poerh that lives in Teutopolis. Both 
 rest from their labors now. A simple 
 cross rises above St. Elizabeth's space 
 in God's acre, and his mortality is en- 
 shrined in marble, but the good they 
 did is their real and most enduring 
 memorial, and both were potent in 
 that school election.
 
 A LOVE STORY 71 
 
 THE CARDINAL, OR RED BIRD. 
 
 Like a coal of fire our cedar or cardinal bird, commonly 
 known as the red bird, flashes through the land. He greets 
 one in the morning with a happy song. He loves to sing an 
 evening melody and twitter in our trees, but he likes to sing at 
 high noon too. 
 
 I heard one at noon day in a dead oak in one of my barn lots. 
 He was in the tip top of it and singing his best. That he sang 
 in mid day drew my attention. He sang as if in ecstacy. He 
 had had a hard time evidently, rearing his family and waiting 
 upon his mate; his tail was all gone but one feather and he was 
 dreadfully shabby every way; but there he sang in the top of the 
 tree, and it was a jolly song. He had no complaints of his hard 
 working past; he had no forebodings of the future. What was 
 cold and rain and sleet and chill; he did not think anything 
 about them; he was full of happiness now, and he told it in a 
 song. I spoke to the men of it and one of them said, "I wish I 
 was as happy as that bird", and I think we all wished the same 
 wish; but he had given us an inspiration and an uplift with his 
 life and his song. We all could be happier if we would imitate 
 the birds. 
 
 I once knew of a red bird who made her nest in a-vine on a 
 wall in Effingham. The Housemother was a sweet lady and loved 
 the birds, and hung out the fats of meat for them in the winter, 
 and the birds honored her with their presence. So this red bird 
 lady made her nest on the wall, and we laughed for in the bottom 
 she placed a piece of printed paper, we thought she must be 
 literary. She raised her family undisturbed and respected. 
 
 I once made the acquaintance of another red bird. She had 
 a nest in a cedar tree on the side of a ravine at my farm. She 
 flew out as I was hunting ferns and I caught my lady. In her 
 nest were some eggs which I did not stay long enough to count. 
 I always wanted to go back and see the young ones but I was 
 too busy, and when I did get back the nest was empty. I did 
 not betray her, though I bragged of my friend, and I'm afraid 
 strained the truth when I said the red bird wished me to call 
 again. I was sure see would have if she had known that on my 
 farm all birds are respected and not molested, and they can 
 have feed always, no hunters allowed.
 
 72 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE RED BIRD. 
 
 At early morn, Oh scarlet coat. 
 
 From out the topmost branch of tallest trees 
 
 We hear thy bright clear notes pierce upper air 
 
 With thrilling cadence sweet; 
 
 So thin, so clear, so sweet, so glad 
 
 We upward look toward heaven and thee 
 
 And drink the free untrammeled bliss 
 
 That gushes from they throat, 
 
 And all the world and care and fret forget; 
 
 Till silence brings us back to earth again.
 
 A LOVE STORY 73 
 
 A MORNING ELEVATION 
 
 It was the early morning but the moon was so brilliant I 
 could not tell if it were daylight or not. The earth was illum- 
 inated with the glory of Luna at her full and she hung in the 
 Western sky. I gazed upon it's magnificence and I was moved 
 to offer myself in adoration of all that heavenly scene. It seemed 
 natural and good and I remembered it was all given to man; he 
 was to have dominion over that and all the works of Gods hands. 
 I turned toward the East, the sun had not arisen but great 
 streamers of red ran to and fro across the sky like messengers, 
 announcing the coming day, and I began to sing a love song I 
 learned at school: "Love good morning, love good morning, 
 hail my life's adorning", I could not help it. 
 
 Sir Moses Montefiore; the great Jewish Philanthropist, each 
 morning sang joyously a hymn of praise to his God; it was some- 
 thing he never neglected. I wished I too might every morning 
 sing my song as he did. If all the earth at the morning hour 
 were vocal with the praise of God out of loving hearts, how full 
 the world would be of goodness and of the manifestation of 
 God's power. The earth and sky are glorious in form and 
 beauty on all our farms and at the early morning, and ought to 
 fill us with worship of the Creator. The birds hold their most 
 splendid concerts at the morning hour. They are full of joy. 
 
 MESSAGES FROM GOD. 
 
 Of a truth our Heavenly Father sends messages, to his 
 children. If we take note we shall find many things are sent 
 to us. So often aweary at night and often harrassed and not 
 certain what is best for me to do, I commit it to the Lord and 
 dismiss it from my mind, and go to bed; I can't do anything 
 about it. When my eyes open in the morning, things seem 
 plain before me, I am decided on the course that seems best 
 for me, and it is best. Often it is as if one looked out when a 
 storm was on and all is dark. Suddenly comes a flash of light 
 and one sees everything. I often marvel at the messages I re- 
 ceive, and that flash across my mind as I awaken in the morning.
 
 74 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE TEMPLE. 
 
 Mr. Kepley bought a little Southern Methodist Church in 
 Effingham in the year 1884, enlarged it and fitted it up as a 
 place where temperance and other free meetings could be held; 
 we had no place to meet. There was no free public hall for the 
 uses of the people; the Churches had generally closed to the W. 
 C. T. U. after the defeat of Blain and the election of Cleveland 
 in 1884, for the W. C. T. U. was much blamed for that defeat 
 though it was not their fault and they had a right to be Pro- 
 hibitionists and declare for that doctrine it if they wished, and 
 they did, though it caused a temporary schism in the ranks 
 among some ardent republican women. 
 
 In Effingham it was Democratic and the County was that 
 color too, but when we wanted to use the Court House we found 
 the door locked on us; the objection to Prohibition was at the
 
 A LOVE STORY 75 
 
 bottom, with the saloon men in the saddle. We were out in 
 the cold, so the Temple was opened and for almost twenty- 
 years it. was the home for Temperance workers and for strug- 
 gling religious peoples who had no home, and for meetings for 
 righteousness that had no other place. The Christian Church 
 had a years free use of it, and one year at a nominal rent and they 
 got upon their own feet finally. Holiness and Free Methodists 
 ran revivals in it, and we helped them ourselves, though not 
 orthodox, for it was a work of God and our small differences did 
 not signify. We let other Churches have the use of it when 
 they needed it. We held Prohibition party meetings when we 
 did not use the Court House. We were shut out for everything. 
 but political meetings. The Board of Supervisors, because 
 of liquor pressure, shut the doors of the temple of justice on us 
 once and instructed the Sheriff to lock us out. Mr. Kepley and 
 some of our men went to the Board and made "a row" and de- 
 manded the use of the Court House for Prohibition meetings. 
 The reply was "Only for political meetings and Agricultural, 
 and Court meetings shall it be opened". "Well", said he "we 
 are in politics and you open the house or I'll break the door 
 down and go in on my rights as an American citizen". That 
 settled it; and for Political meetings we used it when we choose 
 after that. But the Temple had its place. For six months of 
 every year we taught the children each Sabbath the most vigor- 
 ous things we knew for righteousness and temperance. Here 
 we held our Diamond Medal Contests our Pet Animal Shows and 
 Industrial Exhibits and every exhibitor got a gift and the best 
 had extra prizes. What happy, helpful days they were. Here 
 St. John, Francis Willard, Clara Hoffman, Edward Carswell, 
 George Bain, Lou Beauchamp, Mary Haggard, Mary Lathrop, 
 Zerelda Wallace, Henry Austin, Frank Sibley, Albert Hopkins, 
 Mary Kuhl, Helen Hood, Clara Foltz, Jake Hoof stitler Wolfen- 
 barger, and many, many other people of note spoke, besides, 
 those of ours who spoke at the Opera House and Court House. 
 Our Band of Hope rallies centered here, the Festivals of the 
 year; opening, closing, New Years, Valentines Day, Easter 
 were all held in its precincts. Our walls were hung with banners 
 and pictures. We marched, we sang; young minds were shaped, 
 men and women were lifted up and their feet set in a good way
 
 76 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 and out of our work the Churches were enlarged. We named 
 it for that Temple of old, a symbol of that Temple not made 
 with hands, and in honor of the Temple family from which I 
 sprung and because it was a good name and in favor. 
 
 The Temple is a memory that will live for good in the minds 
 of men and women once children who enjoyed its privilages. 
 When the Master of the Temple was called from ' 'labor to re- 
 ward" the house he loved was decorated for the last festival of 
 us all. He lay as in slumber in his royal purple casket, and 
 with his life the life of the Temple also closed. I could not do 
 that work without the one who established it for so many bene- 
 ficient uses. The setting of my life had changed and to follow 
 his will, I had other things to do now. I thank God for the 
 education The Temple and its work was to me. Many things 
 were hard, unkind and thankless, but to teach the children was 
 a joy and we built on sure foundations. Effingham was dry 
 two years and will soon be a dry town all the time, and so will 
 the County also and we did our best at The Temple to help on 
 that happy, happy day. 
 
 A RALLY ON THE COURT HOUSE STEPS
 
 A LOVE STORY 77 
 
 IM FRUELING. 
 
 What is so lovely as the Springtime? A dear sister of mine 
 who sang a sweet alto, and I, used often to sing Abts' "Im 
 Frueling" together. Sometimes we sang it in English, some- 
 times in German. It is so full of the new life that comes after 
 the winter, of the melting of the snow on the mountains, of the 
 warming of the earth by the advancing sun, of the rising of the 
 life forces in trees and plants and herbage; of bird songs and 
 earth songs, of the hum of bees and insects, of the life that is 
 in men and animals, of the sounds that come from near and far, 
 in the beauty of bud and flower, in soft rains and balmy winds. 
 
 In Spring what joy! The cats and dogs romp and run as if 
 they were crazy; the cattle and horses jump and snort and kick 
 and run ; the children race and romp and run and call; life is 
 full of delicious things and lovers dream and walk and talk and 
 plan the things to be. 
 
 "In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to 
 thoughts of love", and the young girl's too. Everywhere life 
 appears new and abundant. There are birds in the nest, young 
 rabbits in the fields, squirrels in the trees with little ones, lambs 
 come to the fold, chickens in the yards, calves in the barns and 
 pastures, young pigs in the lots, colts in the barns and fields; 
 the fruit trees are rich with blooms and promise good yields, 
 and the farmer's heart is full the world seems at its best to 
 him. 
 
 The soil is broken by the ploughs on every hand and the 
 upturned earth is sweet and savory to the sense of smell. There 
 is great hope on every hand for a bounteous harvest and the 
 world seems at its high tide to everyone and there is rejoicing 
 everywhere. Man and Nature are at one, "Im Frueling". 
 
 SPRING A SONNET. 
 
 Across the fields the warm south wind is blown, 
 
 The sleeping earth awakes to joyous growth, 
 
 A myriad lives cast off the winters' sloth, 
 
 The sweet voiced birds from summerlands have flown;
 
 78 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 The ploughman hastes his team with cheery tone 
 
 As deep his furrows cleave the mellow soil, 
 
 With whistle and with song he lightens toil. 
 
 The blackbird jangles to his mate alone 
 
 As wooing he pursues her through the air; 
 
 While budding branches wave, embrace and grown, 
 
 Too rich with sun and dew a wedded pair, 
 
 A veil of tender white and pink have thrown about 
 
 their to be treasures rich, 
 And bring to human lives the dear delights of Spring.
 
 A LOVE STORY 79 
 
 PRUNING THE GRAPE VINES. 
 
 I pruned the grape vines the other day the first time since 
 I planted them except to clip their long branches in summer. 
 The earth was full of water for there had been much rain, but 
 the sky was blue, the air was warm, the birds sang if it was 
 February; the life of the coming year was rising like a tide. So 
 many things came to my mind ; I wondered why everybody did 
 not plant a grape vine; they respond so quickly and generously 
 to even a little care. 
 
 Last spring the extreme late cold caught the vines in blos- 
 som and all the blooms were killed, but there was a rush of sap, 
 new blossoms came and we had some grapes to eat and enough 
 for the winter store of jelly and jam, so generous were they to 
 us. 
 
 I wondered why every Christian did not plant a grape vine, 
 for as I clipped and cut I thought of Christ and His words ' 'My 
 Father is the Husbandman, I am the Vine, ye are the branches. " 
 Jesus no doubt pruned the Vines as they are staples in old Pal- 
 estine and he knew all about their culture and their fruit. He 
 knew the nature of the wines of His day so when He gave the 
 wine at Cana it was the true juice of the vine, not a fermented 
 poison. To think that Jesus would serve alcholic wine is an ab- 
 surdity; to suppose he gave it is to suppose him ignorant. If 
 any one could know of the intoxicating properties of fermented 
 wine He did. If men and women had been drinking fermented 
 wine up to the date the wine failed, they would have been pretty 
 well under its influence, and no right minded person would have 
 served more alcholic wine at such a time unless he was ignorant 
 or totally reckless of consequences. By all right reckoning the 
 wine served at Cana was non-alcholic. Jesus knew of the varied 
 wines of his time and it was out of keeping with his character 
 to suppose he would serve a beverage to make men and women 
 drunk. The Bible not only says "Do not taste wine"; it says 
 "Do not look at it"! The old writers knew the psychological 
 effect of looking at evil. Christ knew all these things and he 
 was obedient to the highest moral and spiritual law. "Oh" 
 says one "Was machts"? "Aber es machts fiel sage Ich".
 
 80 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 I pruned the vines and my thoughts ran of Christ, His life 
 and His wonderful works. I walked with Him who pruned the 
 vines, and who idealized the common things of life. I knew 
 His hard work, the toil and sweat of the day, the long heavy 
 task of this carpenter laborer. He loved and followed the sowing, 
 the harvest, the brambles, the rocks; the people's troubles He 
 made his own. I saw old Palestine again with its mountains 
 and valley and rocks and trees and rivers and lakes, and the sea 
 coast and the blue sea and Bethlehem and Nazareth and Geth- 
 semane and Calvary. I saw Gallilee; I saw the Jordan, and John, 
 and the great multitude when John led Jesus into the blue 
 waters at the ford. I saw Him order old satan to get behind 
 Him; I felt his .grief when Peter denied Him and Judas betrayed 
 and sold Him. I saw a miserable woman fall before Him and 
 bathe His feet with her tears and wipe them with her long soft 
 hair. I saw Him read the mind of Simon who rebuked Him in 
 his thoughts and with his voice. I saw the woman go in tears 
 as she was bade to sin no more by this man, who alone of all 
 men had compassion and pity for her. I saw Him scrawl in the 
 sand when another woman was brought before Him and de- 
 nounced by men. I saw them slink away as He told any who 
 was free from the same sin to cast the first stone at her. I saw 
 the poor wretch accused pass out in tears, contrite in spirit, 
 admonished to sin no more. I saw Him bless the little children 
 and their Mothers. I saw Him scourge the men who lied to get 
 money. I saw His life. I remembered the simple creed He 
 gave to men. I heard His fierce invective against the heads 
 of the Church. I saw the bloody sweat His anguish forced from 
 Him in Gethsemane. I saw Him dumb before his accusers. I 
 saw Him hang on Calvary's tree, deserted by all but the women 
 who wept for Him in His agony. I saw Him salute the women 
 who were first to see Him after His resurrection, "All Hail". 
 I heard the royal commission He gave to them to go and preach 
 the Gospel. I saw Him in His ascension on high, after which 
 the world saw Him no more. I was at one with Christ as I 
 pruned my vines. I pruned the Grapes as Jesus did so long 
 ago and I had a heavenly vision that uplifted me to the heights.
 
 A LOVE STORY 81 
 
 THE CAT BIRD. 
 
 Shy, sober, coated friend, 
 
 With tricksome mimic calls that know no end, 
 
 Mock-bird of northern climes where warmth and cold, 
 
 In their successive seasons have and hold; 
 
 In door yard, leafy bower, and woodland shade, 
 
 We seek and find thee, and thy nest, no hand has made, 
 
 And list enchanted as from rapturous throat, 
 
 Thou pourest forth a flood of joyous melody.
 
 82 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE FERTILE EARTH. 
 
 Oh, the earth is our Mother, out of her breast she feeds us 
 all. She takes us at the end and hides us, and sets the spirit 
 free. 
 
 I marvel at the fertility of the earth. I never saw a spot of 
 it so poor but that something could grow on it. I one day saw 
 a handful of earth in a hollow in a tree, near the ground. It 
 held perhaps a couple of handfuls of earth and in that tiny bit 
 of soil I counted eleven small plants growing and each different. 
 It was of interest to see how many kinds there were. Many 
 farmers rob their ground, but it is never so poor it will raise 
 nothing. Give back to it that which we take from it, and how 
 it responds. 
 
 A German bought a worn out farm. He sowed rye and 
 ploughed it under and put in a crop. He sowed rye again and 
 turned it under. It was not many years till his land was good and 
 paid him back and was called good land whereas w r hen he bought it 
 it was so poor men refused it saying it had no value. We 
 farmers plant, clear and plough under weeds, trash, clover, 
 vetch, cow peas and all sorts of things; we bring these things 
 to the soil and old Nature helps us; she yields her secrets if 
 we care enough to hunt for them, and soon with sun and dew 
 and light and air the earth responds to our bidding and blesses 
 our labors. The wet land responds when drained; the dry lands 
 yield beautiful harvests when cultured right; the alkali lands 
 raising sage brush and weeds yield up their stubborn mood when 
 the irrigating ditches deluge them with water. There is a spirit 
 in it all as well as a labor, and man, the wise farmer can, always 
 conquer Mother Nature, till she smiles on him with abundant 
 harvests. There seems no end to her power: Earth from 2000 
 feet below the surface will yield vegitation if we give it sub- 
 light and water. Life has no end to things of profound moment 
 from the soil and the farmer is after all, the greaj; Land Lord, 
 whose handmaid is the fertile earth.
 
 A LOVE STORY 83 
 
 HOW I BROKE UP THE SOLID DEMOCRATIC TOWNSHIP 
 OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
 In Effingham County, Illinois, is a township called Teuto- 
 polis Township. Its centre or Hub is Teutopolis, or Town of 
 the Teutons. It was settled many years ago by a company of 
 Germans who came largely from the peasant class of Oldenburg, 
 Germany. They came to this place via Ohio. They were de- 
 voted Catholics and soon established a Church and School in a 
 log house. Later on they built a large brick Church with am- 
 ple grounds, and a boys School, with a Monastery for the Fran- 
 ciscan Monks, who had the services of the Church and the 
 School for boys attached, in charge. The School once took in 
 pupils of a general class; they have a great Cathedral a 
 Monastery, a School by Franciscans but it is now occupied in 
 training young men for the priesthood who come from Europe. 
 The town is small, but the whole township is well to do and the 
 Church and School is very prosperous. 
 
 The political color of the township is Democratic and it was 
 their proud boast that this was ' 'The Solid Democratic Town- 
 ship of the United States of America". There was not a single 
 individual in the township but what claimed he was a Demo- 
 crat. The political color of our Country for a number of years 
 had been Republican, and it was a great thorn in the flesh of 
 that party that Teutopolis township had a democratic postmas- 
 ter. There' was not a single republican to make a postmaster 
 out of. There had never been a republican meeting in the town- 
 ship, and in fact, I think there had never been any kind of meet- 
 ing religious or political except Catholic and Democrat. The 
 Democrats always held campaign meetings there, to pat the 
 faithful on the back, and encourage them to keep the township 
 solid for the dear old Democracy. My Father was a Democrat 
 and my husband had been, but I was a Prohibitionist, and as 
 County President of the W. C. T. U. , I decided to hold a tem- 
 perance meeting in Teutopolis, Teutopolis Township, Effingham 
 County, Illinois. The town and township was good and solid 
 for saloons (and is yet) though there are some good temper- 
 ance friends there now. I had divers warnings that I was pok-
 
 84 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 my head into a lion's mouth to go to Teutopolis, but I said "I'll 
 go over". Our Teacher's Institute was on, and I invited a num- 
 ber of young people who were zealous for temperance to go 
 along. We had a big farm wagon rigged up with mules and 
 driver as motive power, and we could carry 20 passengers, also 
 we had three buggies, and away we went. We took a board 
 along to nail to the side of our wagon for our gas lamp, for we 
 did not feel free to ask any favors. We swung the stars and 
 stripes over our heads, a fine new ten foot flag. We drove be- 
 fore the Monastery and began to sing. It happened to have 
 been a great holiday and many of the people staid' to see the 
 fun, for they took us as a huge joke. We sang, we prayed, we 
 read in the Bible, we talked, we distributed literature, we joked 
 with the crowd, for the Germans are great jokers, we gave 
 pretty cards to the children. One big fellow got a bottle of 
 whiskey, tied a blue ribbon on it and, calling everybody's at- 
 tention to it, said "Look", and drank. Everybody laughed, 
 but our driver, who had been a policeman, scared the boy off. 
 Another big fellow who had a good ear for music "bummbeled" 
 bass to everything we sang, and played the fiddle with his two 
 arms for an instrument; the crowd made merry and we took it 
 in good part so that when we left we heard many cries, "Come 
 again, come again, Good-bye". It was a surprise to some of 
 the Effinghamers who almost laid awake that night expecting 
 to get a brand new sensation, it was supposed we would be as- 
 saulted. Well, they got one sure enough, for we had done what 
 most of the people considered impossible. Some of the Republic - 
 ans gathered to-gether and said, Well, if "Mrs. Kepley" and her 
 gang can have a meeting in Teutopolis I guess we can too". Oh, 
 how they did want a Republican postmaster in Teutopolis. Well, 
 the good Republicans all "shelled out", they hired a train and 
 took everyone who wanted to go free, hired a band, secured a 
 number of their "Big Guns" to speak, and announced and held 
 a Republican meeting in the Solid Democratic Township of the 
 United States of America. From what I heard they had a 
 howling (good) time, but they had a gang of big railroad men 
 along to keep such order as they could, out of that scandalized 
 community. Later in the Fall there was a general election and 
 when the ballots were counted, dreadful to relate there was
 
 A LOVE STORY 85 
 
 found eight Republican ballots, and one Prohibition ballot, and the 
 solid Democratic Township of the United States of America was 
 no more, and it's been broke up ever since. The Republicans 
 got a postmaster, and have one now. Of their trials and tribu- 
 lations I will not tell. Suffice it to say, I planned and carried 
 out the initial meeting; I made the break. But the unkindest 
 cut of all was when some one, a zealous republican, called me 
 a Democrat" after I'd got them what they wanted, for if I had 
 not made the break that they rushed in through, that township 
 would have been solidly Democratic yet. It is largely a farm- 
 ing Community and they are not fickle minded; they move and 
 think strenuously, and so as all over the land our farmers are 
 the solid conservative basis to the Government, but no one 
 among the whole of them in Teutopolis Township had pluck 
 enough to be a Republican, till after I held that meeting Au- 
 gust 5th, 1887.
 
 86 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 WITH HOE AND TILE SPADE AND CORN KNIFE. 
 
 CUTTING WEEDS WITH A CORN KNIFE. 
 
 I am fond of manual work and on the farm I find I can do 
 many things. I cannot plough or -cut trees or dig post holes nor 
 load hay, and I am afraid to run the reaper, but I can harrow 
 and drag, and drive horses and run the hay rake, and I can and 
 do like to use the hoe and tile spade and corn knife best of all 
 the tools. None of these tools require the use of the strong 
 lifting muscles. I like a heavy hoe and I can, when it is 
 sharpened, slash small brush wood, open ditches, clean springs, 
 etc. With the tile spade I can lift and pry and make it do 
 work that spares me. I never shovel with it. With the corn 
 knife I cut bread and meat. It spares my hands and I get on 
 faster, saving time. I cut under brush and small trees with it. 
 I want these tools sharpened well, then I save strength and 
 time and temper with all of them. When the men set posts 
 and stretch wire, or repair fences and other work I can clear
 
 A LOVE STORY 87 
 
 out the fence corners and bushy places with my corn knife. 
 The row of evergreens that marks the road though my farm 
 were lifted, and set out again with the tile spade. I roam the 
 woods and fields for evil weeds and then I slash them with 
 good heart with hoe and corn knife. An old farmer laughed 
 when I told him how I cut saplings with a corn knife, said he 
 never heard of such a thing. It's fine and wholesome too. I 
 can swing a scythe now and was proud as a peacock when I 
 learned how to swing it so it would cut things, and not peril my 
 feet and shins. It's not easy to learn the use of the scythe. I 
 got an old Swede man who was an expert to teach me. I like to 
 saw, but the motion of a saw disturbs my stomach too much. I 
 can hammer and nail with anybody. I have made many of the 
 gates on my farm and hung them after the men set the posts, 
 and I can make good gates too. I hate a heavy old sagger of a 
 gate that nearly kills one to open it and I despise to get over a 
 barb or woven wire fence. So I've about forty gates all told 
 on my place, quite an extravagance. Not to me, for it saves 
 my strength and temper. I like the hoe, tile spade and corn 
 knife best of all the tools. The hammer and hatchet and prun- 
 ing shears I like too; but I like the corn knife and tile spade 
 and hoe best of all the tools on the farm.
 
 88 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE WEATHER MAN, MR. GROUNDHOG. 
 
 Did you ever see the weather man, Mr. Groundhog? Well, 
 he lives on my farm with a lot of his family, and I treat them 
 all well though they do not always fix the weather to suit me. 
 
 There is one place, a deep rocky ravine with such nice places 
 to burrow under the rocks, and mossy banks and ferns and 
 lovely trees, and a spring is near by, where he has a safe re- 
 treat and home. I do not bother or allow him to be disturbed. 
 There is grass and nuts, and corn in the fields near by, and 
 clover, handy, and I make the woodchuck welcome to what he 
 wants. Some of the children who have had time to watch, 
 have told me they have seen the young woodchucks come out 
 of the rocks, and romp and play together and with the older 
 ones. The dogs make regular visits to that ravine and dig and 
 watch and scream and yell, and wear their claws off trying to 
 scratch out woodchucks. The excitement and labor wears the 
 flesh off the dogs too. We laugh to hear them, but no one hisses 
 them on, and no one helps them, and I think the woochucks 
 make a joke of the whole thing. 
 
 I once went along that way with the dogs and they hap- 
 pened to be thinking of rabbits. I saw a groundhog go rolling 
 up the hill with his funny wallow; the dogs did not see him and 
 I did not tell them, and my weather man was soon out of sight. 
 I called "Good luck" and "good hunting" to him as he hurried 
 off. 
 
 Sometimes I see where they burrow great holes in my 
 meadows. I do not like that; I fear for the horses legs, but I 
 stick something in the hole and they can burrow out some 
 other way, and as that is easy for them to do with their strong 
 claws and legs, I do not worry. 
 
 I once found a half grown chuck, with his toes turned up 
 stark dead; his happy life gone out I felt sorry. I do not allow 
 them hunted or killed on my farm. 
 
 One day I went to a bottom field, and on a rail fence the 
 dogs discovered a woodchuck taking a morning parade. They 
 got him off the fence, or he got rattled and jumped off. I 
 yelled to the men to save him, but they preferred the dogs 
 should finish him. So I made a dive and got the "chuck" by his
 
 A LOVE STORY 89 
 
 tail; his teeth were awful but I had on thick leather gloves. I 
 was obliged to hold him high up and away from me for fear 
 he'd get hold of and gnaw me. The dogs were crazy and would 
 not mind, so I yelled and kicked them, with the heavy boots I 
 had on. The woodchuck wriggled, he was heavy; the dogs got 
 him again; then I got him. Meantime we had come near the 
 creek bank, and "chuckie" wriggled loose again; how he ran. 
 It was for dear life. The dogs were in hot pursuit, but, good 
 luck, he found a hole in the bank and in he went like a flash, 
 and the dogs screamed and howled outside, the weather man 
 had escaped. The dogs had some gashes and scratches; I had 
 kicked them, too; the chuck had been bitten and mauled. We 
 had all had exercise enough to last us for a day or more. We 
 had all had a glorious rumpus. 
 
 I knew two ground-hogs who were taken young and brought 
 to town to live. They made their living begging nuts and were 
 interesting pets to everybody. The town dogs were so anxious 
 to catch them, but did not dare to attempt it; they were too well 
 instructed as to consequences; besides, everybody had a kindly 
 eye and friendly hand for the little fellows. When winter 
 came they hibernated under a big barn. Then one was gone 
 and later the other disappeared, probably the call of the woods 
 and the fields, and of their kinsfolks came to them and they 
 left; maybe the weather needed attention and they could not 
 stay; anyhow, they were gone, but they left a pleasant memory 
 behind them of gentleness and cunning ways. Everybody was 
 pleased with the little weather man, the woodchuck or ground- 
 hog.
 
 90 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE SILO. 
 
 The Silo is a big tub that is filled with finely chopped corn, 
 cowpeas, cane or clover; it is made of wood, cement or tiles. In 
 cold countries apples, potatoes, and turnips are chopped and 
 turned into it to make a vegetable kraut, the whole of which we 
 call "Ensilage" and is used for all sorts of farm stock. The 
 Silo originated with the Dairy, and has come to stay, in spite of 
 many things said against it. Sometimes the Silos hold 80-100 
 or 200 tons of this chopped corn &c called "Ensilage". Corn 
 should be cut in the fields as late as possible, hauled to the 
 cutter and then chopped in small bits 1-4 to 1-2 inch in length, 
 then blown into the big cask maybe 18, 24 or 30 feet high, by the 
 blower. It must be tramped down good and hard by the feet 
 of men, and if it is very dry, water should be poured upon it and 
 it will keep indefinitely. It is a festival time when the Silo is 
 filled, and the neighbors go from farm to farm to help each 
 other, cutting the corn in the field, hauling it in, running the 
 engine and the cutter, and then tramping. Dairy cows do 
 their very best fed on it, and the other stock thrives on it; pigs 
 and sheep love "silage", and the hens produce more eggs when 
 they can have it. The Silo is a great Institution for the farmer, 
 and it has come to stay- some farmers have two or three, and 
 in the dry time in August, feed the same as in winter. I own 
 one that holds 100 tons; I'd like another some day.
 
 A LOVE STORY 91 
 
 ' 'Buz-z-z This is the song of the bee. His legs are all yellow, 
 a jolly good fellow and yet a fine worker is he." Old Song. 
 
 Oh honey, honey Bee; 
 
 Feeder of the Gods, 
 
 Feeder of men ; 
 
 Transmuter of the rose to nectar; 
 
 Obedient to the She; 
 
 The miracle of form; 
 
 The mystery of birth; 
 
 The life in death, and death in life, 
 
 Are all in thee, oh honey, honey Bee. 
 
 . I bought me some bees for, from the time the first leaf 
 opens on the trees, and buds and blossoms come out, till the 
 last belated weed and flower blossoms in the fall, there is ample 
 food for them. The buds of the trees swell, become full of 
 pollen, and later on every plant and tree has sweetness in its 
 heart. In the sarvice berry, red bud, dogwood, wild cherry, 
 linden, apple, peach and plum trees, and strawberry, blackberry, 
 raspberry and grapes, there are scented treasures, and at the 
 heart of every plant is sweetness which the bee by its skill and 
 industry converts into food for bees, men and animals; the bear 
 is crazy over honey, and the coon loves it too. 
 
 Some of our bees do not allow us to cross their runs without 
 protest, which usually comes in the shape of an angry "bat", 
 and the bee leaves his stinger behind in some one's flesh, and 
 how it hurts. The only consolation is that the bee signed his 
 death warrant when he stung. We had some black fellows that 
 were awful to chase and sting one; others were peaceable if let 
 alone. Our little black bees made much honey, but when we 
 came to get our share "The Brave", who had boasted they 
 could handle bees, did not want to enter in, when the fearful 
 bees were aroused; in spite of smokings with rags, we found 
 that the stingers of the black bees were active. But there were 
 gloves and wills, went in, and so did the bees, and we took the
 
 92 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 great rich sheets of white honey from the hive; but such screams 
 and yells as arose when the bees got in their work ; Camanche In- 
 dians could not have excelled that. One hive was attended to 
 and the rest left. That night I put on a thick suit and gloves, 
 boots and veil, and by the light of the lantern I, who had never 
 handled a bee, finished the task. One hive I upset, but with 
 a shovel and a wheelbarrow I managed to right the hive and 
 gather up the bees. But oh, how mad they were; I received 
 more than one sting but I secured the honey. 
 
 Swarming was a great time. Such beating of pans and 
 kettles, and throwing of dust and water as was done to settle 
 the swarm. Sometimes we captured the swarm, sometimes 
 we lost it; and sometime we got a swarm that came from else- 
 where, for my woods were full of bee trees, and they came from 
 other farms and from their hives in the woods. 
 
 Bees have enemies, and the moths and roaches came on 
 mine. I was busy and could not see to them and they got the 
 most of my hives; but I still have some and contemplate more. 
 
 The story of the bee is a revelation and an inspiration. 
 Blind Huber found enough in it to fill a life time. Maeter- 
 linck's "Life of the Bee" opens a great vista to the dullest. 
 One who lives on the farm cannot afford not to keep bees. I 
 have learned to respect them, so I do not get stung very often. 
 They teach me the beauty of order and the marvel of the Uni- 
 verse from the obedience of the swarm to its Queen, and the 
 strange faculty she possesses of being at times, of necessity, 
 both male and female; she is both the father and the mother of 
 her children. This last, to a women, affords profound food for 
 thought. Could a woman ever conceive her offspring alone? 
 Witcomb Riley in "Fessler's Bees" pokes fun at the man who 
 would try to teach the bee something out of its order, and its 
 own laws. 
 
 On my farm the bees have pre-empted many trees to their 
 uses. They seem to be experts in finding cozy hollows in 
 crotches and trunks of old monarchs of the forest, and here 
 they set up their lares and penates. They usually are high up, 
 though now and then some foolish bees select places where 
 they may be easily captured and robbed. The expert eye will 
 watch for and find them as they circle to and fro in journeys to
 
 A LOVE STORY 93 
 
 their tree top homes. Once it was when the woods were free 
 that who ever found a bee tree claimed it. The coon, the pos- 
 sum and the bear always had a right and took it, and the bee 
 tree was a pioneer treasure common to all. When conservation 
 and other laws were passed the bee tree was no longer common 
 property, but some still claim it. On my farm many bee trees 
 have been cut by parties who slipped in and broke the law by 
 cutting the tree on another's land, to which a penalty of $20 to 
 the land owner for his tree and a settlement in indictment and 
 a fine with the State is attached. But some will break the law 
 and cut bee trees, so powerful is the old idea of the tree belong- 
 ing to the one who claims to find it. Two men with a cross cut 
 saw, cut a sycamore two feet across the butt and let it fall in 
 my road, and my men had to clear it up before we could go 
 through the field or plough, and I lost my tree. Some others 
 cut another and left the trunk prone. Others cut one that fell 
 into my creek and made a dam that I had to remove, or catch 
 all the debris of the floods and maybe turn the creek into a 
 field. Others were cut, but, though I offer through the papers 
 good rewards and expound the law, a tree will be cut again and 
 I catch no one; but some day I will. 
 
 A neighbor of mine came running red faced to me one day 
 and said, Mrs. Kepley can I cut that sycamore tree in the bot- 
 tom, it's not much account and I've got a swarm of bees in it". 
 I looked at him and said: "The big sycamore"? "Yes", hesi- 
 tatingly. "Well" I replied, "that is a valuable tree, I was 
 offered $16. ,a hundred feet for it in the tree, if it were not hol- 
 low and I would not take it. That tree is mine, and those bees 
 are mine too. If you cut it, I'd have to put a man at it and it 
 would take three days to clear the ground of it, for if the floods 
 came it would float down and smash my fences". I was glad 
 that tree was where we saw it every day, for some would not 
 have ask me, but it would have been smashed down for me to 
 cut up and out. A man got leave of me once to cut a bee 
 tree. He was a tenant of mine and said the tree was "a little 
 no account oak". I took his word for it, but when I later saw 
 that tree I found it was an immense oak that, when it fell, 
 seemed to me to cover a quarter acre of ground, and that was 
 useless with that tree sprawled over it. Another begged so
 
 94 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 hard I sold him a tree for $1. and he was to clear up the trash, 
 taking the trunk and piling the brush, The tree was in a ra- 
 vine, and it was cut, and lies there yet for me to clear up. I 
 have made a law; no more bee trees will I give or sell, and if I 
 catch anyone cutting a tree I will exact my $20. and the State's 
 Attorney can settle the rest. I will keep my bee trees myself. 
 I want to raise more bees and if I had time I could get all the 
 swarms I want in my own bee trees.
 
 A LOVE STORY 95 
 
 PLANT A TREE. 
 
 ' 'He who plants a tree, he plants hope; 
 
 He who plants a tree, he plants love. 1 ' Lucy Larcom. 
 
 Under the greenwood tree who loves to lie with me, 
 And tune his merry throat to a bird's sweet note." 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 My farm abounds in trees. I conserve them without law. 
 Some day the laws of conservation will touch all our timber 
 lands even on the farms. I number as my friends all the trees, 
 and so I set some out that I have not. The Orchard trees, we 
 all plant them. One year I got five apples from my crab trees; 
 how proud I was. The next year I got twenty-five, and the 
 next I picked two jars of them. I said to myself, "I'll have a 
 peck", next year but alas, there came that awful cold winter 
 and spring and I hadn't even one. Now there will be more and 
 more. 
 
 I set out dogwoods, red buds, sassafras, chestnut, willows 
 and sarvice berry trees, and I have cedar, and white, and Aus- 
 trian and other pine trees, and arborvitae, in my door yard. 
 I have seedlings of choice persimmons and other trees I set 
 about my place and some are up and are higher then my head. 
 Yes, everybody plant a tree to enjoy it. 
 
 The red and green anch golden willows delight one on the 
 autumn and winter landscape, and the verdure of the evergreen 
 is a charm against the gray and cold and snow of winter days. 
 The blooming of the trees is a joy to me. I feast myself upon 
 the varied beauty and majesty and dignity of their characters. 
 Let's plant a tree. 
 
 "Woodman spare that tree". My Father used to take hi& 
 children, as they grew 'from babyhood, upon his knee and sing 
 a song to them. It ran: 
 
 "Oh come to the old oak tree, where the coon and the Pos- 
 sum prance, 
 
 Oh come to the old oak tree and join in the jovial dance. 
 
 The coon he is above us, his nest is in the tree, 
 
 We know that he don't love us, but fond of him are we, 
 
 So come to the old oak tree, where the coon and the pos- 
 sum prance,
 
 96 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 Oh, come to the old oak tree, and join in the jovial dance." 
 
 I never saw a child who was not quieted by the song of 
 the old oak tree as my Father sang it and trotted the little one 
 on his knee. 
 
 When the winds blow in a tree we hear the sounds of the 
 sea. When the wind roars in my trees I think of Byron's 
 lines "Man marks the earth with ruin; his control stops with 
 the shore. Upon the watery plain, the wrecks are all thy deed ; 
 nor doth remain a shadow of man's ravage but his own. 
 When for a moment like a drop of rain he sinks into thy watery 
 depths with bubbling groan, without a grave, unknelled, un- 
 coffined and unknown". And the moan and groan and the 
 swash of the sea is in my trees. When the storm winds shake 
 and twist the great trees, and now and then uproot them, I am 
 reminded of my inconsequence. I wonder how the trees on 
 the hillsides learn to throw out roots shaped like a great 
 hand and grasp the soil to hold against the storms. It seems 
 as if they know just how to beat the elements like the wild 
 creatures that adjust their burrows and coats to meet a cold, 
 chill winter coming. Like the corn that clothes itself in husks 
 that indicate the hardness of the winter soon to be on hand, 
 sometimes a tree will build a great mound about its roots. It 
 feels a break in its heart and so it prepares to weather that 
 weakness so long as it can. The trees know too, as all things 
 natural do. 
 
 ^specially I love my walnut trees, of which I have a many. 
 They send their tap roots deep down in the dark, cold earth; 
 their frond like tops tower into the warm blue sky. I love the bit- 
 ter sweet aroma of the leaves and nuts. I am fond of the rich, 
 sweet kernels of the nuts they bring, and in whose cups is 
 never found a worm, and that will keep sweet as long as they 
 are kept dry after proper curing. I know of no other nut of 
 which this can be said. The blue grass loves to grow beneath 
 the walnut trees, and one may always find a carpet of it under 
 them, if the soil is not disturbed by cultivation. The foliage is 
 not dense and one may lie under a walnut tree in ease, and gaze 
 upward to the sky to hearts content, invigorated by the fra- 
 grance of the tree.
 
 A LOVE STORY 97 
 
 THE WALNUT TREE. 
 
 Deep down thy roots do run 
 And tap the sweets that mother earth has hid 
 
 Within her gracious breast, 
 Vigor, sweets, oil, meat, rich perfume. 
 
 The children in the happy Autumn time 
 All riotous with freedom and with joy, 
 
 Garner thy fruits and cure them 
 
 For the winter's fun and frolic by the fire. 
 
 Frond-like and beautiful thy branches turn, 
 Up to the sun and sky and rain and dew, 
 
 Exhaling as in thanks a wholesome draft of fragrance, 
 That comforts me and makes me glad. 
 
 I would my friends were sweet at heart as thee, 
 
 And changeless in their best as thou, 
 
 And that their lives might bless all whom their shadows 
 touch, 
 
 As thou the earth thou wavest above.
 
 98 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE BOSS. , 
 
 A women who had been married and divorced twice once 
 said to me, after I became a farmer, and my own boss, ' 'How 
 do you get the men to mind, who work for you"? "Well", I 
 said "I treat them like gentleman and I pay them, and I do not 
 have much trouble. Sometimes I have as many as a dozen men 
 at work; sometimes less. At haying, threshing, shredding, at 
 silo filling, timber cutting, farming generally, and other work 
 I have a number, but I try not to be "bossy", I do not "jaw". 
 I praise when it is deservable; I do not find fault. If a farm 
 helper is not desirable we soon part company, somehow or 
 other. If any matter arises of a serious nature I call my lawyer 
 in and give him instructions to get a settlement. 
 
 A woman is foolish who has contention with a contrary 
 man. Sometimes when we have a task that is out of the com- 
 mon, we all have a lively time, we exercise our lungs and free 
 our minds of our special notions, then we sift the evidence, ad- 
 judicate things and go at the task which usually comes out all 
 right. 
 
 "The Boss" needs to be polite, treat everybody as a gen- 
 tleman or lady, be appreciative, and pay the bills, and he or she 
 will have little trouble,
 
 A LOVE STORY 99 
 
 OUR HORSES. 
 
 DAN AND DON READY TO HARROW. 
 
 "I will not change my horse with anything that treads but on 
 four pasterns. He bounds from the earth; when I bestride him, I 
 soar, lam a hawk; he trots the air; the earth sings when he 
 touches it; the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the 
 pipe of Hermes" . Henry V. 
 
 In spite of steam and electricity the horse still remains our 
 mainstay on the farm, and doubtless ever will. "With the will 
 of the wild horse subdued and bred on and up, it appears in as 
 many varied forms as the dog to help man. We breed the racer, 
 coach, cob, Percheron, Shire, Clyde, Hambletonian, Kentuckian, 
 Western, Welsh and Russian ponies and the toy Shetland. After 
 all it is the mongrel horse, like the mongrel dog upon which we 
 most depend. 
 
 The wild will of the horse is subdued to the will of man; it 
 is counted the best horse who is most obedient to his Master's 
 will. With no independence of will the horse is often reviled 
 for stupidity. With a bit in his mouth, and a whip and a man be- 
 hind him, he must either go, or like Peter's donkey, jump up and 
 down. A certain man made a wager. He said, "I will ride 
 my horse to a cross roads and, without a sign to him of any 
 kind, he will take the road I will him to go, and it was true; so
 
 100 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 subtle is the Master's will to govern the faithful brute. My 
 brother told me he owned a horse who would suffer extreme 
 punishment rather than obey a certain man he hired; but an- 
 other of his men could take the same horse and get more work 
 out of him than any animal he used. The spirit of this horse 
 was high; he hated a cruel and unjust mind, and the same spirit 
 arose in him as was in the driver. 
 
 I once rode with a Danish farmer who drove a spirited span 
 of mules. I said, "Do these mules ever run off"? He laughed 
 and said, "Oh yes". "What do you do"? "Oh, I keep right 
 still so they will not know how scared I am". Many precipitate 
 runaways by fright and fear of a horse. The less of will in 
 the driver, the less of will in the horse. 
 
 I have driven many horses, by night and by day, and have 
 never met with any serious accidents though in two runaways. 
 I have a wholesome fear of horses but I love them, and I make 
 it a rule to treat them with kindness and respect and keep my 
 wits about me. I have had dear and loving and faithful friends 
 among my horses. Nellie and Tony and Ruby and Charlie and 
 Dan and Don have been my tried and trusty friends. Snip and 
 old Jerry, have been our trusty servants a long time. Nellie, a 
 bright bay, gentle and trusty, could turn and twist a buggy 
 like a man. She was never owned but by three people and 
 everybody loved her. She rests now, good girl, and "Snippie" 
 and Charlie are done with labor too. 
 
 Tony was a dappled gray that was straddled 
 and ridden by the boys from a colt, but he was 
 hardy and as good as could be, and he had but two 
 owners. He now rests from his labors on my farm. 
 He had not such good brain power as Nellie, but he 
 was true and affectionate. He had a way of pre- 
 tending he was scared and he'd tip toe sideways; 
 making believe he was going to do something bad, 
 but he never did. He had a pretty fashion of tak- 
 TONY j n g me by the sleeve, placing his head against my 
 breast and whispering to me. My husband used often to say he 
 made love to me, and he did try to tell his affection. 
 
 Dan and Don, my two blacks, are aged alike, but Dan is 
 boss and Don minds. Dannie orders all the horses he is hitched
 
 A LOVE STORY 101 
 
 with, by nips and head shakings and teeth showing, and some- 
 times by a little foot shaking. I can trust Dannie to the last 
 notch. When I drive him about, he minds me to the last. When 
 I drive Don about, he makes me mind. If he wants to hurry 
 down a hill he will, no matter if I bounce almost out, or lose my 
 whip, or am riled in temper; he goes his own gait. I can drive 
 Danny and rest; when I drive Don I'm good and tired. Dannie 
 can open stall doors and gates with lips and head and heels; he 
 generally gets through and he is full of sly wisdom. Don is 
 of race stock, and if he had not implicit confidence in Dan, I 
 would have had trouble when I drove them. Race horses are 
 spoiled as a rule and their progeny is apt to be contrary. When 
 Don gets scared, or thinks he is, Dannie is as cool as a summer 
 day, and Don concludes things are all right and behaves. Don 
 is mean to new horses, biting and kicking them; Dannie is kind. 
 When I bring these two good friends in from a trip they look at 
 me so kindly and expectantly and I pat their pretty heads and 
 thank them, and I ask God to bless these faithful friends of 
 mine. A man to whom I told this once, said, "Do you think they 
 understand"? Of course they do, and they love me for it. I 
 feel for them, for horses have a hard life at best, and they 
 know it. 
 
 Old Jerry is a big bay mongrel, stout enough to pull great 
 loads, and willing, but he has his troubles by being hitched to 
 horses who can't pull even, with him. 
 
 Snip was a splendid fellow, black and handsome, and a 
 goer. He was the horse the boys lashed up hill and down and 
 worked out of hours; he was handsome and high spirited to the 
 last. Now he rests forever. We never sell an old horse; we 
 never destroy one; we share what they helped us earn until 
 they get their call. Four passed quickly and with little suffer- 
 ing. I trust the others will go that way dear, kind friends who 
 served us all the years. 
 
 Joker and Jo, my big young team, are bright bay, and 
 kind. They know me well, though new to the place. With 
 kindness and firmness the horse is our faithful friend, and I 
 want my horses to be my friends. We cannot do without them. 
 They are good to us if we are good to them. We are the only 
 God they know, and we serve God by being faithful to them.
 
 102 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 FLOWER GOWNS. 
 
 I can take the Madonna Lily and, as I study it, I fashion a 
 lovely gown; it must be purest white and of satin, but it 
 must also have the cool shimmer of ice upon it. So I find 
 me lovely chrystal beads and drape it, and trim both sleeves 
 and waist. Upon the breast just where the satin lies across 
 the heart I see a fluffy bow of yellow must be placed to simulate 
 the lily's golden heart; and here and there I tuck some shining 
 pieces of green silk that shall suggest the lily's leaves and 
 stem. Around my lady's neck a strand of emeralds must be 
 placed, and on her hair, a little cap or bow of green must rest 
 to simulate the Lily's cup and stem, and chrystal beads must trim 
 it. The heart is the chalice of the soul, and the golden fluff 
 that rests over it is the lily's heart suggested, and the lady 
 wears her Lily Gown and all admire. I scent it with the lily's 
 odor and then it is complete. 
 
 And now I take a Rose a red, red rose so soft and sweet 
 and fluffy with leaf on leaf. I use some silk to match the rose and 
 fluff it softly and drape my lady with it. Perhaps she needs a 
 tiny bit of yellow silk tucked in her belt: and on her head she 
 too must have a cap, of green or bronze, and deep red roses all 
 have bronzy leaves; and everywhere she can she must place red 
 velvet of a darker hue to make her rose gown true. Now take 
 the rubies red, and drape her slender neck and wrists; then 
 bring rose odors and perfume her garment through and through, 
 and then her gown is done, except a ruby ring to set it off. 
 
 And shall I make a Pansy gown? Well, fetch me purple 
 stuffs of varied hues, all velvet, rich dark purple up to violet, so 
 pale it is almost white, and out of this we can fashion a gown 
 that is fit to clothe a Queen. With royal purple make the gown, 
 the peplum out of lighter hues shall be, and the waist of varied 
 hues of violet. Make a girdle of rich gold ; now hang pale ame- 
 thysts upon the lady's neck and on her brow; then on her slender 
 finger place a ring that's violet hued, and let her cap be green 
 and gold and soft white velvet mixed, and call the pansies in 
 to bring their sweet perfume, and this robe is complete. 
 
 So if we would, we could run the garden through, and get 
 all sorts of patterns for our gowns and hats and shoes and
 
 A LOVE STORY 103 
 
 gloves, and jewels too. I think the butterflies would trail such 
 garments for their sweets, and hearts and minds would grow 
 like flowers too. 
 
 THE LEAF WAGON. 
 
 On my farm we have so many splendid leaves. We do not 
 burn them; we gather many, and throw them in fields and 
 plough them under. We use them in the chicken house. We 
 bed pigs and cattle with them often. I needed something to 
 gather them in, so I bought the running gears of an old surry, 
 using two light 2x4 studs to make the foundation for a long 
 bed which was floored upon the two pieces. I had six good 
 big holes bored in the four corners and between, and in these 
 we stuck tall hickory saplings, cut off, trimmed and sharpened; 
 around, and to these we stapled six foot chicken wire and fas- 
 tened it to the bed. Hitching a horse to this, we gathered the 
 leaves and often piled it to the top. The rear was left open, 
 but the wire swung so we could use it as a door. We gather 
 the leaves in large clothes baskets, throw them in and press 
 and push them until we have a solid mass to haul in. I love to 
 drag great armsfull of sweet, clean leaves into the basket and 
 press them hard, then carry and dump them in my leaf wagon. 
 I love in fall and on dry winter days to walk among the leaves 
 and kick them with my feet and hear them rustle and see them 
 fly. We always said the cattle slept well and had festivals 
 when they had a new supply of fresh leaves. All around child- 
 ren and women will find it pleasing and clean work to gather 
 leaves, and if everybody who has leaves had a leaf wagon, more 
 leaves would be gathered and made use of for all sorts of pur- 
 poses, and health would invigorate those who gather and haul 
 them in. A leaf wagon is a good tool to use on the farm and a 
 source of pleasure as well as of usefulness.
 
 104 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 "WATER? WATER EVERYWHERE AND NOT A DROP TO 
 
 DRINK." 
 
 THE WELL. 
 
 There was water galore on my farm, but it was not near 
 the houses, and the water was hauled till I was weary of it. 
 Everybody likes good drinking water cool and near anyway. I 
 contemplated a well on the upland near the houses. The water 
 we had was in fine springs but in the glens and ravines. Every- 
 body scoffed and said "You can't get water on that hill", and I 
 heard all the yarns from far and near of the folly of expecting 
 water on the top of a hill where the land dipped down to the 
 river and the creek. I had investigated gas engines, and hy- 
 draulic rams to no good, to raise the water from the springs. I 
 had a neighbor near by who had a hole seventy feet deep and 
 it was, and is yet, "as dry as a bone" he said; and he sang a 
 song all the time to me of the certainty of that well I wanted 
 being a dry one. It is a true a few hills yield water, but every- 
 thing was against it, and some laughed and joked me for think- 
 ing of doing such a foolish thing as digging a well on a hill. 
 
 Well, I got a man and his outfit, and he said he had never 
 failed on a well; he "witched 'em. Well he witched with his 
 peach limbs and said "it drawed so" it mighty near skinned 
 the twigs, and skinned his hands, and water was to be had at 
 twenty-eight feet. " I wanted a five foot well in diameter so he 
 dug and dug and blasted, and not a sign of water, to a depth of 
 thirty-three feet. Then came a ten days rain and he got afraid 
 of a cave in, so advised me to wall it up, and, as I knew his 
 fear; though he did not mention that, and I was afraid it might 
 cave in, and I did not want that on my soul, I gave the order to 
 wall the hole up; in addition he struck damps and a lantern would
 
 A LOVE STORY 105 
 
 die out every time at twelve feet down. I was up against it. Af- 
 ter a while I got another man to come and he said he could drill 
 twenty feet and get water, so, as the gas had left, I told hinr, 
 to go on. He drilled twenty feet and all he struck was. 
 some more bad air and he got scared and got out, and after that 
 drilling not a drop of water ever staid in that hole; it went 
 4 'plumb" dry, as we say in my country. I had a man come and 
 dig and wall me three cisterns and then we had water, but 
 that dry hole was a "bete noir" to me. I was laughed at and 
 beat out. 
 
 I told my cistern man and his helper to mix and pour a cou- 
 ple of tubs of cement in the bottom of that dry well, and they 
 did. I spouted a big barn 150 feet away and laid tile down to 
 that hole, but the water ran off; I do not know where it went. 
 Oh my! such aggravations, and money actually in a hole, and 
 me laughed at, and had to swallow "I told you so" all along. 
 
 Finally a neighbor of mine who had a number of wells on 
 his farm, and he was on a steep hill too, said "Open your well, 
 it's good to let the air in it, it helps to draw the water". Now 
 be it known that dry holes sometimes do "draw water", as it 
 is called. I have heard of people who drew a few barrels of 
 water and threw into dry holes, and water came; and others 
 utilize the dry holes as cisterns, and some day they are delighted 
 to find the water has "broke in" as they say. All about my 
 farm springs break out on the bluffs, low down as a rule how- 
 ever. I had hoped and hoped, but saw no signs of water. I 
 said to this 'neighbor, "I hate to spend another cent on that 
 thing; it has cost me so much". "Oh", he said, laughing, "You 
 need not spend much; get a store box for a curb, and a rope and 
 bucket". I came home, looked for a box and found one. Next 
 day I found some stuff that did for a frame. I called one of 
 the men to help me and we toggled the box and frame on the 
 platform. I found a pulley among some odds and ends and I 
 got a rope and bucket; then we began on it. When it rained, I 
 thought we should have water anyway, and so we had, and we 
 used a great deal from it, and as the earth was soaked from the 
 heavy rains that had poured into it I suppose it held out; but 
 it got dry weather. For a long time it did not rain and then 
 the water stood at one level and never changed. I knew this
 
 106 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 because the rope ran up to the knot in the end and that knot 
 was stopped by the pulley so it could not change, and the water 
 stood at a level all the time. So I said "Glory be, she's broke 
 in and no one will make me feel like a fool any more about that 
 well". 
 
 My neighbor who had had a dry hole for years, and who 
 had croaked so much to me, is now running water into his well 
 in hopes to draw water to it. So the old adage is verified 
 / 'where there is a will there is way", and we have a well and 
 -good cold water galore, in addition to springs and cisterns, and 
 .a creek and river; and there's water, water everywhere and 
 all you want to drink, for people and stock. 
 
 To the man who witched my well and walled it, I sent word 
 "The water has broken into the well you dug". He did look so 
 sneaking when he told me it was no use to dig any more, that 
 though I was mad and disgusted I still had a feeling for his 
 losing his reputation as a water witch. I've not gone back on 
 the theory yet for the good old earth is veined with water, and, 
 as the beasts scent their prey and the dog can follow his Mas- 
 ter's feet among a thousand, I'll not say some men and women 
 are not sensitive to many things the most of us know nothing 
 about. So there may be something in the water witch after 
 all, and anyway w r e now have water in the well and I do hot 
 complain of the cost and trouble any more.
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 107 
 
 THE GENTLEMAN IN PATCHES. 
 
 "A King may make a Knight or Lord 
 
 A Marquis, Duke and a' that, 
 
 But honesty needs no reward, 
 
 And Kings can never buy that." Burns. 
 
 CHARLEY, JOHN, JEROME AND WILLIAM. 
 Men That Worked For Me. 
 
 I was amused the other 
 day to read an article in 
 a well known magazine, 
 written by the official who 
 looks after the people who 
 have presentation at the 
 English Court, that there 
 is a whole line of the little 
 nobility who have no 
 chance in any land where 
 Kings and Queens and 
 Emperors rule, to be hon- 
 ored with a presentation 
 at Court; but that there 
 is no bar whatever, so far as an American is concerned as 
 to receiving that honor provided certain conditions are met. 
 It was amusing to an American to read the explanation by this 
 gentleman of. the reasons why, which after all, resolved them- 
 selves into the one fact that your real American is always a 
 gentleman, or gentlewoman, no matter what his or her station. 
 The American has the real nobility which has no dependence on 
 birth or titles conferred by a man or woman in power. I 
 thought of our men on the farms^ the most of whom do not dis- 
 dain to wear patched garments, nor their families to patch them; 
 but as men, they are as serene in their patched garments, as 
 cool headed as kindly and polite as if they had been especially 
 taught and were garbed in broad cloth. It is the real nobility 
 the American possesses, and which the Nations of the earth 
 confess, and so, we find The Gentleman in Patches, often, and no 
 one thinks anything of it. The farm, after all, is the great 
 leveler as well as the great elevator of men. Men and women
 
 . .108 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 are kind to each other, they set up no false standards; they all 
 work together and the best worker is the best man, and is the 
 most sought after. The farm people are kind to each other, 
 have sympathy for each other, depend on each other and wear 
 patches together, and develop the deep, true qualities that 
 make a man and women real.
 
 A LOVE STOR 
 
 "EDMUND JL 
 
 THE ORCHARD. 
 
 THE LONG LANE WITH VIEW OF ORCHARD 
 
 I set out about twelve acres in orchard the first year I came 
 to my farm. I selected rolling ground; it had been in corn. 
 There were some tremendous trees on this ground that the men 
 had to saw down, and when these old monarchs of the forest 
 fell, there was a mess of dead limbs to clear up and haul away 
 or burn. T had one helper who brought his big log wagon and 
 took off several large tree bodies and some limbs; the rest it be- 
 came my task to burn. Oh, how long it did take to burn that 
 stuff; one old fellow I burned on, the best part of a week, day 
 and night. I went many a time to see that fiery eye wink in 
 the darkness of the evening at me. I gathered trash, chunks, 
 etc. and kept the fire going. And I burned out stumps too, 
 though they are not all gone yet. 
 
 Of apple trees I planted what seemed to me to promise best 
 returns and I did not follow the choice of others altogether. 
 Some apple trees I knew, also their habits, so I put out some 
 Roman Beauties, little red Romanites, Genitens, Grimes Golden, 
 Minkler, Jonathan, Wine Sap, Duchess of Oldenburg, Early
 
 110 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 
 
 Harvest, a few Ben Davis, and some others. My apples I 
 bought of a good nursery man in my own County of Effingham : 
 I bought peaches in Nebraska, and cherries and pears in New 
 York. Nebraska has such wide places to plant that her nurs- 
 erymen sell at better rates. The New York people are better 
 stocked on cherries, pears, and plums, and besides, it pays them 
 to advertise, and they make inducements to customers. Since all 
 nursery stock is under State inspection, it is safe to buy. 
 
 My trees grew well, but "Brer Rabbit" found I had an 
 orchard and came to see it; the rascal tried his teeth on my 
 trees in spite of the fact that every one has been smeared with 
 a blue stone tallow and white wash, that a local orchardist told 
 me to use. My heart was "broke," so to speak, and I washed 
 with other washes. But "Brer Rabbit" knew a thing or two 
 and came again. I replaced trees and racked my brain for 
 something to beat him out. I read, I asked, and I thought. I 
 wanted something to last till the trees were out of danger of 
 rabbits. Finally I bought a lot of one and a half inch wire 
 netting and each tree got a coop around it about eight inches 
 in diameter, and that will last till the trees are out of danger 
 from "Brer Rabbit." I feared that the rabbits would stick 
 their heads through the meshes, but the old gentleman who put 
 them on was right when he said ''No they will not, they are 
 afraid of traps." 
 
 Thompson Seton is correct when he says the wolves and 
 coyotes will not touch a carcass, if a piece of iron lies on it. I 
 find when a tree is missed in a row that the rabbits keep away; 
 the wire encircled trees in the row "skeered 'em", as we say 
 in country lingo. 
 
 A man told me he would rather have weeds than an 
 orchard, but I would not. To be sure we are obliged to attend 
 to our trees now and feed them and fight the pests that assail 
 them, with spraying and digging, but it pays. I should have 
 had apples and peaches sooner from my planting had it not been 
 for a severe cold winter. 
 
 When the fruit trees bloom in the spring, what is so beauti- 
 ful and sweet. Here we have colors and perfume blended in 
 a riot of both, and the sense of beauty is satisfied. What is 
 so lovely as to see everywhere the sweet pink of the peach and
 
 A LOVE STORY 111 
 
 apple trees, and the snowy veils of the plum and pear? In me 
 a joy awakens that I cannot express, and we who farm take de- 
 light in thinking what returns will come to us from all this 
 show and delight. 
 
 Not Millais, Tadema, nor Turner, nor the ancient or modern 
 painters of all the lands can hang upon my walls any more than 
 little fragments of all we can see and enjoy in the orchards in 
 spring in summer in autumn, and that is the pattern and the 
 model of all they paint; we farmers posess the real thing, and 
 we may, if we will, rise to it, in culture. 
 
 I bought my small fruits, grapes, currants, gooseberries, 
 rasberries, blackberries and strawberries in Michigan where 
 they sold at more reasonable rates. The winey pieplant, and 
 asparagus plants, and some shrubs I obtained in New Jersey; 
 my roses I got in Virginia, my evergreens in Illinois and Ne- 
 braska. So my orchard and garden is a sort of history of States. 
 I received plant catalogues and farm, garden and orchard pub- 
 lications, and took out of all what seemed good. 
 
 I would not be without an orchard, what we do not use, we 
 can preserve, and can, and sell, and that makes for the farm and 
 for someone that needs work. 
 
 So I love my orchard; I dearly love my orchard with its 
 mantle of beauty in the spring, and for its returns in values in 
 the summer and fall.
 
 112 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE CATS. 
 
 "The harmless necessary cat. " Shakspeare. 
 
 I have always kept a cat, some- 
 times cats: red, white, black, 
 blue, yellow or spotted cats, com- 
 mon and uncommon too, and 
 have enjoyed them and cared for 
 them. I remember well Peter, 
 and Clara, Pigeon, Tau, Basil, 
 Priscilla, Alexander, Tally Ho, 
 Uncle Bill, Toby, Janey, Julie, 
 BASIL. Matilda, Lizzie, Launce, Sitten 
 
 Boo, Sissie White, Ittle Boo, Kizzie, Goldie, Dennis, Little Sis- 
 ter, Johnnie, Coon, Rufus and other Common Cats. Of Angoras, 
 Bubby Bird, "Tucky King," Babe, Dora Dear, Dear Little Tod- 
 dles, Midget, Philip, Big Boy, Nita, and dear little frolicksome 
 kittens galore. 
 
 Cats are as different in nature and temper as dogs and peo- 
 ple. The Egyptians worshipped them; the great and good have 
 enjoyed their friendship; they have set at the hearthstones of 
 men through all the ages. Mohamed would not move the sleeve 
 of his robe, when his pet cat sat beside him on his table, and took 
 a nap on it. Cats are initially for mice and rat catching, but 
 they are objects of beauty and satisfying as humble friends; 
 they are so tidy and cleanly, and sing such comfortable songs 
 to one. The Orientals begin to call for them; rats are supposed 
 to spread the Bubonic plague and cats destroy rats, hence they 
 are wanted to kill the rats. We are now asked to breed from 
 the best mousers. Our mail service relies upon the cats to pro- 
 tect the mail; they are on the regular payroll of the .Govern- 
 ment. Bankers, Grocers and Bakers, are obliged to keep them 
 to perserve their stocks. I think of the Pied Piper of Hamlin 
 Town, when I read of people who want to kill off the cats, and 
 who raise the cry that they spread disease. Cats abate disease; 
 and if we kill them off we shall find, like the poor creatures 
 who killed the birds in Longfellow's "Birds offKillingsworth",
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 113 
 
 that we shall have to fetch them back to escape the ravages of 
 the rhodents, rats and mice, or be eaten out of house and home 
 ourselves. They do well who build refuges for cats. The peo- 
 ple who want to kill our faithful dumb friends grow in nature 
 like savage beasts with no sense. It's strange how certain 
 punishment follows our sins, even in this. 
 
 When I suspect a mouse, I call Lizzie, my black and white 
 cat. It is interesting to watch her. She knows just what it is 
 I want, at once, and she pats and presses and feels with her 
 little fore feet and if there is a mouse she gets him, there is no 
 escape for that poor squeaker. She is a great hunter in my 
 barns. 
 
 Dora Dear, my white 
 Angora is fine for rats and 
 mice. Babe, a young An- 
 gora, and deaf as a post, 
 made mice fly that got in 
 his way when he hunted, 
 and the Angoras will all 
 catch rats and mice. 
 
 BUBBY BIRD. The idea that catg 
 
 have no affection is foolish. They are timid by nature and 
 have always been chased and hunted by men and dogs, and have 
 learned to be on the look out for danger. They use their claws 
 to help themselves, and catch and grab if necessary. I was 
 once helping a cat called Basil, because he was so sweet, catch 
 a mouse. It was dark, in the barn behind the grain bin, he saw 
 my finger move, and thought it was a mouse, and he grabbed it 
 with his claws. They sunk in deep and drew a lot of blood. I 
 did not slap or reproach Basil; I did as Johny Appleseed did the 
 rattle snake that bit him in the heel when he set the head of his 
 scythe on it. I learned just how a cat catches a mouse, how 
 sure they strike, and I excused Basil and sucked my finger and 
 spat. Cats do not mean to strike us when they scratch as a rule; 
 it is just grabbing to save themselves; the cat well treated, 
 sheaths her claws to her friends as carefully as we sheathe 
 ours; if well treated they sing us a wholesome song of Content; 
 but they must be happy to sing their song, and be full of peace 
 that comes from trust in man; hunted and abused cats do not
 
 114 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 sing. They give us lessons in health and happiness, they, sug- 
 gest to us the recuperative processes of rest, and how to enter 
 the great silences that restore body and soul. Cats vary in 
 their ways so much they are deeply interesting; one cannot bear 
 to be handled; another cannot get enough of petting; but they 
 can think and love, all of them, and it is a pleasure to watch 
 them, and listen when they sing their "Thanky Mam" songs, 
 some so loud and coarse, some so fine, some in such ecstacy of 
 happiness they fairly wear themselves out. I had a dear little 
 Angora, Toddles. He was so little and his Mother had not 
 enough food for him. He was fed from a spoon. I thought he 
 was a cripple for a long time, but he just had bench legs, and 
 came out all right. He always demanded a piece of paper or a 
 magazine to sleep on. He had such a time to grow up he had 
 special favors. Once he was so sick we thought he was dead 
 several times. He ran all over the farm with me, and when his 
 little short legs would play out, he would stop and howl for me, 
 to make sure he was not lost. Sometimes when I could not 
 sleep he came and cuddled down and sang to me, such a dear 
 little song I was comforted and sleep came. So he became to 
 me the Little God of Sleep. And if I could I'd model him in 
 clay or stone as that Deity. He was almost human in many 
 ways. Toddles was a sweet dear little fellow and he loved to 
 touch my hand with his small rough tongue, and he had one 
 little caress for me no other cat I ever owned gave me. He 
 would, if I laid my hand On his breast, grasp it in his paws and 
 hug it hard and close; his whole body was tense with his loving 
 squeeze. I have had cats who would open and shut their mouths 
 as if talking, but never make a sound. So many ways these 
 little friends show their affection ; it touches the heart. They love 
 so, and are so helpless without human friends. 
 
 I had a cat that would howl dismally if I was gone too long. 
 I have kept birds and cats at the same time and the cats would 
 sit on the window sill beside them. I have had cats that would 
 follow me all over tow r n by night and once in a while one that 
 would follow me by day. It's well I do not live in Cotton Math- 
 er's day. Clara Pigeon followed me to church one evening, but 
 did not presume to enter, but about the time the sermon began 
 she made a wild dash through the church, in the front door and
 
 A LOVE STORY 115 
 
 out the back, for it was summer. She howled and her bell 
 jingled as she ran. She made a live sensation in that sermon.' 
 Like Mary's lamb, she lingered near and went home with me. 
 
 I had a black and white spotted cat I called Tally Ho, for he 
 was like a coach dog in spots and color. He made up a little game 
 of tag he played with me. It was cute and interesting to see how 
 he made it up. Tally was a good thinker ; he had nervous prostra- 
 tion when a kitten and had to stay in the house all winter and 
 be cared for. In the Spring I turned him out to get physical 
 culture, as I thought he needed it. I wished him to attend the 
 Cat Operas which rage at that season. I thought the Basso 
 profundos and the Tenorores would keep him actively engaged. 
 I think they did, for his health improved and he was able to run 
 to the top of a tall tree in a neighbors yard. I judged some 
 feline Caruso, or Basso, was in hot pursuit of him and in the ex- 
 citement of the occasion he ran up the tree; he did not come 
 home, I called, and heard a lamentable howl, and there he was 
 in the tree top too scared to come down. I got a long ladder 
 and a man, and he was rescued, coming down to terra firma with 
 his claws rafely planted in the man's coat. Another time some 
 feline swashbuckler chased him up a vine at the side of the 
 house at night, and there he hung squalling, until a ladder and 
 a man and a lantern got him to earth again. Cats, like 
 people, do great things under the stress of excitement that they 
 are scared to think of when done. Tally Ho got well, sol judge 
 physical culture is good for cats as well as men. Tally Ho was 
 original. He climbed a stout vine at the side of my house and 
 got on the flat tin roof; he'd run and jump there in the early 
 morning making a great noise. Sometimes he would come to 
 the edge of the roof, look over and call me, and say things 
 which I translated to mean "Missy, Missy, look at me. Ain't I 
 a big cat? See how high up I am and I ain't 'fraid" etc. 
 
 I had a big blue and white cat, Tommy Tinker, who would 
 call my big dog Sol when cats bothered him, and Sol all excite- 
 ment would race out and run up a ladder on a shed roof where 
 the battle was on: Tom rejoiced in the rout and praised Sol. 
 I think this was why he sometimes combed Sol's head and ears 
 for him. Tom lived to be 18 years of age.
 
 116 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 When my cats hear my voice they run to me, not because 
 I feed them, but because they love me and the cat, like all 
 dumb brutes, loves all who are good to it. People who mistreat 
 animals are accursed. I agree with the poet 
 I would not number as my friend 
 The man who needless sets his foot upon a worm. ' ' 
 
 The cat lives and loves and serves us faithfully; they are 
 responsive to kindness; they are not at their best under ill treat- 
 ment. The people who denounce dogs and cats and injure 
 and ridicule them are lacking in noble qualities, I think. 
 
 When my cats must pay the debt we all owe, I feel to thank 
 them for the pleasure they gave me; for the burdens they light- 
 ened; for the .lessons they taught me. I feel to thank God for 
 them. I recite their virtues. I say, ' 'Thank you dear, little loving 
 friends, for all you gave so truly tome in affection", and good- 
 bye. Some day I shall know why you are. I would be glad to 
 see you again in some far off happy day, when I may study the 
 why, of all things, and the how, and of you".
 
 A LOVE STORY 117 
 
 MY DIAMOND RING. 
 
 I always wanted a diamond ring. It is a symbol of values, 
 and beauty of the highest order; I love its wonder and its mys- 
 tery. I marvel at the light that flashes from the gem. I 
 wanted a ring of first water, white and clear, without a flaw, 
 just a large, glorious Solitaire. My husband would have placed 
 a ring on every finger of my two hands had I so desired, but I 
 wanted so many other things and I could not see my way to 
 all. 
 
 We were both interested in a great Reform. I wanted 
 books, literature, and so many other things of like nature for 
 that; I wanted so much for the thousands of children we taught 
 the new life in a great reform; so my diamond ring was trans- 
 muted into lives and deeds. I taught my children the story of 
 the little maid out of whose mouth came roses, pearls, rubies 
 and diamonds, and that was better than a ring on my own 
 finger. I studied the glorious hues of all the precious stones, the 
 topaz, the ruby, the garnet, emerald, saphire, opal, amethyst, 
 and their glitter and glamour in the plumage of my great bronze 
 turkeys, and in the magnificent colors of my peacocks; and in 
 the cardinal, and blue, and jay and other birds. 
 
 I can see the glitter of the diamond in a drop of rain or 
 dew, and now and then the whole heavens gives me a treat 
 with a rainbow; and each night the stars out sparkle any gem. 
 The noonday sun dares me to gaze upon his face. But my 
 diamond ring it does not glitter upon my hand and I am forced 
 to be content with larger things. How many women long for 
 lovely things, but give their values to their children. My farm 
 is rich in things more satisfying than jewels are after all, so I 
 have no loss? But still I love a diamond ring. And I'd love to 
 own and wear one after all.
 
 118 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 MY DOGS. 
 
 SAMPSON, WALDO AND ANGELO. 
 
 "He (the dog) is the only living being that has found and 
 recognizes an indubitable, tangible, unexceptionable and definite 
 god; he is born our friend; while his eyes are still closed he be- 
 lieves in us; even before his birth he has given himself to man; 
 man loves the dog, but how much more he onght to love it". 
 Maeterlinck. 
 
 11 1 think Crab my dog, 62 the sourest natured dog that lives. 
 My Mother weeping, my Father wailing, my sister crying, our 
 maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all the house in 
 great perplexity; yet did nit this cruel hearted cur shed one tear
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 119 
 
 nor speak a ivord". "Nay I'll be sworn. I have sat in the 
 stocks for puddings he hath stolen else he'd have been executed. 
 I have stood on the pillory for geese he hath killed, otherwise 
 he had suffered for it. Thou thinkest not of this now." -Two 
 Gentleman of Verona. 
 
 I have always loved that faithful friend or man the dog. 
 I have owned and loved, and been loved by Jim, Don, Sol, Samp- 
 son Thu, Roderick Dhu, the Twins, Roger, Waldo, Billy Butler, 
 Bussie, Jackie Gray, Sallie, Babbie, Lady, the Red Budders, Peg- 
 otty and Angelo. These have been my own particular following 
 of canine lovers through the years. I have had many dog friends 
 who would have gladly attached themselves to me if I had let 
 them. A dog has a subtle instinct like a child, and he knows a 
 friend, and he longs for a master and for love. 
 
 Jim, and Jackie Gray, were scotch terriers, Roger was a 
 pedigreed St. Bernard, Billy Butler had all the marks of a 
 pointer, but his mother was part hound I was told, and Bill's 
 big bellow was certainly a gift from that breed. Except Roger, 
 none of my dogs were pure bred, but they lived and loved and 
 served and taught me, and lightened and brightened life for 
 me; their hearts were true as steel to me and mine. 
 
 Dr. Adams who wrote "Where is my Dog", says the mon- 
 grel has the best brain capacity of any dog; he says any argument 
 for immortality is as good for the dog as for man. As for me, I 
 
 ^ find my .dogs are like people, no two 
 
 alike, they could all think and under- 
 stand ; they varied in capacity and temper. 
 Sallie was the humblest dog I ever 
 owned and she was always getting into 
 trouble by it, and finally it brought her 
 to an untimely death. Billy Butler got 
 along with the least minding of any of 
 my dogs. He knew things mighty well 
 and I often laughed to see him thinking. 
 He was strong as a bull, and could bel- 
 low like one. Hunting was his delight; 
 he loved all the cats and delighted to 
 BILLY BUTLER. scratch their backs and they all loved
 
 120 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 Bill. Roger, the St. Bernard was six feet from tip to tip 
 of toes when he lay outstretched. He was a dear, good fel- 
 low but, like so many fine bred dogs, was short lived. 
 
 Jackie Gray was worth his weight in rats on my farm any 
 day. We had no rats when Jack ranged; he always told us 
 when he found a rat and if he couldn't get it, some one helped 
 him, and he got the rat. He was waylaid by a half bull dog 
 which had been taught to fight and murdered by it on his own 
 premises. We have to chase rats now. 
 
 Sampson Thu was a good thinker, and astute at working 
 out his own particular dog problems, especially as they related 
 to me. Roderick Dhu was cute enough, but he loved his own 
 way and found it hard to come to mine. 
 
 Sampson and Waldo saved my life. "Sampie" was small, 
 black as ink and short legged and determined. Waldo was a 
 setter crossed with shepard and was a noble dog. He was 
 buff and tan in color, with black and white trimmings, and long 
 haired; he had lovely eyes and. a noble head. He had been 
 abused before I got him and it took me a long time before I 
 could work the sense of fear out of him. He got over his fear, 
 and with Sampson attacked a fellow who tried to murder me. 
 Waldo got the bullet in his foot and it clipped out a piece of 
 flesh. A great, vicious bull dog attacked him and hurt him so badly 
 he finally died of it. I hate bull dogs and think a law ought to 
 forbid their breeding; they are poor, unfortunates of the dog 
 tribe who have had their good dog qualities bred out of them ; 
 many of them are vicious as wild beasts, and they often attack 
 their own masters and kill people and children and dogs and 
 cats, they can never be trusted fully I think. 
 
 Babbie and Lady are two little house dogs that go in my 
 buggy to keep me warm and "comfy" when the weather is 
 cold. Lady is a busy body who goes hunting mice and rabbits 
 and rats till she is half crazy. She chases the chickens out of 
 the yard if I say "Get the Shoo Shoos." She has been taught 
 it is against the law to hurt them but she makes them "git". 
 
 Babbie is a little doll dog who would like to be held and 
 petted the most of the time. She'd like to run, but she is too 
 short legged and fat. She thinks she is very brave and barks 
 with great fierceness, and domineers over Lady who is her daugh-
 
 A LOVE STORY 121 
 
 ter. If left too long alone she indulges in pitiful bowlings. She 
 has a funny little fashion of begging; we call it saying her pray- 
 ers, and she gets many favors out of her humble petitions. 
 
 The "Budders" are half gown red pups children of Sallie 
 Bailie. One we call Red Budder, the other Budder White; one 
 being solid red, the other marked with white. They have a 
 great time screaming and crying when I have been away a day 
 or so and get back. They seem to want to tell me how lonesome 
 they have been. Poor Budders poor dogs I wonder if it is 
 true the souls of unhappy mortals are imprisoned in you to work 
 out their salvation in yonr lowly lives! 
 
 On the farm we must keep dogs; the rats, coons, possum, 
 mink, muskrat, weasel, foxes and other creatures would soon 
 end the poultry business if we did not, and we who live on the 
 creeks and rivers, must see to it that the foot of the dog passes 
 over the land, that the wild creatures may keep their places and 
 not poach on ours; the farmer needs dogs. 
 
 The dogs amuse us in their wild chasing of rabbits, for 
 "Brer Rabbit" runs them silly, and then cuts a sharp right an- 
 gle, the dogs run far ahead and before the dogs recover Brer Rab- 
 bit is gone for good, and we sometimes see him sneaking up the 
 back way home. The rabbit is a good joker when it comes to 
 dogs. 
 
 All dogs are teachable, some more, some less apt. I've 
 taught them to climb ladders, jump, roll over, speak, fetch and 
 carry, spell words, hunt the slipper, play tag and many other 
 things, I learned much myself teaching them. They need three 
 things to learn first, obedience, then attention, then confidence. 
 One must never betray a dog's confidence if he wishes to get at 
 the best there is in him. Cats and dogs both, have germinal 
 consciences. I have a law I call the law of the barn, and all 
 have to come to it. I say, "The strong must give up to the 
 weak". It makes for peace and as soon as the dumb 
 creatures learn it there is peace and love, and this is a 
 law that works with people as well. I see to it that the law is 
 enforced, and it's breaking attended with enforcement of just 
 punishment. 
 
 My dogs and cats all loved each other, and they all love the 
 horses and the horses learn to be kind to them. My old Sol
 
 122 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 used to provoke my big Maltese "Tom" by staying too long when 
 he went after the meat, and the cat would meet 
 him half way down the stairs and rap him on the 
 nose. Sol was big enough to annihilate Tom, but 
 he was under the law, and it was funny to see 
 Sol look at me and almost wink, as if he consid- 
 ered it a good joke. Tom often combed Sol's 
 head and ears with his rough tongue, but he 
 required that big dog to lie still as a mouse; if 
 SOL. he did not Tom rapped him on the ear with his 
 
 doubled up paw or clawed him. I always thought Sol was not 
 
 fond of having Tom comb him, though Tom seemed to consider 
 
 it a great favor to Sol. 
 
 My big, red cat Rufus and Uncle Bill, another big, red cat 
 both loved Billy Butler, who in turn was fond of them. They 
 would sit up on their hind legs before him and sing such big, 
 big songs, and softly paw his breast and look at Bill so lovingly. 
 Billy liked it, but he would look so foolishly at me as if he con- 
 sidered it a come down from the proper dignity of a dog. 
 
 To little Jim, my Father's dog, and to big Sol, I used to en- 
 trust the cat and kittens at night. The Cat in her basket with 
 her babies, was set between the two dogs, and no rascally Tom 
 cat could hurt them for the dogs kept watch and ward; and 
 stray cats they dearly loved to make "scoot" from our premises. 
 
 Little black Sampson loved me foundly, he melted to my 
 every word. He'd have followed me through fire. He'd have 
 cried if he could when I was sad, and sometimes he'd just give 
 a shriek, plunge at me, and make such queer noises I'd have to 
 feel better to relieve him; it seemed to hurt him when I was sad. 
 
 Men love dogs for dogs love them. Your dog looks up to 
 you; he never criticises, which is a hard thing to bear even 
 from the best of friends. You are all right, whatever you are, 
 to your dog. He is the subtlest of flatterers. I understand 
 why the poor man with his gang of dogs, loves them; he wants 
 friends, no one cares for him but his dogs; he wants affection, 
 his dogs give it to him; he needs a little praise, and no one but 
 the dog gives it to him. Everybody takes a slam at him, but 
 his dog. He is a better man for their friendship.
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 123 
 
 EUSSIE. 
 
 I marvel at the affection that shows the deeps of fidelity in 
 my dog friends. Why is the dog an epitome of faithful love? 
 I thank God for the affection and friendship of my dear dumb 
 friends. I do not know why the dogs love us unless the good 
 Lord knew men needed just that sort of a devoted friend. I 
 hate the word "cur" as applied to a dog. I would not compare 
 a man's mean deeds to a dog's acts; it is not fair to the dog. I 
 do not believe in mai dDgs. I knew a. man who lost 
 his whole hand, and another part of his, from the bite 
 of a man, and both almost lost their livas as a consequence but 
 we do not muzzle men. The milk of a woman suckling her 
 child after a .fit of anger, has been known to kill the child. I 
 despise the annual mad dog scare raised by ignorance. I hate 
 Vivisection that tortures our dear dog friends, and brutalizes 
 and degrades all who practice it, and that results in many a 
 legal murder. 
 
 If I am as true to God as my dog is to me, I shall fullfill 
 the divine law. When I see the loving, wishful look in my 
 dog's eyes, I wish I looked up to my Heavenly Father with 
 as deep desire, and that I was as obedient t) His will as my dog 
 is to mine. 
 
 The dog looks up to me; I am his God. Do I look like that 
 to my God, who gave me the dog to help me as a friend and 
 teacher?
 
 124 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 When my dogs pay their debt to nature, and the short term 
 we call their life closes, or disaster overtakes them, I lay them 
 away with decency. I recall their virtues and their love. I 
 thank them that they loved me and were good to me. I thank 
 God he sent me so much of His tender love in my dog to teach 
 me and uplift me to Him. My dog has no words but he speaks 
 a language I understand, in voice, in eye and in action, and he 
 speaks to me of God. 
 
 DOES YOUR LITTLE DOGGIE LAUGH? 
 
 Say Laddie, does your little doggie laugh? 
 
 Does he ope' his mouth and show his teeth and grin? 
 
 Does he wag his little tail, 
 
 Does he prance and say "All Hail" 
 
 To the boy he loves more than he loves himself? 
 
 Yes, he laughs and jokes and runs, 
 
 Till he makes you laugh and fun 
 
 And you both are gay as larks around your house. 
 
 Given to a boyfriend with a puppy.
 
 A LOVE STORY 125 
 
 BARBED WIRE FENCES. 
 
 The Barbed Wire fence begun with a coffee mill, and a 
 woman, made its millions for a wise man and it's here to stay 
 and we can't do without it, for it's cheap and efficient. If one 
 wants to roam over a farm or fields surrounded with barbed 
 wire, and doesn't want to go to a gate maybe a long way off, and 
 maybe there is no gate at all, when one wants through, it's a 
 job. The Country man in overhauls has a way of pulling a 
 fence down and going through if there are three wires; if there 
 are more them three wires he can climb a post, provided the 
 post is stout; but to a woman the task is not so easy for the 
 barbs catch her garments and often she can't get loose, or she 
 gets her clothes torn somewhat. I can climb a post if I am sure 
 it is stout, and if I get caught I tear myself loose regardless of 
 consequences; but I often lie flat as I can make myself on the 
 ground and "snake" through under the bottom wire. I have 
 sometimes got caught on my back, when the only thing to do is 
 to tear loose and leave part of your garments hanging to the 
 fence. To climb a post, or to "snake" under are both pretty 
 healthy exercises. The woman who preforms will not have 
 to wallow on the floor to develop her muscle, nor use exercises 
 for good of her muscular system. I am convinced that all 
 exercise should have some valuable object, so I do my work and 
 get my exercise at the same time, in getting through barbed 
 wire fences.
 
 126 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE COON AND THE CAT. 
 
 "The Coon he is above us, his nest is in the tree" 
 
 Old Song. 
 
 In the "Haunt of the Chilowe" there is a pet coon which 
 washed everything before he ate it, who unravelled an old 
 lady's knitting, and was in mischief of all sorts all the while; 
 that's a coon's way. 
 
 At my Band of Hope Pet Animal show and Industrial Art 
 exhibit, a pet coon now and then was brought. I remember 
 one dear little chap who would hold out his baby like paws and 
 beg to be taken up and carried about; he had such a coaxing 
 little appeal. He was often loosed from his chain and taken 
 little trips in arms. Another came in a cage and was set near 
 some chickens on the bench. I saw that coon reach out, and it 
 is curious how they can stretch their arms, and try to get a 
 chicken in a coop near by. He did not look the chicken's way; 
 he looked at the people with the most innocent face, but he 
 reached for the chicken. I moved the cages. That's the way 
 of a coon. 
 
 One of the young men on my farm found a young coon lying 
 in the road whimpering. It had evidently fallen from a nest 
 in a tree and the mother had not missed it. He brought it to 
 me. It was just able to crawl. I had a blue cat with two 
 kittens and I gave it to her to be cared for. Two nights it 
 cried so pitifully I concluded to hunt its Mother up. Its lamen- 
 tations were unbearable; we fed it milk. All of a sudden it 
 shut up, and the cat began to cry, and I found the coon was 
 feeding from the cat; but he was fixing a teat to his notion and it 
 hurt the cat and took her skin off. The cat would cry and growl, 
 but the coon would hug her in its long strong arms and work 
 away. After a while the cat's flesh healed and the coon was 
 all right, she ran and romped and rolled with her foster Mother 
 "Sitten Boo," and the two kittens, and was a droll little fellow. 
 "Goodie," as we called her, would grab "Sitten Boo" in her 
 strong arms, and she soon was the favorite child. She drank 
 milk like a pig, plunging into the pan, and then washed up nice 
 and clean afterwards.
 
 A LOVE STORY 127 
 
 But there came a day when "Sitten Boo" concluded the 
 kittens and the coon must earn their own living; the kittens 
 soon gave up, but Goodie couldn't believe it. She treated the 
 whole matter as a great joke; she romped, she begged, she 
 coaxed the Cat, but it was no go, the jig was up; she had to go, 
 and content herself with milk in a pan. She was a jolly little 
 coon, and she raced and ran and climbed trees,, swinging on the 
 limbs and walking upside down. She would lie in my lap and 
 play with my hands, and pretend to bite my ears. She played 
 all sorts of funny jokes on me. She followed me about the 
 farm like a dog. It was pretty to see her sit up and pick and 
 eat blackberries. She loved to romp with the cats; she grew 
 so large she touselled them thoroughly. 
 
 One day two of the dogs forgot themselves and took after 
 her, and they got under the house; both had hunted wild game 
 and they forgot she was not wild. I heard the uproar but the 
 dogs would not obey me, I thought Goodie was about to die. I 
 used a long pole to poke the dogs, but they were crazy. All at 
 once Goodie started to get out from under the house; I reached 
 and grabbed her; she threw her head sideways and scraped my 
 hand with her teeth thinking the dogs had her, but when she 
 saw it was me, she hugged me tight by neck and shoulders, 
 and I beat off the dogs who were determined to kill her. Poor 
 Goodie, she was stiff and sore for several days. The dogs got 
 two good whippings apiece, two awful lectures, and no supper, 
 and were tied to her cage all night to meditate on their sins. 
 Goodie got so we could not keep her in her coop any longer; 
 she killed young chickens, climbing the trees for them, she 
 killed setting hens and ate their eggs. She seemed wild and 
 would let no one touch her; her eyes flashed fire, and she threat- 
 ened all of us. I sent her as a gift to the Lincoln Park Zoo, 
 Chicago, and Cy de Vry sent me word saying she was a fine 
 animal. So endeth the story of the Coon and the Cat.
 
 128 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 TO KILL OR TO FEED. 
 
 I saw one day in a field a boy of twelve or fourteen years, 
 upon a harrow which he was using to prepare a field for seeding. 
 He had three horses hitched to this crusher and breaker of clods, 
 and he had them well in hand; the horses owned him as a Mas- 
 ter. His feet were well apart, and he was firmly planted tripod 
 wise upon the big steel harrow. I thought of those men of the 
 ancient days who drove their war chariots with fiery steeds, 
 and who stood tripod wise to secure a safe footing, and command 
 over their war chariots. I could but think that the Warrior and 
 his chariot drove to destroy and kill, while the young lad drove 
 his harrow and his team to nurture and save life. Which is the 
 best, which is the nobler and most heroic? By all odds, the lad 
 who drives the horses and drags the harrow is a greater man 
 than he who drove to destroy and kill. The only difference is 
 we invest the destroyer with more honor and dignity than the 
 life saver. Yet of the two, the country lad is the greater hero. 
 While I enjoyed to see his enjoyment, as he did the work and I 
 could see the satisfaction it gave him, I wished the day might 
 come, and soon, when we knew the real hero, and taught him to 
 glory in his splendid tasks on the farm. Everywhere the boys 
 from the farms sit in the high places of the earth. Let us not 
 forget that the farm is a great University where we handle and 
 develop the ideal. The city must have the farm and the farm- 
 er as a substratum, or it cannot thrive, for the farmer feeds the 
 people, he does not kill.
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 129 
 
 POTATOES, KARTOFFEL. 
 
 "JESSE" 
 
 My Champion Potato Gatherer 
 22 Months Old. 
 
 Whoever it was, (and the who has 
 been disputed) that brought the potato 
 from its native habitat in the Americas, 
 and scattered it all over the world to 
 feed it, deserves a monument. Now 
 that is ridiculous. No, it was no small 
 task to carry that first potato across the 
 earth, from sea to sea and plant it every- 
 where. It feeds men from the North to 
 the South, and East to West its vines 
 and rootlers run. The flower is not bad 
 looking and the vine is frond like, and 
 it smells no worse than the fern tribe. 
 It has within itself the power, by the 
 help of man, to develop into early and 
 late, and red, white and yellow hues; and 
 round, flat and long its contours come. 
 
 If soil and sun and rain and air and man are faithful to it, fifty, 
 one hundred, and five and six hundred bushels will pile up in 
 our acres, and fill our pockets with golden results. With little 
 care and not in the best of ground, I raised not less than one 
 hundred bushels per acre of flat, sweet and vigorous potatoes 
 on my land. If I had had more time to care for and enrich my 
 acres, I could have raised more. The potato is a gracious fruit 
 and will grow in a "lazy bed," covered with straw in early 
 March, and will yield the earliest crop. Planted in June it will 
 bring good returns if cared for. In my monument to him I'd 
 have the Discoverer hold aloft the potato; at his feet have 
 the women and children gathering these treasures of the earth; 
 with them the farmer with his team and plough and harrow 
 stirring them out; and I'd drape the whole with vines and blos- 
 soms of this earth fruit. 
 
 I have on my farm the Champion potato picker of the 
 world. When he was twenty-two months old he gathered a 
 peck of potatoes all himself. He was the baby, and went into 
 the "patch" with his mother and aunt and myself who were 
 gathering potatoes, while his father, my farmer, ploughed them
 
 130 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 out. He began to gather up and throw potatoes into our bask- 
 ets, and I said to his aunt, "Let us see if Jesse can't gather a 
 bucket of potatoes by himself". So we gave him the bucket 
 and said, "Jesse you get a bucket of potatoes", and although 
 the little fellow's talk was yet only a gabble he krew what was 
 said to him very well, and along the row he went and got the 
 potatoes in his little hands, and it was not long until he had a 
 bucket full. Twice he pitched a potato and both times it went 
 into the bucket. That was enough for the baby; he had won 
 the Championship; and after that he played in the dirt, threw 
 clods, sifted dirt through his small fingers and rode on the har- 
 row with his father holding him; he was dirty and happy. He 
 loved the outdoors from his father and mother and forbears, 
 and had their love of work, and their skill was in his small body, 
 Jesse, my champion, youngest potato picker in the world. 
 
 What we farmers need is to cultivate the ideal in our work. 
 At the end of the day we will not only remember our tired backs 
 and limbs, and the ploughing and the of times stubborn soil, and 
 the sweat and soil of the day, but we shall remember the sun 
 and the sky and the gracious earth that answers to our call. 
 We will love more the patient beasts who toil with us, the little 
 children who bless and enlarge us, and the good God with whom 
 we are co-workers. I would have the monument set to idealize 
 our crops, yes, idealize the homely potato, and let our young peo- 
 ple learn all that farm work means to the whole world; let them 
 learn the foundation of life is on the farm, even to commemorat- 
 ing the potato discoverer with a monument. . 
 
 - 
 i
 
 A LOVE STORY 131 
 
 THE TURKEY BIRD. 
 
 The Turkey is a pure American bird. Thomas Jefferson 
 wanted it used as a National emblem, but the turkey has no 
 heroic characteristics; we can not say of him as we can of the 
 eagle: 
 
 "High he soars the sunbeams facing, 
 
 Strong the eagle's wing and eye; 
 
 Scarce he deigns to turn his gazing 
 
 Downward from the lofty sky. 
 
 Bird of freedom upward tower, 
 
 Long thy soaring flight prolong, 
 
 Emblem of our Country's power 
 
 Be thou ever free and strong. ' ' 
 
 The turkey was a wild bird, but it has submitted to domes- 
 tication and is our National pride at Thanksgiving and Christ- 
 mas times. No other bird could take the turkey's place, and 
 there's money in the turkey bird, as the farmer's wife well 
 knows. The wild turkey we have crossed and recrossed and 
 bred till we have the splendid snow white Hollands, the lovely 
 tan Bourbons, the silver gray species and the magnificent 
 Bronze giants, gorgeous in gay plumage of black and gold tints 
 that shimmer and glitter in the sunshine, and that strut and 
 gobble and kwouk on our farms. I love to see the big Toms 
 strut and thrump and spread their tails and drag their wings 
 and shake every quill, till the bird seems an animated rattle box. 
 How grand they feel, as they turn their great wattles a bloody 
 red or a ghastly blue, as the whim takes them and dangle 
 their long snout like head pieces down their breasts and necks. 
 They seem to explode with delight at intervals. I raised a lot 
 of young Goblers once and I was fond of going among them to 
 shake my skirts and see and hear them all gobble at once; they 
 gobble with such vim and vigor I do not wonder this feature 
 of their performance was used by some odd genius in a Comic 
 Opera as the "Gobble, Gobble Gobble Chorus". 
 
 One wild habit the turkeys still retain, they hide their nests, 
 and thereby cause much work and weariness to the farm women 
 and children who must hunt turkey nests. The crows have got 
 the habit of hunting turkey nests too, and a nest full of empty
 
 132 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 shells often tells they have found one. It is an art to find a 
 turkey's nest. The hens begin to "kwouk", then we know 
 what they think, and they sneak off and will wind in and out 
 and around about, instead of going direct to their nests, the 
 women and children folio wing and hunting; and they sometimes 
 find the nest almost under their feet. I bell my turkeys, but like 
 some cows which wear bells, they learn to move so quietly the 
 bell does not give them away, as it is silent. 
 
 Turkeys take notions by spells and wander. I had a bunch 
 once that had to be hunted up and chased home every day; but 
 now I mother them with kind words and feed them, and we 
 never chase and "shoo" them, so they like to stay near home 
 and come in to roost with regularity. We had a big white duck 
 the year they wandered and he almost wore himself out wadd- 
 ling after them. He had been raised with them and we always 
 said he ' 'thought he was a turkey". Turkeys love the meadows, 
 and they thrive on insects; especially they love the grasshop- 
 pers. Since I have meadows they find plenty to keep them 
 busy and at home. The turkey is a lordly bird. When Tommy 
 Turk goes strutting and thrumping and rattling his quills, he is 
 an impressive object. The only grief that I feel is that they 
 are destined for the block at Thanksgiving and Christmas times.
 
 A LOVE STORY 133 
 
 THE WHEAT FIELDS. 
 
 The great problem of the world now a days is how to raise 
 enough bread stuff to feed the people. Wheat is the great sta- 
 ple; it is a gross feeder, and the fields where it is raised decline 
 in fertility. America with all her rich lands has begun to im- 
 port wheat. Everywhere the question is how to increase the 
 amount of bnshels of wheat per acre? Agricultural Colleges 
 the world over make study of it, and experiment fields make 
 hopeful exhibits, Wheat seed from every where in the world 
 is put to the test, and the yield of wheat begins to incjrease, 
 provided the conditions are observed, and we restore to the soil 
 what the wheat takes from it. The farmer can get instructions 
 from all lands on the wheat question now, the subject is trem- 
 dously interesting. 
 
 Everywhere we have a hope. China and Japan have solved 
 part of the question how to support a dense population on small 
 areas. When we save and use all fertilizing matter we shall 
 have done much for the land. Just now we lose and waste 
 much that would help it. The stench that goes up from burn- 
 ing trash piles every year provokes me and makes me sad. I 
 hate the stink, it is not wholesome, and it is a stench that demon- 
 strates that the land is robbed. My Father, when he made his 
 garden, spaded under every chip and leaf and rag and bone and 
 old shoe everything, and how his garden did grow and prosper; 
 he had enough to use and could give away. I saw two boys 
 one day beating a tomato can about the street and I said, in a 
 solemn voice "Boys did you ever see a tomato can turn into a 
 boy"? They stopped beating the can and I continued "You 
 take that can home and dig a nice hole in the ground and bury 
 it; then plant a tomato seed right by it and it will eat that can 
 up; then you eat the tomato when it's ripe, and you see the tin 
 can will become boy". They laughed. An old farmer friend I 
 told the story to, grinned after the surprise of the question, but 
 it's true. I am sure the story of Cinderella's coach made of a 
 pumpkin, her horses of rats, and her beautiful garments and 
 her fairy Godmother is true after all. Many a farmer boy and 
 girl lays the foundation of a fortune by raising pumpkins. I 
 heard of one boy who started a great fortune by catching rats
 
 134 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 on the farm. Pumkins and rats, and then a farm, and horses 
 and cattle and fields what not. The fairy Godmother is good 
 sense and hard work, and all things mean and small are trans- 
 muted by them into larger good. 
 
 If we use all the means at hand we shall get at Mother 
 Nature's secrets, and our fertilizers will all be used and our 
 wheat fields will yield, and we shall have bread and to spare. The 
 Hessian fly and chinch bug we shall conquer, as we have the weevil. 
 What beauty, what majesty in vests the wheat fields; the glamor 
 of the ages hangs about them. From the old tombs of Ahmen 
 Hotep, of Cheops, and from the story of the sower, from the 
 old alluvial valleys of the Indus, Tigris and Nile, from everywhere 
 in all ages, we read the story of the wheat, and the old sacred 
 writers keep it always before us as a fact and a symbol. Jesus 
 taught us the beautiful Parable of the Sower. Paul gave us the 
 wheat grain to teach us how little we know of anything. Hold- 
 ing the small grain in his hand he said ' 'Behold I show you a 
 mystery". We know not anything as we should and our wheat 
 field declining or increasing in fertility teach us that clearly. 
 
 I feast my eyes upon the wheat fields as tney grow and 
 green in Spring. I am in touch with their glory as they wave 
 in golden promise in the summer. I delight to see the binders 
 get them ready for the shockers. I joy in the great stacks of 
 ripened grain, I can look up to God, when out of the Mighty 
 Thrashers the ripened wheat grains pour into the sacks and are 
 carried to the garners, and give thanks. 
 
 If women would, they could go into the fields of rye and oats 
 and wheat, at Harvest time and make good wages. It is not 
 hard work, and it pays well, and hands are needed.
 
 A LOVE STORY 135 
 
 THE RYE FIELDS. 
 
 Rye is a hardy grain and if we treat it right will make our 
 fields more fertile. We plant it in the early fall, and chickens 
 and sheep and hogs and all the cattle can feed upon it in the 
 winter and early spring. When conditions suit we let it grow 
 till almost ready to head out, and then we plough it under and 
 it blesses the land with richness in humus. We plant another 
 crop, cow peas, or later wheat, upon it and it more than pays us 
 for the seed we sowed. Sometimes when our feed runs short 
 the rye may be cut just before the grain hardens, and it makes 
 fine feed for horses and they love it. We cut it in the ' 'dough" 
 as farmers say, and cure and feed it just like hay. 
 
 Poor land may be brought up by successive sowing of rye. 
 The bread we make from rye is liked by a great many persons 
 and is wholesome. For hogs and chickens and stock the rye 
 makes fine food. It may be broad casted in the corn fields in 
 August, and will make much spring and winter cropping for 
 stock; then we can plough it under to nourish the land in spring. 
 It is hardy and productive, and endures great cold. The rye 
 fields are lovely in the spring and their gray green color as they 
 near ripening is very beautiful to me. So I always plant some 
 rye upon my farm. I am not partial to ' 'pumpernickle, ' ' the black 
 bread made from rye. I like rye and wheat flour mixed, best 
 as bread.
 
 136 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE OATS FIELDS. 
 
 The oat fields are beautiful from the time their delicate 
 green breaks the brown crust of the earth till the rich green 
 fades to a greyish green and then turns to a golden yellow in 
 the sun. The graceful heads, heavy with their burden for man 
 and beast, droop like little bells all bunched together. When 
 the great thrashing machines are'through with them their straw 
 is fine for beds of man and beast, and ranks highest in the 
 market of all the straws; it is soft and yet tenacious. The 
 grains are choice for young stock and old, and wholesome for 
 the human race. The Scots, rich with tenacity of purpose and 
 vigor of thinking, from Carlyle, Burns and Scott, down to the 
 humblest cottager that herds his sheep "on the Grampian hills" 
 or tills the rugged soil, is strengthened, brawnedand sinewed by 
 oats "parritch", and all over the world we feed beasts and men 
 with oats.
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 THE SPRINGS. 
 
 137 
 
 THE BIG SPRING. 
 
 When I was a little girl I visited at my Grandmother's 
 among the Ohio Hills, and the Springs, of which there were a 
 number on the place, were a fascination to me. There was the 
 great spring near the milk house at the foot of the hill and near 
 the barn, and at this spring the girls, my Aunts, strained and 
 skimmed the milk and set it in long troughs where the cool water 
 that gushed 'from the hill ran through like Tennyson's brook, for- 
 ever and forever, and there the rich cream was made into the 
 best of country butter. 
 
 Above the house a spring came down through a rocky field 
 and emptied into a great trough in the door yard, and the cat- 
 tle drank on the field side, and everybody took his wash in the 
 clear water on the yard side, and from here the wash water 
 was carried to the wash house; all cooking and drinking water 
 was brought from the Springhouse under the hill. 
 
 A few hundred feet of tile or gas pipe would have brought 
 the upper spring into the old red brick farm house and supplied 
 ample water for everything and left plenty for the cattle, but 
 the old gentlemen, who was the boss and no kin of mine, did
 
 138 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 not see it that way, and the women drudged out what a few 
 dollars would have saved them, and they earned enough to do 
 it, but it was not their wage under the law, so they were help- 
 less. I loved to scrub out the big trough ; I loved to clean out 
 the spring and tlje channel that led to it; I loved to scratch and 
 
 clean out a hole at the root of an old tree near the Springhouse, 
 and see the water run gurgling into it. I once got a big bull 
 frog in my hand and I had to screech, from the sudden shock 
 of something alive and unexpected in my hand. 
 
 WILD CAT HOLLOW.
 
 A LOVE STORY 139 
 
 Ah, the springs, how much they stand for in my life. Now 
 on my farm I can count eleven good springs, all with large ba- 
 sins, if I will, and a free, never failing flow of water, and plenty 
 of other places I find where a little digging would open a way 
 for a water vein to get out. The big spring nearest the house 
 runs barrels of water every day, and there we have a large 
 trough where the cattle and teams can drink if they choose. 
 Springs do not freeze much even in the coldest weather; their 
 sources the cold cannot reach and water comes to surface without 
 freezing on the coldest days. I have two other springs that run' 
 nearly as strongly, and there are others that do not run so free; 
 one reason because they are not opened well enough, but pools 
 of water that never dry out, show us where and what they are, 
 and my cattle need never go thirsty. Mosses and ferns grow 
 thick about them and the grass is lush and sweet along their 
 rims and the cattle love it. 
 
 CLIFF SPRINGS. 
 
 If I had the time I'd like to paddle in my springs now, 
 as I did in those careless days of childhood. I see that they 
 are kept open when needful, and that they flow freely. 
 
 The Springs, how much they mean! I never see them but
 
 140 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 to admire and to marvel at the goodness that underlies them, 
 and at the blessing that they bring. I once drank from a 
 Great Spring of sweet water in the Panhandle Texas. It was, 
 I think at a place called Reynolds City or Hide town, but there 
 was not a woman, man, child or building of any kind there; but 
 the Spring was there; and the water was not the horrid Gyp 
 water of that region, it was sweet and clear and cold, and we 
 had been all day without water except some dregs in a cask, 
 but here we drank, and here we filled up our cask afresh. So 
 this Spring and my Springs and the Springs on my Grand- 
 mother's farm, and all springs, are all a source up pleasure to 
 me.
 
 A LOVE STORY 141 
 
 BLACK CATTLE. 
 
 I had a hundred head of cattle, Polled Angus, or Doddies, 
 when I came to my farm. These are the hornless beefers of 
 the lists. They are usually solid black, though now and then 
 a tawny calf appears that has the color and style of ancestors 
 used in the productions of the type. The polled Angus are vig- 
 orous and take on flesh easily and come on fast. They are very 
 hardy and are good to each other. The cows are good mothers, 
 but poor milkers as a rule. They stand by each other and at 
 calving the herd will help a mother and a calf so that it is rare 
 for one to be lost even in the coldest weather. The herd make 
 common cause against intruders. In going through my pas- 
 tures I drove. To meet a hundred head of black creatures with 
 heads and eyes all set on me was just a little more than I could 
 stand, and when "Laddie," the lord of the herd, in serene 
 majesty and conscious of his strength, gazed camly and steadily 
 at me, I felt like telling him "I'd be good". When the whim 
 seized them they'd turn tail and gallop off like buffalo and out 
 of sight among the hills and hollows. I found them hard to 
 handle; the old Highland blood runs riotous at times and if they 
 set their heads at it, they do things. I sold a lot of yearlings 
 and four men started to drive them. They got along well 
 enough until they saw a railroad train. Wild with terror, their 
 old native blood awoke and trusting to themselves, not men, 
 they broke and ran, Everywhere. One uncoupled its back 
 jumping a ditch; two were lost, but later were rounded up; 
 after a "time of it" they reached their destination. 
 
 Later I sold a lot of calves to the same party and he brought 
 wagons with great racks and trussed the calves like fowls and 
 hauled them off. It was the most merciful and best way for
 
 142 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 them to go. With all the virtues of the Doddies, I prefer other 
 cattle. I dispersed my herd. I concluded it was not well for 
 me to keep so many cattle. They eat one up. The feeding of 
 cattle, like many other branches of farm business is a problem, 
 and I am not up to it on the large, so to study and decide, the 
 herd of Black Cattle was dispersed.
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 THE WHITE FACE CATTLE. 
 
 143 
 
 I bought me a herd of Herford cattle. There were six 
 cows, all pedigreed, when I began and now I have some more. 
 They are gentle, and I like them better than any other cattle. 
 They will look well when other cattle do not thrive so well so I pre- 
 fer them. I admire their color, red and white, with great white 
 faces. They are hardy and handsome and gentle, so I intend 
 to keep them on my farm. My neighbors tell me that to cross 
 them with the Short Horns makes big cows and fine milkers, 
 and I observe that this is so. I do not know how rich their 
 milk is as I have not investigated that, but I know they give 
 large quantities of milk and are very large. I have some cattle 
 that are of mixed blood but the bulk of are Herfords. They 
 are good mothers and good breeders and rank high in the 
 markets, the best of all perhaps.
 
 144 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE SHEEP. 
 
 ' 'The sheep, I have observed, in the long run of the years have 
 been the farmers most profitable asset". John Sligar. 
 
 I keep sheep; they are my lawn mowers; where we used to 
 have weeds on my farm we now have a short green turf, and 
 where the sheep run, the grass and soil improves steadily; they 
 are natural spreaders of enrichment. The fence lines and 
 corners, soon come to good sod, devoid of weeds when the sheep 
 have access to them. They trim hazel brush and briars, and 
 young growth of all sorts till much of it dies, and the remainder 
 of it is easy to cut by the farmer. Places so dense that one can 
 hardly get through, the sheep soon shear till they are easy of 
 access and to the brush scythes. A successful farmer told me 
 he always kept sheep to bring up his land. One has to care for 
 sheep, as well as hogs, but it pays. I keep the Shropshires, they 
 are hardy and an all round good sheep. I love to see the lambs 
 come, b^t I hate to sell the young ones when they are ready for 
 market. The only thing about the sheep that worries me 
 is its mournful cry; they seem so troubled often about things. 
 Sometimes they jump the fences, but in the main they are tract- 
 able enough. 
 
 Holy Writ has so many lovely things about the sheep and 
 the lambs. The lambs are always seen in Holy pictures, and 
 Jesus who was slain for others is called the good Shepard all we are 
 sheep. David, the Psalmist tended sheep and grew in wisdom 
 and knowlege and power. We call our children lambs, after 
 the young of the sheep, and Jesus, their tender shepard. My 
 sheep are dear to me for many reasons, and I would not be 
 without them. They are adorn afarml think; besides being of 
 use in so many ways, and of value too.
 
 A LOVE STORY 145 
 
 THE MAKING OF A FIELD. 
 
 Here is a piece of ground I desire to make a field of. Many 
 trees grow upon it; oaks of various kinds and hickory and maple 
 and others. The earth is littered with logs and limbs and trash 
 and much brush grows there also. All of this must be disposed 
 of if I make a field. The men go upon the ground with cross 
 cut saws, and axes ringing, and boom down comes a great tree 
 to the earth. You marvel at the skill with which the workmen 
 fell the tree and at their ability to make it fall just where they 
 want it. It is an art that has been taught us yearly by men 
 who are experts at it, but the old time woodman with his skill 
 will soon be no more, as our forests disappear. The axes take 
 off the tree branches, the saws cut the trunk into post lengths, 
 the axes split the logs into posts and they are stacked; The 
 best of the limbs will be hauled in for wood, the small branches 
 piled on the stumps for burning. You now lay out the fence 
 line, the men follow with the post hole diggers, the posts are 
 dumped in and tamped, the wire is strung and stretched. Then 
 comes the burning of the logs and stumps and trash, the cut- 
 ting of brush and the field is made ready for the plough, I saw 
 to the making of six large new fields, and where the cattle 
 grazed, the earth was broken by the plough shares for the 
 first time since the world began and corn and oats and wheat 
 and clover and other tame things grow, where once the grasses 
 and the trees and brush and cattle had possession. One rejoices 
 in something done and in a new field accomplished. 
 
 Sometimes I make a field in haste and clear and clean the 
 earth and plough but let the trees stand. In June when the 
 sign is in the heart we deaden them and they die at once, and 
 we raise good corn in such a field. The time of deadening is 
 most important. They die at once when deadened in the sign, 
 but linger if not cut then, sometimes leafing out a second year. 
 So we are obedient to the laws of life, and deaden when the sign 
 is right. We can cut them down when the crops are out of the 
 field, and so we make a field.
 
 146 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 I AM ARRESTED AND FINED $20 AND COSTS. 
 
 Once, with three other women, 
 I tore down a picture of a half nude 
 woman advertising a bad show in 
 Effingham. 
 
 The show was admitted to be a 
 bad one and the papers all about us 
 in adjoining counties had scorned it. 
 It was a female minstrel show. 
 
 The picture was hung in front 
 of the post office door. The post- 
 master was asked to remove it, but 
 he was a political slave, and of the 
 same color as the opera house people 
 in politics, so he refused to do any- 
 thing. There were others, but we 
 made the attack on the one in front 
 of the post office door. 
 
 A Baptist Aid Society was quilt- 
 ing a bed cover for the good of the 
 church at a friends house, and 
 we went there to start and have 
 
 a prayer, for we were going to break the law and we needed to 
 call on the highest power we knew for aid. We women had no 
 ballots and no political influence and no power to keep our town 
 clean from corrupting influences, so we took the law in our own 
 hands as we had a right to do, and as people have always done 
 when law is inoperative. We went forth firm in the faith 
 that the Lord whose children we cared for, would care for and 
 protect us. 
 
 We tore the picture down; we wadded it up and threw it in 
 the street, and we all laid hands upon it, we all wanted to help 
 tear it down, and then we went home. It was not long after 
 that I heard a man's feet pounding on my sidewalk, and I said, 
 "It's you the're after", and the City Marshal, a red headed man 
 with a fierce air, came stamping into my house and notified me I 
 was arrested, and must appear before the Police Justice at 7 p. m. 
 that day. The story flew like wildfire over the town and a 
 
 My Attorney 
 
 HENRY B. KEPLEY
 
 A LOVE STORY 147 
 
 crowd gathered. A demand was made for time to prepare for 
 trial; the Justice refused. A change of Venue was taken, and 
 I think the following evening at 7 p. m. was set for the trial. 
 I was to be made an example of, it soon appeared. The Pro- 
 secution got the loudest mouthed brawler they could find to as- 
 sist the prosecutor. Mr. Kepley defended me, and when the 
 trial came off the Court House to which the adjournment was 
 taken, was packed with friends and foes. 
 
 Uproarous applause from first one side and then the other 
 broke out at various points in the trial. Mr. Kepley gave the 
 "enemy" such a dose as was good for their souls. I kept still. 
 The J. P. was not friendly he really posed as a friend of the 
 liquor element and they were all at the trial, for they elected 
 him with great regularity. He had a fine chance to please them, 
 and he did. Nothing could have saved me in his court as we 
 all well knew. At the close he administered what he considered 
 a scathing rebuke to me, and fined me $20. and costs because my 
 offence was such an awful one, and because it was "me", he said. 
 This was over six times as much as the vilest man would have 
 been fined for any offence against the City ordinances. Cheers 
 hisses and cat calls greeted his verdict. 
 
 Mr. Kepley took an appeal for me to the Circuit Court. 
 What the J. P. read about himself and his verdict in the pa- 
 pers in our section of the earth after that trial, made him mad, 
 and he would not speak to me for a long while. 
 
 When Circuit Court set and my case came on Judge W. B. 
 Wright of the Effingham bar volunteered in my defense, and 
 Mr. Kepley looked after my interests. I felt moved to speak 
 in my own defense also. I laid down the fundamental doc- 
 trines of purity. I had ranged six months over a large field of 
 study in the preparation for that short address I made. The 
 Prosecutor, after I spoke, told the Judge he had nothing to say, 
 and I thanked God. He had said such dreadful things before, 
 I was hardly able to bear it, and I dreaded what he might say 
 again. I shed many tears and cried unto God often for sustain- 
 ing grace, but I held out, my husband and friends backing me. 
 I dreaded the sustaining of the verdict of the lower court, for 
 that would have operated against the purity work that needed 
 doing. Judge Wm. C. Jones of the Circuit Bench reversed the
 
 148 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 verdict of the Justice of the Peace and said that under the 
 circumstances he would have done the same thing himself. So 
 this great "pow wow" of the J. P's Court, with its $20. fine and 
 costs ended, and our purity work was better known, and was 
 strengthened.
 
 A LOVE STORY 149 
 
 SONG -WE'VE SIGNT DOT PLEDGE. 
 
 TUNE JOLLY JONATHAN. 
 
 Ach, yes, mine vriend ve lofe it, 
 
 Ve lofe dot lager bier, 
 
 Ve lofe it hier, ve lofe it dere, 
 
 Ve lofe it every vere. i 
 
 Es macht uns feel sehr gut, 
 
 Es tuht dose feelinks joy, 
 
 But lasst uns dells you vile you're hier, 
 
 Ve're going to go it by. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Ve gifs it up, Ve gifs it up, 
 Oh yah, ve goes it by, 
 Ve've signt dot pledge, 
 Ve've signt dot pledge, 
 Und now ve dells you vy. 
 
 Ven ve vas Jung und harty, 
 
 Ve drunk dot ein glass bier, 
 
 Ve felt so fine, ve felt so Jung, 
 
 Ve nefer hat ein fear, 
 
 Ve had our fraus und kinder, 
 
 Ve lofed dem awful dear, 
 
 Ve also lofed, ve immer drunk, 
 
 Dot ein glass lager bier. (Chorus.) 
 
 But ein glass bald vas zwei glass, 
 
 Und zwei glass bald vas drei, 
 
 Und vierten, funften, sexten, seibenten, 
 
 Quivkly put ve by. 
 
 Und achtzehn, neunzehn, zwanzig, 
 
 Ach! it vas immer mehr, 
 
 Ve could not stop, 
 
 Ve always drunk, 
 
 Noch immer mehr and mehr. (Chorus.) 
 
 Ve staid dot saloon in, 
 
 Ve stopped dot vorkshop oudt, 
 
 Dose shiltern gried, 
 
 Dose wifes dey sait,
 
 150 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 Dere lifes vas quite vore oudt. 
 
 For ye vould come home dipsey, 
 
 Our moneys all vas oudt, 
 
 Dose frau's must take some vashings in, 
 
 To help dose families oudt. (Chorus.) 
 
 Our bodies shvelled dot big, 
 Our closes soon bust oudt, 
 Dot saloon man he sait it was 
 Because ve ade sauer kraut, 
 Our noses dey grew ret, 
 Our eyes dey did stick oudt, 
 Und vas so ret as flannel rags, 
 Dot vas not sauer kraut. (Chorus.) 
 
 Our bokets dey vas embdy, 
 
 Our toes dose shoes stuck oudt, 
 
 Dot saloon man begun to say: 
 
 "Old Drunkard git you oudt." 
 
 Ve drunk his bier und visky, 
 
 Till our moneys all was oudt, 
 
 He would not GIF us any more, 
 
 BECAUSE, our cash vas oudt. (Chorus.) 
 
 Dose beeples pass uns bei, 
 
 Dere eyes look sideways oudt, 
 
 To see our rags to see our shame, 
 
 Vir kan nicht stand it oudt; 
 
 De schiltern run and gry, 
 
 Dey go dot sidewalk oudt, 
 
 Vhene'er dey see us comin by 
 
 Is hushed dere happy shoudt. (Chorus.) 
 
 Nun, frau, und kind und closes, 
 
 Ind embdy bockets oud, 
 
 Und nose und eyes, und shoeses bust, 
 
 It makes us dink quite sount, 
 
 Ve say "good by old visky", 
 
 Ve say to lager bier, 
 
 "Goot by, goot by, old body rot" 
 
 Ve drinks you niemals mehr.
 
 A LOVE STORY 151 
 
 * 
 
 CHORUS 
 
 Old visky hot, old body rot, 
 Oh yah, ve goes it bei, 
 We've signed dot pledge, 
 We've signt dot pledge, 
 Und now we've doldt you vy. 
 
 This song was sung by some big German boys dressed as 
 the song describes, at a childrens' meeting we held in The 
 Temple. -^ -
 
 152 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 SO! 
 
 Wm. Dean Howells does not shun publicity, and he gets his 
 share of it. He says he used to formerly greatly enjoy favor- 
 able press notices of his books, and owns to having carried 
 them about like love letters. Mr. Howells talks of his work, 
 and he sees nothing immodest in it. Some do not understand 
 why so many modern writers so obviously affect to ignore their 
 own work and refrain from speaking about it. Nearly all 
 writers are proud of their literary performances and of whatever 
 distinction they may have gained. Exchange.
 
 A LOVE STORY 153 
 
 RAG CARPETS AND RUGS. 
 
 One of the largest industries among women and which gets 
 but little notice is Rag Carpet making. I sometimes smile when 
 I read the denunciations of women as wasters and extravagan- 
 cers. It seems to me that men who are the main calamity 
 howlers would do well to mend their own ways. Their tobacco 
 and liquor bills would pay the extravagances of women over and 
 over again. While it is true some women are extravagant, the 
 most of women are not so. They work without wages for their 
 board and clothes the larger part of them, and their husbands, 
 sons, brothers, fathers, etc, handle and keep and spend their 
 wages, without even saying "by your leave". 
 
 Every were the hum of sewing machines in the homes testity 
 to the constructive labor of women. The wash tub, and wash 
 board and boiler, the three times three each day at stove and 
 dish pan, and the seven times fifty-two of the year demonstrates 
 her industry and her saving, and conservation of men and things. 
 She goes down the way of death that men may be, and does not 
 even demand a nurse. When things are worn out and played 
 out, she gathers up the rags, and wonderful quilts and comfort- 
 ers appear, and the rag rug and rag carpet, made of rags torn 
 and cut and sewed goes to the weaver, and returns, by the million 
 yards each year. The rag carpet is a staple and stable. From 
 the weaver the rags come back in beautiful and useful and com- 
 fortable coverings for the bare floors, of the farm house and the 
 town houses too, and the skill and genius of the woman appears 
 in the fine woof and warp in them, and the contrast of gay or som- 
 ber colors in carpets and rugs. When the United States Census 
 is taken so stupid are we, that never yet has this tremendous in- 
 dustry secured the least notice in its pages, and yet the carpets 
 and rugs are on all of our farms, and many of us depend on 
 them in town. 
 
 So little is made of the industries women engage in. The rag 
 carpet makers of America, could have in the past and now 
 belted the Globe time and again with the rags they tear and weave 
 into beautiful and useful carpets. I have in my time made al- 
 most one thousand yards of rag carpet, and rag rugs, and still 
 make some. The farmer women everywhere vie with each other
 
 154 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 to produce fine carpets, and the warp from the factories for 
 these woven treasures of the farm amounts to a goodly sum, as 
 does the cash which goes for dyes and weaving, in the pro- 
 ductions, of rag carpets and rugs.
 
 A LOVE STORY 155 
 
 WITH A CHRISTMAS OFFERING. 
 
 A SONNET. 
 
 Far, far away I hear sweet voices sing, 
 
 Neath summer skies that smile o'er fields of snow, 
 
 That melt not in the sunlight's ardent glow; 
 
 The breezes blow, and merry voices ring, 
 
 It is the flowers' time of blossoming; 
 
 But see, the snow is melting, and 'twill flow, 
 
 Strange sight in bag and basket stately slow, 
 
 To gin, to press, to rattling mill, and Ho! 
 
 We have King Cotton in the Nation's marts. 
 
 Good house-wives when the Northern blasts so fierce 
 
 Bluster through crack and cranny, howl at arts . 
 
 To keep them out good house-wives, pile and pierce 
 
 Good cotton's downy fleeces till apart, 
 
 They cannot come; and underneath their folds 
 
 We lie and sleep, warm, cosy, comfortable.
 
 156 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE THRASHERS. 
 
 Now you strike an exciting theme. When will the thrash- 
 ers be here? One can never tell how long it will be, and just 
 when, for there is no absolute rule that one can use to tell just 
 how long it will take to thrash out a certain job, and who can 
 tell when the great engine, that is a willing servant of man, 
 may break down somewhere and have to be repaired, and who 
 can tell what crossing or bridge may cave in and leave the en- 
 gine in the ditch, one end up and the other end down, to wal- 
 low fike a trapped buffalo, till it can be heaved up and pried 
 out? Then, there are the jobs that come in the neighborhoods 
 unexpected, and the thrashers work neighborhoods as a rule in 
 rotation. So, when will the thrashers be here, is not a certain 
 thing, and the farm women, who like to have cakes and pies 
 and all sorts of good things to eat, must hustle when the 
 crowd and the thrashing machine comes or they hear it's on 
 its way; the telephone helps now a days. 
 
 Like the haymaking, the thrashing is a festival, for the 
 neighbors come together to help each other, and they go from 
 house to house in the neighborhoods. There are men on the 
 stacks to feed the engine's hungry maw, there are men with 
 boys and wagons to haul the thrashed grain to the graineries, 
 there are men on the exit of the straw as it pours out in a 
 stream from the spout, to be stacked for bailing, or to 
 feed the cattle in the winter time. It is the worst place in the 
 thrashing for the dust that flies gives some men dust chills, and 
 it is a dreadfully dirty place. Most men shun it. Hereafter, 
 when I thrash I shall give the men masks for noses and throats, 
 like stone cutters wear. There are men with the tank who 
 haul water, for that is usually necessary on the farms and the 
 big horses have to pull. The man on the engine, and the tank 
 man feed the fires under the boiler and guide the big machine, 
 and it puffs and blows and smokes and rattles as wheat and 
 oats and clover and timothy run through it with their rich re- 
 turns in seed. The men are merry and busy, and everybody 
 seems to be at the place he fits in best, for the skill of each is 
 known. The whistle blows; it's dinner time, and the women 
 make their offerings to the hungry, thirsty men, and hear
 
 A LOVE STORY 157 
 
 praise of their tables that is pleasing. The women try them- 
 selves to set good tables for, as the thrashers go from house to 
 house, no women wants to fall behind any other. And how 
 they eat, and enjoy the food, and crack jokes, and tell the last 
 piece of news, and all in friendliness. Real manners are not 
 wanting, for your farmer is a gentleman in every sense, and 
 the women are true ladies. There often come rest spells when 
 something goes wrong with the engine, which is not always 
 new, and at last the day ends; everybody has had a good time; 
 you pay your bills count your grain, and the thrasher man pulls 
 out to a new place, and your rejoice in that task ended.
 
 158 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 DO HOGS THINK? WELL I'D SAY, YES. 
 "Pi-goo, Pi-goo." The farm call for Pigs. 
 
 When my farm came to me I found about thirty head of 
 hogs upon it, mostly the Red Duroc Jersey breed. "Old Mason" 
 the head of the herd, was pedigreed, and some of the sows like- 
 wise. The Duroc Jerseys are a hardy and prolific stock' and 
 are generally in favor. One can raise pigs when they are 
 handled. I had good luck with hogs and could have always 
 raised more than I could manage. I read seed catalogues, agri- 
 cultural papers and essays, and I ploughed my hog lots which 
 had never been stirred, and put in hog lot mixtures good and 
 thick: and rape, that is fine feed, I sowed it the lots were rich 
 for the hogs had long run on them, and when the ploughs broke 
 the stiff earth, things grew. I did not want to feed my pigs 
 on corn when the weather became hot for I noticed cholera, that 
 scourge if the hog lots, was apt to break out afterwards. I liked 
 to keep my growing pigs on rape and clover and grass and on 
 green growing mixtures, and they grew and got ready for fat- 
 tening when the days grew cold. We burned stumps and logs 
 and they got charcoal and ashes; the charcoal they crunched 
 like candy; the ashes they'd lick up to the coals as the fires 
 burned. Rock salt was always at hand, and to see pigs quarrel- 
 ling at the box, when too many wanted to lick that lump of de- 
 light at one time, was funny. Spring water and pond water 
 they had, and we had no diseases. The hog, whose name is a 
 synonym for filth, is a cleanly beast if it only has a chance. 
 They love the mud bath, as it keeps them clean of vermin, and 
 as hogs suffer from the heat, and only sweat in a small place 
 on their legs it is said, they need the mud bath and water. It 
 always seemed to me that the Duroc must be near of kin to the 
 wild pigs, they are rustlers for a fact, can take care of them- 
 selves and are wise, and can think. I came into my farm one fall 
 evening late, just before the dark came on, and I saw two big 
 red sows marching up through my young orchard, heading to- 
 wards a field of corn in the shock. They were calling all the 
 pigs on the place to come along with them. This is what they 
 said, or what I understood them to say, ' 'High, high, you pigs 
 young and old all of you come along with us, we know where
 
 A LOVE STORY 159 
 
 there is a lot of nice corn just ready to eat in a field up here; 
 we are going to tear down the fence and get in and you can all 
 go too hurry, hurry, hurry up"; and running, trotting, squeal- 
 ing and grunting, the whole herd raced and romped and frolicked 
 at the call of the two sows, and as the old girls marched, deter- 
 mination emanated from them. I hurried my team down the 
 lane and said "run quick, the big sows are taking all the pigs 
 up into the corn field and they intend to break down the fence and 
 get in". Away went the men, and sure enough, the sows with 
 their strong jaws tore boards enough off the fence to let the 
 whole gang into the corn, but alas, the men drove them out and 
 back, the way they went in, and they were coralled for the 
 night. I had two rape patches adjacent. I'd give the hogs one 
 and let them to the other when the first was eaten down, but 
 those hogs in spite of me, would take things in hand and they'd 
 root and butt and tear till they got into the new patch. They 
 regulated me at times and I did not like the scheme. I ran upon 
 a young sow in the bottom one raw day in November. I was 
 gathering walnuts and the dogs were seen by the sow, and she 
 charged them. She had made an immense big nest of grass in 
 the open with no shelter and there she had five fat little pigs 
 about whom she was much concerned. I called the noisy dogs 
 away, and she went to her babies; a raw south wind was blow- 
 ing and it was spitting snow and was very disagreeable; the 
 pigs in the nest squalled and complained and fussed, and their 
 Mother worried. Finally she turned her back to the south, 
 sunk deep in her nest and made a shelter for the little ones, 
 and they were contented. Oh, she thought and, Duroc Jersey- 
 like, she skirmished out of her troubles without difficulty. We 
 took her to a pen later on. She thought it all out, I could see 
 her mind working, as her young ones squalled their troubles to 
 her. 
 
 I sold these pigs finally, some of them always had a scheme 
 on hand, and about the time everybody was the busiest the cry 
 would come "the pigs are out" and we all had to drop 
 things and run and fix up torn down places, and hustle pigs back 
 to their lots. 
 
 Leigh Hunt tells the story of an Irishman who was driving 
 a pig. He said to the man, "Where are you taking that pig"?
 
 160 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 In a loud voice the pig driver said "To Cork", but he leaned 
 over and in a mysterious whisper told his questioner he was 
 going in exactly the opposite direction, but he said ' 'If the pig 
 finds it out, I'll never get him there". 
 
 An old man once came to me to buy hogs. He offered me 
 5 1-2 cents, and I asked him 6 cents a pound. He declared he 
 would not give it, but he asked to see the pigs. It was a nice 
 gang just ready to fatten, and I did not care if I sold them at 
 all, so I said "I can't leave here for I am driving for this man 
 who is fixing the road and if I go, two of us will be off time. 
 You go down to the hog lot and call the pigs; they will not come 
 for me, they are wonted to the men". He came back presently 
 as mad as could be. He said, ' 1 called those pigs and as soon 
 as they saw me they all ran off", and away he went in wrath. 
 I sat down and laughed and laughed. He was such a fat old 
 man and he looked so very much like a brother to the animals 
 he wanted to buy, and I think the pigs knew all about him as 
 soon as they saw him, and so they ran off; one look was enough 
 for them. Oh yes, pigs think a whole lot. 
 
 -
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 HAYMAKING. 
 
 161 
 
 SOME OF MY HAYMAKERS. 
 
 "Maude Muller on a summer day. 
 Raked the meadows sweet with hay". 
 
 Whittle r. 
 
 When I came upon my farm I found no meadows. Hay had 
 been raised on outlying places. The farm had been used for 
 grazing mainly. I wanted meadows and, as I no longer in- 
 tended to raise so many cattle, I put some broken land into 
 grass and clover, and some fields, and I soon had hay ready for 
 making. 
 
 The mower goes round and round behind the patient horses, 
 and the grass and clover falls in smooth swaths. The hay rake 
 follows and draws the dry grass in long, large windrows. Then 
 come the cockers or the wagons, if you have no stacker, and 
 the hay is hauled to the stack site which has been prepared with 
 rails or poles as a bottom, and the stack men take it. The men 
 who make the stacks possess an art and usually get a little bet- 
 ter pay. Haying always pays better wages than the regular 
 farm work. Haying time is a festival time too, on the farms. 
 The men get together and all sorts of subjects are discussed at
 
 162 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 WITH JO AND JOKER AFTER THE DAY'S WORK IS DONE. 
 
 the noon hour, in the intervals of the work, and in riding to and 
 fro to the fields. Many a politician's fate is settled in the hay 
 fields. Sometimes a stack upsets and the momentary shock and 
 the joking that results, is good for everybody. The hay for the 
 barns is to be hauled in and packed away; we pray for good dry 
 weather at the haying time, and plenty of it. It wastes time, 
 money and patience to make hay between showers. The small 
 boy has fun and money if we want his services to haul in hay 
 cocks; the job is just his size. 
 
 I ride the rake, that springless" vehicle except for the trip 
 spring, and I enjoy the task, though it is quite hard. I rake 
 all the hay and then I know my hay fields by heart. My little 
 horses Dan and Don are gentle and obey my every word. If I 
 get too tired I get off the rake and let the horses eat at some 
 big windrow, and I lie down on it; the dogs gather round me, 
 the horses munch the hay, and I gaze into the sky, and soon 
 become refreshed and rested, as are the horses, and I'm off 
 again. My land is not all level and to rake hay on a steep hill- 
 side has its excitements. I fear sometimes I shall upset, though 
 I know it is not easy with a twelve foot rake. I sit on a slick 
 seat with my feet braced upon the axle, and I drive and hang 
 on as best I can with the rake at an angle of forty-five or more 
 degrees it seems to me. When the weight of the rake with me 
 on it sends the team quickly down a hill I think I am "a goner"; 
 and when I rise on the axle and from the seat to lighten a
 
 A LOVE STORY 163 
 
 POSING AT A HAY STACK. 
 
 bounce, I think I am in danger; and sometimes too I snag me on 
 a stump and can't get off. Then I mortify myself and call for 
 help to get loose. From a high place in the field I can see the 
 hill tops and hill sides all about tan and green with grass and 
 oats and wheat and clover. The river and creek wind in and 
 out like silver threads, all a shimmer in the mid day sun. The 
 corn grows rank and dank and green, and glistens in the bottoms, 
 so rapid is its progress from day to day. The birds are rioting 
 "with joy on the trees and fences, and along the field and after 
 insects. The bees are humming through the air; the Bumble 
 bees are droning in the fields, and when we strike their burrows 
 in the ground they make lively times for men and horses. I 
 hurry by and keep quite still, my horses will not run. "Over 
 head the sky, oh, how blue it is, and how beautiful witli soft 
 white clouds of every kind. The sweet winds blow, laden with 
 perfume of the hay, and fields about. The dogs stand still and 
 ilift their muzzles and snuff the air; their eyes look full of 
 dreams, and so are mine, and then they chase rabbits. .This 
 great landscape of the Lord, is more beautiful than Turner, or 
 Millais, or Tadema can limn. This is the real thing and it de- 
 lights me through and through. Later on it will change to Au- 
 tumn's gorgeous hues, and stacks of hay and shocks of fodder 
 and frozen streams will make my Autumn and Winter picture gal- 
 lery complete. I would not give a snap, for painted beauties of 
 these scenes that no one can portray, and the joy and spirit of 
 it all one must feel and use and garner in his inmost self. We 
 farmers have the greatest galleries of pictures in the world. 
 They are real, from the cattle like those that Rosa Bonheur
 
 '164 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 loved to paint, to Turner's marvels in color. Let me get near 
 to Nature's heart for some day I must nestle in her breast, she 
 is my Mother, my Father, my Sister, my Brother and all my kin. 
 The haying time is good for health. Good pure air is 
 breathed deep down, and exhaled with every shock of glottis and 
 diaphram. I always come out of my haying better than I went 
 in, in body, mind and spirit. The jolting of the rake is better 
 than a vibrating chair in a sanitorium; all the nostrums in the 
 world cannot compare with good exercise, and the company of 
 good wholesome people, and breathing the best of air. We haul 
 and cram part of the hay and clover in the barn;, we stack much 
 and it goes to the baler by and by, and then we haul and ship 
 and sell the residue we do not need, and we who labored have 
 stored up life and vigor and delight for ourselves, as well as 
 feed for the stock, in Haying time.
 
 A LOVE STORY 165 
 
 LINES. 
 
 The summer melted into riper fall, 
 
 The vines their fragrant weight of fruitage bore 
 
 From hedge and field the melancholy call 
 
 Of dappled quail, tells summer's reign is o'er. 
 
 On bough and branch the Autumn spreads her gold, 
 And red her vines has drained to stain the leaves, 
 Her soughing winds are wailing as of old 
 The swallows' nests are empty 'neath the eaves. 
 
 Soon, all too soon, will bough and branch hang bare, 
 And frozen earth, put on her robe of gloom, 
 The sedges rustle brown and withered, where 
 The waters murmur and the reed birds plume. 
 
 But Love, oh Love, to thee are all things one, 
 The summer's toil and fret, the Winter's chill; 
 Nor change nor age, can dim thy fervent sun 
 If faithful hearts will cling to thee through ill.
 
 166 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE FRIENDLY HERBS. 
 
 About my farm I find so many herbs and weeds that are 
 fragrant, and that minister to me. I know what that little 
 poem means: '7 know a bank whereon the wild Thyme grows". 
 I find spearmint, catnip, tansey, sweet fern, pennyroyal, hore- 
 hound and other herbs; along the soppy places of the ponds 
 and ditches, the sweet flag or calamus, and peppermint, riot 
 in growth; the sassafras and spice wood exhale a sweet per- 
 fume, and so many leaves of plants and trees are fragrant. I 
 watch the bees that revel in their sweets, and feel thanksgiv- 
 ing in my heart, and joy, when I look and meditate upon them. 
 I wonder what makes people want to take pills, and powders, 
 and drink alcholic liquors, when Nature sets so much before us 
 for our pleasure and our good. The older peoples relied upon 
 the humble herbs for teas in sickness, and I find they are good 
 to drink in health. Let the water be served hot, with catnip or 
 with pennyroyal or mints or sassafras or spice-wood, and we 
 have a tea that is full of the glamor of the Fairies and the 
 Wood Nymphs, and that is potent with the virtues of the woods 
 and fields. Catnip for the nerves, sassafras for the blood, 
 mints for colds, etc., but as beverages, why not? Mocha and 
 Java coffees, Japan, Imperial, Black and Green Teas are good, 
 but why not teas of these pleasant herbs a Loving Hand has 
 planted everywhere? They do not grow where woods and fields 
 and by-ways are wild, but they come with men and civilization, 
 and where our feet press the earth, they most spring up, these 
 friendly kindly herbs, which I have grown to look upon as almost 
 sentient. Dry them thoroughly and store in glass jars 
 tightly sealed, and use, as one takes the whim or pleasure. A 
 Pink Tea is pretty, but why not as well a Catnip, a Sassafras, 
 a Peppermint or a Spice -wood Tea? Try it, you will like it, 
 these uses of the friendly herbs.
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 167 
 
 BALKING THE HAY. 
 
 OFF FOR THE FARM. 
 
 I love to see the men bale hay, stuffing it into the receiver 
 from mow and stack, driving the horses round and round, 
 bringing the great power down with tremendous pressure, forc- 
 ing one hundred pounds of dry grass to go into the small compass 
 of a bale that it may be kept safe and dry in small spaces and 
 be hauled and shipped with ease. In goes the hay, round go 
 the horses, "Clack" says the Baler, and out comes a package 
 of the scented grass or clover or straw neatly wired, and ready* 
 for the hooks, that pile it in heaps, or lift it on wagons to be 
 hauled away. 
 
 The demand these strenuous days is for baled hay. It is 
 interesting to see the men at work. It takes three, as a rule 
 to run the baler alone; one to feed, one to drive, and one to 
 take the hay out if it is in the open; but if it is in the barn it 
 takes two to feed the baler, one to toss the hay out, another to 
 bring it to the feedman. I have forked hay to a baler from a 
 mow; it is hustling work to feed out to the baler, but the man 
 who fetches the hay to the pitcher has a harder task. Boys 
 often drive the horses for the balers. I had one at my place 
 the last time I baled hay, and I claim for him the World's 
 Championship as the youngest hay baler. Charlie was eleven 
 years old and came with the balers; a black eyed, ruddy
 
 168 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 cheeked, chunky little chap, with the ways of a man. He was 
 so small that the horse next to him on the team he drove, tried 
 to take out her aggravations on thesmalltad driving it, and who 
 made it go, when it had rather not; so she kicked at my little 
 Champion every chance she got till, to ensure his safety, a 
 piece of wire was fastened over her hips to stop her fractious 
 legs. Charlie was treated like a man by the men, and he felt 
 like a man, and he will be matured at twenty years, and be a good 
 citizen able to make his own way. This is what the farm will 
 do for a boy; it teaches him to work as a means to an end; it 
 develops the manly qualities; it develops the business sense. 
 The boy and girl, if they want something, knows just how to go 
 about to get it, and the world wants and calls for these boys 
 and girls, and the farmer's sons and daughters sit in the high 
 places of the earth, because they know how to work, and how 
 by this means to attain what they consider good. 
 
 Charlie is my eleven year old champion hay baler, and 
 so we bale our hay and make a festival of the work, too.
 
 A LOVE STORY 169 
 
 THE LILY POND AND WATER GARDEN. 
 
 There is no farmer but that can have a Lily ponds where 
 white, blue, pink and yellow lillies, and lotus, may bloom each 
 year to delight the eye by their beauty, and satisfy the senses 
 with their fragrance. I have one where the pigs used to wal- 
 low, but I have chased them out and planted lillies, and pickerel 
 weed, and indian arrow heads and cat tails and reeds, water 
 dock and parrots feather, wild rice and other aquatic plants. I 
 delight to make the acquaintance of the water plants, and I 
 learn much from them. The frogs have Operettas there in 
 every season of the year except winter, and I am partial to their 
 silvery chanting, and to the profundo basso of the big bull 
 croakers. I could have fish if the water were a little deeper, 
 and, if I could get a spring near enough to feed it, I'd raise water 
 cress. The dogs, cats, chickens, pigeons and birds drink at 
 my pond, and the dogs, when hot with_hunting, slop in its cool- 
 ing contents. 
 
 By all means have a water garden, then you will not need 
 to go long distances to nourish the soul with beauty, nor hang 
 pictured representatives of these water flowers and reeds on 
 your walls. We farmers'may possess the real thing and at a 
 small expense. To learn to want them is the main point.
 
 170 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 I FIX A FIELD. 
 
 I had a house in town I traded for a field. There were fifty- 
 three acres in it, and it was not considered first class land by 
 many. I tore out and cleared out the remains of an old fence 
 along the front, and the brush and trees and weeds that made 
 it unsightly. I had two men with plough and horses tear that 
 fence row for a week, for the roots were awful. There was a 
 sag in the field and it held water. I told a man who had it 
 rented before I bought, to break out all the dead furrows through 
 that fence row to the road. Said he with a grin, ''That's too 
 much work", and he did not raise half a crop. Everybody 
 seemed to have worked that land in the same style, so it got a 
 bad name. I put in ten acres of oats, and we ploughed in nar- 
 :row lands, and cut all the dead furrows to the ditch outside. I 
 Tented six acres to a man who wanted Millet land, and he 
 ploughed and ditched out as I told him, in narrow lands; later he 
 put in eleven more acres to timothy, and ploughed narrow lands 
 and cut out ditches. I had rented 12 acres of it for corn, and 
 the orders were to plough it narrow and to the ditch, and I had 
 my men cut and dig a ditch at one point to drain the water out 
 of the sag. Later on we ploughed the rest of the fifty-three 
 acres in the same fashion and sowed it with wheat. And now 
 the folks say "Why that is good land", and want to rent it. 
 That field had been abused and robbed, and so it got a bad 
 name. I have bought forty acres adjacent to it since, that was 
 not promising to the eye, but I can make it bring me crops, and 
 now cow peas, cane, wheat, oats and hay have all been planted 
 on it; and I love to learn the how, and order the work, and I 
 know that land will sometime repay me for what I do for it. I 
 love the farm life better than life in town by far; it seems to me 
 I'd like to live a thousand years like old Methusalah and enjoy 
 the works of God, and this beautiful world we live in. I'd rath- 
 er fix a field, and see it come into a bounteous harvest, than any 
 work I do in town.
 
 A LOVE STORY 171 
 
 THE FARM AT WAR. 
 
 The Farm dwellers always have a war of some sort off 
 hands, The weed question is the most important in field and 
 garden, and is always an unsettled question that engages the aid 
 of everybody large and small, for upon its settlement depends 
 the returns of the earth. I war too. I hate the poke and dock, 
 and cuckle burr, and burdock and beggar lice, andjimson weeds, 
 and when I go over my place I arm myself with corn knife and 
 . hoe to wage a war of extermination. The Poke is a magnifi- 
 cent plant with its great branching top, its ruddy stems and 
 handsome and luxuriant crop of berries, but oh how it spreads 
 and crowds the crops. I whack off their heads when in bloom 
 but they often beat me to the goal; and how many little plants 
 spring up to mock me if they are allowed to seed. The roots 
 have certain medicinal virtues, but must be dried, and then do 
 not weigh much, so I slice the big fat roots and stems with my 
 hoe and that usually kills the plants. Burdock and cuckle burrs 
 are awful to stick in horses tails, in sheep's wool and in women's 
 skirts. The dogs have a time, picking them out of their own 
 coats, and they take turns in picking them out of each others 
 heads and necks. I slash burdock right and left with hoe and 
 corn knife, as everybody else does. Like the girl who named 
 the carpet she had to beat for her worst enemy, I slash weeds 
 named for all sorts of things I do not like. I cut off the heads 
 of a whole lot of bad things, and am quite satisfied with the fight 
 I have made, and it refreshes one a bit. The great Jimson weeds 
 with their sharp burrs are so tremendously prolific and arrive 
 every year in good season to mock the farmer and spoil him 
 if they can, but when the hoes get to work in the hands of the 
 farm dwellers, there is an awful slaughter of these would be 
 robbers of the crops and soil. 
 
 Some weeds like dock and lambs' quarter and sour dock are 
 good for greens as food, but the dock will get you if you don't 
 look out. Lambs quarter on my farm is like a vegetable, so 
 fine and large, and makes delicious greens, as good as spinach, 
 and it takes care of itself. 
 
 The Chinch bug and the Hessian fly are bad, but we are 
 learning how to conquer and outwit them. The caterpillars
 
 172 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 and moths and worms, that eat and destroy our small fruits and 
 our Orchards we have learned to march on; and with pumps 
 and sprays and emulsions we fight them with vigor, and they 
 fall before us, and the grateful trees return us praise in riches 
 of their kind. 
 
 So we wage our peaceful war, and are refreshed and invig- 
 orated in body and in purse. We conquer; we destroy this 
 army on the farm, who go to battle each year, and we grow in 
 the knowledge of God's laws as well. It is a war we need to 
 wage, and not a war on each other.
 
 A LOVE STORY 173 
 
 IN THE HAY MOWS. 
 
 Since I was a child I loved a great hay mow; not a little 
 one, but a big one, where the hay and oats and wheat and corn 
 is stored, where one can hide away if things go wrong, and 
 think, cry or pray or sleep, and no one bothers. On rainy days 
 when the rain pounds on the roof, what dreams run to and fro 
 within one's brain, and what plans are laid in the hay mows 
 fragrant recesses. I love to see a hen, with solemn and mysterious 
 look slipping into the hay mow to find a place she considers 
 good enough to deposit her treasure of a nice fresh egg. She 
 not only has in mind that egg, but other eggs and some pretty 
 little downy chicks she hopes some day to mother and cluck to. 
 Here in this great old mow the men, too, often gather on stormy 
 days and plan the work ahead, and rest in the sweet scented 
 treasure of the hay, the clover, the wheat and corn. The birds 
 find a shelter and a welcome in my two big mows in winter, for 
 I have two of them, and the treasure of the mows makes the 
 barns all the more comfortable for horses and cattle and- sheep 
 in winter; and the poultry all delight to shelter here, when ' 'days 
 are cold and dark and dreary". We all need the big hay mows 
 on the farm.
 
 174 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE FRESHETS. 
 
 "The gates of heaven opened and the floods decended". The 
 Bible. 
 
 When it rains and rains, we farmers who live on the creeks 
 and rivers know we shall have a freshet, that will fill the creeks 
 and rivers to the brim, and then back up andjoverflow their banks 
 and fill their basins, or as we call them, bottoms, full. The 
 value of bottom lands depends largely on the overflows, for the 
 waters bring enrichment to them from everywhere. One will 
 be asked, ' 'Does the river come over the bottom lands you own" ? 
 If one can say "Yes", it's all right, for it settles the value of the 
 land. If the rains come and the waters rise after the corn and 
 the other bottom crops are up, and growing, the farmer is full of 
 lamentation. He may have to replant his crop. The seed men 
 offer corn that matures in ninety, days, and we have all sorts 
 of ways of saving ourselves. We can plant millet and cane if 
 not too late, and if no fall freshet catches us we shall have a 
 crop. But we feel shakey when the rains begin to pour, and 
 sometimes they damage us sorely, wiping out all or portions of 
 the crop, and what is left will be in bad condition. We tile our 
 fields, and thus run the water off quickly when the flood abates. 
 It is a doleful sight to see the water running all over the bot- 
 toms and the corn all covered up except a high top. One can't 
 replant corn that late. I've seen rain fall, and in thirty minutes 
 everything was full on the roadsides, If this keeps up for two 
 or three days the bottoms will be a gruesome sight. I always 
 think of Noah in his ark, and when I sit on a hill and look at 
 my bottom fields, and those of my neighbors full of water, I 
 have to pray hard to keep cool and sweet and see the disaster 
 under my eyes and know that others suffer even worse than I. 
 And yet, the water leaves a gift in our fields when it comes 
 like that. Sometimes great logs come down and the debris of 
 the clearings and of the corn fields of the year before, and on 
 trees and water gaps it catches and hangs and we have to drag 
 and clean it off, and later burn this stuff. So the freshets make 
 us work for what they fetch us. Sometimes we are water
 
 A LOVE STORY 175 
 
 bound, as we say. There are no bridges over a stream perhaps, 
 or the approach is too low, and we can't get through unless we 
 risk drowning; and when the currents are swift as often hap- 
 pens, we take no risks but wait till the waters subside. The 
 freshets are some of the interesting and troublesome things of 
 farm life for, while they enrich the fields, they so often make 
 havoc with the crops.
 
 176 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE CLOVER FIELDS. 
 
 A CLOVER FIELD. 
 
 Red, White, Bokhara, Alsike and Alfalfa Clovers. 
 
 All farmers are advised to plant common red clover to get 
 good fields and to restore to the soil what other crops take from 
 it. No feed is counted "balanced", now, unless it has a certain 
 share of clover in it. Horses, cows, calves, sheep, pigs and 
 chickens all eat and thrive on it. We feed our horses red clov- 
 er, cut and wilted over night, as soon as we can get it in the 
 spring, and they love it and get in good condition from its use 
 and work well, and it makes one glad to see how they do enjoy 
 it. The seed costs much, but when one has clover well set, it 
 can be ploughed under and it comes up again, and then we cut 
 again, snd it will seed again. I sowed a field in oats and clover. 
 We cut two crops and then we turned it under and planted 
 wheat, and then we had a clover field that was better than the 
 first planting. The sheep and horses pasture clover after the 
 crop is cut till the frosts come, and it is no longer safe to pasture, 
 for it is not good to break the crown of the plant by the heavy 
 feet of stock when it is frozen One can cut and thrash out 
 clover seed and that fetches a fine price, and is counted a money 
 maker. 
 
 I plant much clover and shall plant more. For pasturage 
 it cannot be excelled, and dry it is always fine and a good price. 
 It is a little harder to cure than hay, as it is so full of sap. 
 When we store it in the barns it is our custom to salt it which 
 is preservative. Nothing is more beautiful than the red clover
 
 A LOVE STORY 177 
 
 fields in full bloom, their blossoms are so pink, the field is 
 dainty with that color. Their fragrance fills the air, and the 
 Bumble bees are hustling everywhere to serve us by fertiliz- 
 ing. The boys have orders not to fight and kill my "Bumble" 
 bees for, queer to say, many of the boys make paddles and go 
 on the war path to destroy them. A boy was telling me how he 
 fought and killed a lot of mine*, and when I told him the clover 
 would not seed without the Bumble bees, and why, he under- 
 stood when I told, him not to kill mine, he knew just what it 
 meant. When I run across a nest of Bumble bees in the clover 
 field I do not slap and bang, I get away. I have never yet been 
 stung, though now and then my horses are. I revel in my 
 blooming clover fields and send wireless messages to all of my 
 friends to come and enjoy them I know a woman cured of 
 tuberculosis, who had lost one lung entirely. She drank clover 
 tea and lived much in the clover fields. I enjoy to rake the 
 clover hay, and rejoice to see my barn mows stored full with it, 
 and to see the stacks dot my meadows. It is my hope to follow 
 all my crops with clover, so I sow the seed and will have it cut 
 and thrashed, and ploughed under, and then it seeds and makes 
 my fields all sweet and lovely again. White clover we sow for 
 pastures, the only thing I object to is, it slobbers the stock bad- 
 ly now and them. Alsike Clover we sow in low places; it makes, 
 good fine hay, and is a good basis for Timothy and Red Top hay 
 fields. The Bee or Bokhara clover I sow in all sorts of places 
 where the soil is thin, and in the gullies where the soil washes, 
 for it enriches and binds the earth and the grasses come. The 
 stock all eat and like it. It can be cured if we see fit. In 
 Europe, I am told it is salted, cured and fed to work steers and 
 cows. A farmer I know said cattle learn to eat it, when cured 
 right. Alfalfa I have planted, but as yet have not made suc- 
 cess of it, but I will some day. The Japanese clover is creep- 
 ing this way from the South, and I wander what it amounts 
 to anyway, except to grow in bald, bare spots and on naked banks. 
 It looks pretty and mossy. The Red Clover is our main hold on the 
 farms, but all the Clovers are valuable and should be planted. 
 I had a red clover field of ten acres that was fine. I cut 
 about ten tons of hay from it. The second crop I planned to 
 cut for seed, and how proud I was about the clover seed I was
 
 178 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 to get off of that field. I said ' 1 will not have to buy clover 
 seed any more; I will have all I want this year, and can sell 
 some' '. The second crop was as fine as the first and I thought 
 to get a lot of seed from it, but we were busy, and the field was 
 quite a distance away, and when I sent my farmer to it I was 
 too late. The crop had ripened and was not in a condition to 
 cut, and like the little girl wht> counted her chickens before 
 they were hatched, my hopes came to naught for that crop of 
 clover seed. Of course it was not a total loss for the seed lies in 
 the field, but we did not particularly need it there. However, 
 I shall plough that field unoler and I shall expect some bump- 
 er corn, and the clover will come up just as thick as ever. So 
 after all, I shall only have to wait, but I did not want to, and I 
 had to buy clover to sow in another field. 
 
 I had a dog who always wanted to howl when a Church bell 
 near me rang, but I taught him not to howl by talking to him. 
 When I think of all that clover seed I lost, I think I feel like the 
 dog when he heard the bell. But I talk to myself a little and 
 cease lamenting. I learned much that I did not know before, 
 if I did lose my seed and all it represented, for I am here and 
 more clover is coming on in other places, so I feel thankful 
 anyway.
 
 A LOVE STORY 179 
 
 ' 'Said the mountain to the squirrel, You're a prig. 
 
 Said the Squirrel to the mountain 
 
 Though I'm not as big as you 
 
 You cannot crack a nut." Emerson. 
 
 The trees on my farm have many squirrels in them, gray 
 and the red fox sort. Once a hunting ground for all sorts of 
 game, my farm has now become a game preserve, and no wild 
 things are allowed to be hunted or killed, so the squirrels race 
 and romp and run undisturbed, in the trees and over the ground 
 with us. And if they now and then levy toll on the corn fields 
 and the cribs, no one makes complaint. 
 
 The dogs almost go wild chasing and hunting them; they 
 race and run about the feet of the trees, squinting upwards 
 where the squirrels lie outstretched on the limbs, and grinning 
 contempt at them, and flipping their saucy tails in jibing. 
 
 Bussie, my little tan terrier used to get so excited he would 
 try to climb trees to get at them. There was a double tree in 
 the barn yard and he'd brace his back on it, and climb up several 
 feet toward the saucy big tails, but his barking and excitement 
 was all the benefit he got of his efforts. 
 
 It is a pretty sight to see a lot of young squirrels running 
 and racing and climbing trees like a lot of kittens: I will not 
 allow them killed. I wish they would not go into my neigh- 
 bors fields where they often meet hunters who end their cheer- 
 ful lives, that on my farm are protected.
 
 180 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE FORDS. 
 
 Fulfer Creek, cuts across a field on my farm and we have to 
 ford it. The freshets washed the creek bed out, one bank be- 
 gan to mire the horses; the other was too steep, and cut in on 
 a neighbors land at the turn. I went with my farmer in a 
 wagon and we took stones from a hill side near and dumped 
 them in the mirey bank and creek bed and made a solid bot- 
 tom. We cut some willow trees and anchored them with wire 
 cables, and on this bottom we spiked rails for a foundation. 
 The water was deep and we feared the stones would catch the 
 horses feet; so the steep bank we treated with a plough and 
 cutting scraper, and we soon had a solid dirt cover on our rail 
 and tree foundation. The bank was no longer a mire hole and 
 we crossed the new made ford in safety. I drove the horses 
 and bossed the job, and one of the men handled the scraper. It 
 was a delightful task to me to see that ford develop. 
 
 The Wabash River cuts across the end of a field of mine, 
 and bars us out of the rest of the field. There is no shallow 
 handy but a bank caved in and made a place for an approach, 
 and by planting some willow poles and posts, I can make an ap- 
 proach on one side, the other bank is handy. I have a lot of 
 stones on a hill near by I'm going to dump into the river bed 
 and make a shallow, and then I'll doctor it until I have a ford, 
 that is a ford, and not expensive either. Then I can go across 
 my land the shortest way in safety, and save time by not hav- 
 ing to go around; and I will have the satisfaction of having 
 made the little Wabash River obedient to my will. If the Dutch 
 could bar out the sea from Holland and dry the Zuyder Zee, 
 and raise good crops in its once watery bed, I can't see why I 
 shouldn't make the little river mind me. American Engineers 
 checked the Colorado River, which broke out and made the 
 great Salton Sea, so I will I think order the Little Wabash to 
 my will. 
 
 The great Rivers which are forced to irrigate the dry lands 
 of America, the great tunnels like that of the Gunnison, the 
 damming of the Salton Sea, and other great dams which hoard 
 the water, convince me I can do with the puny Wabash as I will. 
 So many creek and river crossings are bad. I can't see why
 
 A LOVE STORY 181 
 
 road commissioners and especially farmers do not put the creek 
 and river fords in order. I want good and permanent fords, 
 and so increase the beauty and value of my farm. I shall 
 plant cat tails and wild rice and other water plants at the Fords 
 too, and in time I shall make farms not my own, to show our 
 water beauties by the planting at my Fords, for the seeds and 
 roots will travel in time down the creek and river, because of my 
 fords.
 
 182 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 ADVENTURES. 
 ' 'Fear is an ague. ' ' 
 
 I am naturally a coward. I was as a child afraid of the 
 dark. I could not understand why people dared go in the streets 
 after night and in the dark: I always apprehended danger, 
 and suppose I always shall, it is a weakness inherent in me. I 
 was afraid of horses. Yet by my will, I subjugate my cowardice 
 and I do things I am afraid to do. 
 
 For many years I drove from March to December and held 
 temperance meetings. I drove by night often ; sometimes there 
 was a moon and sometimes not. I usually carried a dash lan- 
 tern, but now and then I forgot it. I often held night meetings 
 and would drive home afterwards. By this means T had rest in 
 my own bed and saved a day. I learned, too, that horses travel 
 better at night, and I got home sooner than in the day, and I 
 was not so weary either; I desired to economize in time, as I 
 always had more than enough to do. 
 
 We once had a little sorrel nag which had been raced, al- 
 though we did not know it when we bought her. She was not 
 vicious, but did unexpected things. Once two small boys started 
 to take her to the stable, when I was out for a meeting, and 
 she gave a side whip, upset the buggy and tore the top off. I 
 hitched her to it to get her wonted so we could drive home, for 
 we were eighteen miles out, and she tore the buggy seat up and 
 ate our dinner. I got a stout young man used to handling horses 
 to start her on the home stretch, and she undertook to run. He 
 and his brother hung on and finally we got in; it was a "ground 
 hog case". The young man rode with us and drove two miles, 
 then had to leave us. Fortunately I had a young woman with 
 me who was not afraid. Ruby the mare behaved very well af- 
 ter that, however, I suppose she was used to such affairs as a 
 racer, but the night came on and we had forgotten the lantern, 
 and were obliged to cross a heavily wooded creek bottom where 
 a high bridge without side protection crossed the water down 
 below. We could not see a thing when we reached the creek, 
 so I got out of the buggy and felt my way along the road until 
 we crossed the bridge, while my friend drove. It was not a 
 pleasant experience to say the least.
 
 A LOVE STORY 183 
 
 Another night I was with another friend and we were 
 caught in a terrific storm of rain and hail and wind. Three times 
 we turned the buggy for it seemed it would surely go over. 
 "Tony", our horse, was young but brave. I thought he'd run 
 when the hail struck him, but he tucked his head and tail close 
 and kept still "Oh" said my friend, "what shall we do"? That 
 was what I was thinking too, but I said, "We can ask God and 
 His Angels to care for us". We arrived home safely, to find 
 there had been no storm behind us and no storm ahead of us; 
 we had struck the vortex. 
 
 Another night I was out with another friend and a heavy 
 storm came up. Oh, how it rained and blew! It was so dark 
 we could see nothing, and when the lightning flashes came 
 they were terrific and almost blinded us, the thunder was fright- 
 ful. We had to cross a bridge over the Little Wabash River, 
 and the entrance was at the foot of a very steep, curving hill. 
 We waited until a flash of lightning would show us where we 
 were, and then move on. The last wait was to make sure we 
 hit the narrow opening of the bridge so we might not go off the 
 steep bank into the river. Sometimes the horse, beaten by the 
 storm, wandered sideways; I could tell it by the scraping of 
 his feet in the underbrush, for we were on a terrible road. The 
 rain came in torrents, then it lulled; but it was too dark to see, 
 and we had a lot of steep, narrow hills to cross. We called up 
 a man from a house from which a light shone, and fortunately 
 he had a lantern. He piloted us over the hills and then loaned 
 us the lantern to go the rest of the way. 
 
 I have been out when the wind blew, and the night was not 
 dark ; then we could see the magnificent cloud mountains in the 
 sky, and sometimes the stars alight, and the lightning like a 
 great sword would gash the firmament with resistless power 
 that awakened awe within the soul. The wind was sometimes 
 terrific and roared like a storm at sea it seemed to me. People 
 who drive at night see and experience many things the day 
 does not bring forth. I've been out in all sorts of storms by 
 day and night and lightning always startles and gives me pain. 
 I am always thankful to get safe home. 
 
 One afternoon I went to my farm with a heavy load on my 
 wagon. It became dark and I had forgotten my lantern in the
 
 184 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 hurry of getting off. It was winter; the mud was deep, but 
 it was not cold. A heavy mist or fog was over everything; it 
 was a decidedly "spookey" night. I came down the big hill 
 safely, crossed the dark bottom and the covered bridge, and 
 started up the hill. It was steep and curving and full of mud and 
 chuck holes. The mud seemed to me hub deep almost; there 
 was a bench where the water caught, and the mud was deeper 
 and made a hole; and then there came a sudden rise. Dan and 
 Don, my horses, hated that hill and that spot, and made a quick 
 pull to get up and not stick, when crack! something snapped, 
 the wagon stopped, Don pawed the earth, and there I was at 
 a dead stop on the worst part of the road and it was too dark 
 to see anything, and no lantern. I was about two miles from 
 my stopping place. I felt as if I would like to sit down and 
 cry, but I dared not, sol climbed down the best I could, waded the 
 mud which was about to the top of my boots, and as slippery as 
 butter, and holding on to the horses and harness, began to feel 
 to find what was the trouble. I had suspected it was the neck 
 yoke on Dan's side; I had bought a new one for my special use 
 but an old one had been put on and the ring came out. The 
 pole was down; Dan's single-tree was torn loose from the dou- 
 ble tree, and there I was; it was awful. I slipped and slid 
 through the mud to the rear of the wagon where I had some 
 wire hanging in case of accident. I felt for the hole in the 
 single and double-tree with my fingers, and after a while got a 
 double wire through the hole and fastened it, and put on the tugs. 
 Don kept pawing and snorting and jerking and throwing 
 muddy water on everything and me, and, as his tugs were at- 
 tached, he jerked things badly; I just missed getting my hand 
 caught between the wheel with its heavy iron rim and the 
 double tree, and so missed a bad hurt; I had a good scare. I 
 crawled to the horses heads, got the tongue in the ring and 
 managed to wire the neck yoke to the pole and Dan. I seized 
 the lines, took hold of the dash board of the wagon and drew 
 myself up on the double-tree. Gee! the horses started like they 
 were furious. I uttered a prayer for safety, and up the hill we 
 went I hanging on to the end of the wagon and nothing but 
 the wriggling double tree under my feet. I was well frightened; 
 suppose I had lost my hold or the end of the wagon had broken,
 
 A LOVE STORY 185 
 
 it was an old one, where would I have been? I could not use 
 the lines for I had to hang on for my life, it seemed to me. I 
 remembered there were no deep ditches at the road side where 
 I could upset. When we reached to the top of the hill the 
 horses stopped to get their breath, and I got in the wagon, 
 pretty well shaken up. The team was tame enough after the 
 pull up the hill, and I drove on the best I could. The men who 
 unhitched said they wondered the horses did not run away for 
 the lines were all out of ' 'kelter, ' ' and the harness also, but ' 'Dan- 
 nie" and "Bonnie" wouldn't do me that way I knew, and a 
 kindly Providence that watches over children and fools, seemed 
 to care for me. 
 
 On another occasion I had an old surry, minus a top, hitched 
 behind my buggy, and on that, in state, in a big crate, was a 
 Duroc Jersey stock hog that weighed about 300 Ibs. Some of the 
 folks told me I'd break down, so I had something to think of; 
 but we got on fine till I was almost at the gate of my farm. I 
 turned to one side to avoid a bad piece of road when, alas, the 
 surry which was low hung, struck a stump and stuck. I 
 jumped out, and found I couldn't get off. Two saplings being 
 handy, I tied the horses; then I discovered the oil in my lan- 
 tern was about out, and it was dark, so I started and ran the 
 rest of the way, a mile at least. I had on rubber boots and the 
 earth was slippery with water, but I ran my best. Two of the 
 men went out at my call and got the rig off the stump, so we 
 landed the hog and all in safety. 
 
 On another occasion I hitched a Texas pony to my buggy 
 and started to look after some work the men were doing. When 
 I went to climb the bank of the creek the pony could not make 
 it. The buggy was heavy, and she was small, and try her best 
 she could not get up the bank. I jumped out and thought, re- 
 lieved of my weight, she might get up the bank, but she 
 couldn't; then, like many of the Western horses she con- 
 cluded to do as she pleased. She backed and backed and jerked 
 the lines out of my hands; she'd have upset the buggy had I 
 not let loose; then she turned and recrossed the creek towards 
 home. She struck the end of a log with a wheel and it 
 dropped; that stopped her. But I was on the opposite side of 
 the creek and the water was deep. I ran up and down feeling
 
 186 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 like a fool, looking for a place to cross, but there was not a 
 place. I noticed a little dog with me had to swim as he 
 crossed the creek, and I did not know where the holes were. I 
 finally got a long stick and felt before me, and in I waded. It 
 was pretty deep and I was good and wet, but I got dry gar- 
 ments, took another route, and reached my work. I have 
 worked that creek bank since then and we can get out now 
 fairly well. 
 
 I had a Texas pony that I traded for; she was a good little 
 beast, and I called her Daisy, because she was a daisy. She 
 had never been hitched to a wagon before I bought her, and the 
 men said I'd have fun with her, for she would not pull a pound. 
 She felt very queer when she started first, but we "whooped up" 
 the horse which was harnessed with her so she would have no 
 time to think very much. We had a hill to climb and the young 
 fellow with me said ' 'You will have fun at that hill for she will 
 not pull a pound there". He had a team, as we were going af- 
 ter another wagon: "Frank", I said, "hitch Snip to the wagon 
 pole and along side of Daisy; she won't know she is going up a 
 hill". So we managed it that she had no time for antics of any 
 kind, and when we loaded with bricks at Mason, a small town 
 below us, she just pulled her best. One day I was going to Eff- 
 ingham and had a bag of potatoes in the buggy, and going 
 down the hill to the bridge, from some cause or other, the buggy 
 crowded her, and quick as a flash away she went down that aw- 
 ful hill, in a zig zag route, in and out the ditches, and kicking 
 at every jump. I though I was a "goner" that time, but I held 
 on and "whoaed", but I might as well have kept still. I sup- 
 posed she was likely to jump off the bank and land me in the 
 river to be drowned or smashed to death. There was a sort of 
 a shelf at one side of the road at the bottom and she made one 
 wild plunge for the bank; the wheels struck the bench; she 
 whirled around, and stood with her head where her tail ought 
 to have been, the shafts under her chin, the harness twisted 
 about her neck and head. She had kicked the single tree and 
 the cross bar all to pieces, and she stood quietly and looked at 
 me as if to say, "Now what do you think"? I took out my 
 knife to cut her loose from the harness, and found the tugs had 
 come loose, but she had not broken the harness; it had just
 
 A LOVE STORY 187 
 
 slipped up around her neck; however, I had to get new shafts. 
 We drove her single and double afterwards, and I always 
 thought, and do yet, that her harness was out of fix someway 
 and let the buggy on her or she wouldn't have run and kicked 
 as she did. 
 
 Another time I was out with the hay makers and Daisy 
 stuck on a bad bank. She was small and the buggy heavy, and 
 she couldn't get out. I got out by jumping and then waded to 
 the bank. The men were going to whip her out, but I said 
 "Don't you doit; if you do, she will lie right down in the 
 creek and break her harness and the shafts all to pieces", 
 and sire would; as it was, she swayed and cracked the shafts. 
 One of the men took off his shoes and stockings and waded in 
 and the buggy was hauled out and she walked up the bank. 
 The Western horses have not faith in us like our domestic horses 
 have, who love their Masters and trust them when they get in 
 "tight" places. Those Western horses have been brought up 
 to rustle for themselves and they have faith in themselves, and 
 when their wild senses tell them they cannot do things, you 
 can't make them. I once had this same horse hitched to a load 
 of corn and she could pull it, and did fine. But the next day I 
 hauled another load and the men put on a little more corn, and 
 when we came to a hill and she felt the pull, she said she 
 couldn't, and she didn't pull up. She broke a piece out of the 
 wagon while I was trying to inspire her with a little confidence 
 in herself and .me. I got a boy and a horse to help me up three 
 hills on the road and then I started to make the rest of the way 
 myself with Dan and Daisy, but Daisy was suspicious. I hur- 
 ried both horses when I came to any little swag in the road, 
 and then I tapped Dannie with the whip, but I clucked to Daisy, 
 and tapped her lightly with the lines for she had felt the pull 
 and if I had touched her with the whip I feared she would 
 give every expressian of her feelings by kicking up, and if she 
 had done that on a swag we'd never have gotten out; for if she 
 had stopped with that weight once, it would have been "all 
 day" with that corn getting to town. I learned to respect her 
 judgment and make concessions to her temper. 
 
 I rode on a load of hay one day that had no boom pole, which 
 was a foolish thing for me to do. We came down an awful
 
 188 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 hill in safety, then we had to cross a creek where it was narrow, 
 and the banks bad on both sides; it was not on my land. I had 
 said I was afraid we'd break down there, but the men had hooted 
 at the idea. However, we drove down jolting into the water 
 and took the upper bank, when the King bolt broke, the wagon 
 tongue came out, the wagon slid back and stopped, tilted at a 
 sharp angle. I had been lying on top the load holding to a 
 pitch-fork stuck deep into the hay, but the fork came out with 
 the jolt, and I slid sideways and hung on a balance, with my 
 head down. I yelled to a young fellow on the load to catch 
 hold of me, for I had been very ill and had not regained my 
 strength in full, and I was not limbered up, but he wanearly 
 dead laughing, for the horses started to run, the driver fell off on 
 his knees; the men behind us with another load were yelling 
 their best at the fun, and it tickled him. I felt the load shake 
 as he laughed. I called again "Oh do take hold of me; If I fall 
 I'll fall on my head and break my neck". He reached out and 
 just touched my neck, and I was so nicely balanced my heels 
 slid down and I fell off the load and landed on my feet, scared 
 but thankful. I was absolutely helpless, I felt I was slipping, 
 and I was sure I'd break my neck. 
 
 I have had plenty of adventures, but these are enough, and 
 but for the fact that I am glad I conquered my natural cow- 
 ardice, I'd not have related them. Women who live on the 
 farms have to be brave. They must often stay alone and so 
 many things happen to try their courage, but they make better 
 Mothers of children and a better citizenship is due to the in- 
 spiration they give their sons and daughters to be brave. I 
 often think of those pioneer women who could endure hard- 
 ships, and could, if necessary, shoot and knife and tomahawk 
 Indians, to save their homes and children, and I say We are 
 running on the powerful influence of those women yet, we need 
 to cultivate brave spirits, and eliminate our cowardice by our 
 wills, and we shall master our fears by a determined spirit in 
 every adventure we meet.
 
 A LOVE STORY 189 
 
 MAKING ROADS AND DITCHES. 
 
 WORKING THE ROADS. 
 
 I like to help make roads and ditches. In the first place, 
 on my farm, I think out, and lay out the task; I am the "boss". 
 I often drive the horses to plough, drag or scarper while the 
 men guide the tools we use. 
 
 I have a small scraper such as is commonly used on roads, 
 but I bought me a cutting scraper with a tongue, and this is my 
 favorite for best results. I had a field into which a mess of 
 water ran from two big ravines, and from the hills adjacent 
 the water came upon us; the field was like a pond. There was 
 no good outlet so that I could tile, besides, I considered an open 
 ditch best. We ploughed and then cut out a ditch in that field 
 three and a half feet wide, and then cut and hauled with the 
 cutting scraper which carried almost a wagon load of dirt, and 
 we soon had that ditch done. The water came, and the first big 
 rain scoured the ditch out clean, and now the field has relief 
 from that water. Across another field we cut a ditch and we 
 hauled the dirt we cut, out into low swampy places and squeezed 
 a lot of water out. A small swamp and pond, is now dry and 
 ready for the plough.
 
 190 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 I had a field that had a slough and a wriggling runlet in it; 
 it was a horrid place. We spent a day ploughing and cutting a 
 ditch of about one hundred and fifty feet along the edge of a 
 high bank. We used the earth we cut out, to build up the bank 
 where it was low, and we made it so the water could not slop 
 over at the turn, and the field now looks and is improved; the 
 slough is gone, the zigzag runlet is filling up and getting out of 
 sight. When the willow roots rot out which we cut, we can 
 plough over and get rid of our runlet and clear the field. 
 
 I always boss the road making. I keep the roads narrow, 
 and do not stir the middle. We fill in the low places and turn 
 off the water, and at other places we use gravel and stone to 
 stop washes and avoid the making of culverts. Now and then 
 'we work out a bad place on a turn. We use our scraper in 
 making ditches along the road sides. We stand it on one corner 
 and it cleans out a ditch and saves much work. Then we use 
 the drag to finish up. 
 
 My men worked a big hill near my farm at the approach to 
 the Wabash River bridge, under my order, for I am obliged to 
 help work the public roads if I can't vote. It was the best job 
 that was ever done on it up to that time, and had it been 
 gravelled or stoned would have been permanent. The Road 
 Commissioner got credit for that job, and much praise too, and 
 yet he had nothing to do with it; he ordered my men to a place 
 far off, and I told them they could not go, as I was going to 
 have that awful hill worked; and it was. I have often solicited 
 the job of Road Commissioner in Effingham, but no, I've got no 
 vote, and though I'd make better and cheaper roads than those 
 they have, they would't hire me, I am a woman. The work I 
 have done has been on my own farm, and adjacent, where I have 
 roads a plenty to look after, and up hill and down too; I make 
 them in all sorts of places, and we drive everywhere on the land, 
 no matter how hilly, for I'boss, and see that the roads are made. 
 I talk with my men and get every body's ideas; sometimes their 's 
 are best, sometimes mine; and when we all "blow off" our 
 ideas, and we talk pretty loud sometimes, we go to work with 
 right good will, and we have some roads and ditches to show 
 for it all, that is worth while.
 
 A LOVE STORY 191 
 
 SOWING GRASS AND CLOVER SEED. 
 
 "Let the Earth bring forth grasses". Gen. I-II. 
 ' 'He maketh the grass to grow upon a thousand 
 hills". Bible 
 
 In walking over my farm I frequently found places where 
 there seemed to be little or no grass, and where it appeared to 
 me there ought to be grass. 
 
 Finally I reasoned it out; the cattle eat the seed, the roots 
 do not spread of what there is, rapidly enough to make good 
 feeding. So I began to sow grass seeds; red top, timothy, or- 
 chard grass, white, red and hardy and sweet and alsike clovers. 
 Especially I sowed on the broken land. I carried my seed in a 
 bucket and it was a heavy one, and I surely . did perform some 
 gymnastic feats, sowing the seeds on steep hill sides. The 
 ground was often so slick and damp, I found it hard to keep 
 foot hold, and carry my bucket, so I used legs, and as balancers, 
 for I did not wish to slide down hill and risk my seeds, for the 
 grass and clover seeds come high in price and bid fair to be 
 no less, ever. I begin now to raise my own seed, and will have 
 a seed house especially for them soon. 
 
 How happy I was when I found the seeds I sowed springing 
 up in all sorts of places, and when my stock began to find and 
 feed upon them. It seemed to me that the plants just winked 
 at me as I found them and said, "Here we are". I couldn't 
 for the life of 'me, keep from calling them pretty love names, 
 and thanking them for growing; and every year I sow more. It 
 is a pleasure that has no end. 
 
 Paul, that wonderful man, teaches us a good lesson when 
 he took a tiny seed in his hand and said "Behold, I show you a 
 mystery". It seems as if, when no man can explain the mystery 
 of the seed, and how it grows, and the marvel of leaf, bud and 
 flower and fruit, all hidden in that tiny circumference, that 
 men would hesitate to say there is no God. 
 
 Goethe, who made one of the wonderful discoveries in the 
 Metamorphosis of Plants, was no denier of God. Like the 
 great Agazzi, he was reverent before the Great Source of all 
 mysteries, we know so little of as yet.
 
 192 . .! - y A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 , ,^ m , f '.''"'-' ' 
 
 Tennyson was humble before God when he said "Behold, 
 we know not anything". 
 
 I remember one who said so long ago ' 'He maketh the grass 
 to grow upon a thousand hills", and I feel I am a co-worker with 
 God when I sow the seed, and I read messages from On High when 
 the tiny seeds I sow, so full of mystery, come up and speak to 
 me from the bosom of old Mother Earth. I am nearer to God, 
 and on the farm I feel I am closer to Him than anywhere in the 
 world. I am not vexed so much with evil things on the farm; 
 I can live in the silence with God. I can live in the midst of 
 mystery and beauty and life on the farm. And so I sow the 
 seeds of grass and clover and am thankful when they grow.
 
 A LOVE STORY _ 193 
 
 THE FOOLS PLAY. 
 
 .FROM MIDSUMMEK NIGHT'S DREAM.) 
 
 ''Oh Bottom thou art translated" Shakespeare. 
 
 We had a Lyceum in Effingham once upon a 
 time, that numbered in its ranks ambitious young 
 folks of all sorts; teachers, lawyers, musicians 
 preachers and others. We used to try our wings 
 with high ambition, and the poets and players 
 and singers all took part. We had scenes from 
 The Man in the Shakespeare in which we tried our budding 
 Moon-s DOR wings. Once we essayed the Fool's Play from 
 "Midsummer Night's Dream". Our stage setting was of the 
 meagerest, but what was that to us? We supplied all we lacked 
 like children, and those happy fools, with our imagination. 
 Oberon and Puck, Titania and Peas Blossom, Moth and Cobweb 
 and Mustard Seed, Bottom, John Quill and the other fools were 
 all represented. We invented our own costumes. Bottom's 
 head was made of pasteboard and covered with brown calico, 
 then dotted with spots of paint. One long ear had a string at- 
 tached, and he could wag it at his will. Thisbe, draped in a 
 sheet and a table cover made a striking heroine, and Pyramus 
 was terrible as an ardent lover when he stabbed himself again and 
 again with a knife of his own creation, made of the leaden lining 
 of a tea box, that created an illusion of entry into his flesh. Titania 
 was a sweet little lady in soft gossamer. The fairies, with 
 Puck, were well made up by their Mothers, and looked cute and 
 mysterious with long peacock feathers, in their caps. The man 
 in the moon carried an old tin lantern pierced with holes, which 
 somebody had saved from the long ago, his sod, his little terrier 
 dog, his make up and his style were all up to the play. I was 
 stage manager. It was a funny play that nearly broke us up 
 with laughing, and our audience took it well. Of that happy 
 play little remains but the tender memories and the friendships. 
 Titania like the fairies is no more; Quill is now a well known 
 public man ; Bottom is a successful member of the legal profes- 
 sion ; Puck is a very fine physician ; the Man in the Moon is a
 
 194 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 great success in business; Peas Blossom is the head of a College 
 of Verterinary; Mustard Seed is a wanderer; I well, I tell the 
 story of our ambitious youth, coveting the best, not troubled by 
 any difficulties in the way. Maybe it was a real fools play, but 
 we were not conscious of that, either. 
 
 None of that happy company were dullards, all have played 
 good parts in life. The curtain of life's drama rang down all 
 too soon on some who gave great promise of value in that play. 
 
 I often wish our Country folks would present the Shake- 
 spearian Rural plays, they could. In Shakespeare's day most 
 of the plays were given out of doors, just as some are now, 
 notably "As You Like It"; others are susceptible. Not one of 
 that bright company of ours who gave the Fool's Play, were 
 tempted to the stage as a profession. The Play and its presen- 
 tation were a means of culture, and became alive in them in 
 various ways. How much better it would be to give such plays 
 in the Country places, studying a great poet, and peopling the 
 woods and streams and all the country places, with the mind of 
 Shakespeares Imps and Fairies how much better than many 
 things we do. I'm a "Hayseed" now and as we Hayseeds fur- 
 nish so much brain and brawn to the world we could also fur- 
 nish good expositions of the minds and hearts of the greatest 
 thinkers and writers, and on our farms if we would.
 
 A LOVE STORY 195 
 
 THE SHE BEARS. 
 
 It is written that a lot of naughty children came out of a 
 village in the ancient days and mocked Elijah, the old Prophet, 
 and that two She Bears came out of the woods and tore forty 
 and two of these children. I often wonder why we denounce 
 the Old Book and its teachings, and laud the Pagan mytholygies. 
 It is patent that the She Bears of disrespect and irreverence, 
 tear the youth of today in their treatment of the aged, and holy 
 things; we do not seem as Christians, to be as far along the 
 route of respect for the good and true in civilization, as the Jew, 
 the Confucian and the Hindoo are in theirs. The Jew cherishes 
 the aged and holy men and women. The Chinese exact respect 
 of their young by law for those who are old. When the hill 
 men of the Hymalayas snatched old "Red Hat" from the 
 Christian Russian Spies they believed that disrespect of his age 
 and holiness, would bring disaster upon their households, their 
 cattle and their fields. 
 
 Under the most favorable condition we seem to raise many 
 of our youngsters like "hoodlums". Murderous games ap- 
 proved by the heads of Schools and Colleges would not be tol- 
 erated by Jews and Chinamen among their young. Our 
 youngsters are rushed around the Country to play match games 
 where they kill each other without compunction or conscience, 
 and the public goes to get "thrills". Many of our young of 
 both sexes have no use for religion, and they elbow and run 
 over those whose years ought to bring respect at least. 
 
 Oh yes, the "She Bears" story is true, and it is just as good 
 now as the day it was written, when old Elijah went about 
 -doing good, and the children and youth mocked him, and the 
 ""She Bears tore them".
 
 196 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE ROSE GARDEN. 
 
 "Sweet Rose to thee I speak, Oh, hear me what I say". 
 Villa Gillespie. 
 
 I have many June Roses on my farm in my Rose Garden. 
 I know them and for years I have gathered them up. Since 
 women have come to dislike the clutter of the rose that blooms 
 only in June, many have destroyed in the yards and gardens 
 the old June roses; but I have many and love them for their 
 profusion, their fragrance, and for the dear old memories con- 
 nected with them. A little semi-double red rose that blooms 
 the first of spring is sweet to me with memories of my Mother 
 who cultured and prized it, and it reminds me of other dear 
 friends who -kept it in their yards. The great pink cabbage 
 roses, the pale blush old provence roses, the white rose with 
 its creamy heart, the briery yellow and white scotch roses, the 
 old damasks, and deep dark reds are as rich to me with memo- 
 ries as they are with perfume. So I love them and culture 
 them all, and refresh my spirit. I gather armfulls of them in 
 their season and visit them constantly during their blooming. 
 My hybrid perpetuals and bourbons and teas and baby roses, 
 regale me with beauty and fragrance from April till almost 
 December each year. They run the whole gamut of color, from 
 palest white to deepest crimson and their fragrance is constant. 
 The hard winters have culled out many a tender one, but they 
 can always be replaced. I have a bed of sand and mould, and 
 in August and September I fill it with cuttings which I cover 
 with bottles and jars, and in the spring I remake my rose bed 
 with many new plants of my own raising, and they root and 
 thrive under glass and bottle, and I can make a rose gift to a 
 friend now and then. If one has time one can play Luther 
 Burbank and plant seeds, and fertilize and hybridize new va- 
 rieties, and so become a sort of miracle worker among the roses. 
 The excitement of the work is wholesome and delightful. 
 
 The Sun Dial stands like a sentinel in my rose garden and 
 reminds us of the flight times makes. Near by my rose garden 
 some grape vines stand and blend their odors with the roses in 
 the Spring.
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 EDMUND 1 JA^ES 
 
 All farmers can have rose gardens if they will, and Sun 
 Dials too. There's room for both, and need for the delight that 
 springs from beauty, fragrance and color and time. 
 
 THE SUN DIAL. 
 
 Come, Come, old Sol and tell me what's the hour. 
 
 Out where the sun strikes it, and 
 squared to the Compass stands my 
 Sun Clock, the Sun Dial; the only one 
 that I know of in my whole County, 
 and perhaps in many Counties in this 
 region of the earth. Old Sol is har- 
 nessed for me, He is my timekeeper 
 and he cannot lie. Only it is hard on 
 him and us, when the clouds take pos- 
 session and he cannot speak, for he is 
 obedient to law also. But it's worth 
 while to have a Sun Dial. They are 
 cheap and substantial and in addition 
 to keeping exact time, are a source of 
 wonder and pleasure to all who pass 
 my way. I often think if I had time 
 to study my Sun Dial more, and spend 
 more time with it, that I should find 
 out for myself, some of these wonder- 
 ful laws of God, of which there is no 
 square, level and plumb with right- 
 
 end, and which are all 
 
 eousness, as the Sun Dial is to the Compass.
 
 198 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 LANDING SOME POST-OFFICE OFFICIALS. 
 
 I had a friend who sent her young daughter to wait upon a 
 sick women who was poor,' and had a doubtful character. My 
 friend was so full of sympathy for the sick one, that she not 
 only sent her daughter to her, but went herself with tender 
 ministrations. I told her she should not have sent her daughter, 
 but she thought I was mistaken about the woman. My friend, 
 however, became suspicious of the parties who came to the 
 woman's house, and she learned that one was a Post-Office In- 
 spector. It seemed incredible, but we trailed things down and 
 we found we had a sure enough Post-Office Inspector who was 
 taking a harlot all over the country with him on his trips to in- 
 spect our Post-Offices. The two of us reported him to the 
 Post-master General, who sent another inspector to inspect this 
 one, and he. found we had the facts correct; that this man had 
 been taking a harlot with him to inspect our Post-offices. He 
 was playing the part of best friend to her. The second In- 
 spector told us he made that man "shake in his shoes;" he was so 
 bad scared he could not eat. He had a fine wife and two 
 daughters just graduated from High School. We were asked 
 to hold our tongues, which we did until now. The Inspector 
 was not dropped at once as he ought to have been. A Govern- 
 mental election was pending and he probably had influential 
 friends that it was not desirable to disturb I suppose; but no 
 doubt he was dropped at the first opportunity. If we had not been 
 certain of this we should have made "a racket" at once. We 
 too felt for the wife and daughters he had betrayed, but he was 
 a scandal to the Government and to our Country, and needed 
 chastisement. 
 
 I found another Post-master on the bond of a debased 
 criminal, and he had solicited others to go on the bond. I com- 
 plained of him to the Post-master General and later to Presi- 
 dent Taft, because the Post-master General was too slow to suit 
 the case, which was pressing, but the Post-master periled his 
 job, and he had to get off the bond. I pay taxes, I am a part of 
 the Government, and no Government official in my territory 
 shall break the law if I find it out, nor can he use the influence 
 of the Government to protect criminals. I will not allow it.
 
 A LOVE STORY 199 
 
 I may be too low in the scale of being for my countrymen to 
 let me use the ballot which is my right, but some things I can 
 do and I do them. Government Officials can be sure of trouble 
 if they break law where I am, and I find it out. I had rather 
 help elect officials to enforce law, as to chase lawbreakers, but 
 my country-men refuse me the opportunity so I take up the task 
 I can do, and bring offenders up standing when I can, and I 
 am glad we caught and brought those Post-office officials to 
 book. 
 
 I have since then been after the Dieterich Post Office in 
 Effingham County, where the Postmaster owns the building, one 
 side of which and under the same roof, he rents for a saloon. I 
 have made complaint to the Postmaster General and, I told the 
 Post Office Inspector who came at my call, that with the States 
 legislating saloons four miles from Churches and School Houses, 
 it was outrageous for the Government to allow such a condition 
 of things in Illinois and in Effingham County. I said, ' 'You 
 may think we like it, but we don't, and one of these days it 
 will result in disaster to your Party here". So far the Govern- 
 ment does nothing, but I am not done. I have reported an- 
 other Post Office where for ten years liquor was sold without 
 license in the Post Office and only stopped when the Postmaster 
 was indicted. The degraded, people made by those long years 
 of a Post Office saloon still exist, and the Post Office at that 
 place is a rendezvous for them I am told, even yet. I do not as 
 yet know what has been done, but this I know. I am not yet 
 done with either of these Post Offices.
 
 200 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 FAIRIES, BROWNIES, NYMPHS, GNOMES AND GENII. 
 
 ARIEL. - 
 
 ' 'Before you can say come and go 
 And breathe twice and say so, so, 
 Each one tripping on his toe 
 Will be here." 
 
 PROSPERO- 
 
 " 'Ariel, chick be free" . Tempest. 
 
 When Ben Franklin told the world Electricity was not man- 
 ufactured, but collected, men laughed and scoffed and looked 
 solemn. When he said the thunder was not God's voice rebuk- 
 ing men from the heavens, but the operation of that unseen 
 force Electricity, horror-stricken men declared him a blasphemer. 
 But when he captured the electric spark, with kite and key and 
 handkerchief, there was a great awakening over the earth. 
 When, with the practical bent that American thinkers have, he 
 invented the lightning r,od, men who are more afraid of light- 
 ning than of all the other tremendous forces of nature, set them 
 up on their houses, all over the world and made our Great Ben- 
 jamin a member of Royal Societies (not very scientific then), 
 and lauded him. I often wonder if, when Franklin sent up his 
 kite with a key and handkerchief attached, if he felt all or any 
 of the things that were to grow out of that simple experiment. 
 No doubt he had his dreams as Samuel Morse had too, when he 
 said ' 'I can take that power which Franklin captured and har- 
 nessed, and I can make it work for men long distances apart 
 and make it do their bidding, and they can talk to each other as 
 face to face". Cyrus Field later on, dreamed his dream of 
 linking the whole world together with the power Franklin cap- 
 tured, and Morse utilized according to his dream, and we sit 
 under the evening lamps or in the morning light and say, as 
 the first message, over the first submarine cable said, ' 'What 
 hath God wrought". For be it known the men then, who stud- 
 ied God's laws did not deny their author. These three men 
 drew the world to-gether as one family, as a free people, as 
 free thinkers. It was easy for them to think God's thoughts 
 after him.
 
 A LOVE STORY 201 
 
 Later came Marconi with wireless telegraphy, who sent the 
 Fairies, Brownies, Nymphs and Gnomes and Genii of electricity 
 and thought, to run upon the errands of men still farther over 
 wires and through the air. 
 
 Then came Bell with the telephone, and captured earth and 
 air and water, sea and sky. We rub the magic penny and the 
 genii come and go, as we will them to. 
 
 Edison illuminated the world, and he made dull matter 
 speak. What a marvelous vista opens to the spiritual eye of 
 those who think. Nothing seems impossible to those who re- 
 member Him who promised man that all things should be put 
 under his feet. These marvels God has sent to the World, 
 through a free people, in a free land. Franklin was a Free 
 Thinker in his day, and so were Morse and Field; Marconi is a 
 descendent of those vigorous mountaineers, the Waldenses, who 
 demanded and had freedom, and suffered for it when the rest 
 of the world had none. I call attention to the fact that these 
 wonderful men were all Protestants. The old Fairy Stories are 
 coming true. Una rides her lion in deed and in truth, and the 
 Fairies, Brownies, Gnomes, Nymphs and Genii still work for 
 man. 
 
 I sometimes dearly wish Ben Franklin, Samuel Morse and 
 Cyrus Field could attend a great World's Exposition and see all 
 the marvels that have grown out of Electricity, and shake hands 
 with Thomas Edison and Wm. Marconi. I wander around try- 
 ing to understand miracles, and fairyland, and wonder what 
 next; but I. cannot think any further than I see; but I wish these 
 splendid men who set these stupendous wonders at work could 
 see it all. and I know they could tell us, there is more to fol- 
 low.
 
 202 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 DOMESTIC SCIENCE AND VINEGAR. 
 
 Domestic Science is a popular and charming name these 
 days, and it has dignified the work of the women who labor in 
 house and kitchen and dairy. 
 
 The Practitioners of it have been many but there was no 
 halo around the work of women for long time. It commanded 
 no wages and was considered inconsequential beside the work 
 Of men, though it was fundamental to the whole structure of 
 society. No wonder women began to despise what was de- 
 spised, and sought to escape the never ending drudgery of cook- 
 ing, dish washing, etc. , and went where better wages in other 
 occupations more respected awaited them. Domestic Science 
 invests the woman's work in house and kitchen with a. certain 
 clignity. There is a fascination to the young in knowing the 
 reason why for the common things about them. I think there 
 is a fascination in it too. If I had children I'd run classes in 
 my own kitchen and house and lead my youngsters to be exper- 
 imenters. I have been practicing a little myself. In a Vine- 
 gar jug I found a bit of Vinegar plant called "Mother", and I 
 mixed some strained honey that was old, with water, and strained 
 it again put it into a large clear glass jar, turned the vinegar 
 plant into it and set it on my kitchen table so I could watch it. 
 How that Vinegar plant did grow! I started other plants and 
 soon I had a lot of fine Vinegar coming on. I washed all the 
 kettles in which I canned fruit or made preserves with clean 
 soft water, strained it and put a little of the plant from my 
 first stock in it in bottles, and in every jar it grows and I have 
 much more Vinegar than I can use, and the honey Vinegar I 
 find is a most delicious drink if diluted with water and sweet- 
 ened. The Grape and Blackberry sweetening makes pretty red 
 Vinegar. The honey Vinegar is like a Topaz in color, and all 
 the children who see my Vinegar plant admire and wonder at 
 the story of the "Mother" or Vinegar plant. Sometimes I 
 teach them how to make Vinegar and give them a bottle full 
 of sweetened water and a piece of the plant for a starter. This 
 is on the domestic science line and I admire and wonder and en- 
 joy and use and I drink the home product of my plant, and I
 
 A LOVE STORY 203 
 
 save some mony too. for I have no Vinegar to buy. From my 
 Ancestors I learned economy; I have seen apple parings and the 
 washing of the molasses jug and barrel, all turned into the use- 
 ful product Vinegar. 
 
 Let us fascinate ourselves with the Science, that underlies 
 the domestic life of country and town, and teach the youngsters 
 to honor and love the labor of the kitchen and the house and go 
 into the Chemistry of the kitchen and the house too, and into 
 the Chemistry of Vinegar making, as well as the Chemistry 
 of foods and of other things.
 
 204 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE NUDE IN ART. 
 
 A dear friend once said to me "The strongest reason in my 
 mind for objecting to the nude in art lies in the fact that men 
 and women are not at their ease together, in nude Art exhibits". 
 
 There is a class of physical culturists who declare that the 
 objection to nudity is immaterial, and to cure it, children should 
 be cultured to run together nude till puberty at least; Kraft 
 Ebbing's terrible book shows these creatures know nothing 
 morally. The Congo and the African negro, along with 
 Cannibals, Patagonias and some Indians run naked, together, 
 but as to morals and chastity they are absolutely ignorant, and 
 women are bought and sold, killed, given away, and used as beasts 
 of burden by the men who own them. People do not wish to sink 
 to the level of the savages as to nudity. The debased of all 
 peoples from the earliest times till now, cultured nakedness of 
 the body, from the Esquimo to the Congo negro. It is said that 
 when Adam and Eve found they had no garments on they made 
 haste to get some though they were only leaves at first. 
 
 When Noah got drunk on pure wine from his own vineyard, 
 it is said his son found him, his naked body exposed, and told 
 two other brothers, who at once put a mantle on their shoulders 
 and walking backward covered their father's shame. Noah is 
 said to have cursed his son on that occasion, and African slav- 
 ery, it is said, begun then. The sons who covered their father's 
 nakedness received a blessing. There is a moral to this story, 
 though some may doubt it. Nudity is not a desirable nor safe 
 proposition. Many who claim to be artists do not put a leaf even^ 
 on nakedness, and yet they want all the world to admire their 
 work. It seems a perversion of natural law. An attempt not 
 long ago to foist a drunken, naked dancing bachantte upon a 
 public library as a work of Art, and creatures half beast, half 
 man, nude, to be gazed upon as "artistic," shows how perverted 
 many artists and others have become, and how determined they 
 are to force their evil productions on others. 
 
 The artistic class which howls the loudest that nude art is 
 pure, is a licentious class. Du Maurier painted the ateliers not 
 only of Paris but of the whole civilized world in Trilby. ' 'Little 
 Billie" voiced the sentiment of an outraged decency in civilized
 
 A LOVE STORY 205 
 
 man when he cursed and swore and kicked things about after 
 he saw poor, motherless Trilby posing in the "Altogether", and 
 poor Trilby smirched by her long atelier and artistic associations 
 had in her yet a sense of decency and modesty, that awoke and 
 purified her, when she saw the pity and shame and wrath in 
 "Little Billies's" face. She dropped atelier life and all it 
 meant, and went to earn a poor living at the wash tub. 
 
 The cry of "To the pure all things are pure" is a specious 
 one. I have asked many "What is the rest of that quotation", 
 but no one replies. The whole of it is, ' 'To the pure all things 
 are pure, but when the mind and conscience is defiled, nothing 
 is pure". It is a dangerous thing to possess a mind and con- 
 science defiled. Liberties with the nude result in degradation 
 of the sense of decency. "Pure by impure is not seen" says 
 one. This cry is too often raised by those who have little or no 
 sense of purity. We can face anything no matter how shocking 
 if necessity demands it. Witness the hard and dreadful things 
 that nurses have to see and do, and that people face in times of 
 sickness, of accident or great disasters by fire and flood. To 
 view the real nude thus does not corrupt; fear and pain and an- 
 guish and death sanctify it and there is no corruption in it. To 
 look upon the nude with pleasure is forbidden in the nature of 
 things, and the eyes of all who do it, are, like those of 
 "Peeping Tom" put out. The result is evil and evil only. 
 Witness the nudities indulged in by savage women, and harlots. 
 The Salome dances, with a few inches of chiffon and some 
 pieces of colored glass, the only clothing on shameless women; 
 the absolute nudities in some places of Amusement, a step or 
 two lower, before a company composed of male and female 
 bawds; the Saturnalias of Greece and Rome reproduced in mod- 
 ern times. The Saturnalia of the harlot, and the harlots house, 
 is set upon the stage to entertain the cultured and decent 
 classes! in the name of Art! The young man and woman be- 
 come saturated with these vice studies in the name of Art and 
 Culture, and develop in themselves the devils of indecency and 
 unchastity, and the nudities they pattern after lead them down- 
 ward to the limbo of moral obliquity and lost lives. 
 
 The Romans, so cultivated, so educated, such seekers after 
 the true and beautiful in Art, and great advocators and expon-
 
 206 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 ents of the nude in art and life were Pagans. Their young 
 of both sexes were instructed in indecency because it was 
 thought to be natural. The girls were set upon the knees of 
 the great God Priapus, and instructed in indecency and lust. 
 The temples to indecency surpassed all others in numbers and 
 beauty. The Venus of Indecency had more temples than any 
 other goddess; indecent sculpture was everywhere found as in 
 India to-day. The marked difference between Paganism and 
 Christianity was the emphasis Christianity laid upon chastity, 
 and its corollary the clothing of the body. Among Christian 
 women in holy orders, the body in a sense is elevated, and a 
 woman in a habit, is safe anywhere. The Salvation Army las- 
 sies go where they will. The women who exposes her body 
 naked or in whole, is safe nowhere; she excites lust, not 
 chastity; the devils of destruction trail her, and too often get 
 her. 
 
 The Pagan Romans so hated the Christians for rebuking 
 nakedness of the body, and for their teaching of chastity and 
 the wearing of chaste clothing, that Roman Magistrates de- 
 lighted to order Christian women exposed nude, to the gaze of a 
 brutal populace. The good Theodora, a widow, said to the Mag- 
 istrate who ordered her to be hung up naked before the mob, 
 "Art thou not ashamed to expose me, when by so doing thou 
 exposest thy own wife and mother who are women"? Young 
 Christian girls were stripped of their garments and given nude 
 to the soldiers. The history of the Church is full of miracles 
 wrought to protect them. Of St. Agnes it is said her long soft 
 hair grew in a moment like a veil and covered her, and the sol- 
 diers feared to touch her. Pagan Roman's men and women, 
 used the b#th together, nude. 
 
 Sinkewitz in Quo Vadis, paints the status of artistic and 
 cultured Rome in the saturnalian feasts, held by the most cul- 
 tured and highest classes, where men and women tore off their 
 garments and indulged in the grossest immoralities. Saturna- 
 lian orgies as gross in these later days in America put our peo- 
 ple to shame, and debauch our children and youth. 
 
 The nude in Art is a revival of the Pagan and animal in 
 man and all that is implied by that. An Artist once made a 
 statue of Abraham Lincoln sans clothing. It was shocking,
 
 A LOVE STORY 207 
 
 and is not known. I read of an Artist who said he would never 
 again make a statue of a man with garments on! Such ugly 
 things as are made and called Art! Monsters, with abnormal 
 muscles, posed in all sorts of ridiculous attitudes; men more like 
 gorillas than human 'beings; women like bawds and posed like 
 silly fools, both nude; and we are called upon to be ravished 
 with this stuff called Art! 
 
 Let us tell the truth and ridicule such things and denounce 
 them, and cultivate the Christian sense of decency and chastity, 
 teach it to our youth, instead of the Pagan sense of Nudity and 
 Indecency. The Romans where did their Art take them? To 
 destruction. It was a destroyer this Nude in Art and the 
 Romans who worshipped it are no more, nor will any Nation 
 endure that walks that way. The Nudities hung upon our great 
 Exposition walls are debasing and ought to be denounced and 
 removed. I love the clean sense of the Country folk who do 
 denounce immorality and teach their children to clothe the body, 
 even if the artistic and cultured classes do poke fun at them. 
 They are clean and decent, and they know such things are 
 neither. The Nude in Art is not intended to uplift. It is 
 sensual, and demands a sensual environment, and creates sen- 
 suality, and drags like the undertow of the sea, on those who 
 follow it as Art or otherwise, to destruction.
 
 203 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE FERN BEDS, AND SHRUBS AND FLOWERS. 
 
 I watch with sharp eyes the woodsy places, the thickets 
 and the boggy bottom spots, and the ravines, for ferns. I have 
 gathered all sorts from the mammoth varieties to the little 
 Specis, Brakes, Pteris, Maiden Hair, Evergreen varieties, and 
 many I do not know and have not time to learn the names of. 
 I plant them close about my house in shady places most of them, 
 though two or three I know are fond of sunlight; I dug them 
 out of sunny places with my tile spade, with much tugging at 
 the earth which I stirred for the first time since the world 
 began. I dug some in the roots of hazels, and other brush, en- 
 tangled with the fern roots. I see them every day and feed my 
 sense of beauty and adorn my house. I am glad when I find a 
 new variety. * 
 
 If the farmer would fence his yard to keep the chickens 
 out with their sharp claws, and investigating minds, the women 
 and children could have plants and ferns, and study and enjoy 
 the beautiful things of Nature, and grow thus in the knowledge 
 of real things, and of the laws that govern them. 
 
 I had an Uncle who, when a baby three years old, would 
 get out of bed like a little cherub and in his "nightie" wander 
 up and down the garden walks smelling at the flowers; and every 
 child might have that privelege and give its Mother respite for 
 a time.. The farmer's children often leave the farm and wand- 
 er off because no means is taken to bring some beauty into 
 their lives. My fern beds help to tie me to the farm. I never 
 smell a Calacanthus but I remember my maternal Grand- 
 mother's garden, and I plant that shrub in my garden as, to her 
 memory how good it smells with its big brown buds and to the 
 big old plant that stood so near the pump and that was loaded 
 every year with brown strawberry scented blossoms. My Fath- 
 er's Mother lives forever to me, in every Pansy, Petunia and 
 Mignonette I see or smell, and the Portulaccas are in evidence of 
 her whenever I look into their pretty faces. I always see my 
 Grandmothers amid the flowers. I see my Mother amid flowers 
 and fruits. I see my Father in his garden among his flowers. 
 Their memories are sweet with lovely growing things and good, 
 and so the ferns and shrubs and flowers I love and want, and I
 
 A LOVE STORY 209 
 
 plant them close to my house walls where they give me a wel- 
 come every year. I want all within to see and love them too. 
 The Tulip beds are gay so early in the Spring with gorgeous 
 blooms of every hue, and so many are fragrant. I found out 
 the peacocks loved gay colors by my big tulip bed, for it is there 
 they love to walk and gaze about as if the tulips were their kin. 
 Tulips among flowers are the richest in varied hues, as the 
 peacocks are among the birds. 
 
 THE VIOLET. 
 
 The violet's sweet perfume floods all the air, 
 
 And wakes anew within my soul, 
 
 Dear Memories profound that make* me glad. 
 
 It asks so little and it gives so much; 
 
 It quickens me with dreams I do not understand; 
 
 My thoughts fly far I know not where 
 
 Thy tiny Censer swings, 
 
 And I a moments space am satisfied.
 
 210 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE CELLAR, AND THE CHICKEN HOUSE IN THE HILLS. 
 
 I had meant to raise incubator chickens, so we dug in a hill 
 at the rear of the houses, excavating about four feet. We used 
 dynamite as the earth was hard and sometimes frozen. It was 
 dry that winter so we dug a pit about 12x16 ft, and then we 
 cut logs and dragged in and piled them up log house fashion till 
 the cellar was about 10x7 in height. This we roofed with poles 
 cut on the place, and on top of this we spread corn fodder thick, 
 then on top of that a bed of leaves, and on top of that and 
 around the house outside we piled the dry earth we took out of 
 the excavation; on top of this we put 2x4 stringers and on that 
 boards and then tar paper which was treated to a heavy coat of 
 coal tar. I never had time to start the incubator business, but 
 the house in the hill is dry and wholesome. It is like a Texas 
 dug out,and I had them in my mind when we built it, for I've 
 seen them when in the Panhandle. We can use this for milk in 
 summer, and in the coldest weather our potatoes and canned 
 fruits and bulbs and plants are entirely safe. All that is needed 
 to it is to tar the roof every year and it will last indefinitely. 
 
 We had a sun house with glass attached for a chicken 
 brooder, but we did not use it except for a lot of turkeys that 
 came out when it was cold in the Spring. We built a chicken 
 house in an adjoining hill and the eggs do not freeze in it, 
 though it is not so close as the other, except at the bottom. 
 We have a sun house attached to this, where the early hatched 
 chickens are always kept warm and comfy. Eggs never freeze 
 in this house and the chickens love it in winter. I am going to 
 build me a hospital for sick or ailing things on my farm as soon 
 as I can get to it. It shall face the South and East for sun, and 
 I shall fix for a fire in it, if I wish one. Heat is life, and will re- 
 lieve many an ailing creatures' pains, and some ones' pocket 
 and feelings too. I see apples and potatoes and turnips buried 
 in many places and the women have no good summer place for 
 milk, and if the farmer would "busy himself" a little, he could 
 have a good cellar as I have in a bank or hillside. Ice houses 
 can be built the same way.
 
 A LOVE STORY 211 
 
 HUNTERS. 
 
 ' 'A Southerly wind and a cloudly sky proclaims it a hunting 
 morning", and men and hounds and Lords and Ladies are off 
 after Mr. Fox; but our way it is squirrels and rabbits and quail 
 and prairie chicken, woodchuck, snipe, and coon and possum 
 and foxes the hunters want. And they wish to come upon our 
 farms to shoot and trap and hunt them. 
 
 In Illinois, as in most States now, the game laws protect 
 wild things except at stated seasons, but we farmers have to 
 look out for ourselves. The State allows boys and men to get a 
 license to hunt by paying $1. Hunters outside the state are 
 now subjected to such heavy license fees that few come into 
 the state, and they are obliged to get premission to hunt on 
 the farmers' land and pay for that, or risk prosecution as tres- 
 passers now. As a rule farmers do not permit hunters on their 
 places; stock is often shot and killed and farm poultry is fre- 
 quently shot. There is danger to the farmer too, from fire 
 catching and taking houses, fences and stacks. I know a man 
 who was shot by a hunter on his own land; another's horse was 
 killed in the pasture field; cattle are peppered with bird shot. 
 Sixteen year old boys are not safe on the farms as hunters. We 
 feed a covey of quail at our stacks all winter, knowing it will 
 pay us back by the bugs and worms it eats when summer comes, 
 when along comes a hunter and destroys our feathered friends 
 at one volley. 
 
 On my 'farm three boys came from a little village near 
 by and began to shoot; some of the women were berrying and 
 had to go in, the whistle and the hum of bullets warned them 
 it was dangerous to stay. I went out and saw the three lads ; 
 I knew their dog and what place it came from, but did not 
 know them so far off; but they saw me and took to a bottom 
 corn field and I could not follow. Often they came so near my 
 buildings the dogs made a great fuss when they fired; they 
 seemed to understand hunting was not premitted, I've often 
 gone out and raised a wild "halloo" at the top of my voice and 
 hunters would clear out. I find empty shells in many places, 
 so I know the hunters break the law, for I have made notice to 
 trespassers to keep off, as do almost all the farmers now a days.
 
 212 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 We need a law saying that when a person takes out a license 
 to hunt, he shall also file a statement where he is going to hunt, 
 otherwise the state licenses men and boys to steal, for it is a 
 very few hunters who own a foot of ground. This would stop 
 the hunting business by persons who are reckless, and the kill- 
 ing of the farmer's stock and the scaring of them by dogs and 
 shooting, and sometimes the killing of young stock by hunters 
 dogs. No farmer would have to keep a horse saddled to chase 
 the hunters off his premises in the hunting seasons as some 
 must do to, keep them from infesting their property. The farm- 
 ers, now the land is so closely settled and cleared, need and 
 "ought to demand a law of this sort to be protected from hunt- 
 ers. I am often asked to let hunters come upon my land to hunt 
 rabbits. I'd like to get rid of the rabbits but a hunter, if he 
 sees game, will shoot he can't help it; so I say "No" and tell 
 why. Automobilists will speed; hunters will shoot; the farmer 
 must look out for himself. 
 
 Bobby Barclay, an old Irish gentleman of Effingham County, 
 and a farmer, came to see me one day and asked that I draw 
 a petition to the Legislature of Illinois asking for a law to pro- 
 tect quail and prairie chickens. "Dom it, Mis Kepley" said 
 he, "I ain't wit yez on pro'bition, but I'm wit yez on the 
 burrds". I was at that time head of an Audubon Society for 
 children. He spoke of the quails. "Ah" said he "the purty 
 things, I never et one of 'em in me life. I hate to see 'em killed". 
 He said many beautiful things of the quail, and he obtained the 
 petition and got two hundred names to it. It went to our Sen- 
 ator at that Session, and a law was passed, finally, that pro- 
 tected prairie chicken and quail in Illinois for five years, and 
 after that limited the time of hunting and killing. "Bobby" 
 dearly loved the " OuldSod". On St. Patrick's day he proudly 
 wore a spray of real shamrock on his coat; and he loved the 
 "burrds, the purty things", and could not bear to see them 
 killed, and he never ate one in his life. 
 
 Bobby Barclay was born in Ireland; he loved the land of 
 his adoption, and the land of the shamrock with as fervent an 
 affection as he gave the birds. He was a farmer too, and only 
 left the farm when the beloved wife of his youth passed away 
 and left him childless at the cold hearthstone of his home. His
 
 A LOVE STORY 213 
 
 love for the birds, "the purty things", grew into a law that 
 protected them, and their friend the farmer. I think Robert 
 Barclay never hunted; and now in the "home of the soul", he 
 has no doubt met the old wife he loved, and knows the why of 
 many things his earth life did not teach him and that his love 
 for the birds opened to him.
 
 214 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 VIVISECTION. 
 
 "The merciful man is merciful to his beast". 
 
 " Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy". 
 
 "Thou shalt not kill". -The Bible. 
 
 ' ' The Gods are just and of our pleasant vices make instru- 
 ments to plague us. The dark and vicious place where thee he 
 got, cost him his eyes". King Lear. 
 
 Vivisection is the name given to surgical experiments upon 
 dumb animals, and upon men, in the name of Science. The 
 real object of vivisection is to seek for such knowledge as may 
 crop up out of experiments. Vivisectionists are rot agreed upon 
 the results of experiments they make, and they also arrive at 
 conflicting conclusions with their cruel experiments upon ani- 
 mals. It was these everlasting contradictions that led Sir 
 Michael Foster to say in 1895 before a Pharmaceutical Society 
 in Great Britain, " The very spirit of a scientific man is to be- 
 lieve his brother is a liar, and that his own duty is to prove it". 
 
 Dr. Hughlings Jackson quoted in the British Medical 
 Journal Oct. 14th, 1911, as the greatest Scientific Clinician, never 
 vivisected. He drew his conclusions from the facts the Hos- 
 pital wards presented him, and from post mortems. 
 
 A late writer Dr. Alfred, T. Scholfield says, "Another fac- 
 tor which obliterates the man is specialism. It is easy, as one 
 listens to a paper at a medical society, to forget that man as 
 such exists; while it is perfectly obvious that whole life ap- 
 parently centers around the appendix, or the posterio; nares". 
 
 To the Vivisectionists the dumb beasts exist as a means 
 for experimentation. Man exists as a subject to be operated 
 on. Men have become victims of the Surgeons who vivisect. 
 This is the age of a cruel, wicked wrongful system of surgery, 
 affecting the dumb brutes and man through vivisection. 
 
 There is a legitimate field for surgery, but it is not the field 
 of Vivisection. 
 
 At the great International meeting of Surgeons in Bulgaria 
 not long since, three sections handled Appendicitis. The first 
 said always operate; the second said under certain conditions;
 
 A LOVE STORY 215 
 
 the third said not at all, and they showed the highest percen- 
 tage of recoveries. Yet the Vivisectionists go on cutting for 
 appendicitis and the more operations the more appendicitis. I 
 read of a man who had a lot of muslin strips on which he had 
 printed in indelible ink ' 'My appendix has been cut out". These 
 he had sewed on all his undershirts over the region of the ap- 
 pendix. He said he was afraid he might faint and before he 
 came to his senses, his appendix would be cut out. I heard of 
 another who had the same legend tatooed on his abdomen. That 
 was before laws were passed requiring surgeons to get the con- 
 sent of the subject before an operation. 
 
 The poor dumb creatures are tortured in all sorts of horri- 
 ble ways with the specious excuse that man is to be benefited 
 thereby, and those who practice this black art call themselves 
 Surgeons. So fierce is their desire to "operate" that laws have 
 had to be passed to restain them from operating ' 'willy nilly' ' 
 on everybody in sight. There has grown up an idea among 
 young men who desire to be medics, that the name and game, 
 go with the knife, and they nearly all aspire to be Surgeons. 
 The General Practitioner of Medicine bids fair to disappear and 
 yet he is the man we need most of all, for he studies man as a 
 whole. 
 
 Then there are the large fees attached to operations on the 
 human body. Yes, the lust of gold is in it, as well as the lust 
 for fame; as a skilful operator. 
 
 All over the world today there are larbratories and ateliers, 
 where the business of tormenting the dumb domestic animals, 
 dogs, cats, rabbits, guinea pigs, horses and monkeys, is prac- 
 ticed by vivisection, and Charity Hospitals where the helpless 
 sick poor are, unknowingly to themselves operated on. Ani- 
 mals and men, are subjected to the most horrible tortures in the 
 name of Science. No man or women can be well if his organs 
 are -cut out. "There is too much interference with the vital 
 processes" say those who are versed. I know of two women 
 from whom all the organs common to a woman have been cut 
 out. They are virtually invalids, and have to be opened now 
 and then to relieve them; the intestines sink into the ca- 
 vity of the abdomen and they suffer continually, and that is tne 
 end of it, till death takes them. We know too that cycatrixes,
 
 216 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 frequently degenerate into cancers. Do the Vivisectionists 
 know this? If not, why? Men and women begin to demand 
 the murder of the old, the insane, the afflicted of all diseases 
 called incurable, as a consequence of the disregard of life be- 
 gotten by vivisection. 
 
 The laity, if they find out about these awful tortures of the 
 helpless, are placated and deceived by being told that the end 
 and object of it all is to save human life. This is the one rock 
 upon which the Anti Vivisectionists run in their thankless ef- 
 forts to bring the law of God and man to bear upon this terri- 
 ble brutalizing and demoralizing business miscalled Science. 
 Many good people consent to it, because they believe these 
 wicked experiments do save life. 
 
 If a great Medical man calls his fellow Medics "liars", the 
 laity outside may take it that there is some truth in the state- 
 ment. 
 
 It is said the four legged animals, are not like the two leg- 
 ged animal, man; the natural processes in the man and brute 
 are not alike; so at the best the Vivisectionists offer us clumsy 
 and doubtful results from their experiments. The brains, the 
 hearts, the stomachs of animals, are not like those of man, nor 
 is the mind of the man, and the mind of the brute the same; 
 hence, the Vivisectionists give us results that are empirical. 
 They dispute and contradict each other in the same line of ex- 
 periments. This is well known to Vivisectionists. They now 
 make demands continually for human victims, demanding all 
 convicts shall be turned over to them for experimentation and 
 whenever they have a chance, they operate on human beings 
 in Charity Hospitals without law. In the Cook County, 111. , Hos- 
 pital not long ago the Superintendent in charge made complaint. 
 He said operations were performed on men and women when 
 it was known these operations would kill them; before the breath 
 was out of some, they were disemboweled by the Vivisectors 
 attached to the hospital. A certain German Vivisectionist of 
 note was asked why he performed doubtful and dangerous oper- 
 ations on babies at a Charity Maternity Hospital, and why he 
 did not use calves for his experiments. "Why", said he "babies 
 are cheaper". Of a Boston Vivisector of note, I read that he 
 severed the spinal cords of fifty babies in a charity hospital.
 
 A LOVE STORY 217 
 
 I do not know what reply he made when enquired of concern- 
 ing it, or if he was ever enquired of. The papers and magazines 
 were not long ago full of the work of a gang of Vivi sectors who 
 inoculated a large number of children in a Charitable Hospital 
 in Philadelphia with a terrible disease of the eye. When they 
 were caught they began to lie, and said it was the fault of Sis- 
 ters who had the Home in charge. Vivisecting and lying go 
 hand in hand together, it seems. Why is it that when women 
 are run into Hospitals for appendicitis that the Ovary adjacent 
 is generally clipped out? Why are they told by the Operators 
 that it must be clipped out? Why? A wise Physician once 
 told me "Thousands of women are unsexed needlessly". Well, 
 who told them they had to be unsexed? The Viviseetors who 
 operated on them. Dr. Alfred Scholfield denounces this prac- 
 tice, and says "he considers it as bad as murder". 
 
 I knew a young woman who, after the birth of her first 
 child, was complaining, as many women do. She was informed 
 it was absolutely necessary her appendix be cut out, by the 
 Vivisector called- in; and then the ovary adjacent was cut out 
 also at the same operation. She did not improve in health, 
 and then she was told the womb and the other ovary must be 
 removed, and they were. Still her health was bad. I saw her 
 one day and said "How are you"? "Well, no better". "Why, 
 what's the matter now" ? "Well, lam told there is a tumor 
 growing in me, and it must be cut out". "For the goodness 
 sake" said I, "Where is that tumor"? "Oh in my bowels". 
 "Well" said I, "you have come home twice alive. Now if you 
 go again you will come home in a box. Go see another 
 doctor", and she did. He told her the "tumor" was a knot 
 caused by the muscles, nerves and ligaments which had been 
 cut from the organs taken from her body, and fastened togeth- 
 er. He said "You do not need an operation, and in my opinion 
 those already performed on you were unnecessary". Why was 
 she told she had to have that knot, which they themselves 
 made, taken from her bowels? did they not know, or did they 
 want a fee? 
 
 I knew a young wife who was informed by a Vivisector 
 that her child could not be born, it was her first. Another Phy- 
 sician who had been called in said "I can deliver you"; but the
 
 218 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 Vivisector was chosen. The young Mother was operated on by 
 Caesarian Section and died later in the most horrible agony; the 
 child was dead. The Vivisector announced the child could not 
 have been born, as it weighed twenty pounds, but unknown to 
 him, it had been weighed and drew the scales at twelve pounds. 
 The operator thought to add to his fame; he thought he could 
 perform that capital operation, but it failed and two dead bod- 
 ies in a box was the conclusion. Case on case could be mul- 
 tiplied; the desire for the fame, the desire fora fee comes in; 
 and Vivisectors are only men, and also men who have been cal- 
 loused in heart and mind and conscience by torturing the help- 
 less brutes. They are less safe to trust than other men. I do 
 not write here of ignoramuses, but of men who have graduated 
 from schools of good repute. Young Medics see the fame and 
 the game go with the knife and Vivisection, and the Old Gen- 
 eral Practitioner who is so needed and desirable, grows scarce, 
 and is likely to disappear I say again. 
 
 Science in Medicine treats the man as a machine, in a sense, 
 says Scholfield. The Specialists no longer take him as a whole. 
 The mind, which dominates the whole man and his healing, is 
 not considered. Science has about made an end of medical 
 Philosophy, and the Surgeon and his sharp knives and other 
 tools, and chloroform, with the trained nurse, is all in all. 
 
 Dr. Berdoe F. R. S., Miss Lind of Hageby, the Zoopholist, 
 Anti Vivisection Journals and pamplets here and in Europe and 
 the annals of the Vivisectors themselves are good to study. 
 There is an immense amount of material on hand to study 
 from. 
 
 The exhibits of tortured animals made by Anti Vivisec- 
 tionists are valuable as calling attention to and awakening peo- 
 ple to the horrors of this terrible thing that menaces life and 
 humane development for man and beast. The practice of Vi- 
 visection, I am certain, is contrary to the laws of God. In the 
 first place, those who practice Vivisection murder their own 
 hearts and consciences when they torture the dumb brutes. 
 They are absolutely callous to the horrible agonies of every sort 
 they inflict on the animals and on men. They become fasci- 
 nated with experimentation and they want the fame and the 
 gold there is in it. They .are not safe to trust with human be-
 
 A LOVE STORY 219 
 
 ings after they have completed a course in the torture cham- 
 bers of the Laboratory. They lose the power to tell the truth; 
 they become confined liars, as well as self deceivers; to instance: 
 I knew a woman who was condemned to the knife, her husband 
 was led to believe she could be cured; indeed, that was the 
 reason he consented to the operation; he spent time and money 
 galore. The woman suffered the torments of the Inferno. 
 The surgeon who operated told others at once, that she would 
 die of a recurrence of the disease, and she did; and he knew 
 all this before he operated. He was a professed Christian man 
 and had gone to foreign lands to perfect himself by the prac- 
 tice of vivisection for operations on human beings. He was a 
 liar and a thief for he did not, and could not, give value received, 
 and he knew it. He was not safe to trust. He gulled every- 
 body in the case; Yet who such cockspurs, or so jealous of honor 
 as the surgeons? 
 
 I knew a young woman who was rushed to a Hospital and 
 was prepared for, and about to be carried to the operating table, 
 for appendicitis. Her father who was away returned, unex- 
 pectedly and went quickly to the Hospital. He went to the 
 room where his daughter lay ready to be carried to the Vivisec- 
 tor. Taking her by the arm, he gave her a shake and said, 
 "Get up and go home at once". She obeyed him. She is in 
 possession of her appendix yet, and has been at work ever since. 
 
 I knew of another who was told she had a floating kidney, 
 and she was on the operating table when her Mother sent a 
 friend to be a witness of the operation. The friend was re- 
 fused admittance. She made a lot of threats and much noise. 
 The girl was taken off the operating table finally and unban- 
 daged, and she also went to work at once, and I suppose her 
 kidney still floats, as she is well. 
 
 The Vivisector, when he is finished, has as little mercy on 
 brutes and men, as a tiger has when his teeth are sunk in a 
 lamb. Many surgeons now demand to cut men and women 
 open to see if they need to be operated on, and they do most 
 senseless things, and wicked and useless things too, in the name 
 of surgery. There is growing a reckless disregard of human 
 life in this exploitation of the knife, via vivisection. When a 
 patient dies under the knife the verdict given is "Oh, he would
 
 220 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 have died anyway, it was only a question of time, it was the 
 last thing to be done", etc. The young medics are fascinated 
 and want to operate, and condone operations. A demand is 
 made that the appendix of every new born babe be cut out. 
 These Vivisectionists think they know more than God or Evo- 
 lution. Vivisection has been practiced in the public schools, in 
 biological classes, and we are obliged to ask laws to restrict these 
 murderous practices and to protect the children in our schools 
 from these awful doctrines. 
 
 When poor women are obliged to have their babi es at Ma- 
 ternity Hospitals, by what right or reason are they inoculated 
 with the sex diseases, which are incurable and which the mother 
 becomes a carrier of, not only to her own child and children 
 and family but to others; and why should babies be inoculated 
 with all sorts of loathesome diseases and used for dangerous 
 and doubtful experiments unknowing to their parents and friends; 
 and why are many inoculated with diseases that it is known 
 will kill them? It is a terrible condition of things! Vivisec- 
 tion is the fertile mother of evil things; to instance: We hold 
 human life cheap because of the murder of animals and men by 
 those who claim to be Scientists (Vivisectionists). We have 
 those who demand the murder of the old sick, insane, imbecile. 
 The young men and boys play games and kill each other, and 
 we still demand those games. People go to the Auto races and 
 Aviation meets, to get "thrills at the kill of the machines" so 
 says a wise man. 
 
 No, the Vivisectionist is an unsafe man. He breaks God's 
 laws until he becomes a Scientific Liar and commits murder of- 
 ten. He is not safe to trust with human or brute subjects. A 
 young Medic with whom I once discoursed said, ' 'What would 
 you do if you had to be operated on"? "Why" said I, "I'd just 
 die a natural death". I'd rather die, as to have my life, if a 
 thousand poor brutes had to be tormented for me. I'd feel I 
 had a right to face my Heavenly Father if I cared as much for 
 the poor brutes as He says He cares for the sparrow, and I 
 think his face would be turned away from me if I saved my life 
 by such horrible sacrifices. He has made it possible for men 
 to be well if they will. The Pagans practiced Vivisection on 
 living men and women. Vivisection is a revival of Paganism
 
 A LOVE STORY 221 
 
 in our midst. As Paganism perished, so will vivisection, ulti- 
 mately. It is coming; what is wrong always perishes in due 
 season. 
 
 Granted the Vivisectionists are right, and the human race 
 accepts their doctrines. We shall by then have degenerated 
 into a lot of devils, and we shall kill each other, if the other, 
 is in the way of what we want, like the Indian'and the Canni- 
 bal. Everybody must own it's a development backwards, and 
 not forwards, and it's not worth while that we exist at all if 
 we shall come to an end like this. 
 
 It would be well for Vivisectionists to turn the leaves of 
 the old books, and read a few items that men as Doctors, once 
 taught and believed and did in medicine, to "save human life". 
 Heavy drugging turned typhoid fever into the horrible black 
 typhus which has now disappeared, with the cessation of drug- 
 ging. The sick were calomelized till their teeth dropped out 
 and they stank. The Physician in ordinary to an English 
 King recommended the following remedies for the sick: ' 'Take 
 the flesh of a dead young man, treat it with spirits of wine and 
 salt, dry it well, triturate it thoroughly, put it in a close glass 
 jar, and then give it as a sovereign remedy in "Pestilence, Le- 
 prosy, Palsie and Gout". In the month of July catch fat over- 
 grown toads, "reduce, calcine, and distill their bodies", then 
 disolve the residue in orange water or treacle; to be used inter- 
 nally and externally for "cancer, and all sorts of poison". 
 These recipes are taken from the book of the Physician in ordi- 
 nary to the English King in 1672 and the book is dedicated to 
 the Duke of Buckingham. Also, it was declared by Medics of 
 those days that "roses growing on a manure pile were espe- 
 cially efficacious for wounds," and the earth taken "from a 
 human skull, and plants which grow on graves, had a special 
 virtue for healing diseases". The records of medicine the 
 world over were no better. The credulous nature of the physi- 
 cians who concocted and gave these remedies is matched only 
 in a more horrible way by the Vivisectionists with their tor- 
 ments of the poor brutes and of human beings by their serums 
 and knives. Sometimes I wonder if the Vivisectionists, like 
 Pasteur, all suffer from brain lesions, as Grasset said Pasteur 
 did. I must confess it seems probable to me. The bunglers
 
 222 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 who vivisect the animals and degrade themselves and injure 
 mankind, might, it seems, study the old annals of a once pop- 
 ular system of medicine, then study the thoughts of advanced 
 thinkers, their own trade of Vivisection, and move to higher 
 ground, and cease torturing men and animals. 
 
 The dog, the rabbit, the cat, and every other sort of dumb 
 creatures that lives and breathes and depend on man as friends 
 and helpers are tortured by the Vivisectionists; thousands and 
 thousands of them; the earth is full of their pitiful cries for 
 help. Especially it is true that those devoted friends of ours 
 the"dog and cat, are tormented and tortured by the Vivisection- 
 ists. Why is it the dog loves man and follows him and serves 
 him as he does? When every human soul forsakes a poor, de- 
 graded wretch, his dog, half starved maybe, looks at his mas- 
 ter with affection and starves with him, and kisses his hand. 
 And so of the cat that rids our houses of vermin, destroys the 
 rats that are said to carry the bubonic plague, and sings its grate- 
 ful song of thanks for the most meagre favor and love to the one 
 who owns it. We cannot vivisect, or allow it then, without dam- 
 aging our own psychical or spiritual natures and breaking the 
 laws of God. 
 
 Dr. A. T. Scholfield, who reviews the regular schools of 
 medicine, the "Quacks", Christian Science, Faith Healing, 
 mind cures and etc. , asserts that many organic, as well as func- 
 tional diseases are caused by the mind. He instances spasms, 
 convulsions, paralysis, heart disease, apoplexy, asthma, jaun- 
 dice, gastralgia, liver disease, dyspepsia, vomiting, purging, 
 faecal vomiting, kidney diseases, cancer, cholera, and other mal- 
 adies, and declares that they are cureable, by, the force of the 
 mind. He also asserts especially, epidemic diseases are caused 
 by the mind and cured by the mind. Paul Du Bois of Berne, in 
 his Psychic Cure of Nervous Diseases, tells of the marvellous 
 power of mind over matter. I have always heard that most 
 young Doctors think they had each disease as they studied it. 
 Small Pox broke out in a Chinese City, I read once. The Ruler 
 issued a proclamation that there was no Small Pox, and if any 
 one got it he would beheaded. There was no Small Pox after 
 that Proclamation. The Surgeon infects the public by Sugges- 
 tion. The Surgeon infects himself by auto-suggestion.
 
 A LOVE STORY 223 
 
 % 
 
 In America we run mad dog scares every year and urge 
 all who get dog bit to go to Pasteur Institutes for treatment 
 by rabies serum. And yet, Pasteur had a brain lesion before 
 he invented his serum. In England they got .rid of mad dogs 
 and hydrophobia by abolishing Pasteur Institutes by law. It is 
 known that some people developed rabies by being inoculated 
 with Pasteur's rabies serum. We ought, like England, to abol- 
 ish Pasteur laboratories and Institutes, and Vivisection experi- 
 ments everywhere to cure disease. Appendicitis would soon be 
 forgotten if there were no vivisectionists. The Denver dog 
 catcher who was bitten by dogs two thousand times ought to be 
 good authority, as well as the dog doctors who show their arms 
 covered with the scars of dog bites, and who jeer at rabies, to- 
 gether with other dog bit dog specialist. They are surely not all 
 immune. 
 
 We of the farms live too near our dogs and cats and horses 
 to tolerate the idea of Vivisection; in a rude way too, the most 
 of us reject and denounce the doctrine. We are too crude in 
 the eyes of the elect, but we live nearer Nature and the Lord 
 of all things, and we spue it out. 
 
 Vivisection is a species of diabolism. It degrades and kills 
 the hearts and consciences of those who practice it, and it leads 
 to murderous practices among men everywhere, and degener- 
 ation of every sort in mind and spirit, among Vivisectionists 
 and the laity. If we allow such murderous practices we our- 
 selves begin to think that way, and develop devilward, not 
 Godward. 
 
 There will come a day when Vivisection must end, and 
 we shall think of its horrors and mistakes with pain and shame.
 
 224 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 NURSES AND NUNS. 
 
 In these days when we are mad on vivisection, and when 
 surgical operations for experiment and exploitation are the 
 vogue, the Surgeons get great names and large fees. The good 
 old fashioned, faithful Practitioner is likely to disappear because 
 this surgical craze, with its resultant fame and gain, has in- 
 fected the 'young medics. The whole system would collapse 
 utterly were it not for the women who, as nurses, after the 
 surgeons have mutilated and cut and experimented, step in to 
 take the poor remnant of flesh and life that is left, and care for 
 it and nurture it, and fetch it through to living if it is possible. I 
 have seen the backs of nurses bent, from hanging day and night 
 over patients who shrieked in agony from their sufferings; and 
 the nurses' life is a short one usually. Not one of these poor 
 victims of the knife could live were it not for the faithful 
 women who bathe and bind, and watch and wait with every 
 sense alert, the little life left by the surgeon's knife. Vivisection, 
 modern surgery so called, would end if the women nurses sai d 
 the word and refused to nurse such cases. 
 
 It is a sad commentary on the arrogance of the surgeons. 
 Men as a class will not, and cannot nurse. They cannot be 
 trusted, and they have not the tender sympathy, the gentle 
 hands, the good hearts and the good consciences the powerful 
 minds that makes women nurses worth all. The Surgeon gets 
 the big fee and the big name. The woman she is the means 
 of the patient's salvation, but she is a nurse, and has hardly a 
 name, Yet she holds the great issues of the case in her hands 
 life and death. If she were careless or failed in any particu- 
 lar, the patient must die, The nurses training is of the most 
 rigid; their pay is poor, or nothing for a long time. They are 
 often hired out at big wages during their novitiate, and many 
 break down in health; and for years they are granted a pittance 
 for their hard work. They are often worked so unmercifully 
 and out of reason, that the health of some is permanently im- 
 paired. They are obliged to do the most disgusting tasks, yet 
 many hold on and save the lives of the Surgeons victims. 
 
 Not a patient operated on could recover if it were not for 
 the women nurses who nurse. The Surgeon cuts and kills, the
 
 A LOVE STORY 225 
 
 Nurses nurture and save life. Yet who hears of the great 
 nurse or nurses who do so much? Laudation goes to those who 
 cut and kill; the nurse is considered the servant of the Surgeon 
 and she is expected to be duly humble. He gets the big pay; 
 she, the little. Yet it is she who saves the patient after all. If 
 nurses were trained to care for the sick, the dangerous opera- 
 tions would cease largely, they would have to, and surgery 
 would stay in its legitimate field instead of exploiting itself at 
 the expense of human life. When men called Surgeons demand 
 the right to cut into men and women to see what ails them, a 
 halt ought to be called, and nurses be called to care for the sick t 
 to heal them, instead of becoming life savers at surgical oper- 
 ations. How women can consent to help at a business that de- 
 mands terrible torments of the dumb animals, and that practic- 
 es it on human beings when possible, is a problem to me. No 
 class of women is so in sympathy with Surgeons, as the women 
 nurses they have been trained for their work. They are infected 
 with the doctrine that vivisection saves life. The Nurses and 
 Nuns can stop vivisection, who care for the surgeon's subjects; 
 they can stop the wholesale practice of mutilating human beings. 
 They need to be shown the horrors and the evils in every surgical 
 case, for in their hands are the issues of life and death, and 
 not in the hands of the Surgeon.
 
 226 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE MIDWIFE AND THE MAN. 
 
 ' 'Dinah Shadd was away attending to a major's lady, who 
 preferred Dinah without a diploma to anybody else with a hund- 
 red." Kipling. 
 
 The Midwife was an Institution once. She it was who, 
 among savages, and ancient peoples, ushered and still ushers 
 the child into life. Among Oriental people she is the only ac- 
 coucher, as she is today among the humbler peoples of the world. 
 She was the faithful and safe attendant of the pioneer women 
 of America, and among our emigrant people heretofore and now: 
 and it is only of late, she has been crowded out. She was a 
 person of importance and honorable, and played many a large 
 part in the field of life. When the Egyptian King decreed 
 death to all male children of the Israelites, and called the Mid- 
 wives of this ancient people before him, and ordered them to de- 
 stroy all the male children at birth, they cheerfully and instant- 
 ly lied, saying the Israelitish women did not^need their services. 
 They risked death by so doing, but thus saved the lives of the 
 male issue of their people, and made it possible for Moses to 
 come to the delivery of the Israelites from Egypt. The major 
 part of the peoples of the earth who have been born from the 
 beginning of time, until within the past fifty or seventy-five 
 years, have been ushered into the world at the hands of the 
 Midwives. These honorable women were without exception, no 
 doubt women who had homes and children of their own; they 
 knew all about child bearing by personal experience. That they 
 were a success is evidenced by the fact, that with the ending of 
 their vocation among civilized and cultured people so called, 
 the birth rate begins to decline and women became more'and more 
 chronic invalids, thousands of them, and go more and more into 
 the Surgeon's hands after childbirth for operations, and also for 
 diseases consequent. I have heard Midwives who had attained 
 great age say they had never lost a child, of the hundreds they 
 brought into life, and it was a rare thing for a woman to perish 
 at childbirth, with them. It seems the natural way for a 
 woman to be attended in her travail by a woman. But the 
 Midwife finally ran up against a man, and this man had a bal-
 
 A LOVE STORY 227 
 
 lot and went to legislatures, and had laws passed which finally 
 robbed the woman who had no ballot, of her natural attendant 
 at the birth hour, and the Midwife has virtually passed, in this 
 Country, except in cases where some woman in a family or in a 
 neighborhood is on hand, before a Doctor can get in, and all is over 
 and the Mother and babe are safe and comfortable, and nobody 
 bothers, and a gift is all the accouchise gets in return; she dares 
 not charge a fee; or she will be prosecuted by a man made law. 
 Yes, the Midwife ran up against a man. He is called "Doctor" 
 and she is out, and so is the woman who bears children. 
 
 In Illinois it was not until the year 1871-72 that women 
 were allowed to practice the learned professions and this in- 
 cluded women Doctors. The Midwife was not supposed to be- 
 long to the learned professions. Her pet name of "Granny" 
 signified as much. 
 
 With the passing of the Midwife came the era of "female 
 diseases" and surgical operations for injuries, lacerations, etc, 
 at the birth hour. The Theory of quick deliveries now came 
 into vogue by man accouchers; many of them had no time to 
 ""fool away" on the slow process of a woman in labor, and the 
 bringing of the child into the world by forceps and chloroform 
 became the fashion; and still born children and women whose im- 
 perative need is the surgeon, arrived with this Theory, and at 
 present the outlook is serious. Childbirth, invested with all 
 these horrors, and the chance of death at the end, has so 
 alarmed women that the birth rate is growing beautifully less, 
 to the scandal of some agitated gentleman and the horror of oth- 
 ers. The large fees that accompany the birth of many child- 
 ren, alarm would-be fathers, as well as the horrors of the birth 
 chamber. Strange to say, the germ diseases did not thrive so 
 well under the care of the "grannys" who presided at the ad- 
 vent of the child, as they do now a days with all the antiseptics 
 and science, and trained nurses, etc., at hand. The Medical 
 profession was the most devout opponent of women medics or 
 doctors, as well as of midwives, The learned woman, after 
 every effort made to prevent her, and in spite of opposition and 
 insults by some Professors and students in some Medical 
 Schools, has at last gained and holds her ground, but she is in a 
 minority; but the Midwife, when the Medical Profession has got
 
 228 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 foothold, is pushed off the earth, and is now only found where 
 women bring forth their young normally and plentifully, among 
 the common people and foreigners, as in the old days. The 
 Mormons have a school of Midwifery and their women are at- 
 tended by the Midwife as of yore, and the population rapidly in- 
 creases, and their women do not need the care of surgeons as 
 the women of the polite, refined (?) world do. 
 
 The new Doctor has no time to wait for natural births as a 
 rule, hence chloroform, and the foreceps, and the consequent 
 need of surgical operations. Men are accountable for the birth 
 of children as well as women. Alas, that the Midwife should 
 be pushed off the stage of action by a man.
 
 A LOVE STORY 229 
 
 THE HIGHEST ALTITUDE. 
 
 One who measures himself by himself has a poor model. One 
 who measures himself or herself by others, has a better meas- 
 ure, but the one great mountain top for all to reach, and 
 measure up is God. That is the Absolute Perfection we need 
 to reach after. In that Ideal is contained the best, the highest, 
 the sweetest one can concieve of. While we cannot yet expect 
 to attain this high altitude fully, we can rise to our best, and 
 we can know what Paul means when he says, ' 'Now are we 
 Sons of God". In an ecstacy he exclaims, "We shall judge 
 Angels"; just as old David sang long before, "God made man 
 a little lower than the Angels, crowned him with glory and 
 honor, and put all things under his feet." Jesus knew it all 
 and he said, "I and my Father are one" and he admonished his 
 disciples to be at one with God even as he was. "-I go to my 
 Father and your Father". In Jesus we see the God likeness 
 as it ought to be seen in every man and woman. Jesus shows 
 us the possibility of this high altitude for man, and its ex- 
 emplification in himself, and also makes plain the means where- 
 by we can attain it. 
 
 Once upon a time in Effingham County I stirred up our 
 Board of Supervisors on account of the wretchedness of our 
 Poor House, and the miserable condition of its inmates. I 
 found by this task that the system of salvation, according to 
 Jesus, hinges upon the care of the poor and wretched in jails, 
 prisons, poor-houses and hospitals; and the Last Judgement we 
 have heard so much about hangs upon the care we take of, and 
 the love we feel for, those unhappy and wretched ones; to stoop 
 to them, lifts up the God ideal in us and makes us like unto the 
 Absolute Perfection we call by the name of God. We do not 
 need a man-made Creed. 
 
 I would that some painter would take for his theme 
 ' 'When the Son of Man shall come in all his glory and all the 
 holy Angels with him, and judge men, each one shall be tried 
 by his treatment of the debased and suffering of earth". 
 
 God makes it easy for us to love and serve him; the means 
 is at hand, and with the All Perfect, as our model we shall rise 
 Godward in the scale of being. Jesus went barefoot. He said
 
 230 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 the foxes had holes, and the birds their nests, but He had no 
 place to lay his head. But he is God personified to us, for we 
 know nothing higher then he taught us. He rose to the heights 
 of God; he led men to the same great altitude of perfection. 
 He is the beautiful Exemplar of God to man, and the wretched 
 and debased he loved and ministered to, and we love and follow 
 him and measure to the God likeness in Him. 
 
 Not myself, not another be my measure of the Highest 
 Altitude. Let us follow God as Jesus did, and the God likeness 
 must grow in men; the strong will no longer tempt and destroy 
 the weak. 
 
 "For life shall on and upward go 
 
 The eternal steps of progress beat 
 
 To that great anthem strong and slow 
 
 Which God repeats". -Whittier.
 
 A LOVE STORY 231 
 
 THE HOLY CHILD. 
 
 TEMPLE CHILDREN. 
 
 ' 'Holy Mary Mother of God, Blessed be the Fruit of Thy 
 Womb Jesus." 
 
 ' 'Blessed art Thou among Women, and blessed is the Fruit 
 of Thy Womb Jesus." The Hail Mary. 
 
 "And the Angel answered and said unto her The Holy 
 Ghost shall come upon Thee. The power of the highest shall over- 
 shadow thee, and therefore also, that Holy thing which shall 
 be born of thee shall be called the Son of God". The Bible 
 (Luke 2) 
 
 "And yet we have seen she, (the Queen Bee) is not sterile, 
 Virgin though she be. Then confronts us here the great mystery 
 or precaution of Nature; the Virgin Bee is still able to lay. 
 When we consider these problems, more especially those of genera- 
 tion, the marvellous and the unexpected confront us". Maeter- 
 linck. 
 
 Man was born of the earth according to some scientists. 
 Women is a higher creation as she was born of man they say. 
 She ought in the nature of things have been wiser than he, and 
 she truly was as the history of the first woman. Eve, demon- 
 strates. 
 
 There is one thing about which the human race revolves, 
 upon which it must depend The Child. 
 
 One child only of the human race is called Holy. The re- 
 mainder of the little children of the earth from the beginning 
 down to now, have been declared Unholy by the Church. One 
 Church teaches that unless the hand of a man or woman makes
 
 232 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 the sign of the cross upon the youngest infant, and says some 
 words prescribed by the Church, the soul of that little child 
 wanders forever in an endless limbo, and can never see the face 
 of God. Another taught ' 'there are infants in hell from whence 
 they can never escape. ' ' Jesus taught ' 'Even so, it is not the 
 will of your heavenly Father that one of these little ones should 
 perish", and "Their Angels do always see the face of my Father 
 which is in Heaven", and he blessed the children as their 
 mothers brought them to him, saying, ' 'Of such is the King- 
 dom of Heaven, and, except ye repent and become as little child- 
 ren ye shall never see the face of my Father which is in Heaven" 
 But, there is no Holy child on earth now, so far as we are taught. 
 
 Thanks to the teachings 
 of the Theologians who have 
 wasted much time on dogmas 
 ' 'taking tithes of mint, anise 
 and cumin, and neglecting 
 the weightier matters of the 
 law" the child declared 
 accursed at birth has had to 
 be purified; the mother is 
 declared unclean because of 
 its birth and both are ob- 
 liged to be cleansed by the 
 power of the Church. There 
 
 is one Holy Child, we are taught and all the earth is commanded 
 to bow at its feet and worship; but those other little children 
 are accursed, and only can be saved from the sins of their an- 
 cestors and their own sins, by great and tremendous travail with 
 the Theologian's creeds, and themselves. When Madam Roland 
 went to the guillotin, she left her parting message to the world; 
 as she went up the steps to the scaffold; she looked upward and 
 said, "Oh Liberty, what crimes are committed in thy name". 
 One may look to-day at the little child and, looking upward, 
 say "Oh God, what crimes are committed against the little child- 
 ren in Thy name". 
 
 THE WOMAN WHO CONCEIVES A CHILD IS AS MUCH OVER- 
 SHADOWED BY THE HOLY GHOST AS MARY WAS. THE FRUIT OF 
 
 TEMPLE CHILDREN.
 
 A LOVE STORY 233 
 
 HER WOMB IS HOLY, AND AS MUCH A "SON OF GOD" AS MARY'S 
 CHILD. 
 
 I often go to the Catholic Church and I hear the congrega- 
 tion respond again and again to the Celebrant "Holy Mary, 
 Mother of God, blessed be the fruit of thy womb Jesus". What 
 sins have been committed against the womb, the holy matrix 
 of the human race! It is declared accursed by theologues and 
 its fruit accursed also. Men have striven to protect the purity 
 of birth and blood in high places, by making it treason to cross; 
 the doorway of the womb, but they demand to fill it with their 
 own impurities as if it were a cess pool. The Harlot's house sits 
 everywhere as evidence. The law of God is clear and clean cut; 
 hideous diseases warn men of the penalty of sins against the 
 holy matrix of the race, and against the holy child, but the male 
 side of the human family demands for itself unchastity; yet a 
 chaste womb for its uses; and the child that should be holy, is 
 its victim, as well as is the woman who carries the child in her 
 womb. 
 
 I heard once of a man who claimed to be a Minister of God, 
 and he told another, "Adultery, is the least punished of the sins 
 mentioned in the Bible". Poor Fool! There is the most signal 
 evidence that Adultery is most punished of all sins that men 
 commit and the Holy book declares it. What sin is punished 
 by a disease that rots a man's bones in his skin, that makes him a 
 mass of corruption and full of horrible worms, before the breath 
 leaves him; that stinks, that is dead, though he is alive, 'whose 
 very touch 'is death, to another, and no cure is known, and 
 his sin will descend to curse any child he may beget, for gen- 
 erations. Yet the harlot, the brothel, the White Slave Traffic, 
 all, curse every land to-day. Men and women are born who 
 have no chastity whatever, and who are agreed there is no such 
 thing, in the face of facts. Others have come who deny chas- 
 tity is a virtue. The sin of Sodom has re-appeared. Kraft 
 Ebbing's awful book emphasises the effects of this terrible" vio- 
 lation of God's laws against the woman's womb, and against 
 the child that was meant to be as holy as Mary's child. 
 Let the Theologians go into the books; let them pray to, and 
 sit at, the feet of Holy Mothers of Holy children and learn, and 
 teach the truth. Let chastity which conserves life and vigor
 
 234 > A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 and power be taught to boys and men, as well as to girls and 
 women, and be demanded of them. Let the house of the harlot be 
 closed forever! When she, poor wretch, learns that her Hfe has 
 a limit of four years, and of the horrors she invites to her body 
 and of the danger she is in, always everywhere, she will try and 
 help herself perhaps; but so long as men demand unchastity for 
 themselves, and sin against the woman's womb, and sin against 
 the Holy Child, the curse of God is on them and on the race as 
 well. Let all learn from a wise one: 
 
 "For the lips of a strange woman drop as an 
 honeycomb, and her mouth is smoother than oil; But 
 her end is bitter as wormwood, sharp as a two-edged 
 sword. 
 
 Her feet go down to death; her steps take hold of 
 Hell. 
 
 Remove thy way far from her and come not nigh 
 the door of her house; 
 
 Lest thou give thine honour unto others, and thy 
 years unto the cruel. 
 
 Lest strangers be filed with thy wealth ; and thy 
 labors be in the house of a stranger; 
 
 And thou mourn at last, when thy flesh and thy 
 body are consumed, 
 
 For by means of a whorish woman a man is bought 
 to a piece of bread; and the adultress will hunt for the 
 precious life. 
 
 He goeth after her straightway as an ox goeth to 
 the slaughter, or as a fool to the correction of the stocks, 
 till a dart strike though his liver, and he knoweth not 
 it is for his life. 
 
 For she has cast down many wounded ; yea, many 
 strong men have been slain by her. , 
 
 Her house is the way to hell, going down to the 
 chambers of death." Proverbs. (Bible) 
 The demand of the man upon the woman, has come back 
 like a boomerang, with a curse to him and his. 
 
 In the ancient times Queens would breed themselves to 
 great warriors, for they wanted great Sons. The woman should 
 make sure she bears children to a father who is as great and
 
 A LOVE STORY 235 
 
 chaste, as she desires her sons and daughters to be. If the Vir- 
 gin bee, in the mysteries of nature can, as a Virgin, produce 
 her young, who shall say, if men refuse obedience to the law of 
 chastity, and women desire motherhood and remembers her 
 womb is holy, that she may conceive a Holy child, an incarnate 
 soul; that she shall be overshadowed by the Holy Ghost; that she, 
 chaste and obedient to a law higher than she understands, 
 by nature, may bring forth a child, may like Mary, and the 
 Virgin Bee, carry a son in her matrix and later in her arms a 
 child that is Holy -a Holy Child. 
 
 That a perfect individual may be born of a Virgin, ex- 
 tends to the highest forms of life Huxley asserts. This 
 is sustained by Mivart, Lyell, Owen, Sir James T. Simp- 
 son, Steenstrops, Castille and others. It is conceded that Par- 
 thenogenesis is a demonstrable fact.
 
 236 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 FOUR ANGELS. 
 
 Hark, a voice calleth there, 
 Through the dark winter air; 
 Snow flakes are falling, 
 Winds sadly soughing, 
 O'er hill and plain. 
 
 Listen so soft and clear, 
 
 ''Donald and Blanche" oh, hear, 
 
 "Willie and Hughie 
 
 Come little children, 
 
 Some one doth long for thee". 
 
 He who in tenderness, 
 Childrer did often bless, 
 Calleth so softly: 
 "Willie and Hughie,* 
 Blanchie and Donald". 
 
 Quick to the gentle call 
 Answered the children all, 
 "We hear Thee Master!"- 
 Passed o'er the border land, 
 Met Him, in Heaven. 
 
 Left is earth's care and pain; 
 In our loss is their gain 
 Angels forever 
 Willie and Hughie, 
 Blanchie and Donald.
 
 A LOVE STORY 237 
 
 
 THE CHILD. 
 
 ' 'How shall we order the child and what shall ive do unto 
 him. "-The Bible. 
 
 There is a beautiful story in the Bible, of a little priest of the 
 Danites, one Manoah. He and his wife had no child, though 
 it was the deep desire of their hearts. The women of that day 
 prayed for children, as some do now, and Manoah's wife, whose 
 name is not given, told him one day when he came from the 
 field, that an Angel had appeared unto her and told her she was 
 to bear a son. Manoah asked the Lord that he might see the 
 Angel, and when he appeared again, and after he did homage 
 to him, the Father who was to be, asked of the Angelic visitor 
 "How shall we order the child, and ivhat shall ivedounto him". 
 
 If each child that is to be, were entreated of God, and the 
 Fathers' would ask as did those of "ancient days'" "How shall 
 we order the child, and what shall we do unto him", problems 
 that plague us in the child, and civilization could be solved. 
 
 Oliver W. Holmes said ' 'Any disease can be cured but one 
 must begin two hundred years before the child is born, often". 
 I consider the laws made to protect children after they are born, 
 and I wonder why Preachers, Priests and Reformers do not 
 preach and instruct old and young how to "order the child" 
 before it is born. We license vice everywhere and ^expect 
 the children will be born right. Well, they will not be, they 
 cannot come right from men and women who tamper with the 
 laws of nature. When we order the child according to the law 
 of righteousness, strong men and women shall be born, and evil 
 will decline. 
 
 Poor little children, brought into being any kind of how, 
 without a prayer; laden and saddled with the sins of father 
 and mother and of ancestors way way back, often ; many born 
 only to suffer and die; many born to vice and crime; begotten 
 of fathers saturated with lust, disease and evil; conceived of 
 mothers saturated in carelessness and selfishness, and who 
 carry them in wombs diseased, or full of a lust for murder. We 
 expect too much of children and too little of their ancestors and 
 immediate parents.
 
 238 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 We pass laws to protect childrap after they are born. We li- 
 cense the saloon, the gambling den, the brothel, to ruin them be- 
 fore they are born and after they are born. We plant epilepsey, 
 insanity, tuberculosis, the black plague and crime in their beings, 
 and then punish and care for the disorders incarnate in the 
 child. I knew two little girls, grandchildren of a saloon drunk- 
 ard, whose sons were all drunkards and two of whom killed 
 themselves. The father of these little girls took his life, un- 
 able to bear the misery of it. The little girls were both inbred 
 harlots; whose fault was that? I knew a sweet little girl, 
 bright eyed and pretty whose father was debased, and whose 
 mother was a harlot. I said, "Who can save her poor little 
 girl? Her mother will sell her to base men as soon as she can. 
 She will go to destruction; no one can save her; and no one 
 could. And she grew into young girlhood and a harlot like her 
 mother. Poor little girl, she deserved better but she bore the 
 sins of others on her tender shoulders and she died. Oh how 
 many boys we have labored for and lamented over, but we can't 
 save them. Of girls, we have everywhere sent out our quota 
 to fill the ranks of those who demonstrate they were begotten 
 and conceived in lust, not love, and everywhere we see the boys 
 and girls go down the road to ruin, because of sins not their 
 own, . 
 
 Bulwer Lytton wrote a book that he desired should move 
 men deeply, and that should stay in their minds and hearts. 
 It wa*s the story of a simple, pretty country lass who was be- 
 trayed by a so-called gentleman, who had all the seducers arts 
 and good looks and money, and a lying tongue. Out of this 
 wrong came a little child, a boy. The mother died of shame 
 and grief, and the child was beaten from post to pillar as such 
 children usually are. Then the gentleman father died, and 
 went to hell, where the devils rushed him through the bodies 
 of the lower animals, even that of a skunk, to punish him. 
 This finished they sat in Council to determine the worst pun- 
 ishment for his offence that they as devils could conceive of; 
 and they decided that the worst punishment they could inflict, 
 was to make him the tempter and destroyer of his own son. 
 
 Now, men and women everywhere are the tempters and de- 
 stroyers of their own sons and daughters. We license the
 
 A LOVE STORY 239 
 
 saloon, the brothel, the gambling hell, dance hall and every evil 
 thing, and our children travel the road to death and destruction, 
 and a living hell that way. We do the work of devils and the 
 victims are our own children. 
 
 We do this diabolical work in spite of the laws of God which 
 are the laws in ourselves, and which all cry out against us. We 
 know how to incubate cholera, diptheria, typhus, the bubonic 
 plague, in glass tubes, and in the wretched animals we vivisect, we 
 make more and more of the germs we culture; and by a like pro- 
 cess we incubate disease and crime. The saloon and the brothel 
 are the great cultures for crime and disease, and we have a 
 plenty. We increase insanity, imbecility, epilepse'y, tubercu- 
 losis, the black plague and all the horrible diseases of licentious- 
 ness, but we keep the saloon and brothel and culture more. We 
 denounce the public drinking cup, but we license the brothel 
 and its inmates and culture more and more of the sex diseases; 
 the public drinking cup abolished will not save us. We can 
 kiss a baby, a friend, a father or a brother or a husband and 
 contract a horrible disease. 
 
 The Potato that now feeds the world was cultured from a 
 little half poison tuber found in America; every year sees new 
 varieties propegated from seeds and pollenizing. Tomatoes 
 from a little squashy fruit as big as the ends of our thumbs, 
 ranges through pink, red and yellow hues, and it is early and 
 late, and runs in all sizes to the great Ponderoso sorts, solid 
 and delicious and feeding the earth; every year the wiz- 
 ards of the gardens show us new and better kinds. The whole 
 line of our delicious apples which feed the lands and enrich our 
 pockets, own the little bitter sour crab apple as their progenitor 
 and always we have new sorts. The long list of luscious peaches, 
 freestones, clings, red, white and yellow, were mothered by a 
 half poison fruit, from a bush grown in Persia. 
 
 The roses, annual, teas, bourbons, perpetuals, climbers, all 
 the colors and shades of colors, sprang from the wild rose that 
 grows from the edge of the Arctic Circles through the tropics. 
 The sheep, the goat, the cattle, the dog and cat, horses beasts of 
 every kind of the best, are all cultured from the wild and 
 inferior animals. 
 
 Man, as yet, has not gone into the culture business for the
 
 240 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 race. Physically, the wild man is a better specimen than the 
 man of culture, and in his way has a better education of his 
 senses. In the centers of civilization, great cities, we find the 
 lowest types of man. For, with an environment which ought 
 to be of the best, he has become decadent in mind and body, 
 He is not a beast; he is not a normal man. The beast is nat- 
 ural. This decadent man is lower than the beasts. 
 
 The Greeks, the Romans and the Spartans, tried man cul- 
 ture, but they also were disobedient to the laws of God, and 
 they came to an end. The Mormons in due season, because of 
 their promiscuity, will end, if the United States does not end 
 their polygamus practices as it ought, sooner. Why do not 
 Christian peoples and educated peoples seek to culture noble 
 men and women, spiritually, mentally and physically, in- 
 stead of giving so much time to ruin them with a specious 
 culture, instead of with a culture that takes the whole man in, 
 and measures him to the standard of a perfect man in God, and 
 from a right beginning? Why do not the civilized races spend 
 as much effort to culture the human race as they do to culture 
 the vegetables, grains, fruits and stock? This is a prodigious 
 question and the Church ought to take hold of it. If she does 
 she will live; if she does not, she will travel faster and faster to 
 her end. 
 
 The poison, of terrible things in human life is everywhere, 
 in everything, yet we go on with our culture of it and few even 
 know enough to teach the truth. 
 
 "What fools these mortals be" said Puck. I'm minded to 
 say, "How devilish we mortals are". Let us ask of God for 
 each child. "How shall we order it". "What shall we do unto 
 it before it is born". Shall the child be born right or shall we 
 incarnate it as a mass of disease and with devilish tendencies? 
 
 If I had a little child to teach I would so live and walk be- 
 fore it that it should see in me an inspiration for the highest I 
 tried to teach it. I would try to preserve in it that sweet trust 
 and sincerity that children have. I would teach it of its hands 
 and feet, eyes and ears, and nose and mouth and tongue and of 
 all the organs of the body and their functions. I would teach 
 it of the heart, out of which are the issues of life, I would 
 teach it of the marvels of being, and of the Will which is the
 
 A LOVE STORY 241 
 
 great Governor of that mighty engine of forces the body. I 
 wonld teach it of the beautiful life of Jesus Christ, who grew 
 in grace and beauty, and in favor with God and man as a child; 
 and of God, who is the author of all and to whom all must be 
 subject, not only man^J^ut the Universe. A wise Mother, at 
 the close of each day took her little daughters hands in hers 
 and asked the story of the day, and if the little hands had been 
 good, she kissed them, but if they had been naughty, she did 
 not put that seal of approval on them ; the tears the little girl 
 shed when her hands were unkissed, washed the stains away 
 and led the child out to holy places. I would take my little 
 lad or lass out under the stars at night, and when the moon 
 flooded the earth with radiance or showed her silver horns, I 
 would teach of celestial things, of the beauty of the moon and 
 stars, and of what laid behind it all. God! I would teach those 
 marvellous things, and lead the childs tender mind to know more 
 than I know. I would teach of the flowers and grasses, of the 
 mystery hidden in the tiny seed, of the processes of reproduc- 
 tion so far as we know, I would saturate the child's mind with 
 the beauty and wonder of land and sea, of winds and rain, of 
 sun and light and darkness; how the heart grows cold and cal- 
 lous that does not love; how the sense of beauty needs cultiva- 
 tion. I would teach it many things of the good and great of 
 earth. I would read with it in the Bible, and the Poets, and that 
 all things demanded men and women should be good, and back 
 of all, and under all, was God and the Holy Angels. I would 
 try and make the world a place of mystery and enchantment, 
 whose charm could never fail, and that all might atune unto it. 
 I would teach the reality and earnestness of life, and I would 
 teach it how to work. I have taught many children the best 
 I know. It is a delightful task, and when we consider the life 
 that may grow out of it; we long to some day be able to know 
 of it. The normal child turns toward truth as the flower to- 
 ward the sun. It is only we who handle them who lack wisdom 
 but we are told to ask that of God. When we ask of God and 
 the Holy Angels "How shall we order the child and what shall 
 we do unto it", before it is incarnate, we shall know in its full- 
 ness the meaning of the words ' 'Their Angels do always see 
 the face of my Father which is in Heaven."
 
 242 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 Men look at the cow, the swine, the horse, the sheep and 
 say to bring forth young is natural, and looking at the women 
 they say the same and then proceed to make demands of her 
 that is not expected of any brute, and that no female animal will 
 allow; and these women must bear it 9H; the house labor, her 
 child care, bodily miseries of many sorts, her apprehension of 
 the future, for with her the end may mean death and the leaving 
 of other children to be cared for by others. Unlike the brute 
 that breeds, woman has a mind to think and a heart to feel, 
 and a will, of which must be subjugated, if she would have a 
 child, and at the end stands death maybe, and nine long months 
 she walks with him, and every child she bears increases her 
 peril. To a woman who knows and thinks and feels, it is a ter- 
 rible problem. 
 
 I have no patience with men who make hysterical screeches 
 on the race suicide question. That is a question for the woman 
 who faces death for the child to decide. On one occasion we 
 are told Henry VIII was told by his physician that his then wife 
 was in a crisis in her labor, and that they faced the question of 
 taking the life of Mother or child. Which should it be? "Save 
 the child", said Henry, women are plenty". I detest a man 
 who, with a wife dead in childbirth, marries again, and demands 
 of the world that women bring forth more children. Let him 
 be humble one has died for him. Let the woman decide; let 
 men keep their hands off. 
 
 Ah, what cruelties does this human creature suffer who 
 must bring forth children! Robbed by the law of her 
 rights, ordered to bring forth children that men may supply the 
 brothel from her daughters, and the brutalities of slaughter in 
 war for her sons, spending thousands and millions of money she 
 has earned and men took from her, to build great Battleships 
 and make great guns and ball and powder, and all the horrible 
 implements of .war to mar and mutilate and murder hers' and 
 other woman's sons; robbing, her of her property and sons 
 and leaving her a pensioner perhaps on others, when she is old. 
 Men in America allow the newly imported foreigner, the Negro, 
 Indian, returned Convict, to vote; and set up the gambling den 
 and the brothel and saloon to destroy what she ventured her 
 life to bring forth! The woman is not allowed a voice in any of
 
 A LOVE STORY 243 
 
 it. Yet she is demanded to bring forth children. 
 
 August Bebel says, that the ' 'average height of the German 
 soldier has had to be reduced three times in as many decades." 
 He says this deterioration of the size of a german man is due 
 to the ill treatment the German Mothers receive. If men would 
 only free their women everywhere! It is an old saying that 
 "Slave women cannot bring forth free children". Lowell says, 
 "They enslave their children's children who make compromise 
 with sin". Men for their own sakes need to free women, as 
 free as they are free. It is hard I admit to have the women 
 so long taught as their lawful subjects and prey, to slip out 
 from under their thumbs. It is not a good showing the men 
 of America make to refuse to free their women, especially since 
 they have enfranchised the Negro, Indian, and returned Convicts 
 all of whom they must admit are inferior to the white woman. 
 A respectable bachelor, a Deacon in the Presbyterian Church, 
 was once talking to two widows, one of whom kept boarders 
 and had raised a large family, the other was myself who was a 
 farmer and a worker at all sorts of things. He said "In Nature 
 the male was always at the head, among the animals, etc.," 
 therefore the man should be over the woman. We disputed, 
 and told him the only she thing in Nature that was dominated 
 by the male was the woman, that every other she creature was 
 free. He looked horrified, but that was the demonstrable truth; 
 and man is to blame for it because he has used his brute force 
 to dominate woman on every hand, materially, physically, so- 
 cially, financially, politically; and the sooner he sets his mind 
 to understand, and his will to do, the better for him and her, 
 and the child, around which all creation must perforce revolve. 
 It was true what Jesus said, "A little child shall lead them". 
 
 Bret Harte's poor harlot's child dominated and subjugated 
 the evil spirits of the Camp in the Sierras. So if men want 
 noble children they must enfranchise and free the mother and 
 have her as free as all the other shes in creation. The man or 
 woman who raises a noble child has done greater things than 
 he who writes a book or paints a picture, or sculptures out of 
 the cold stone an image of a man or woman, or other things. 
 The Holy Ghost must move upon the souls and minds and wills 
 of men and women to the child begotten of them. It shall in-
 
 244 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 deed be the Holy Child, because it was overshadowed in its 
 Mother's womb with the Holy Ghost. Catholics offer women 
 safe transport to heaven who die in childbirth. The Orthodox 
 Jews do the same, and every child a woman bears she is taught 
 to believe wipes away all of her sins to the time of its birth. I 
 am sure they who bear children will occupy the high places in 
 the Hereafter. Who can understand the deep things of God 
 like the woman who walks for nine long months hand in- hand 
 with death? 
 
 Men and women need children. All the culture of the 
 schools ought to be preparation for child rearing. It is the 
 great school of the race. There is no culture of whatever kind 
 like the profound culture that comes to one from rearing child- 
 ren, in view of all' its responsibilities, and values. No culture 
 whatever is more than dust and ashes, beside such a task. Let 
 every woman demand the best for her child. Love that has not 
 the hope of the child as its culmination is lust. There is noth- 
 ing in it that is worth while. We need not the one ' 'Little 
 Christ Child" one day in the year; we need the Holy Child on 
 every day of every year, that we can rise to the best and holi- 
 est that is in us and bring up men and women who are of the 
 full stature of the Christ, in love and life. The solemn fact con- 
 fronts us that Life and Death walk hand in hand together, 
 through it all. And the child must lead us to the best that man 
 can know.
 
 A LOVE STORY 245 
 
 BABY 'COTT. 
 
 Two merry laughing eyes, 
 Of sweetest hazel hue, 
 The drollests little grin, 
 When she peeps up at you, 
 Has Baby 'Cott. 
 
 The cutest little nose 
 "Tip-tilted" like a flower- 
 She is the sweetest rose 
 That blooms in mamma's bower, 
 Dear Baby 'Cott. 
 
 Two honey scented lips, 
 Like rubies cleft in twain, 
 Ten dimpled finger tips, 
 In mischief every hour, 
 Sweet Baby 'Cott, 
 
 Two restless little feet, 
 Are pattering on the floor, 
 Her dove-like cooing sweet, 
 Floats on the azure air, 
 Bright Baby 'Cott. 
 
 O, may her tender feet, 
 Ne'r stray in thorny ways, 
 And let her graces sweet, 
 Not fade in coming days, 
 Pure Baby 'Cott.
 
 246 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 IT ISN'T FAIR. 
 
 I saw one day a little lad with blue eyes and curly hair. I 
 smiled at him and he smiled back again, but there was a look 
 in his face like that of a Masterless dog, and I felt a thrill of 
 pity for the poor little chap. His Grandfather, long dead, was 
 a saloon drunkard, and his father was a thief, and I knew that 
 little fellow would never amount to much even if he did not be- 
 come a vicious boy and man and land in jail or the Pen. 
 
 I knew a sweet little girl, pretty and bright, but her mother 
 was a harlot, and I said "As soon as Maude is old enough she 
 will go to the bad, we cannot help it, no one can, and she did. 
 She was a pretty woman and she became a pursuer of men, a 
 destruction to families, and a feeder of evil because she broke the 
 law, of men and truth, in obedience to a law written in her 
 body. 
 
 I knew a man who was full of lust, and preyed on women; 
 his father before him was a sinner of that sort. 
 
 I knew a man who was insane. His mother's people were 
 hard drinkers and he paid for their violation of law. 
 
 I knew a woman whose grandfather was a drunkard and 
 she had his thirst in her, and she became a drunkard too. 
 
 I knew a man whose father taught him to drink. He be- 
 came the curse of his father, the scourge of his mother and 
 family, and abandoned his wife and his own little children. 
 
 It was not fair; it was not right that these should have had 
 to pay for the evils of their fathers and mothers, but it is the 
 law that the innocent must suffer for the guilty, and if men 
 do not know or care, the law will not be changed for them. 
 They are not fair to their own flesh and blood. Why should 
 they demand of God, what they will not render themselves to 
 their own. 
 
 I knew a boy whose grandfather was a drunkard, his father 
 a thief and his mother a drunkard's child. The boy is a thief 
 and dead beat, and cannot be cured. What profit is it to a 
 town or a state or a nation to license the sale of liquor and 
 bawdry, and other evils, and create citizens like that? Some day, 
 maybe, men will learn how sure God's law is, and will become obe-
 
 A LOVE STORY 247 
 
 dient to it, but now they set up causes, and take conclusions like 
 this for their pay. And so on, one can multiply over and over again 
 such instances. It isn't fair to the child, and no man can es- 
 cape the law. So it is not fair.
 
 248 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 HARLOTS. 
 
 Every town has its stock of harlots, and they -have the pro- 
 tection of the law except at rare intervals when things get too 
 stin-king, and then they get a small scare by threats of laws 
 enforcement, or are arrested and fined a little. Everybody 
 knows who they are, and where they are located, even the 
 children. They corrupt other women and young girls, by their 
 siren talk of the easy life they lead and the easy money they 
 make. They poison boys and men with incurable diseases, that 
 are carried by them to be communicated to wives, to mothers, 
 to sisters and others, we are told. ' 'The public drinking cup is a 
 menace" says the law; but the presence of our harlots who are 
 all diseased, poisons the cup and is a menace to everybody in 
 the community; we say little about it; it is too shameful, we 
 do not enforce the law. We campaign hotly the results of the 
 harlots work, but we protect the cause her presence and her 
 business, and we have more and more of the horrible diseases 
 she genders. 
 
 The police do not meddle, for the men who vote them into 
 offices want harlots in the town, many of them. The* police 
 know well enough they will turn themselves out of office if they 
 meddle too much. Women are pacified by men to the harlots 
 presence by the silly story that she is a necessity, that she is 
 really the "Priestess of humanity", that virtuous women would 
 not be safe from assault except for her presence in the Com- 
 munity. Women, girls and children are already assaulted 
 everywhere, and these assaults increase, and the harlot's busi- 
 ness makes these assaults more certain. 
 
 I am of the mind of a good Catholic Priest of New Jersey. 
 A young woman of his congregation was assaulted on the pub- 
 lic road. She made a terrible fight to protect herself but she was 
 cruelly murdered. As he made an address over her dead body 
 he said, ' If women are no longer safe from the ' assaults of 
 men, I advise them to fill their belts with pistols and take care 
 themselves. In Effingham a virtuous woman and a young girl, 
 on the same night, were assaulted by a rascally man. I went 
 to our Mayor and told him the circumstances and said, ' 'Will 
 you permit the women of this town to carry pistols in their own
 
 A LOVE STORY 249 
 
 defence from fellows like this, who lay hands upon them by 
 night"? "Oh, no, no" he said, "let them file complaint". 
 "They will not", I said, submit themselves to the insult of a trial 
 like that and have a jury called who will, in all probability, 
 not fine the rascal, and leave them the shame to carry, and 
 have a doubt, perhaps, cast on their own virtue. But he still 
 said "No", A policeman, more kind and just, told the women 
 how to make and carry a "billy" at night, and also how to use it. 
 So women have to look out for themselves, while the har- 
 lots run free, and make assaults upon women and girls certain; 
 and these things are everywhere; and women and girls are 
 murdered all over the land by means of this damnable con- 
 dition. A certain harlot infested Effingham for twenty years. 
 She was notorious and everybody knew her and her call- 
 ing. She had a son who was a petty thief, and a daughter 
 who was a harlot like her mother. The daughter had children 
 and they all three came upon the town for support, for they 
 would not work. The son was in jail time and again, and the 
 Mother finally concluded she would come upon the County also. 
 She was a big stout woman, but she "got on", along with three 
 others who plied the same trade. It was* too much to endure, 
 and I went to the grand jury and made complaint, narrated 
 the condition of things and demanded the indictment of the har- 
 lot. To the Catholics, Lutherans and Protestants, on that body 
 I talked fast and fully; they gave me a good hearing but, to my 
 disgust, did nothing in the way of indictment; but they all went 
 home and took after their Supervisors to know why these ras- 
 cally law-breakers these harlots were on the pay-roll, dress- 
 ing finer than the most of their wives and doing no work at all, 
 when their wives had to work hard to earn money to live. 
 That was a poser! When the County Board met next time they 
 sent the Sheriff to me with an invitation to present the matter 
 to them. I was glad to go, and these women were all dropped 
 from the county pay-roll as a result. What I wanted was to 
 run these harlots out of town; those men were all satisfied to 
 let them stay so long, as they escaped the stigma of allowing 
 them at the County Crib, and a little money saved the County! 
 I felt sad that a few cents counted more with our County Legis- 
 lature than the great question of morals, of health and of the
 
 250 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 protection of women girls and children. 
 
 I have no doubt if the women of any county in the United 
 States were to chase harlots, they would find just what I found. 
 The grand jury following the one I mention had eight good 
 men upon it in the twenty-four that composed that body. I 
 called upon a young Christian man upon the Jury, and laid the 
 matter before him in full, and said "I want the indictment of 
 that wicked old harlot who has ruined so many and spread 
 disease. 
 
 "I want to teach the harlots of this place to behave and to 
 get out, but I do not wish to appear this time before the Grand 
 Jury, ' ' and I gave him the names of the other seven Grand 
 Jurors upon whom I thought he could reply. The jury man did 
 his best and he told me it was the hardest job he ever took hold 
 of, but they got the harlot indicted. .1 wanted her sent to jail 
 as a warning to the rest, and as notice that the state had a law, 
 and could and would enforce it. The States Attorney, a sworn 
 officer of the law, immediately took "straw bail" for this 
 woman. I visited' him at once and told him his bondsmen w T ere 
 no good, and proved it. He knew it as well as I, but he did 
 not intend to enforce the law. He wanted to defeat the law 
 and please his patrons. I got after one of the bailers who was 
 a Lutheran. I went to the preacher of his Church, and I got 
 a kinsman of his wife to go and see his wife and tell on him; 
 and, between his wife and the Church, I ran that bailer off the 
 bond. The States Attorney immediately took another straw 
 bailer. I hunted up his property record; neither bailer was 
 worth a cent. I went to the States Attorney again but he 
 balked. This last bailer had no wife and belonged to no Church 
 so I was blocked. The States Attorney refused to make good; 
 then I demanded a forfeiture declared of the bail when the 
 matter came to trial, "Oh yes" he bravely agreed to that and 
 when the day came, and the accused did not appear, he called 
 the names of the bailers in a loud brave voice, and the bail was 
 declared forfeited. To this day no forfeited bail has been col- 
 lected, because there was nothing to collect. The harlot es- 
 caped the penalty of the law in such cases made and provided, 
 the same old farce of non enforcement was enacted in the 
 same old way, and foundations were laid for more law breaking
 
 A LOVE STORY 251 
 
 of the same sort, and of other kinds all kinds in fact, and the 
 same officers of the law engineered it, and the same men behind 
 the same officer of the law sustained it, for the States Attorney 
 was re-elected. 
 
 After this harlot was indicted I went to an Ex Supervisor, 
 and asked him to go and see this woman and tell her she had to 
 get out of Effingham, for it was the intention to keep after her 
 till she was landed in jail, and punished as the law provided. 
 She finally saw the point and, with her thief son, her harlot 
 daughter, and two poor little wretched grand -children who 
 would walk in the ways of their Grandmother and Mother, 
 took her leave of us. Out of the womb of Margaret Jukes 
 came 2000 criminals, not a good one in the lot. We breed har- 
 lots and harlotry, and protect both. We violate the law to pro- 
 tect them, and then we fill pages of the daily papers with 
 dissertations on the "public drinking cup" which carries the 
 terrible poison which they produce and keep alive. 
 
 We encourage the vice of harlotry in red light districts and 
 protect it, and then go carrying on the consequences. It looks 
 as if men had gone mad and lost their power to connect cause 
 and effect. They are, however, as loud voiced about the drink- 
 ing cup, as my States Attorney was to call his "straw- bailers". 
 Women are not allowed a chance to protect their children and 
 themselves, and a cry is raised that they are harder on the har- 
 lot than the men are, and will not touch her. Why shouldn't 
 they be? And they ought to refuse to touch the harlots gar- 
 ments, there is death in them. The Bible says ' 'she it is who 
 seeks after the "precious life", that her feet lay hold on hell, 
 and her way is the way of destruction. Men follow her as the 
 "fool goeth to the stocks, and the ox to the shambles". 
 
 Dr. Prince V. Morrow in his powerful appeal for chastity in 
 men, demands we shall organize to fight the sex diseases as a 
 means of the perservation of the race. Men who are so exer- 
 cised on race suicide, ought to read what he says and then do 
 something, instead of merely howling about and blaming women. 
 When Doctors and other men organize against the Black Plague, 
 which is the harlots gift to the human race, we will no longer 
 argue for the presence of, nor protect the harlot, and her male 
 companion in vice and crime.
 
 252 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 Dio Lewis long ago taught the conserving power of chastity, 
 as does Holbrook and many others, but Dr. Morrow's call is for 
 organization for the protection of the race. I once sent Dr. 
 Morrow's pamphlet on the need of organizing against Sex Vice 
 to our County Medical Association, and urged them to read it 
 and act. It is not a long story could be read in thirty minutes 
 or less; they sent me word they were too busy "to do anything". 
 Why should there be such a demand for women to bear child- 
 ren; when so comparatively few men are fit to be fathers be- 
 cause of the harlot? 
 
 Queens of the ancient times visited the camps of great 
 warriors seeking for fathers to conquering children they should 
 bear, that should succeed to their kingdoms ' 'Thalestrus, Queen 
 of the Amazons, came into the camp of Alexander the great to 
 become a Mother through him". (August Bebel Woman, Past, 
 Present and Future. ) Yet no woman of modern times has advocat- 
 ed such a mode of procedure to stock the race with better material, 
 nor any man strange to say. The Spartans advocated it. If 
 women demand that they breed only to the highest types of men, 
 and leave the rest of mankind to the harlots, who can justly com- 
 plain. Men have been demanding women breed children, knowing 
 that they risk their life and venture death for it. The fathers 
 that are "offered these women for children are terribly inferior, 
 many of them. Why not women raise a demand for the best 
 fathers for their children? 
 
 As men demand the harlot in every -community, women 
 ought to match that demand with a demand of their own, for 
 better fathers for the children it is demanded they shall bear.
 
 A LOVE STORY , 253 
 
 THE BLACK PLAGUE. 
 
 BONBORNION, BUBONIUM, BUBO, BUBONIC-PLAGUE, CANCERS, TUMORS. TU- 
 BERCULOSIS, INSANITY, IDIOCY, IMBECILITY. 
 
 Every city has its Red Light District its establishments 
 for sex sins and crimes, and so has every little town. It is 
 declared from all sorts of theological, legal, medical, and from 
 many lesser places that this thing cannot be subdued. That 
 is to say, that establishments for sex vice must be tolerated be- 
 cause they cannot be eradicated. Women, to quiet them, are 
 taught they would not be safe from assaults and rape, if these 
 conditions were not permitted everywhere. Yet assaults and 
 rape and murder of women and girls and children increase. 
 
 In Europe, sex vice is licensed just as America licenses 
 saloons, and on the ground of public health and propriety. In 
 America we do not openly license the brothel. The matter is 
 winked at in most small towns and the harlot plies her trade 
 with her male coordinates unmolested. In large cities houses of 
 prostitution are "pulled" and the proprietors fined, then let go, 
 and "pulled" again and fined, which amounts to a virtual licens- 
 ing of the evil. England for years has fought the contagious 
 disease acts in Parliment for her cities and her armies. It is 
 conceded, but for American women who fought it, contagious 
 disease factories would be licensed with us. 
 
 Heretofore it has been taught, that the sex diseases can be 
 cured; but in America there have come great and learned phy- 
 sicians who teach us that the sex diseases are absolutely incura- 
 ble. One physician writing says, ' 'not only are they incurable 
 in this world, but they will follow a man into hell like a 
 shadow". We are now taught that no woman is safe to marry 
 and live with a man who has been infected with sex diseases at 
 any time, that not only her health, but her life is at stake, and 
 the life of her offspring as well. We are taught there are no 
 possible means for one to discern when these terrible diseases 
 may attack the man, the woman or the child. We know a kiss 
 from a little babe may engender it; that a hand clasp, a kiss, a 
 towel, a garment, a cup, all may communicate it, to one inno- 
 cent of offense. No disease in the whole category is so horri-
 
 254 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 ble. I know of a case where the sins of a father came to his 
 son, and long after the flesh of the father had gone to dust his 
 sins came out in the body of his son, mouldered his flesh from 
 his bones, gendered horrible worms in his flesh till his life was 
 a living hell, and a sister who attended him like an angel, suf- 
 fered the torments of the Inferno at her task. 
 
 A man who much desired children saw them die one after 
 another in infancy and his physician said, ' 'You will never raise 
 a child. The sins of your youth have murdered them". The 
 wife who bore them had to be deceived. The man shed bitter 
 tears as his little ones perished because of his sins. 
 
 I hear much of the Bubonic Plague. It travels from the 
 Orient this way, a result of violations of the law of chastity. 
 It is not claimed any remedy, or serum has any effect upon it; 
 they aggravate and kill the subjects treated usually; few recover. 
 Tumors, Cancers and all the awful diseases keep step with the 
 increase of sex diseases. In my opinion, forms of sex diseases; 
 not the initial malady perhaps, but scondary or tertiary or 
 later forms of it; of this I am convinced, The Red Light dis- 
 tricts get redder and redder, and the little towns follow suit, 
 and the country places which were once comparatively free 
 from the horrible sex diseases, are becoming honey combed 
 with them also. The sex instinct can be controlled. We teach 
 it is uncontrollable. It can be controlled because we have 
 plenty of evidence that chastity is a conservative force of the 
 body; unchastity a destructive power. This is evidence of the 
 law written in a mans' members for chaste living and subjuga- 
 tion of the sin and disease. Man has will by which he can 
 keep himself in check. There is plenty of evidence that men 
 who are chaste are aided by nature to a sound control of the 
 functions of sex, and that the man can use will power. 
 Why is it continually taught that man cannot control the crea- 
 tive force? Why do we teach by suggestion, a vice to man and 
 boy that is destructive; and we teach women by the same means 
 to condone the evil that may result in ruin to her and her child- 
 ren? And why is the house of prostitution everywhere sug- 
 gested to make our Red Light Districts everywhere? Who 
 teaches the young chastity? Who teaches the man and woman 
 chastity? Who teaches the City and town chastity? If the
 
 A LOVE STORY 255 
 
 Pagan, Greek and Roman and Spartan taught their young inde- 
 cency and sex vice, why cannot the Christian, European, Amer- 
 ican and Asiatic teach their children chastity and the awful 
 consequences of sex sins, and crime? We culture those vices 
 by declaring it is impossible to check or end them. Animals 
 can be taught sex control; why not men? Why are not the 
 children in all schools taught of chastity? Much could be placed 
 in books, and there are those who could write cleanly text 
 books on these subjects now. There are also coming those who 
 can instruct not only children, but fathers and mothers, on the 
 deeper matter of sex, if we would have it so. The matter can 
 be let pass in disgust, in grief, in doubt, but the law of God 
 working in a man is evidenced in violation by 
 
 THE BLACK PLAGUE 
 
 INCURABLE. 
 
 GONORRHEA, SYPHILIS, BUBONIC PLAGUE, TUMORS, CANCERS, TU- 
 BERCULOSIS, INSANITY, IMBECILITY, IDIOCY; ALfc INCURABLE. 
 
 Some day we shall rise to the knowledge of the truth in 
 this matter, and we shall teach. Then we shall bring forth 
 men and women who are Godlike in their altitudes' and lives. 
 At present "We perish for lack of knowledge". We culture 
 everywhere a disease, that while a man lives rots his bones in 
 his skin, and the flesh on his bones, and worms gender and bur- 
 row in the tissues, before life is out of them, and that murders 
 the innocent and fastens incurable diseases of all kinds upon 
 men, wome,n and children.
 
 256 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 TEACHING LIFE. 
 
 A boy of ten years, one of my 
 own blood, asked me a question 
 which indicated he was ripe for 
 instruction in the reproductive 
 processes and purity. I began, 
 "In all creation there is what 
 is called a male and female ele- 
 ment. It is everywhere in the 
 plants, the trees, the animals, 
 the birds, the fishes and in Man. 
 In some things the male and fe- 
 male element is in one plant or 
 animal, but in the most of things 
 there are two, male and fe- 
 male. Among the plants, life 
 dust, called pollen, falls from 
 the male upon the female plants; 
 the bees often carry the life 
 dust or pollen from one plant 
 to another, then seeds ripen and 
 we have new plants and trees 
 
 and flowers, if this dust does not fall seeds cannot ripen. In 
 animals and Man there must be the male and female element or 
 there would be no young. The hens lay eggs, but unless there 
 is a male bird in the chicken yard, the eggs will not hatch". I 
 told the child of the egg laying species. I told him of the ani- 
 mals that carry their young in the body of the female, includ- 
 ing Man. I gave him the hatching and gestating periods of 
 each. I told him of the suffering of all female animals that 
 bear their young in the body. I told him how life and death 
 walk hand in hand together, and how many mothers, animal 
 and human suffered, and some died in great torment to bring 
 forth their young. I said, "You see how much fathers an 
 mothers love their children when they are willing to risk their 
 lives to have them, and how children should love their parents 
 who are willing to die for them." I told him how nearly his 
 own mother came to dying for him, and he loved his Mother. I
 
 A LOVE STORY 257 
 
 could see he was profoundly interested. I laid the seal of silence 
 on his lips. It was a confidence that touched his heart. I 
 taught him many other things, and of chastity that day. 
 
 In these days when there are those who declare the law of 
 Chastity "nil", and when boys and girls are bred in unchastity, 
 and boys are taught the practice of vice, when children are bred 
 of wives many of whom are untrue, and of men who are unchaste, 
 we look about and find that the insane, the imbecile, the idiots, 
 the army of the horrible diseased and degenerates, and the 
 Traffic in girls testify to our ignorance, and our sin and crime. 
 Our sins have found us out, they have come up in frightful con- 
 ditions that terrify and mock at us; the law written in our bodies 
 and disobeyed, has come, to be revenged. They who have vio- 
 lated God's laws of Purity have not escaped, and the innocent 
 suffer with the guilty. We need to learn and teach and obey 
 the law, and especially we need to fortify the young with exact 
 knowledge. 
 
 I taught this boy that God who made all things, and ordered 
 all things, also made laws to protect His works, and He made 
 the laws of Purity and Chastity, and that no laws receive such 
 terrible consequences when they are broken as these two laws 
 of Chastity and Purity. Terrible diseases that are incurable 
 take hold of men and women, the bones rot in the skin, the 
 body rots and stinks, and is full of worms before it is dead; that 
 undertakers fear to touch the dead bodies of such people for 
 fear of catching the disease; that no one can tell who has it at 
 first; that a cup, or anything one of the diseased has touched 
 is a danger; that a hand clasp or a kiss may pass it, and that a 
 baby's kiss may set it going; that men poison their wives; and 
 babies are born that are rotten from it, or dead. No disease is 
 so terrible, and God has made it possible for everybody to know 
 it. "But", I said, "many people do not know these things, 
 but now you do". I told my lad that people who break God's 
 laws of Chastity and Purity were everywhere and he should be- 
 ware. "If you meet such an one", I [said "draw yourself to 
 your full height, look the offender in the eye and say, 'Thank 
 you, I am not of that kind', and they will slink away; that kind 
 cannot stand a rebuke". I asked the boy if he wished to ask 
 questions of me. I said ' 'if ever you want to know more come
 
 258 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 to me and I will tell you if I know. " His curiosity was satisfied, 
 he had much food for profound thought, his confidence was won. 
 He asked no questions about things we are troubled how to an- 
 swer, they seemed merged in the larger facts communicated. 
 So I taught life to the child. 
 
 There is a problem! have not solved. If one, a man or 
 woman, lusts after another, seeks after "the precious life", 
 has an intense animality, has hypnotic power, how shall that 
 one lusted after escape not suspecting evil? I have asked many 
 Mothers, but so far no one has answered me. The sex nature 
 moved upon by a stronger and lusting sex nature, what shall 
 save the victim selected, be it boy or girl, man or woman? It 
 is a terrible matter, and only one solution presents itself to me. 
 A woman who had borne nine children told me all of them were 
 physically perfect, and otherwise she believed, though she had 
 endured many adventures during gestation. She said ' 'I think 
 all that saved them was the fact that I Immediately began to 
 pray when I was in danger". I believe God who made us will 
 not leave us alone in danger if we call to Him. I believe the 
 boy and girl, the man and woman, taught to pray will have a 
 warning, and that prayer for help will be answered and the vic- 
 tim saved. No other solution of this problem presents itself to 
 me. We can try it and test it and teach it. So let us fortify 
 our children in Chastity and Purity and for the highest good, 
 and teach them to pray. 
 
 Children raised on a farm, regard the laws of reproduction 
 with much matter of factness. They know the value of flocks 
 and herds, the danger of loss. They speak of the fact that the 
 cow, the horse, the hog and the sheep will bring their young, 
 as a matter of business in which all have a deep concern, and 
 they know the need of care for the brood stock, and so false 
 modesty is not so much known, and they are modest as one 
 could wish in speaking of things. But, after all, we need to 
 think and teach and pray over this most important matter, and 
 teach in fullness and clearness in all its ways, Life, to ourselves 
 and to our children. The earlier great truths are taught a child 
 the better. We lose much when we wait too long to teach great 
 ideas. Astronomy, Physiology, Zoology, Botany, Chemistry, 
 Natural Philosophy should be taught to young children; we al-
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 ready teach Physiology. In the tender minds of children great 
 truths planted early, seem early to ripen into great harvests; 
 so let us teach them the great laws which govern life very early. 
 And we need to teach The laws of life, from the earliest times 
 to the child, in the freedom of the Lord.
 
 260 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 A NOBLE LIFE. 
 
 There were three sisters, beloved, 
 And the Lord called one away. 
 But the other two were lifted up 
 Towards the light of the Heavenly day. 
 
 There was a Son, beloved, 
 
 And the Lord called his Mother away. 
 
 But he heard her call 'twas an angel's voice, 
 
 "My Son, my Son come this way". 
 
 There were dear friends, beloved, 
 And the Lord called one away, 
 But she left the gift of a noble life 
 To help the rest on their way.
 
 A LOVE STORY 261 
 
 THE ASSESSOR. 
 
 "Taxation without representation is tyranny". 
 
 When the Assessor comes upon my Farm and says "How 
 many horses have you; how many sheep; and how many 
 hogs; I heard you had forty dogs; and how much farm ma- 
 chinery, and wagons and buggies and land, etc", I'm mad! I 
 regard him as an impertinence added to a wrong done me, for 
 he is the man the men of the Township and County and State 
 and Nation, send to levy taxes on me when I have no right or 
 representation, nor any voice in saying what I want, nor for 
 what my tax money shall be used. I work as hard as a man; I 
 earn money like a man; I bear the burdens of Community like 
 a man. I am robbed as a woman! I have no voice in anything 
 or in saying how my money, which I have earned, shall be 
 spent. The men of Illinois and the United States run their 
 hands into my pockets; take out my hard earned money, and 
 say impertinently, "What are you going to do about it, you 
 can't help yourself"; and every seventy cents out of every 
 dollar, of tax I am told goes for war taxes, when there is no 
 war. So I am mad when the Assessor, who is the expression 
 of this condition, appears on my Farm. I'm provoked with a 
 just wrath. He is to me the representative of a Robber Sys- 
 tem which men practice upon women. I went to a good roads 
 meeting one day, when it was proposed to levy a tax to build 
 roads at $6000, or more a mile, and I asked where the women 
 came in? One man said "that's not the question" which was 
 true, and a buzz ran round, my interuption was considered im- 
 pertinent, but I told them unless the women were allowed to vote 
 on that tax they were committing Robbery. The speaker said 
 he did not object to women voting and was willing for a Con- 
 stitutional amendment, but I could see the most of the crowd 
 were willing to rob the women. 
 
 A thief knocks me down and robs me, contrary to law, but 
 the Assessor, who represents the male voter, comes along and 
 I am robbed, according to law. Now I respect the thief who 
 owns he is a thief; but the thieves who profess to be honest 
 citizens and who rob me according to law, in City and on Farm,
 
 262 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 I am in wrath with. In town they assess me for paved streets, 
 and lie to justify the robbery, having prepared witnesses against 
 me and other women, and selling our property and leaving some 
 of us homeless as a result of this iniquity. I knew a widow who 
 raised a big family and worked hard. She was assessed and 
 sold out, for the property was not increased in value and she 
 had no money to save herself. But by perjured lies the men 
 swore her out of house and home, and she had no recourse, and 
 she could go to the poor house if she was not able to work. 
 Roads always were built out of the flesh and blood of men and 
 women, and the tale of the consequences is told in the old re- 
 mains of the magnificent roads the Romans built all over the 
 Roman Empire. The Romans, where are they? Their old 
 roads are a record of their wickedness. And if American men 
 continue to rob women and children and their poor brothers, 
 the same power that finished the Roman and his roads will 
 settle with them. 
 
 So the Assessor, who represents a wrong and an iniquity, 
 makes me full of wrath when he appears, and I tell him he has 
 no right to assess me at all, nor should taxes be collected from 
 me. 
 
 I admire Julia Smith who allowed her property to be sold 
 year after year to record her protest against this wrong. It is 
 no wonder she was able to translate the whole Bible unaided; 
 I know she did for I own a copy of her Bible from the original, 
 it was a task no man was ever equal to. I am hand in glove 
 with the women of Chicago who refuse to pay taxes, and who 
 protest everywhere, and I marvel, all women tax payers do not 
 arise and storm the State and National Legislatures in protest, 
 for the protection of the ballot and to save the property they 
 worked so hard to make homes of. No, I don't like to see the 
 Assessor on my farm, it makes me mad.
 
 A LOVE STORY 263 
 
 BEFORE THE BOARD OF REVIEW. 
 
 In Illinois we have what is called a Board of Review. This 
 is a species of Inquisitional body in each county, that has power 
 to call before it whomsoever it pleases, and examine their financial 
 affairs and raise their taxes. I have heard many things told 
 of what the Board of Review of my County did to others, but I 
 will tell my experience the two times I was called up. 
 
 My first experience was before the Board when the Chief 
 Inquisitor was named George. He hailed from a land where they 
 say "orse" and "ow" for horse and how. He began in this . 
 wise, "Ant you got a lot of fine furnisure, Mis Kepley?" An- 
 swer ' 'No, and I never owned any fine furniture. I do not 
 throw out nor burn up my stuff, and what I have is old I have 
 owned it a number of years". "Well now, Mis Kepley, ant you 
 got a orse up ere you didn't pay taxes on at your farm"? An- 
 swer "No, I haven't. My horses and the rest of my stock are 
 all listed; taxed and paid for in Mason township where my farm 
 is. Do you want to see my tax receipt? Dannie, the horse I 
 have here, was not brought to this town till after the corn was 
 laid by". And he didn't want to see the tax receipts, and that 
 was all. I said to myself ' 'Here you are, a tax paying citizen 
 and you are dragged up before "George*", I do not know if he 
 was the 3rd or 4th of the reigning class and quizzed like that, 
 and more taxes if possible stuck on you. You haven't a ballot 
 or a say-so any more than the colonists had". And I was as 
 mad at that Board of Review and this "George" as the colonists 
 were in their day at that old Tyrant George the 4th who taxed 
 them to the top notch and refused them representation ; my taxes 
 were raised. 
 
 The second time I was called it was to increase my taxes 
 without an increase of my property. I took my lawyer, but 
 they stuck me. Widows seem to be in the eye of the Board of 
 Review like the colonists were to old George 4th Rex. 
 
 It is an outrage and a shame. Indians, negros, foreign 
 people, drunkards, paupers, rascals, convicts pardoned out of 
 the Penitentiary so they will not lose their ballots, and all men 
 vote, and we women pay taxes and have no vote. I do not 
 think well of the men of Illinois or of any state who do women
 
 264 
 
 like that. There are now six states where men are just enough 
 and honorable enough to give women the ballot. Maybe the 
 men in the rest of the United States will become honorable 
 enough to do the same after a while. 
 
 I had a friend, a Widow, who was likewise ordered before 
 the Board of Review and "George" to be examined. She was 
 quizzed about her son. "Ant your Son got a orse and buggy? 
 He has not reported any." "Answer" No, he is a poor man. 
 All he owns is that little store. He can't afford to own ahorse 
 and buggy". King George, "That's strange". And the quiz 
 ended. 
 
 The prophets told the ancient people to "howl", when ar- 
 ticulate language failed to express their feelings, and I'd have 
 to howl to express mine on this subject. Free born American 
 Mothers and citizen widows denied the ballot in a free country, 
 and a man who couldn't speak the vernacular, born in a foreign 
 land, they are haled before, and then taxed to help pay the 
 large per diem allowed him and others who sit on them. 
 
 I wish the women of the states would do like the women 
 of Schorndorf , drop their household affairs and march upon men 
 who refuse to give them their rights and bring them to time. 
 It could be done if women had enough pluck; and conditions 
 are bad enough to stir women to do something so that they 
 might come before Boards of Review justly and not unlawfully 
 as now, to be retaxed. The English women smash windows 
 and go to prison in protest to their wrongs, and American women 
 may have to do that too in some of the States of the Union.
 
 A LOVE STORY 265 
 
 A SUFFRAGIST. 
 
 I have been a suffragist all my life because I have a strong" 
 sense of justice. I have friends who are Democrats and Re- 
 publicans politically, but I would never belong to a political 
 organization that did not declare for the ballot for women, for 
 it is rank injustice to them, and to join with those who are un- 
 just is wrong. I deride women who belong to political organ- 
 izations which vote them lower than the male drunkard, the 
 pauper, the thief, the rascal, the negro, the Indian and the 
 convict just pardoned out of penitentiary to save his vote. 
 
 I became a member of the Prohibition Party in 1881. I left 
 it when they threw the woman's ballot plank out, and did not 
 return till it was replaced. 
 
 I have agitated the question of the ballot for women all my 
 life. I have argued for it "in season and out of season" as we 
 are instructed to do. I have made some "very tired" and have 
 been advised to hire a hall for my expositions sometimes. 
 
 A new Minister came to Effingham and was quite distressed 
 when the question struck him, that "our women" wanted the 
 ballot, and he set to work to combat it dear man! He 
 preached a sermon on the awful punishment of leprosy sent on 
 Miriam, for attempting to meddle in Governmental affairs with 
 Aaron and Moses. He made his women members mad, and 
 some of them said things. I invited him to repeat his sermon 
 at The Temple; he had a nice audience and was well treated, 
 but I took opportunity at the social hour to say, "Now Brother 
 M. I never knew God sent leprosy as a punishment to Miriam 
 for working with Aaron and Moses in the Government of 
 Israel. ' ' ' 'Well, what was it then ?' ' said he. ' 'Well, I thought 
 it was because she and Aaron tried to stir up the people against 
 Moses because he had a black wife." "Oh, that's the way you 
 explain it". "Well, that is what the Bible says." Men and 
 women are too much given to taking the opinions of Theologues 
 instead of the Word itself, 
 
 Another time he and I were holding the pulpit at a Church, 
 and I spoke on the need of the ballot forwomen to protect their 
 children and their homes. He asked me rather quizzically at 
 the close, how I explained what St. Paul said about women. I
 
 266 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 said St. Paul declares many thing he says are not the law; that 
 what he said was his opinion under the circumstances. "Oh, 
 that is the way you explain it"? "No, St. Paul said it". I 
 love St. Paul; he was scoffed at, so was I; he was beaten, I was 
 beaten; he was martyred, I was shot at for my life. When Paul 
 heard the Macedonian cry "Come help us" in his vision, he was 
 obedient. It seems the cry came from women, for when he 
 went to Macedonia he went to the river side where prayer was 
 wont to be made, and there he only found women. Lydia, a 
 rich widow, a merchant, a seller of purple and fine linen, was 
 his first Convert with all her household, and the work began 
 that grew so grandly, to success, out of his vision, and his call, 
 and the women. 
 
 Jn Hebrews Paul gives us a letter full of gratitude and 
 praise and exaltation of women, and he sends this letter by 
 Phebe, and instructs the Church at Cenchrea to do as she bade 
 them. Paul was a just man; he was just to women. 
 
 I often think of an old Mother in Israel of the city of Abel, 
 who saved the whole city and the people from destruction. 
 David sent Joab to catch one Sheba, a rascal who fled to the 
 City of Abel for safety. The men of the city shut the gates and 
 prepared to protect the law breaker as they do now, many 
 Of them. Joab rigged up a battering ram and prepared to raze 
 the city walls, and destroy the inhabitants thereof, when the 
 head of a woman appeared at the top of the wall and she de- 
 manded to know why Joab proposed to batter down the walls 
 and destroy all the people, and her a "Mother in Israel." ' And 
 she reminded him that it was written that "at Abel, counsel 
 was to be taken." Joab made argument with her, and she 
 said "What is it you demand?" And he said, "I want the 
 head of Sheba thrown over the walls to me by tomorrow morn- 
 ing, and I will spare the City." This woman went to the 
 Rulers of the City with "her wisdom", says The Word, and 
 Sheba' s head was cast over the wall the next morning and Joab 
 went away satisfied, and the City was saved. To this day no 
 one knows that woman's name. I never heard anyone tell her 
 story but myself, in all the years of my life. Justice was done 
 through this woman. There is much unworked ground in The 
 Bible on the Woman Question.
 
 A LOVE STORY 267 
 
 Once conversing with a Catholic Priest I happened to spealc 
 of "Women filled with the Holy Ghost". His hands went up in 
 the air, and he exclaimed with a sort of horror, ' 'Women filled 
 with the Holy Ghost"! "Yes", I said. Now I was rather 
 surprised, for our Catholic Brethren of the Church claim to 
 know the Bible better than anybody. I said "Do you remem- 
 ber when the Apostles gathered in the upper room at Jerusalem 
 waiting for the outpouring of the Holy Ghost?" "Oh, yes" he 
 remembered that. "And you remember the names of part of 
 the men are mentioned, and also the names of some of the 1 
 women"? "Yes". Now he had been quoting St. Paul like my 
 Protestant brother, so I said to him, "Now I will take Peter, 
 instead of Paul, for "on that rock you build your Church." 
 Peter said when the Holy Ghost was poured out, 'This is in ful- 
 fillment of the prophecy of Joel. In the last days saith the 
 Lord I will pour out of my spirit on all flesh, and your old men 
 shall dream dreams; your young men shall see visions, and your 
 women shall prophecy,' ' well, he had nothing further to say; 
 he may be meditating on that question yet for all I know. 
 
 I once canvassed the State of Illinois and obtained 40,000 
 names to a petition to the Legislature asking for the submission 
 of an Amendment to the Constitution giving women the ballot. 
 That is the only way we can obtain the full ballot in Illinois. 
 At the head of each petition, and on the envelope which con- 
 tained it, I placed the name of the Senator or Representative 
 it went to, and his Congressional and Legislative districts, and 
 his County; 'it was a Syllabus of the contents. Each day the 
 petitions were read by the Clerk of each House; they were read 
 off as a part of the day's business, and the newspapers so noted 
 the matter. 
 
 It made much agitation. I was told it was folly to expect 
 the submission of such an Amendment; that many other 
 Amendments would be run in, and some other would be sub- 
 mitted. At least a dozen were proposed, but no Amendment 
 whatever was submitted to the people that year. 
 
 The Legislature did not dare to scorn the forty thousand 
 names of their people, democrats, republicans, prohibitionists 
 and socialists, so they escaped by submitting none. It was a 
 victory in a sense and the campaigning and signing of the
 
 268 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 / 
 
 petitions was a tremendous agitation through the whole state 
 and did us good in Illinois, and hastened the day when women 
 citizens shall have justice done them. This Petition was 
 mothered by the W. C. T. U. and carried by them through the 
 state. 
 
 In carrying petitions I find friends when least expected, 
 and enemies when I thought we had friends. These last I badger 
 to my hearts content, and run them to the wall every time for 
 they are in the wrong. Such work is very healthy, pros and 
 antis enjoying it, we lose nothing by doing it nor do the 
 enemy, we do them good. 
 
 Always some converts are made and many are set to think- 
 ing. I feel as if I had been studying for a degree when I get 
 through a task of this kind, and it seems to me I have learned 
 enough to deserve one. It is healthy to be just, and to seek to do 
 justice, so one wins in that direction too. 
 
 Mr. Kepley gave me three volumes of the History of the 
 Suffrage Movement, by Mrs. Cady Stanton, Susan B. Anthony, 
 et al. Mrs. Stanton made me a gift of her Biography, and I 
 have a stock of books and pamphlets and my Bible. Susan Anthony 
 and I often wrote to each other and she has been in my home. 
 Susan had such a devout faith in the Rupublican party, but I, 
 alas, had none, and it seems her faith was not soundly grounded 
 for it has been men of all parties who are growing just to women. 
 She and I argued the matter quite a bit. I tell the men of Eff- 
 ingham, "we women, when we get the ballot, can beat any ini- 
 quitous measure you men put up, and we can do it in the State 
 and Nation, and I think we will. The ballot draws near to us. 
 I'd like to campaign with the English women, yes with the 
 Militants, and with the women of every state, but I feel I do not 
 lose time when I work as hard as a man farmer, am as suc- 
 cessful as a man farmer, and then am taxed unjustly, and when I 
 raise my voice in protest to this injustice to myself and to other 
 women who labor as hard. Things go fairly well. It breaks 
 an Anti all up to be told that for forty years or more the Presi- 
 dent of the United States has had the ballots of women to help 
 elect him. I honor the men of Wyoming, Colorado, Utah, Idaho, 
 Washington and now of California who do justice to their 
 women and rate them as high as Indian?, Negros, drunkards,
 
 A LOVE STORY 269 
 
 paupers, rascals or convicts. I do not see why the men of Illi- 
 nois and all the other States of the Union, do not do justice to 
 their women and enfranchise them, and give them an equal 
 chance to hold their own, their homes and their children's wel- 
 fare against the debased classes of men. Even the wretched 
 harlot needs the ballot to save her. Men need the ballot for 
 women as much as for their own welfare, as for the woman's. 
 "Let justice be done though the Heavens fall", and they will 
 not fall except they come down the earth to bless us. 
 
 One might mention the great and good who have stood for 
 the enfranchisement of women, but after all justice is the great 
 attribute of God, and He creates us to demand it, to do His ser- 
 vice. Hence, I am, always was, and always will be, a Suffra- 
 gist, and hope the day is not far off when the men of all the 
 States will let their women vote, and do justice to them. 
 
 I wrote the following song and taught my children to sing 
 it. I wished them to know the injustice their Mothers suffered 
 from.
 
 270 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 OH, MOTHER DEAR YOU OUGHT TO VOTE. 
 
 * TUNE-"WEARIN OF THE GREEN''. 
 
 Oh! Mother dear, and did you hear 
 
 The news that's moving round, 
 The vile saloons are going to be 
 
 Set up in our town. 
 The men have voted them to come 
 
 And stay among us here, 
 No matter if it spoils or kills 
 
 Your darling children dear. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Oh Mother dear, you ought to vote, 
 
 And keep that curse away, 
 You ought to vote, you ought to vote, 
 
 And then you'd have your say, 
 The same as any man in town, 
 
 Who cast his vote to say 
 That you and all your children dear 
 
 In pain for rum must pay. 
 
 We know you love your children dear, 
 
 For us you'd give your life, 
 And to our father you have been 
 
 A faithful loving wife; 
 You toiled and labored night and day 
 
 To keep us good and true, 
 And now the men have voted in 
 
 The vile saloons on you. 
 
 CHO. Oh! mother dear, etc. 
 
 You know that once we suffered much, 
 
 For father went away 
 He had the curse of drink on him, 
 
 We felt it night and day, 
 In vile saloons he spent his time, 
 
 With wicked men he'd stay,
 
 A LOVE STORY 271 
 
 We wept, we froze, we starved, we prayed 
 In misery each day. 
 
 CHO. Oh! mother dear, etc. 
 
 I saw old Paddy Flannigan 
 
 A leanin 'gainst a house, 
 He hasn't got a foot of land 
 
 No more than any mouse 
 He always loafs in beer saloons, 
 
 He drinks, he swears, he fights, 
 He's got what you've not, mother dear, 
 
 He's got his VOTING RIGHTS. 
 
 CHO. Oh! mother dear, etc. 
 
 And there was Jakie Hardikop, 
 
 And Tony Mafia, 
 
 And Pete, the man with yellow hair, from' 
 Scandanavia 
 
 And old man Jones 
 From way down South, 
 
 As black as any pot, 
 Who all hang 'round the old saloons 
 
 To spend all they have got. 
 
 CHO. Oh! mother dear, etc. 
 
 And snub-nosed Nickie Moskowitz, 
 
 And Polack Poliskow, 
 And men from every land and clime, 
 
 Can vote just here and now; 
 The red man from the Western plains 
 
 Can cast a ballot too, 
 I think it's awful that the men 
 
 Should keep your vote from you. 
 
 CHO. Oh! mother dear, etc.
 
 272 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 Oh! yes, the loafers, one and all, 
 
 Can vote*saloons in here, 
 I'd like to know the reason why 
 
 My faithful mother dear, 
 You toil, and save, and teach, and pray, 
 
 You pay your share of tax, 
 I'd like to knowfjust how the men 
 
 Dare take your vote from you. 
 
 CHO. Oh! mother dear, etc. 
 
 Oh! mother, when I see the Flag, 
 
 The emblem of the free, 
 I wonder how that any man 
 
 Can keep thy vote from thee. 
 The country's topsy turvy sure, 
 
 The people cry for bread, 
 God hears the suffering women cry 
 
 He says my curse is sped. 
 
 CHO. Oh mother dear, etc.
 
 A LOVE STORY 273 
 
 
 
 NEWSPAPER WORK. 
 
 In the year 1885 in December, I began the publication of a 
 little monthly paper called ''The Friend of Home". It was born 
 at a conference of temperance workers which included a Bap- 
 tist, a Methodist, a Christian, and a Unitarian; three men and 
 one woman. It was decided Effingham County, Illinois, needed 
 a temperance paper, and it was born and named. I was made 
 the Editor and the first number issued. 
 
 The County of Effingham had about twenty thousand people 
 many of whom were German Catholics and Lutherans, who 
 thought the saloon was all right. We had many people who 
 were dominant politically, and who were known as "Red Bush- 
 ers, and Whiskey, and Bull Flatters". They had emigrated 
 from the South in an early day and had always thought drink 
 necessary to their existence, and the saloon was their favorite 
 camping spot when coming to town. We had the usual quota 
 of men and women who were inert, or who stood with the liquor 
 element. Ten German Catholic Churches and ten German Lu- 
 theran Churches were solidly against us. These were largely 
 of the Agricultural class, set in their opinions and slow to 
 change; declaring for moderation; good people, but not awake, 
 and wrong on this vital question of Temperance, Total Absti- 
 nence, and Prohibition. 
 
 Politically the saloon was dominant. No man ever obtained 
 an office in Effingham County except he paid tribute to the sa- 
 loons. If he had to be careful of both sides, saloon and temper- 
 ance, there were always men to be found who could be sent to 
 doubtful quarters to swear he was sound and say, "He drank 
 with me, or he is all right on temperance, and tell things to "fix 
 up his fences", but he has to be careful, he is all right,"; and 
 so the saloon took toll of all and dominated all. Many feared 
 to lose a dollar, and they kept still and clogged the way. 
 
 I never did believe in fooling away time, so I began the 
 best I knew how to wage a radical war on Saloons, Saloon pe- 
 titioners, bondsmen, voters, drinkers and drunkards. I pub- 
 lished the names of all I could find, engaged in keeping up or 
 bracing up saloons. Samuel Boles, Horace Greely and Wilbur 
 Story, I regarded as model editors and I patterned after them
 
 274 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 as well as I could. I published Common evils before Tarbell. 
 Lawson, Hurst, Munsey, Everybody's, et al. I became 
 a deeply despised individual. One local paper "raked me" 
 regularly. I hit back, of course, but it was four to my one 
 for The Friend of Home was a monthly paper, but I 
 tried to make it count. I had occasional attacks from other pa- 
 pers; some stood by in silence; one never feared to say a good 
 word for me in a round about way. I was whipped twice by 
 saloon keepers; I was shot at by the son of a saloon keeper; I 
 was reviled in all sorts of places; there was a feeling about that 
 I would be killed. I am certain many at that time would have 
 enjoyed attending my funeral. 
 
 I did not forget ' 'He who lays his hand to the plough must 
 not look back"; I remembered Lovejoy; I remembered "Lay on 
 McDuff and damned be he who first says hold enough." I said 
 "If I am killed the saloon will close in this County. The price 
 is not too high." I remembered I was no better than the mar- 
 tyrs and the saints, who gave their lives for the sake of right- 
 eousness, and I forged ahead as best I could. Socially, me and 
 mine were ostracised. That which hurt me most was that 
 others had to be punished for me. But the one who suffered 
 most my Husband kept still, and I kept on, but I shed many 
 bitter tears and I called on God continually f Or help, for I surely 
 needed it. 
 
 I publishedjthe names on our six saloon petitions. These 
 were supposed to be a majority of the legal voters of the town- 
 ship where the saloons were. My! what an outrage, and what 
 an uproar. There were Church rows, family quarrels, neigh- 
 borhood rackets, etc, for I caught all sorts on these petitions. 
 Everybody had something to talk about and there was much 
 jibing and joking, which is awful sometimes, especially when a 
 Church member was caught on a document like that, or a man 
 who played temperance, or one whose wife was temperance and 
 thought her husband was. I always called a saloon a ' 'Hell 
 Hole" and everybody's name was under that. I finally broke 
 up the saloons on petition as men would no longer sign these 
 documents. It was a custom to take the saloon petition to 
 Church to get signatures. When Saloons broke up on petition, 
 men organized the settlement as a municipality and kept the
 
 A LOVE STORY 275 
 
 saloons; several places had not enough inhabitants and they 
 even undertook to take in some of the farms to get enough 
 people, and there was a big row, for the farmers refused to pay 
 town taxes; but they fixed it up somehow finally; and kept their 
 saloons. Shumway, a small town in the county held out on pe- 
 titions the longest. I finally broke them up by publishing a bio- 
 graphical sketch of all the saloon petitioners, which I made 
 after careful inquiry and certification of the correctness of the 
 same. It was severe and funny too, and no one would ever 
 again sign a Shumway saloon petition, so they organized as a 
 village. They had a red headed German M. E. Preacher there 
 once. He did fine work but he was moved on to another place, 
 and those who came later feared, and they had suffered in 
 other states in temperance fights. 
 
 Petitions for saloons ended in Effingham County. The fight 
 was an educational one. A German man said to me some years 
 after this fight, "Do you know I was once so mad at you I 
 wanted to kill you"? "No" I said, "what had I been doing to 
 you"? "Oh", he said with a laugh, "you said some things of 
 me, but the madder I got and the more I thought, the more I 
 saw you were right and I was wrong"; and at that time he had 
 grown to be a Prohibitionist. His wife was an ardent member 
 of the W. C. T. U. and his children were all pledged and work- 
 ers. He was of the German M. E.'s and the red headed 
 preacher had no doubt prodded his conscience with my lance. 
 
 When I found men drunk I published their names, high or 
 low though they were. I published the saloon men who sold to 
 them. I denounced the men who voted for saloons. I published 
 railroad men, until their women were afraid to talk to or to be 
 seen talking to me. I knew of men who were dragged from their 
 beds drunk, and put on their engines, and firemen sometimes ran 
 passenger trains; but that man would lose his job if found out, 
 and that would be awful. I said to one who reproached me, "I 
 read the other day of a passenger train loaded heavily that was 
 wrecked and the most of the passengers were roasted alive. 
 The cause was a drinking engineer. One man had better lose 
 his job than twenty men and women be roasted alive". And 
 so I shut them up, and life was safer I think, because of The 
 Friend of Home.
 
 276 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 I broke up the robbing of railroad men in saloons by pub- 
 lishing an account of how meal books were used for gambling 
 and drinking, instead of for food, and railroad men gave me the 
 information. I made a statement to the Manager of the Van- 
 dalia Railroad that brought an official order that broke it up in 
 toto. I lost more than one drinking Railroad man his job, and 
 brought some of the local officials on the "green carpet". I had 
 once to call the town Marshall to take a Railroad Man, that stop- 
 ped me on the street and threatened to smash my face. 
 
 The day the Friend of Home was issued the town was in a 
 buzz. It seemed to me sometimes I could smell sulphur and see 
 blue blazes. I hated to go on the street; there was such feeling; 
 I would rather have been like Phil Sheridan "twenty miles 
 away", but I had to face my own music. Ridicule and contempt 
 were poured upon me. I was published as the ' 'laughing stock 
 of the County". I guess I was too, but "he who laughs 
 last laughs best"; I laughed last, I always took my Bible at 
 such times and hunted for a defence, and I usually found it, 
 and took comfort too. I found the Apostle Paul had been in 
 just such straits, since he wrote in his own defence this: "lam 
 a fool for Christ's sake". "As a fool receive me." By the 
 foolishness of preaching, many are converted." I said, "Who 
 can understand what the early Christians felt when beaten, ex- 
 cept one who has also been beaten for righteousness sake"? 
 When my life was attempted I remembered the martyrs and 
 saints, and I felt I was near to them and understood them, be- 
 cause I had been brought to face death also. So I took comfort 
 and strength and went forward after every entrenchment of 
 the saloon, the priest, the preacher, the Church member, the 
 voter, the drunkard, anybody who upheld the saloon, I was 
 threatened with all sorts of things; once I was arrested, once at 
 the instance of a saloon keeper, but I beat him on trial. 
 
 A man who had lain drunk in the streets of his village came 
 to threaten me, with a J. P. with him. Poor fellow! he died 
 of his drinking finally and was buried by the County, and his 
 poor wife who stuck to him is a County charge, and yet, he 
 was once a good citizen. And that is the fate that has over- 
 taken so many of our drinkers. A saloon keeper sent a J. P. 
 to see me about an item I used concerning the way he adult-
 
 A LOVE STORY 277 
 
 erated his liquor. I asked the good old gentleman a question, 
 and it was droll to see how quickly he left my house, There 
 were many funny things though; I laugh now to think of the 
 men who came to me to "beg off"; they had been drunk and 
 they thought I knew it. Some feared to lose good jobs; others 
 dreaded the jibing and exposure; they assumed I knew, and I 
 assumed I did, and I left them off, but not without the best 
 advice I had on hand. I learned what is meant by "The wicked 
 flee when no man pursueth". I think some thought I knew 
 everything. I did not, but I knew a great deal. Some of our 
 reformed men would put me onto things and most unexpected 
 matters came to my knowlege. Once a saloon keeper's wife 
 whose husband beat her face to a pulp, told me of it, and he got 
 a good write up. And all sorts of people told me things, and 
 I'd verify them, and then use them. Some times I heard people 
 talking, then I'd find a fact, and out of the two I had a tale to 
 verify and use, aud no one could tell where or how I got the 
 story. I published the law; I used ridicule, argument, every- 
 thing I knew how to handle, to break up the saloon evil, and 
 make life sweet and safe. 
 
 "The Little Red School House Fight" in Illinois gave me a 
 fine opportunity. A local saloon Lutheran Preacher published 
 three virulent articles on the Godless free schools of Illinois in a 
 local paper. I used him up in one issue and made him the 
 laughing stock of our county, and he was so ashamed of being 
 beaten out by a woman, that he left our vicinity inside of two 
 months from the time I "riddled" him. He had sailed so high 
 and mighty, as the champion of opposition to free schools that 
 he was swelled with pride, and, like Darius Green, he hit the 
 ground with a mighty bump when he landed. The Lutherans 
 were mad at him now, because he had made himself and them, 
 ridiculous by these three articles, and so he fell, and so he left 
 us. Some of our people were hilarious over it. 
 
 I had many dear, good friends who helped me and prayed 
 for me, and who said dear, kind things to me. They held me 
 up, and I think the Holy Angels helped me too. The children 
 came each month and folded the one thousand copies of the 
 paper and so helped it on, and they called it theirs, and they 
 were the great hope after all. I knew the saying "Paul plants,
 
 278 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 Apollos waters, God giveth the increase". We all worked who 
 loved the cause in Effingham County; we all did what we could; 
 The Friend of Home did what it could, Truth grew; and there 
 came a day when I felt I no longer needed to do this hard work; 
 the seed sown was ripening; the harvest was coming on; our 
 children were studying Scientific Temperance in the public 
 schools; the question of Saloons, or no Saloons, total abstinence 
 from alchoholics as beverages was on a right basis the world 
 over; the young men were beginning to vote right; old political 
 ties hung loosely on voters necks, and one day Effingham went 
 dry! The most sanguine were astonished and said it was a 
 miracle, but it was the result of long, long hard years of pa- 
 tient, untiring labor by a few people and by our children. Some 
 of our Germans began to vote dry tickets. A young man was 
 elected County Superintendent of Schools on a vote as clean as 
 any could demand. There was not a smirch of the saloon, or 
 even tobacco on him. He is one of ours, Democrats, Republicans, 
 Socialists and Prohis joined to do that, and we now know just 
 how to get the sort of officials we want; all right forces must 
 join to vote. Our County is dry on the line of the Illinois Cen- 
 tral except Effingham which had her saloons return, and at a 
 loss to everybody except the saloon house renters who draw 
 rent from the brewers, who do not even get their rent back. 
 But when we vote again some day they will be gone for good; 
 God sent them on us as a scourge to cure some who could not 
 be cured any other way. All of our saloons will soon be ended, 
 there is a rising tide against them, that is, in fact, the Voice of 
 God the world over. The Friend of Home did its part with the 
 faithful ones who have labored, and still labor on in this little 
 County, and the world over. 
 
 The best of all is, that I who was hated and despised and 
 ridiculed, have been forgiven, and everywhere kindly friends 
 and kindly faces and voices greet me among all classes of our 
 people. And I rejoice and thank God, who sustained me, and let 
 me live to see this better day, and by the eye of faith permits 
 me to see a better day that is coming as fast as it can when 
 there will be no saloons, no drunkards, no ruined boys and no 
 need to do the hard work The Friend of home was obliged to 
 tackle.
 
 A LOVE STORY 279 
 
 WORK AND ITS VALUES. 
 
 One of the stupidest things that ever got set in the head of 
 man was that it is a punishment to labor. I was once discuss- 
 ing this subject with an old farmer Baptist gentleman, a king 
 bee in his settlement, and I said, "Now suppose Adam had 
 toafed all his life instead of having to work, how much better 
 would we be than our tramps today' ' ? He laughed and laughed. 
 He had positive ideas of men working and, I suppose, had heard 
 it preached always that the ground has been cursed and Adam 
 made to sweat and work as a punishment, but he believed in 
 work and knew its values, and the incongruity made him laugh 
 hard. I laughed too, for it was a ridiculousidea. 
 
 The man or woman who imagines work is a punishment is 
 out of harmony with Nature. The whole of a man is made for 
 work, and nothing in him develops without it; brains, muscle, 
 tissue and affection, all of him. The man or woman who does 
 not work must live by his or her wits, and they are poor wits, 
 and as a general thing they bring their owners to mischief and 
 trouble in'plenty. The hand that is muscleless belongs to one of 
 the idle, or the dependent poor. The most beautiful hand on man 
 or woman is the hand that has character, that is developed, 
 and it is the hand that works. 
 
 What ails so many of our young people to-day is the fact 
 that they do not work, and all the schooling fond parents give 
 them, excusing them from all labor that they may have time 
 for music or learning in books, is well wasted for the boy and 
 girl who does not work, doesn't know how, and can not apply 
 what he learns. The boys and girls who work, generally ' 'get 
 on", and do not get into mischief. 
 
 The farm bred boy, and girl is happy, for with them work 
 is a matter of course. The hope of the little lad is to drive 
 horses and wagon and plough, and do all the other farm work. 
 The boys take pride in it. They do not lose in school, for with 
 less time spent, they master more and can apply it, hence they 
 are in demand and excel; the girls wash, iron, scrub, bake, make 
 garden, raise poultry, and as workers are superior; as wives, 
 and mothers they excel. Boys and girls of the country places, 
 teach school too. The manifold work of the farm keeps even the
 
 280 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 little children busy, and work is a real pleasure in their eyes. 
 So they follow the natural law and work, and that leads to suc- 
 cess in whatever they lay their hands on. 
 
 I once had a calf to load and I asked a young man, ' 'Were you 
 raised on the farm"? "Yes", he said. "Then" said I, "come 
 load a calf for me". He knew just how to do it. Your lad in 
 the town takes athletics in the Y. M. C. A., he runs and swims* 
 but he don't like to do work as a rule. Hence, it is that work, 
 not play and amusement, results in the best. Match games, and 
 traveling about from city to city, thus makes mere work, dull to 
 our youngster. The real work of the farm with an object of value 
 at the end of every task is the best developer of the child. If I 
 had children I'd hie me to a farm. I told some men once that 
 I was not in favor of sending anyone to Legislature or Congress 
 who had not had a training in real work. We examine all 
 criminals and record all marks, their thumbs, particularly, and 
 I'd demand for my ballot if I could vote, a man who could and 
 would work. I'd say to him hold up your hands and show that 
 labor has given them character or I'd not vote for him. Other- 
 wise politicians are like to live by their wits, and then they sell 
 us out. So I'd demand the man who works to serve in the law 
 making bodies of our land. There can be no true develpoment 
 of a man or woman who does not work.
 
 A LOVE STORY 281 
 
 THE BLACKSMITH. 
 
 "Oh, the blacksmith's a fine sturdy fellow, 
 Hard his hand, but his Heart's true and mellow; 
 See him stand there, his huge bellows blowing, 
 With his great brawny arms bare and free." 
 
 From the German. 
 
 See the fire on his forge how it's roaring, 
 And the iron on his anvil is glowing, 
 Clang, Clang, Clang, hear his hammer is ringing 
 As the metal he shapes at his will. 
 
 Oh, we love at thy shop door to linger, 
 Hear the roar of thy fire like a singer, 
 Up the chimney in hoarse accents calling 
 On the sprits of earth, air and sea. 
 
 Oh, thy heart like thy fire is a warm one, 
 And thy hand, tho though tis hard, it will harm none; 
 May thy deeds like a hammer shape goodness 
 Heated white like the steel in thy forge. 
 
 "Oh, the blacksmith's a fine sturdy fellow 
 Hard his hand, but his heart's true and mellow," 
 May his forge, hammer, anvil and bellows 
 With their music our hearts melt in one.
 
 282 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 WORK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 I always taught children that if I had them in my house the 
 boys would have to take turn about with the girls at house 
 work, if there was no other work for them to do. To let boys 
 be waited on by girls and women is one of the things that ulti- 
 mate too often in dissolved households and Divorce Courts. I 
 used often to quiz my little flock of boys and girls thus: "How 
 many of you boys pick up your clothes, clean or dirty, and put 
 them away? Hold up your hands". My, what a few hands 
 went up? "How many of you girls and your Mothers pick up 
 your brother's clothes, clean or dirty, and put them away"? 
 My, what a lot of hands went up! And I'd say "Why don't 
 you boys pick up your own clothes"? And they'd grin. "And 
 you girls make your brothers pick up and put away their own 
 clothes; don't you pick up their clothes any more". It makes 
 boys domineering over women, it makes them despise and be- 
 little the work of women to be waited on like this, and the boy 
 needs the culture of order and industry, as much as the girl 
 does, and we harm him as boy and man, when we have things 
 otherwise. The boys on the farms have outside work to do and 
 they help the women more, so they understand the divisions of 
 labor is equal. 
 
 If I had boys and girls in town, the boys should serve their 
 turn in the kitchen and house week and week about, with the 
 girls. The training of the senses is not damaged but aided by 
 the work of the house. American men are the most ingenious 
 of all men, and are more of them adepts in housework than the 
 men of any other Nation. The Japs who whipped the Russians 
 and beat old "Adam Zad" to a finish are handy at domestic 
 work. In the towns the baby boy is sent upon the street to 
 run up and down on his tricycle or bicycle. He must as soon 
 as he is able, go to base ball, foot ball, and fish and hunt and loaf 
 and stand at police trials to listen, and he fights and gets to 
 drinking often and we wonder why. He runs till he is worn 
 out and then comes in to throw his garments helter skelter for 
 the women and girls to pick up, and to growl and order his 
 Mother and sister about for what he wants to eat, drink and 
 wear. The little man needs the discipline of work in the house
 
 A LOVE STORY 283 
 
 for his soul's and body's good, and we sin against his sister and 
 him, when we neglect or refuse to put him in the traces. The 
 colt that always wears a halter makes the best horse. He 
 never has to be broken in; he learns every day from the time 
 his life began, and so of the boys. Let the howlers about di- 
 vorce spend their breath and strength on this phase of the di- 
 vorce question and so help to end the matter sooner. I have 
 known many men as used to house work as women. They 
 make good men and kind, good husbands and brothers, and I 
 never saw one who's abilities were damaged, on the other hand 
 they were enlarged. 
 
 Emerson wrote his first poetry to a metre that fit with the 
 noise of the knives he scoured in his Mother's kitchen, and he 
 washed dishes; she kept boarders to make her own and 
 and her children's daily bread. Yet he wrote "The Prob- 
 lem", a Masterpiece among poems and of the English language. 
 He and his brother had one coat between them and went to 
 school alternate days, and served in the house and kitchen. 
 Who wrote more marvelously or deeper, higher, wiser, or more 
 musically than he? And he is one of many. Boys and girls 
 both need the discipline of the house work. Herein lies the 
 solution of the so called servant question. The Lord has taken 
 away the "hired girl," and the sooner people see the the reason 
 why and set their children to work, the better for the boys and 
 girls. This is why the farm is the great and ideal place for 
 the rearing of children. All have to work. It is the proper 
 thing and this is why the school of the farm turns out lawyers, 
 doctors, statesmen, reformers, preachers, men and women of 
 affairs, and why the farmer's sons and daughters are "in the 
 saddle", the world over.
 
 284 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 A WOMAN ON THE SUPREME BENCH. 
 Debora, a Supreme Judge, and God's Mouthpiece. 
 
 It is curious that the male Theologues who study the Bible 
 continually, know so little of the women of the old, old Book. 
 From Eve, to the woman of Revelation, they fill large space 
 and play most important roles. These are so many it would take 
 a book to write them up. 
 
 Tuere was one who played the most conspicuous role of any 
 mentioned. She was the Fourth Judge in Israel; and may be 
 read of in full in 4th and 5th Judges, and in Josephus' wars of 
 the Jews. Debora was not only the Fourth Judge over Israel 
 and the mouthpiece of the Lord, she was as his prophet, she 
 gave the law to the people that they were required to obey. 
 She was the supreme Judge, and she must have been a good 
 one, for we are told the people came willingly to her to be 
 judged. She adjudicated all law suits of whatever sort in 
 Israel. She was also the Commander-in-chief of the Army of 
 Israel, and the Captain of the Israelitish Hosts, Barak, was 
 obliged to obey her orders. She went upon the Battle field and 
 directed the great fight against King Jabin and all his terrible 
 warriors under Sisera. Though the Israelites had perhaps ten 
 thousand men, and their enemy three hundred thousand and 
 all the implements of war, and horses and chariots, the battle 
 resulted in a complete rout for the enemies of Israel. The 
 Israelitish men were afraid and would have fled the battle, but 
 Debora commanded them to stay and fight; she forbade them 
 to leave the field, and they were obliged to obey her; she fore- 
 told the victory, and it came to pass as she said. 
 
 I once travelled eighty miles by night to hear a paper read 
 on the Lawyers of the Bible at the Illinois State Bar Association, 
 by an able Lawyer. I just wanted to see if he would mention 
 this woman Lawyer who was a Supreme Judge. Well, he did 
 not; he did not know anything about her, though she had the 
 best record by far of any Lawyers mentioned in the Bible, except 
 Moses that he wrote of. I knew him very well and I asked 
 him why he left Debora out, and asked that he put her in his
 
 A LOVE STORY 285 
 
 paper before it was published, but he never did, and he did not 
 know anything about this woman Lawyer of the Bible. 
 
 Debora was a married moman; her husband was Lapidoth, 
 who I can imagine to have been a first class gentleman, who 
 gave her good backing. Debora was able. The scathing re- 
 bukes she gave the tribes who refused to fight in that battle 
 against Jabin must have made them whince. Her descriptive 
 powers were fine. The song she and Barak sang together 
 before the people after the victory was magnificent, and should 
 be read to be appreciated. And yet she seemed to take great 
 pride that shea "Mother in Israel," had been the great force 
 under God to govern Israel and to settle that fight. The nara- 
 tive concludes. "And the land had peace for forty years". 
 This Mother in Israel was a good fighter. 
 
 I think that if the women of the world now had a chance to lay 
 their hands and hearts on this old world of ours, they could do 
 it good. We could destroy many evil things; we could bring 
 peace to many troubled conditions like that old ' 'heathen in Is- 
 rael" who was prophet, judge and commander in chief of Isra- 
 el's army. In all the years that women have been trying to 
 get their "rights" one argument has had great power against 
 them. That as a woman could not fight nor go to war, she had 
 no right to equality with man. This argument if Debora fought 
 should have no force. The Church and the Theologues have 
 been, and still are, the greatest opponents to woman's advance 
 along those lines for, though she is the main support of the 
 Church, she is barred out of its rights, powers and dignities, ex- 
 cept among the United Brethern, Unitarians, Universalists, 
 Free Methodists, Quaquers, the Weslyian Methodists and one 
 branch of the Baptist Church. All sorts of arguments for all 
 sorts of things the Church takes from the Bible, but the woman, 
 the Supreme Judge, the Commander-in-chief of the Army of 
 Israel, and a great warrior who went in the high places of the 
 battle field, and whom the Lord set over men to give orders 
 and be obeyed, they do not mention. It remained for women, 
 when they decided to read and expound the Bible, to discover 
 Debora, one of the great Commanders in War of the world, she 
 was a "Mother in Israel" like themselves. Like the wise woman 
 Diplomat of Abel, who was greater than all the men and women
 
 286 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 of a great City and saved it from plunder and loot, she was un- 
 known till discovered by the women. Anna Ella Carroll did as 
 much for our country as Debora did for her people, but she is 
 still unrecognized by an ungrateful people. 
 
 Jael, who slew Sisera, was a great and brave woman who 
 finished the battle Debora led by slaying Sisera. The Bible is 
 full of narratives of women who did great deeds of every sort 
 for the salvation of the people, but, like Debora, they are ig- 
 nored by the Church, and false doctrines taught that leave them 
 out, when the Lord set them over the people; women as well 
 as men were by the Lord placed to do the things necessary for 
 their peoples pretection and salvation in war.
 
 A LOVE STORY 287 
 
 I DECIDE A CASE IN COURT. 
 
 Judge Thomas Casey of Mt. Vernon, Ills., who sat upon 
 our Circuit bench, once submitted a case to me for decision. It 
 was the case of a twelve year old girl brought before the Court 
 on a Habeas Corpus by her Mother who was divorced, and re- 
 married and lived in town. The girl was with her Father who 
 was also remarried, and lived in the country. I could see the 
 Judge's feelings were with the Mother. He said, "I am both- 
 ered ; you decide that case for me". I did. I told him the girl's 
 Mother had once had a very bad character, that it was n6t of 
 the best now, (this he did not know) , and being in town would 
 draw temptation to the girl even if her Mother did not corrupt 
 her. That the girl in the country would have far better asso- 
 ciates and a better environment and would be safer in every way 
 and I was of the opinion that she was better off to stay where 
 she was, in the country, and with her Father. And that was 
 the way Judge Casey ruled it. The most of the actors in this 
 case have gone from life, so I can tell now, if no woman in 
 the United States ever sat upon the circuit bench, yet one woman 
 decided a case for the circuit bench that the Judge presiding 
 announced. Judge Casey was a fine chivalrous gentleman of 
 the old school; who delighted to honor women. 
 
 I asked the Mayor of Effingham once to resign in my favor. 
 He had been elected County Treasurer and was to resign as 
 Mayor, but, though I told him how his name would run down 
 the ages famous for having done such a strange and noble deed, 
 he would not. No, he would not. I wanted to be Mayor so I 
 could help Effingham be good, and break up a lot of bad things. 
 The Mayor in a sense is a Judge, and I coveted even so small a 
 bench to use for good. I think if the Lord set Debora upon 
 the Supreme Bench of Israel, the American man ought to place 
 women on the County and Circuit Benches. Yes, on the Supreme 
 Bench too. I am glad I did get to try my hand, the first woman, 
 I think, who decided a case for the Circuit Bench, in the United 
 States, or in the whole world for that matter.
 
 288 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 BE GOOD. 
 
 ' 'Be good dear child and let who will be clever, 
 DO noble things, not dream them all day long, 
 And so make life, death and that vast forever 
 One grand sweet song. ' ' Chas. Kingsley. 
 
 Frances Anne Kemble when in America giving Shakespear- 
 ian readings to vast audiences, was asked if she ever felt she 
 had a message for the great throngs to whom she spoke. She 
 said, "Ah, yes. When I looked upon them, there rises always 
 within me one thought for them. It always is ' 'Be good, be 
 good", and I breathe it on them Be Good". After all there is 
 nothing else in the world worth while, except to Be Good. Any 
 one who starts out on any other course than that will fetch up 
 in failure. I gave a little friend of mine a feather bed he 
 longed for and I said "Every night before you go to sleep, you 
 strike that bed three times with the flat of your hand and say 
 "Be good, be good, be good; nothing else is worth anything". 
 We need to constantly say this little text to ourselves until, like 
 the Pillar of Fire, it goes with us by day and night to guide 
 us to the goal of greatest good to ourselves and to others. How 
 much we sin against our children when we fail to teach them 
 to be good". The Holy Bible is full of it, and with admonitions 
 to parents to teach goodness on all occasions to their children. 
 I once gave my Band of Hope children at New Years a pretty 
 card, or wall hanger, white with gold letters and the Scripture 
 texts were on obedience to parents, and advice to parents to 
 teach their children the divine law. So many said to me ' 'I did 
 not know the Bible had so much on this subject". The good 
 old Book is full of help, and the song it sings that is greater 
 than all the rest is "Be good, Be good".
 
 A LOVE STORY 289 
 
 RIDDLES. 
 
 In the United States of America is an old gentleman, a good 
 old soul no doubt for he preaches every week from a high place 
 of righteousness, but oh, he is so bigoted and contrary like 
 Janus he seems to look two ways at once. In righteousness he 
 looks forward and backward, not forward and upward ; he de- 
 nounces the ballot for women, state wide Prohibition, also de- 
 clares the Mormons are obedient to the law against polygamy; 
 and praises to the top notch those who denounce public schools. 
 How comes he to be so badly mixed up? He ought, when he 
 preaches righteousness, declare for the ballot for women, for 
 it is just and right; for state wide prohibition, for it is just and 
 right; and he ought to believe the testimony of Ex Senator 
 Cannon on the Mormon question if he will not investigate for 
 himself; and he ought to stand against any who denounce our 
 free schools ; but he cannot or will not see. However, the women 
 are getting the ballot; the states are going to have prohibitary 
 laws, the Mormons will have laws passed to bring them to time; 
 the free schools will be strengthened, so what will he do? It's 
 curious men's prejudices stand a solid bar between them and 
 the knowledge of truth*. His pride is greater than his desire 
 for' knowledge and wisdom, and it will get a fall if he lives long 
 enough. Why do men who preach righteousness stand like 
 balky horses, and refuse to even consider truth when it appears? 
 
 When Phillip of Macedon ordered Beaucephalus, the lifiof.ouke 
 able stallion,' to be taken to the herds, Alexander, the Great; 
 his son, plead that the magnificent creature be given to him, 
 saying he could control the great horse. Alexander had ob- 
 served that Beaucephalus was frightened at the shadows cast 
 by his own body, and that of his attendants, for they stood with 
 their backs to the sun. Taking the great horse by the bits 
 Alexander faced him to the sun, and handled him in triumph 
 amid the plaudits of the multitude. If men would always face 
 the truth and accept its full glory, the shadows they cast would 
 be behind, and not before them, and their fears would fly away, 
 and the best could come. Most people are scared by shadows 
 of their own making and so fail in great deeds. The good old 
 gentleman I mention seems to be one of this sort. He needs to
 
 290 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 turn his Hobby Horse around. The riddle is why don't he? 
 
 I knew another old fellow who caters to refined ladies in 
 fashion and literature, or thought he did. He was a most de- 
 termined opponent of suffrage and felt called upon to fight it. 
 He was mean enough to publish a mess of lies about the W. C. 
 T. U., and when they kindly protested and sent him facts, he 
 turned up his nose at them, and refused to make amends. The 
 Brewers published his remarks far and near to advance the sale 
 of their goods, buying whole pages of newspapers to this end. 
 Unluckily for himself he published a Medicine Company that he 
 said put alcohol and opium in their medicine for women. The 
 Medicine Company sued him and obtained large damages, and 
 the old gentleman had to eat a dish of crow in his own publica- 
 tion that must have made him feel sick. I had to laugh to see 
 what "a muss" his lies got him into. However, he was not 
 yet 'cured, so he hired some people to write a lot of lies about 
 the voting of women, and the women voters of Colorado: Why! 
 the air was thick with paper missiles from the hands of women 
 and men that, bombarded him and his publication, and he ob- 
 tained large results in the shape of a depleted subscription list, 
 in addition to rebukes of all sorts, and denunciation. His lying 
 writer was contumeliously jounced out <?f a club he dearly loved 
 to belong to, finally, and his lies at present have no market. 
 The Editor of the said publication is having to advertise stren- 
 uously, and is as mild as a sucking dove on the woman's voting 
 x'XJhT&on now. Since then California gave her women the ballot 
 and their first vote cast received the admiration and commenda- 
 tion of the Country, and many men objectors have been con- 
 verted. The first jury of women in California had a man op- 
 ponent of the ballot to sit on, and they showed a fine sense of 
 justice when, in spite of his opposition to women's voting, they 
 f o und him innocent of the charge against him. 
 
 The way these good old men behave is a real riddle. Who 
 will solve it?
 
 A LOVE STORY 291 
 
 DAVID, AND THE BEAR AND THE LION. 
 
 The Bible says, David, a youth, came down to the camp of 
 Saul, where for forty days and nights Saul and the Israelites 
 had been taking the insults of Goliath and the Philistines, and 
 shaking in fear upon their knees and praying the prayers of 
 cowards before the Lord. David's brothers told him to go home 
 as he was a naughty boy come down to see the battle, and that 
 he'd get hurt. This ruddy cheeked lad was ashamed of what 
 he saw his people enduring, and the insults of Goliath woke his 
 wrath. "What", said he "will the King give to the man that 
 slays that ungodly giant"? "Oh, a gold chain and his daughter 
 to wife and many other good things". David sought Saul and 
 said "I will slay Goliath". Said Saul, "You can not. Goliath 
 is a man of war from his youth up and you are but a child". 
 "But", urged the lad, "A lion and bear came to kill my fath- 
 ers sheep and I plucked the lion by the beard and slew him, 
 and the bear I slew, and the Lord who gave the lion and the 
 bear into my hands will also deliver this Philistine to me. I 
 will slay him to prove there is a God in Israel". What a scene! 
 A whole army of men with Saul the King at their head taking 
 insults to themselves and their God for forty days and nights, 
 and trembling on their knees, as cowards! Here came the 
 ruddy shepherd lad who had gazed into the blue vault of the sky 
 at night till he knew no fear; to whom all nature was as an open 
 book; He was greater than all that multitude, and because 
 there was no one else to take hold of the case in hand, Saul said 
 ' 'Take my armour and my shield bearer and go and slay Goliath". 
 David said, ' 'Your armour does not fit me, and your shield bearer 
 I do not wish". I am always amused when I think of the 
 wrath Goliath showed when he saw the lad David come out to 
 meet him, and his insults to the lad make me smile. I rejoice 
 in the calm faith of the boy who said "I will slay you to prove 
 there is a God in Israel", and clad only in the scant garment 
 of a shepherd lad, with his sling, and the pebbles he used to fetch 
 his sheep to his call, he smote the Philistine Giant and he fell, 
 and that war ended in a rout for the Philistines. This is a good 
 story, if it is a fable as some say, that of the She Bears, is; both 
 are of great value.
 
 292 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 Our youths to-day have opportunities for good educations, 
 but they lack the education that David had. Our need to day 
 is as great but we do not use our youth. We dissipate them in 
 foolishness, and we get the consequences. Oh, how much we 
 need men with the faith and high courage and knowledge of 
 David. Our great College centers have become the seats of 
 high jinks and mop heads, and the grill room and beer steins. 
 Their ideas have filtered down to the High Schools and from 
 there run to the bottom of the School grades. We are to blame 
 not our youth. Not a college in all the land to day with all their 
 high claims, and their millions of endowments, can compare in 
 results with the education the boys of the Ancient days se- 
 cured in their homes, and under the stars and in the fields. As 
 in the ancient days, close contact with Nature produces the 
 greatest minds. To-day the farms send forth our ablest men 
 and women, and the small struggling Colleges and Normal 
 Schools the ablest scholars and leaders. 
 
 Let us return to the conditions that produce men and 
 women of righteousness and high courage. There are Goliaths a 
 plenty these days, and bears and lions, as there were in David's 
 day. It will not hurt to teach our children, the story of the 
 Lion and the Bear, and of Goliath and David; it will help to 
 make them men and women worth while.
 
 A LOVE STORY 293 
 
 A COUNTY PRESIDENT. 
 
 For many years I have had charge of a County for the W. 
 C. T. U. of Illinois. A county is six miles square. By town- 
 ships, by school districts by towns and villages, and by voting 
 precincts we organize and chase the enemies of home .and child- 
 hood. We fight the drink habit, its open exponent the Saloon, 
 the brothel, gambling, and vice of all kinds; these we seek to 
 tear down; we build up by teaching abstinence from alcoholics, 
 Scientific temperance, Purity, Suffrage, Enforcement of law etc. 
 -ad. lib. 
 
 ' 'Upspringing from the ruined old 
 We see the new." 
 
 . Everywhere the hearts of men opened to the plea of the 
 women, and our laws for teaching children Scientific temperance 
 are on the books of every state and territory, in the District of 
 Columbia, and, thanks to the keen watch care of the women, 
 are in fairly good operation. 
 
 All public schools, West Point and Annapolis included, must 
 teach this subject. The Missionaries everywhere in foreign 
 and home lands work with us. Many belong. We have Bands 
 of Hope, Loyal Temperance Legions, Medal Contests, Chat- 
 auquas, etc. Out of our song books we set the hands and feet 
 and voices of children to keep time to a Great Reform. We 
 inspire their minds, we warm their hearts, we enthuse them; 
 therefore, we see what we see the world over, the tremendous, 
 victorious march of a Great Reform, soon to be accomplished. 
 
 "There is a spirit", and it is of God, and we cherish and 
 nurture it the world over, hence we march to victory. Every- 
 where our Ships come in; the bread on the waters comes back. 
 We women who take the Counties are expected to run them 
 financially in addition to all other of the lines of work. In my 
 County of Effingham, Illinois, so many used to sneer and scoff 
 when our children marched with banners and song through the 
 streets of our towns. They joked, when we gathered them 
 together in Rallies at the County seat, and sang and spoke and 
 had prizes for merit, and a good time generally. Around and 
 around the County our meetings ran, thousands of speeches 
 were said, 200 medals were won by contests and thousands
 
 294 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 given out. I drove for years from church to school house and 
 open places, speaking; others came to help and we held on to the 
 Lord and labored; time passed and the children began to grow 
 up, then more children were born making an intense sentiment; 
 our towns began to go dry; political conditions began to change. 
 No one laughs or jeers or sneers now. Not in vain our children 
 sang "Tremble King Alcohol, we shall grow up", nor Frances 
 Willard's words "Saloons, Saloons, Saloons must go". 
 
 There is no escape for the Saloon now, it is already going. 
 When Effingham went dry people said it was a miracle. It was 
 supposed to be an impossible thing, but the long hard years 
 and faith in God, told, we got a dry town as a result of our labors, 
 with plenty of financial help from consecrated pocket-books. 
 "In the morning sow thy seed; in the evening withhold not thy 
 hand, and in due season if ye faint not ye shall reap". We 
 sowed; we faltered not; the reaping is on. 
 
 The women who did the hard work had no time for selfish 
 indulgence either of time or money, and they took joy in the 
 work and shaped the destiny of boys and girls, now men and 
 women, and of children to be, and we shaped our County too, 
 and the State and the Nation and civilization. We did not have 
 an easy time; sometimes churches and school houses were closed 
 to us and we had to take the open, or clear out old houses or 
 hire places to hold our meetings in. I spoke one evening by a 
 railroad track when I had to compete with trains. Our County 
 with twenty thousand population always averaged 20 or 24 
 saloons. We had many Germans who thought ' 'temperance is 
 foolish", but we kept at our work. We scattered thousands of 
 pages of Catholic total abstinence literature; 1500 Catholic total 
 abstinence Medals, Catholic total abstinence song books, held 
 meetings in their strong holds, analyzed their beer before them, 
 and sang and spoke to them, and, as a divine spark resides in 
 every human heart, we always touched some hearts and our 
 friends grew. 
 
 A County President of the W. C. T. U. has much to do 
 seeing after all such work. At the last election in the County 
 we got for our County Superintendent of Schools a young man 
 who had been a Medal Contestant, who is a good Christian and 
 is a total abstainer from all narcotic poisons. I think I may
 
 A LOVE STORY 295 
 
 challenge the United States for a better record than ours. He 
 came in without a taint upon him of the Saloon or Narcotics. 
 He was our choice and the way opened for his election which 
 means so much to our homes and to our children. That was no 
 happen so. The Harvest of our sowing was ripe and the Lord 
 had the man ready for us. These are strange things, but they 
 are true and we have others as wonderful happening. The 
 political outlook is rapidly changing so we expect more and more 
 to follow. 
 
 In my place I have done my best as a County President, as 
 all the other county Presidents of the United States have tried 
 to do. 
 
 The United States leads all the lands in temperance work. 
 Great Britain does nobly; France is fine; Emperor William has 
 organized Good Templary in his Navy. He said at a banquet 
 not long since the Nation that used the least alcoholics would 
 win in the next war. Navy men who sit in Conning Towers, 
 must have brains free from Alcoholics as Science has demon- 
 strated, and as electricity has demanded. We are out of the 
 sentimental stage; we have reached the solemn fact that Alco- 
 hol is a poison, at war with a man's nature, forever. 
 
 The W. C. T. U. has done more than any other agency to 
 press matters on, and we sing with joy, "The Temperance 
 Army is a gaining, gaining, gaining, gaining ground." The 
 ballot for women which means so much to all reforms draws 
 near because of us. The W. C. T. U. awakened the hearts of 
 men and women and "Out of the heart are the issues of life." 
 "Civilization is the influence of good women" says Emerson. 
 A higher civilization is on its way because the good women of 
 all the lands are bound together for God and Home and Every 
 Land, and the County Presidents, who keep hold of Counties and 
 townships and villages and voting precincts, and who follow the 
 "do everything" policy have been doing their best and are a 
 tremendously potent power. I am glad I am a County Presi- 
 dent of the W. C. T. U. It has enriched my life and made me 
 a means to help on great good to the world.
 
 296 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 DRUM CHORUS. 
 
 WRITTEN FOR A BOY'S DRUM CORPS IN A PARADE. 
 
 Oh rub-a-dub, dub, 
 
 Just hear the hub-bub, 
 
 The temperance soldiers are coming, 
 
 The Rally is near, their music we hear, 
 
 For to fight the saloons they are drumming; 
 
 Rub-a-dub, on they come, 
 
 With the gay rolling drum, 
 
 Our hearts to its music are swelling 
 
 For full of good cheer, we know as we hear 
 
 'Tis the doom of the dram shop the're telling. 
 
 Oh rub-a-dub, 
 Come, swell the hub-bub, 
 That the drummers are each one creating; 
 Let the shrill fife sing clear 
 "Loyal Legions are here" 
 All united to make a commotion, 
 A That shall swell as it grows, 
 Until it overthrows 
 The horrid saloon we are fighting. 
 
 Oh rub-a-dub-dub, 
 
 We'll make a hub-bub, 
 
 That shall spread all over our Nation; 
 
 Yes, we'll waken the foe, his dram shop shall go, 
 
 And we'll drive it clear out of Creation; 
 
 Ho, rub-a-dub-dub, 
 
 Let's make a hub-bub 
 
 By drumming and fifing and speaking 
 
 Saloons they must go saloons they SHALL go, 
 
 Ho, rub-a-dub-dub, rub-a-dub'l.
 
 A LOVE STORY 297 
 
 EDGAR ALLEN POE. 
 
 Some Europeans of the literary class call Poe the only great 
 original writer of America. Robert Louis Stevenson used him 
 as a model in many ways, and his "Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde" 
 was patterned after Poe's mysterious and most gruesome tales. 
 At the Poe Centennial Celebration in London, Conan Doyle 
 honestly owned, Poe had been the model for his peculiar line 
 of detective writing. The murders of the Rue Morgue, The- 
 Black Cat, The Mystery of Marie Rouget, The Purloined Letter, 
 Mr. Wilson and others are good patterns for learners in that 
 direction. 
 
 Kipling has not owned his debt to Poe, but The Phantom 
 Rickshaw, Bimi, The Recrudescence of Imray, and others of his 
 tales show clearly the pattern from which they are cut, and 
 that pattern is Poe. The Pit and Pendulum, Legia, The Fall of 
 the House of Usher, The Black Cat have been fertile parents of 
 many of the best physic stories written in this Century. Spiritu- 
 alism, so called, has a debt to pay to Edgar Allen too. Poe has 
 been a profound teacher of psychics to many, so he probably de- 
 serves the name of the most original American writer.^jijHis 
 brain was a golden pocket of ideas, but he reaped no temporal 
 returns. 
 
 I read Poe when a youngster, largely at night, and in bed. 
 I would read and shiver, and when my body would refuse to 
 keep awake, I'd drag the bed covers over my head to keep off 
 the fear of I 'knew not what, and go to sleep because I could no 
 longer keep awake. 
 
 Now, without a lantern I track about my farm at night. I 
 can hear the blue cat that scampers through the leaves and keeps 
 me company, but I cannot see her. I hear the pat, pat of the 
 feet of the two dogs who tag me down the steep hill, across the 
 bottom as dark as pitch, and up the hill again where I can just 
 see the dim shadows, but I feel no fear. I have exhausted fear 
 and superstition long, long ago, but I dearly love to read detec- 
 tive stories from Pinkerton to Burns as a result of reading Poe 
 in childhood, I think. Poe has been a good teacher of Detec- 
 tives. He wrote long before men followed that profession. 
 More than any other he taught us to read the secret workings
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 of men's minds and hearts and the mirror of their thoughts 
 in deeds and faces. He taught us how to observe the smallest 
 matters in our search for hidden mysteries, and the motives for 
 men's deeds. Sorrowful as was his life and its dismal ending, 
 he is likely to live forever as the greatest original American 
 writer.
 
 A LOVE STORY 299 
 
 JACKIE DAW. 
 
 ' 'See saw Jackie Daw 
 
 Sold his bed and laid on straw 
 
 Sold his bed and laid on grass 
 
 To buy his wife a looking glass.". Mother Goose. 
 
 I once bought a little Bureau at a sale and the glass was 
 gone. Where it had been, some pictures were pasted in, and a 
 thin muslin drapery hung over it. The woman it belonged to 
 had died. She had sons, and was the head of their house; but 
 no one put the glass, dear to every woman's heart, into the 
 empty frame for her. Her sons were big and able bodied, but 
 no one cared to put a glass in the frame for the old Mother. 
 
 I happened to think of Jackie Daw and I said, "Well, I 
 never thought of it before, but Jackie was a gentleman ; he was 
 willing to sleep on a hard bed to get something for his wife 
 that she wanted, and that was not absolutely essential". And 
 I said again "Jackie was a Gentleman", and I began to build 
 a monument to him in my thoughts. 
 
 There are some Jackie Daws now, but there might be niany 
 more of him everywhere, and I think he deserves a monument 
 anyhow.
 
 300 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 CHIVALRY. 
 
 We hear much these days, that chivalry towards women is 
 dead, as a sort of set back to those who demand advanced pri- 
 vileges for women. Well the Knight Errants are all dead too, 
 God rest their souls. The damsel or fair lady in distress, can 
 now call upon the law to aid her, so she brings suits in law for 
 all sorts of things, divorce, alienation of affection, for land, for 
 everything. Lawyers are plenty who will take cases up on 
 contingent fees, so the lady does not suffer, as in the days when 
 there were no laws for her relief and when she was a perpetual 
 minor, who had to take everything she got out of the hand of 
 some mere man. Her once sorry conditions in the old days, 
 raised up a class of men called Knight Errants, whose business 
 it was to relieve fair ladies in distress, for they had nothing 
 whatever to look to when in trouble. August Bebel says ' 'woman 
 was a slave before slavery began". There was otherwise no 
 relief for woman, poor creature that she was. 
 
 Now woman has a character of her own; men have at last 
 granted her certain rights in law, and she does not have to 
 weep and wail and wring her hands, and sell herself as once 
 was her sad lot The true Knight does not now a days, like 
 t)on Quixote, ride his nag in rusty iron clad, and seek fair ladies 
 in distress; nor, like Sir Walter Raleigh, spread his coat to be 
 walked upon by ladies' feet. Our modern Knights sit in Con- 
 gress, Legislatures and in Courts and in law offices, and the 
 lady gets relief. Men are as chivalrious as ever, yes more so, 
 and the most advanced woman has nothing to complain of, for 
 she meets with kind treatment and help from the best of men, 
 be they in high or lowly places. Chivalry is not dead; the cry 
 that it is defunct, is a mere figment of somebody's imagination. 
 Not all men were ever noble, nor all women; there are more 
 good men now than ever, and more good women, so the 
 foolish cry of chivalry, as to women. There is more of real 
 chivalry now than there ever was, for justice has taken the 
 place of sentimental interest. Chivalry is still alive among men.
 
 A LOVE STORY 301 
 
 THE BIBLE. 
 
 'Holy Bible, Book Divine, Precious Treasure thou art 
 
 mine' ' . Old Song. 
 
 I was rather surprised when in America a certain suposi- 
 tious wise man rose in the rostrum of a great University, sup- 
 ported by a great orthodox rich man, and said ' 'the Bible was a 
 book of myths and fables." I agree it has myths and fables in 
 it, notable the second and third chapters of Genesis rank with 
 the old myths and legends of the ancient peoples. But the 
 Bible gave us the Ten Commandments and the Beatitudes which 
 are the basis of our laws, and our best 'ideals of life here and 
 hereafter, and of God. 
 
 The Bible is poetry, history, law, geneology, biography. It 
 is a book of truth and everlasting principles, that all people and 
 every age must move up to and align with, to be at their best. 
 It is a book of wisdom that lifts up and inspires. It is full of 
 treasures that one need only seek to find. 
 
 Kipling, who captured the Noel prize of forty thousand 
 dollars not long ago, and who wrote that great Anthem The 
 Recessional, is versed in The Bible. If labor to-day knew 
 McAndrew's Hymn fully in spirit it could stand under the stars 
 and sing a hymn that would draw men to it. I often smile to 
 see the efforts of writers to imitate Kipling; if they had his 
 knowlege of Holy Writ they could bring forth works worth 
 while, I think. 
 
 All the great men and women of America of the past have 
 been lovers of the Bible and seekers after God. 
 
 The Bible is the Farmer's Book. In it he will find the most 
 beautiful Exposition of the life on the farm. The soil, good, 
 bad and indifferent, the tilling of the soil, the rain, the sun, 
 the heat, the winds, the cold and their relation to him, the seeds 
 of every kind, good, bad and indifferent; the sower who is the 
 farmer; the sowing of the seeds, the harvests, the grasses, the 
 harvesting, the barns, the granaries, the weeds that plague the 
 fields, the animals, the admonition to a merciful care of them; 
 the hen, the little chickens; the idealization of all and everything 
 we know, and the use of all in the Book to illustrate the higher
 
 302 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 life; the children, the women in the house, the mysteries hid in 
 all things from the tiny seed to the secrets of the farmer's 
 heart, are all written in clear plain language in this wonderful 
 Book of Books. Ah, the farmer ought to love his Bible, and so 
 enrich his life and his farm and his harvests with the guiding 
 knowledge and wisdom and beauty in the Old Book. Adam was 
 a farmer; Abel was a sheep raiser; Abraham and Lot were cattle 
 men; and all the lands of the Bible are green with harvests, and 
 resound to the trampling feet of the herds. The best we know 
 is called the "Good Seed". God is the husbandman, Jesus is the 
 Vine; we are the branches, Jesus is the Shepard we are the 
 sheep the children are the lambs. 'The best we do is called 
 seed sowing, and the results we win is called the harvest. One 
 could tell the old story over, and over, for the Bible is the 
 farmer's Book in many ways. 
 
 The greatest of Books is the Bible, and yet it has been called 
 by some the dullest of books. We have the spectacle of the 
 Catholic Church which builds on it, denouncing the right of the 
 people to have it taught in the common schools. Between the 
 upper and nether mill stone of the Church and the skeptic the 
 old book has been ground, not to the damage of the book, but 
 to the damage of the Church and the people. The old Book 
 shines more and more, in spite of it all, and some day a heart 
 sick world will come back to the Bible.
 
 A LOVE STORY 303 
 
 GOD'S ANVIL. 
 
 "One day I paused beside a blacksmith's door, 
 And heard the anvil ring the vesper chime, 
 Then looking in I saw upon the floor 
 Old hammers, worn with beating years of time." 
 
 "How many anvils have you had" said I? 
 "To mar and batter all these hammers so?" 
 "Just one" he answered; then with twinkling eye, 
 "The anvil wears the hammers out you know". 
 
 "And so", I thought, "the anvil of God's word 
 For ages skeptic blows have beat upon; 
 Yet, though the noise of scoffing loud is heard, 
 The anvil is unworn the hammers gone". 
 
 Author not known.
 
 304 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE PLAN OF SALVATION. 
 
 "A Mountain was in convulsion and brought forth a mouse". 
 
 ' 'I say the whole earth and all the stars in the sky are for 
 religion's sake. I say no man has ever been half devout enough; 
 nor has ever admired, or worshipped half enough, nor has he 
 begun to think how divine he is himself, And how certain the 
 future is". Walt Whitman. 
 
 Tolstoi considered the dogma of the Redemption one of the 
 most untrue and harmful of the doctrines of the Church. 
 
 Not long since I was at a men r s meeting in a Church. The 
 object was to stir up the men of all the Churches to take a for- 
 ward movement for God. There were a number of Churches 
 to draw on, but only twenty-five or thirty men were present; three 
 preachers were on hand. They discussed and sought to find 
 the real obstacles to the Church and its vigorous progress and 
 remove them if they could. One young man in his remarks 
 said, "The day of revivals seems past". In the seat by me 
 laid a new hymn book. I looked it over, for it was of a denom- 
 ination that had had a cast iron creed, and I found the Creed 
 on the first page, and a statement attached said it had been re- 
 vised in 1902, and as I read I found many things in the revi- 
 sion that a little farther on will have to be revised again, and 
 again, to meet the truth that is flowing into the world so rapidly. 
 The thing that ailed that meeting, and meetings everywhere, 
 was one and the same; They as Churches in that town and every- 
 whereare running on a platform and declaration of principles 
 and creeds that no one believes any longer, not even themselves. The 
 old Plan of Salvation was good enough as a working hypothesis so 
 long as people believed it, but now that it is no longer in gen- 
 eral acceptance, but generally disbelieved, it is no longer a good 
 tool to work with. Revivals have ended, that much is known 
 by the church. A new Plan of Salvation will have to be evolved 
 before men and woman will again throng the Churches. The 
 beginning of the old Plan of Salvation is found in the second 
 and third chapters of Genesis in our Protestant Bible. We are
 
 A LOVE STORY 305 
 
 told God made a man and called him Adam, and that he took a 
 rib from his side while he was asleep and called it woman, and 
 named it Eve, and that this Eve was Adam's wife. Adam and 
 Eve were camped in a beautiful garden which was filled with 
 fruit, and of this they might eat, they were told, except of one 
 tree called the "Tree of 'the Knowledge of Good and Evil". 
 Now we are told that the devil in the form of a snake came into 
 that garden, hunted up Eve and told her to be sure and eat of 
 the fruit of that tree, for if she did, she and Adam would be as 
 the Gods, knowing good and evil, and would live forever. She 
 took and ate, and she gave Adam some of the fruit and he ate 
 it. Then we are told that God found out what the devil and 
 Eve were doing, so he turned both Adam and Eve out of the 
 garden, and cursed the ground so Adam would have a hard time 
 to make a living, and cursed Eve by making her Adam's servant, 
 and cursed her child bearing, and God was so horribly angry, 
 we are told, he either couldn't or wouldn't forgive the whole 
 human race because of this affair. And we are taught they 
 were all dammed and lost, because of the "Adamic Sin". But 
 we are told that there was one to come, a Saviour, who was to 
 be tormented all his life, so that God could bring his mind to 
 forgive those miserable descendants of Adam. Eons passed, 
 Christ came, we are told; he was declared the Saviour of men 
 from the sin of Adam, by his death on the Cross. God was able 
 to forgive man after he saw His own Son, the only one he had, 
 suffer the horrible slow agony of death on the cross; but man, 
 poor lost man, child of Adam, had now to accept Christ the 
 Son of God, as God also, in order to get his miserable soul saved 
 from his own individual sins; Christ's death saved him from 
 Adams sin only; in order to escape a Devil who was malignant 
 evil personified, and a Hell where the fire would burn him for- 
 ever and forever, and worms would gnaw the flesh of these 
 miserable wretches eternally and, forever, who had not accepted 
 The Plan of Salvation of the God who created them, and also 
 created Hell and Heaven and the Devil, and Christ as one third 
 part of the Godhead. And last, but not least, the dogmas of 
 the Church which promulgated these ideas must be accepted 
 by everybody, or all would be lost beyond a doubt; this was ab- 
 solutely necessary and this is all called "The Plan of Salvation" ;
 
 306 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 , 
 
 and all the Orthodox Churches, Protestant and Catholic, accept 
 it, and each Church has its own particular set of dogmas which 
 must also be accepted with it, and, as they none of them agree, 
 and all teach Hell, poor "lost man" has had an awful time of 
 it through the ages. The Ten great Religions all teach a God 
 with wrath against man, and who has an everlasting Hell and 
 Devil and fire, to torment the poor creatures he made, and who is 
 to be placated only by servile worship of the Deity, or Deities, 
 these religions teach. The Catholic, the Greek, the Protestant 
 Churches, all accept and teach the Old Plan of Salvation, so 
 called. It has been taught for ages. See now what? The 
 Church everywhere in decay Catholic and Protestant alike. 
 And the cause is alleged, by the Churches, to be the rejection 
 of The Plan of Salvation. The Church laments, she cries aloud; 
 but the multitude no longer accepts The Plan of Salvation. The 
 Salvation Army, the Moody Movement for Evangelization of 
 the World, the great Spurgeon and Beecher and their class have 
 all come and gone with their teachings, and still men go farther 
 and farther away from The Plan of Salvation. The Men's 
 Forward Movement is a temporary shift. It is true; the day of 
 revivals is ended; for an unreasonable, vicious unjust God, Hell 
 and the Devil have passed into the limbo of decided and final 
 doubt. They grew out of the day of childish faith in dogmas, 
 but men and women demand, now, the strong meat of truth to 
 feed upon. The Church is through with Revivals under the 
 Old Plan. That is a truth! The men of the Pulpit are fewer in 
 number, weaker and more puerile as a class, than they ever 
 were; it is sad to see their decadence. The Catholics who 
 teach their young with vigor always, and shepherd them faith- 
 fully, cannot hold down the revulsions from their dogmas as 
 seen in Italy, France, Spain, Portugal, and Germany yes, in the 
 whole of the Old World, and in Mexico and South America in the 
 New, and that will continue to rise against them always finally. 
 Catholics have arisen against Catholics in spite of their devout 
 Popes, Cardinals, Priests and the Holy men of the secular orders. 
 The Solemn vow they now take against Modernism cannot 
 save them. The Plan of Salvation no longer holds men. 
 
 The Conception of God given us by the Orthodox Church is 
 puerile and mean. A Christian man who would act as we are
 
 A LOVE STORY 307 
 
 taught God acts in The Plan of Salvation would have no stand- 
 ing in any community, and a Plan of Salvation such as the 
 Theologues propogate, if a man was said to have made it, would 
 be greeted with derision and "howled down". If God did 
 foreknow, and it is unthinkable that he did not, as old hard 
 shell Baptists and the Calvanists taught, then he did foreordain ; 
 and if he fore-ordained, he made the whole trouble himself and 
 Eve couldn't help taking the apple, nor Adam, be kept from 
 eating it, and the snake had to crawl into the garden, and the 
 Angel at the gate had to go to sleep or shut his eyes so the 
 snake could get in, and the snake had to talk, and Eve had to 
 listen, etc, etc, ad absurdam. I do not believe the snake story, 
 for in the very nature of things Eve would have "scooted" 
 screaming, or got up a tree; and if the story is true Eve ought 
 to have credit for being smarter and meaner than Adam, and 
 the death of Christ should have expiated the sin of Eve instead 
 of the sin of Adam. It seems to me Eve in the garden was do- 
 ing just what so many say our modern Eves are or they ought 
 to be doing, that is, getting something good for "Adam to eat." 
 And why then, if she was following a natural instinct, should 
 the Lord who planted the instinct in her, punish her for acting 
 upon it? Eve was the first person in the world who had a mind 
 of her own. She discovered freedom and enjoyed it before any 
 other human being in the world knew what it meant. She 
 chose to follow good of the highest, and wanted to know good 
 from evil, and be as good as the Gods were, and she got what 
 she was after. She had a high and Holy ambition. She did 
 her best to help the first man, Adam, see and grasp Freedom, 
 and to aspire to all the high things she aspired to. I do not 
 see that women have changed since the days of Eve. They de- 
 sire all she did. They seem like our first Mother, to aspire to 
 the best. It makes me sad to see that most men still hang back; 
 but some day they will catch up with our great fore-mother and 
 her high ideals, and then the Millenium will come; I wonder at 
 myself that I was still so many years, and let so much abuse be 
 poured upon my great ancestor Eve, and never said a word in 
 her defense. The fact is that women are so used to hearing 
 Mother Eve abused they have hardly sensed the need to speak 
 in her defense. I feel that I have been a great "dumkopf",
 
 308 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 but I shall speak for her hereafter, and just now it comes to 
 me that I had a great grandmother who was named Eve. I had 
 forgotten it, but her father and mother must certainly have 
 considered our old foremother all right or they would never have 
 named a child for her. I'm glad I had ancestors who had so 
 much sense, and also the pluck to name a child for that much 
 abused great and glorious woman, Mother Eve. The whole of 
 a man's anatomy shows he was made to work, why then should 
 the one who created him to work, curse the ground he was 
 obliged to till? or curse the woman who was created by him to 
 bear children? If Eye did nothing else she is the cause of The 
 Plan of Salvation, and if the narrative is true, she is the cause 
 of all men having to go to work instead of loafing all the days 
 of their lives. So far as Adam and Eve were concerned Adam 
 seems to have been an indifferent actor in the Garden of Eden; 
 Eve was the star performer; by her wit, she drew the subtlest 
 thing in creation, the Serpent, to her feet. He had to do his 
 best to take her in; she made him tell the biggest lies and make 
 the effort of his life, according to the story of The Plan of Sal- 
 vation. She was smarter than the Serpent who was said to be 
 the subtlest of all things created. Why not say so? She dis- 
 covered that to be naked as she and Adam were, was shameful 
 and not good, and that seems a step up instead of down; she 
 did get knowledge, for both hid and put on garments; so the 
 serpent did not lie as to that. She was the cause of the ap- 
 pearance of an Angel with flame and sword appearing, and 
 making a great excitement, and she and Adam went from 
 sloth to labor, and civilization began with this Exodous from 
 Paradise. Give Eve credit for this, it is hers. Old Mother Eve 
 was a very great woman. Adam was certainly a weak sort of 
 a creature from what we are taught about him. What did he 
 do anyway, except to claim for himself all the results of Eve's 
 adventures and discoveries ; He was a mean sneak for he accused 
 Eve of being the cause of his own sins. He told that to the 
 Lord too, who should have known he was lying instead of be- 
 lieving so mean a sneak as Adam. No, The Plan of Salvation 
 is a puerile thing, and it is time to move up to God in the High- 
 est, to the brightest, the noblest ideal that the mind and heart 
 of man can conceive, for that is the Great Altitude, that is the
 
 A LOVE STORY 309 
 
 new Plan of Salvation, we must have if the church is to live, we 
 can go no farther. 
 
 Free the minds of men so that they can conceive of the 
 highest ideals. We need to reject the crudities and absurdities 
 that belong to a ferocious age when all the world was at war, 
 and men hated and killed and plundered and burned and raped 
 and were as devilish in their beings as Apache Indians. The reign 
 of love and compassion and uplift and beauty and spirit came 
 with Christ. Let us follow Him. 
 
 'From the beginning, of The Plan of Salvation, the Church 
 has taught the subjugation of women because of Eve's alleged 
 sins. 
 
 I once asked a devout Catholic woman if all the women in 
 her Church had to promise to obey the men they married. ' 'Oh 
 yes" she said, with a pious air as if it were a very religious 
 matter. Her husband who was a devout Catholic also, told me 
 one day some years later, of some things he wished to do, but 
 said his wife would not let him, 
 
 Of a German Catholic woman whom I knew very well, I 
 asked, ' 'Do all the women in your Church promise to obey the 
 men they marry"? "Oh yes", she said with a light air she 
 was not married. "Well, do they" I questioned. "Oh, how 
 could they"? said she with a hearty laugh, and then we both 
 laughed. She had several married sisters. 
 
 I told a Catholic friend ' 'There are many things in your 
 Church I like, but I couldn't join you, for you make all the 
 women lie to' get a husband, you make them promise to obey 
 the men they marry. She laughed and so did I. I saw not 
 long ago where a Catholic man sued a Catholic Priest who had 
 instructed his wife to disobey him, to his great damage. What 
 a mix up, but its good old doctrine and dogma, and has a sound 
 foundation in the Orthodox Plan of Salvation the Church teach- 
 es yet. The Protestant takes the old Plan, swallows it like an 
 oyster, whole, without condiments. The Catholic salts and 
 peppers and spices it with tradition, dogma and miracle, and it 
 is then ready for his uses. The Church has declared the woman is 
 the source of all sin, the corrupter of men; Catholic and Pro- 
 testant and Mohammedan and Pagan and Savage all agree on this. 
 She is the thing of evil which lost Paradise to the human race,
 
 310 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 under all religions. They have put in the mouth of every man 
 the sneaking lying plea, when he does wrong, "The woman 
 thou gavest me, she did this evil". The result of such teach- 
 ings is seen in woman refused a voice in the Orthodox Church. 
 She may not teach, preach, pray or speak like Deborah, Mir- 
 iam and Anna of old. The Church has been trying to fly with 
 one wing, no wonder she has finally collapsed. She must have 
 both men and women. 
 
 The Theologues are crazy over divorces. Well, has not 
 the Church kept alive the idea of the inferiority of the woman 
 in subjection, and the idea of a man doing and following his 
 own will, even in marriage? So this divorce question is up to the 
 Church to settle, for it's the fault of the Church that things are 
 as bad as they are. The Church has indoctrinated the man to 
 shirk for his crimes and sins, and seek a scape goat in the 
 woman. All the vows of obedience that have been exacted by 
 Church of the woman, and the ordinance of God and Sacraments 
 as declared by the Church, has not saved men and women from 
 divorce, and worst of all from the consequent troubles of helpless 
 childhood. I once had two small pigs in my buggy, each safely 
 tied in a coffee sack. A couple of us, women, had a foot at each 
 side of the buggy to keep the little fellows from jumping out. 
 When the buggy started they stopped their screams and sat 
 down upon their haunches like two dogs; they were in separate 
 sacks. Presently one with its head batted the other, but he 
 got a good bat back, and the two pigs kept that up till we un- 
 loaded them. Each pig blamed the other for the scrape they 
 were in, and each wanted to punish the other pig. I saw this 
 idea of wanting to blame someone else for our own deeds, as an 
 animal trait, and of all the mean things men do this is the 
 meanest, to blame some woman for their mean deeds The first 
 man, called Adam, had this trait, and he blamed Eve, his wife, 
 for his meaness, and men and Priests, and Preachers still teach 
 the practice of it to the detriment of the woman, the family, 
 the Church and righteousness. Well, let the Church get 
 out of it; they started that dogma and kept that thought alive, 
 and nurtured it all the ages; they have got their consequences. 
 If they do not like it, let the Church mend its dogmas, and its 
 communicants and Priests and Preachers cease such teaching.
 
 A LOVE STORY 311 
 
 The Lord cursed the woman in child-bearing, according to the 
 Plan of Salvation. Well, according to the dismal lamentations 
 arising everywhere, Eve's daughters are somehow or other get- 
 ting rid of the Primal Curse. Why shouldn't one get rid of a 
 curse if he or she can, so long as it is a curse? Let the Church 
 elucidate this and cure it; she laid the foundations of this evil. 
 Let it be remembered ; the Devil and Hell are lost or gone, or at 
 least have no longer any power to settle things. What will they 
 do about it? & 
 
 I once heard a young preacher, fresh from Theological 
 School, describe the saved and blessed of the earth as sitting 
 upon the battlements of heaven and enjoying the shrieks and 
 screams and yells and curses of the dammed, who writhed in 
 hell, tormented by devils. He taught what he had been taught 
 in a great Theological University, and it was not so many years 
 ago. Such teachings grow out of the old Plan of Salvation, 
 which taught that God was malignant and unjust, and the 
 multitude has revolted and has cast out the lies of the Old Plan 
 of Salvation, that made God appear meaner than a very mean 
 man, and much more wicked. 
 
 "The Church in vain essays her ghostly charm". 
 
 The men who get the most out of the ground these days 
 are the men who do not work the ground; they make others 
 work. Let the Church hold men down to the accursed ground 
 for the sake of Salvation! Kings, Queens, Lords, Ladies, Heads 
 of great Corporations do not toil; they require others to toil. 
 Science studies the works of God. Socialism rejects God, 
 and is considered a menace, but it grows everywhere. The 
 Black Hand and the Cammorra seem to be religious, since the 
 police of great cities call upon the priests of the Mafia to help 
 repress the murders in it, and the Cammorists seem to own 
 their own special priest. 
 
 We need a new Plan of Salvation. If the Church can furnish 
 one, well and good; but her priests and preachers as a class 
 seem in decadence, notwithstanding noble men and true in her 
 borders. We have none any more who can hold the multi- 
 tudes. The Salvation Army hold their people by feeding and 
 clothing the body, and thus open the eyes of the soul to Christ. 
 Men need earnestly and honestly and solemnly to reject the
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 Old Plan of Salvation. It has served its time. We have the 
 old, old precious Bible full of Truth; let us align to its Truths. 
 We need a new Bible too, with the Old One we love; we need a 
 new Plan of Salvation ; we need love, not hate; a just, not a 
 malicious ideal of God. We need the Ten Commandments alive 
 in every head and heart. We need the simple creed of Jesus 
 in our lives. We need to feed our souls upon the Beatitudes. 
 
 "In Mosque and Synagogue the foolish and the wise 
 Are ever flying Hell and seeking Paradise'-'. 
 
 But whoso penetrates the mind of the Most High; 
 Nor Hell nor Paradise doth ever seek or fly. 
 
 In Synagogue or Mosque who loves and knows God well, 
 Cares not for Paradise and has no fear of Hell". 
 
 -R. H. Stoddard. 
 
 ' 'Who seeks for heaven alone to save his soul, 
 May keep the path, but Will not make the goal; 
 While he who walks in love may wander far, 
 Yet God will bring him where the blessed are". 
 
 -H. Van Dyke.
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 THEOLOGIC CREEDS AND CREED MAKERS. 
 
 ' 'Let the preachers create creeds; let them teach all that they 
 have been taught; let the preachers of creeds never dare go medi- 
 tate candidly upon the hills, alone, by day or by night; if ever one 
 once dare, he is lost". Walt Whitman. 
 
 " For me my Lord I love him not, nor fear him, that's my 
 creed" . Shakespeare. 
 
 From the beginning till now Creeds are made by men. 
 When the Creed-Makers get them shaped to their notion, they 
 take steps to get these creeds accepted by others, and when 
 they become strong enough, they have always tried to force all 
 men to accept them. 
 
 The fear of damnation in hell, and the desire for salvation 
 in Heaven hereafter, was and is the motive for Creeds; and 
 Creed Makers were plenty always, from the dark ages an- 
 terior to Moses, in his day, and ever since. The question 
 "What shall I do to be saved"? was the one important question 
 in all the Creeds of the Pagan, the Mohammedan, Jew and his 
 successor, the Christian, and in the seven (7) great Bibles of 
 men. 
 
 The first Creed of the Jew and his successor the Christian, 
 is known as the Ten Commandments, and it is a good Creed, 
 and just as valuable as the day it was made, and any right 
 minded person can accept it. The Creed of Jesus is a sum- 
 mary of the essentials of the divine law, and encompasses the 
 Ten Commandments of Moses, by the law of love to God and 
 man. The Beatitudes belong to both. 
 
 The old Religionists, the Brahmins, the Budhists, Zooras- 
 tians, Confucians, Mohammedan, Hoodoists, Indians, Africans, 
 etc., all have their Creeds, but we are principally concerned 
 with the Creeds of Christianity, Protestant with its various 
 divisions, and Catholic. 
 
 The Creed Makers as a class, have been men who were ter- 
 ribly religious, and who seem to have been touched with the 
 idea that the major part of the human race was doomed to 
 Hell. They were faithful if ignorant students of the Bible. I
 
 314 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 believe the major part of the Creed Makers were gentlemen 
 well along in middle life, and generally dyspeptic and neurotic. 
 Some were epileptic; others had strange and alarming visions, 
 and some had interviews with the Devil. I judge them by the 
 Creeds they concocted, and which, after they were made, they 
 tried to make people swallow for fear of damnation on their 
 say so, backed up by numerous texts from the Bible they had 
 strung together like assorted beads on a string. The terrible 
 nature of these Creeds is evidenced by the martyrs, who were 
 burned at the stake, hanged on the gallows, drowned on the 
 sea shores, broken on the wheel, pierced with knives, suffo- 
 cated, entombed alive, fed to wild beasts, and massacred on 
 various occasions. Christian Creeds and Creed Makers en- 
 forced the practices of Pagans and Savages upon those who re- 
 fused to accept these creeds! They were not of God. They 
 have largely passed away, for a day has come when men and 
 women are free to think God's thoughts after Him, and no one 
 can now cram a creed down the throat of another; and no one 
 can punish the doubter or free thinker. There are churches 
 yet which would persecute if they dared, but the Greek church 
 of Russia with its murdering of the Jews, is the only church to 
 day that dares persecute any people not of its own Creed. 
 Russia is Pagan yet, for all her claims on Christianity. 
 
 It is comforting to think of the rise of the Quakers, whose 
 simple creed and steadfast faith, and recognition of women, did 
 so much to preserve the love of God and man, and justice, 
 through the years, and to abate war, and raise the status of 
 civilization. The Shaker Saint, Mother Ann Lee, with her 
 simple creed of ending the human race as a means to save it 
 from hell, is a credit to womankind and the race, as beside the 
 horrible creeds of men. 
 
 No one should accept the creed of another. Each should 
 create his own creed in righteousness and love. I am always 
 glad for the New Thought people who came to teach the Gospel, 
 and help men and women to rise Godward and be happier and 
 better. The world owes much to Mary Baker Eddy, who 
 taught that God was all in all, and that man was enfolded in 
 the divine life, and whose clear notes pierced all the old Creeds, 
 and raised the thought of the world on healing and drugs, and
 
 A LOVE STORY 315 
 
 shook it to the bottom, and converted schools of medicine to 
 higher thoughts of healing. I accept no Creed except the Ten 
 Commandments, and the Creed that Jesus taught, with the 
 Beatitudes. I rejoice I am able to read my Bible and study 
 the Creeds and Creed Makers, and have freedom, and wit 
 enough to analyze all Creeds, and to know what is best in them, 
 and to reject the false and to know the day of freedom is here, 
 and that no one can cram a Creed down my throat, or that of 
 another. 
 
 Not long ago I visited a good old Saint seventy-seven years 
 old. She had not been able so walk for many years from a 
 broken hip. She had had many afflictions and suffered always 
 from many and severe bodily troubles. 
 
 ''But", she said, "I have prayed many a night under the 
 trees in my garden to be led to the truth. We are all one body 
 all the Churches. It is like a garment, one has the waist, one 
 the sleeves, one the skirt, and so on, but it is all like one gar- 
 ment, and I want to go to my home in heaven so much, now 
 to night." And that was the Creed that sustained her. Un- 
 learned in books, she read her Bible and made her own happy 
 Holy Creed. 
 
 I lately talked with another dear saint ninety-three years 
 old. She said '1 always tried to do good. I helped others all 
 I could. I have had many afflictions but I know there is laid 
 up for me a crown of glory, and I just wait the dear Lord's 
 call. I am anxious to go home". Creeds they have none, dear 
 Saints on the border land of Heaven. I am thankful that they 
 are free and I am free, and that no one can make me accept a 
 Creed that is unworthy of God or man. 
 
 When the day comes that all accept the simple Creed of 
 Jesus Christ, the Ten Commandments and the Beatitudes, the 
 world will be a sweeter and better place than now. We shall 
 live to see our work all done like those dear old Saints whose 
 creeds are their own, and we shall leave life satisfied, like 
 children going on a happy journey, and our friends will not 
 weep, they will wave us loving "good byes", and sing in joy 
 "We shall meet again". And Creeds shall be no more.
 
 316 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 HONORS AND APPRECIATION 
 
 I often see pictures of men, across whose breasts are 
 strung medals, and decorations of various sorts. I think I 
 never saw a woman so decorated except now and then a 
 woman of a so called "royal house", with perhaps one honor- 
 ary decoration. Clara Barton had many decorations but she 
 never used them. American men and women are chary of 
 showing the honors they have won in the battle of life. It 
 seems to me we ought to know, for such things are astimulous 
 to others to strive after the best. I know what others have 
 done gave me an impulse to do. So I feel no shame when I 
 narrate the honors I have won, as I did all I could to make life 
 worth while, in my day. 
 
 I sometimes look at a military gentleman in books or 
 papers, and I wonder at the medals and other decorations of 
 honor pinned or sewed upon his breast. Sometimes there 
 seems hardly room for them. I admire and do not grudge him 
 one of them. I remember Peace hath her honors as well as 
 war, and I wonder if L string my honors, not on my breast, but 
 across this page, if some will smile and jibe, and if you wish 
 to smile who read, I'll smile with you and feel no pain. It 
 was not easy to win these honors the warrior wears, and that 
 I wear; it took great labor. It may inspire others to make 
 efforts to win what these honors represent, and in that belief 
 I record them. 
 
 An Indian must kill a man before he is accounted worthy 
 to be called one. The honors the fighter wins means lives of 
 many sacrificed to win. My Honors run across the years 
 as follows: 
 
 I am the first graduate of a law school in the world and 
 am a Bachelor of Laws. (B. L). I can by right call myself a 
 Doctor of Philosophy (Ph. D.), was ordained a minister of the 
 gospel by my church; have been a Notary Public four times; 
 have been elected to school offices twice, serving six years; was 
 Editor of a vigorous temperance monthly paper eleven years; 
 have held office in the National W. C. T. U. , State offices in 
 the same, and still hold county and local offices. I belong to 
 the Daughters of the American Revolution on ancestral records
 
 A LOVE STORY 317 
 
 and am a member of the Eastern Star, and of a Missionary 
 Society. I was a teacher of children for many years handling 
 thousands of them; I lectured for a number of years, as well as 
 preached ; I am an honorary member .of the Illinois State Bar 
 Association, and of the Illinois Mexican War Veterans. I am 
 a good nurse, and a good veterinarian doing surgical as well as 
 other work though I have no degree in the last two, I 
 think I ought to have. I am versed in all the household arts, 
 and I can cut and make garments for children and men and 
 women, including tailor work in cloth as well as in other goods 
 and I can teach others. I am as good a milliner as goes and 
 make my own hats. I am a club woman, and was the Presi- 
 dent of a High Cult Emerson Club for 13 years. I am a 
 practical and successful farmer and stock raiser, and an or- 
 chardist. I have never fooled away my time, and I have had 
 delight in my work with its many hardships, but it was worth 
 while, and all my Honors have meanings to me, and have had 
 appreciators. In the hope I may inspire some to find higher 
 delight in life I place them on this page. 
 
 I have been invited to take part in National gatherings for 
 the discussion of disease and crime, but was too much engaged 
 to accept. When I did my best, and I always worked hard, I 
 was grateful for the appreciation the honor showed me.
 
 318 . A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 PRAYER. 
 
 A man of intelligence once said to me that it was perfectly 
 ridiculous to pray. He added that the idea of God spending 
 His time on all the foolish prayers of men and their little af- 
 fairs, was absurd. But I protested, ' 'Cannot you conceive of a 
 man or woman being so formed that when they lift the voice 
 and heart and mind in honest aspiration to God, that forces 
 awake in him or her, and forces may awake elsewhere, that 
 will result in fruits from prayer"? He thought for a moment 
 and then replied, "Well, that might be". 
 
 Our Bible teaches us to pray. Many writers taught and 
 teach of prayer. Many testify to its efficacy. Testimony comes 
 from everywhere. In the human soul and heart, there is de- 
 sire for prayer, and that repressed breaks out in moments of 
 great mental and spiritual and bodily stress. I have a book of 
 striking illustrations on this subject. I read it often and have 
 learned of its worth and value. They who pray, must reap 
 much from it. Prayer brings us in harmony with the best 
 minds of the ages, and lifts us to the highest in ourselves, God. 
 
 When the body and mind are awry, what lifts the spirit up 
 and refreshes both body and spirit like a simple prayer? "Oh 
 God, lift me out of the body into the Spirit and bless me", at 
 any hour of the day or night a suffering soul and body and 
 spirit can cry out. 
 
 What consolation* to send a wireless message to those we 
 love, via the currents of the soul, under God. When we must 
 lay down all we love and cherish forever, what soothes the 
 soul and brings peace, and even joy, like prayer. The rebelli- 
 ous spirit is quelled by it, and the prayer sustains and soothes 
 pain and death. 
 
 We are told to pray, to ask what we will. I pray for all 
 sorts of things for myself, for my friends, for anything that I 
 may care for; that my things may be cared for. I pray for my 
 cattle; we ship horses from France where the peasants take 
 their stock to the Church yards to have God's blessing asked on 
 them. I pray for my fields, my orchards, and for my helpers; 
 for things I do, or am about to do; for direction that I may not 
 do foolish things. And many other prayers that might seem
 
 A LOVE STORY 319 
 
 silly to others; I pray for anything; for I am but a child in wis- 
 dom, and I know account will be made for me. "Pray without 
 ceasing" is a command. I try to obey it. Jesus prayed till he 
 sweat blood, we are told. He gave us that prayer we give His 
 name, "The Lord's Prayer". The Bible is full of Prayer; our 
 own beings should be. Prayer is in harmony with the psychic, 
 which is of the soul, and which is above and controls the body. 
 
 THE PRAYER JESUS TAUGHT MEN. 
 
 "Our Father which art in Heaven; hallowed be thy name; 
 Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. 
 Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses 
 as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not 
 into temptation, but deliver us from evil for Thine is the King- 
 dom and the power and the glory forever Amen". 
 
 THE PRAYERS OF JESUS. 
 
 The Prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane before the Cru- 
 cifixion: 
 "Father If it is possible let this cup pass from me". 
 
 On the Cross: 
 
 "Father forgive them, they know not what they do". 
 
 THE PRAYER OF DAVID. 
 
 One of the most beautiful ever uttered. Every man, woman 
 and child should say it each day. 
 
 "Search me oh God and know my heart; try me and know 
 my thoughts; and see if there be any wicked way in me, and 
 lead me in the way everlasting". 
 
 Let all men and women pray this prayer and live it, and 
 we shall have revolutions for good everywhere. 
 
 A PRAYER IN AFFLICTION. 
 
 ' 'Oh Heavenly Father, help me, sustain me. Sanctify this 
 affliction to my good."
 
 320 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 A PRAYER IN TROUBLE AND UNREST. 
 
 "Oh k)d, my Heavenly Father, quiet me? Lift me out of 
 the flesh into the Spirit and bless me with peace." 
 To be repeated over and over again. 
 
 THE CHILD'S PRAYER. 
 
 A prayer that almost all mothers teach their children, and 
 that the Great Chief Justice, John Marshall, and Neal Dow, said 
 every day of their lives. 
 
 ' 'Now I lay me down to sleep, 
 
 I pray the Lord my soul to keep; 
 
 If I should die before I wake, 
 
 I pray the Lord my soul to take. Amen". 
 
 IN SICKNESS. 
 
 "Oh Lord, fill me with Thy peace, 
 Restore my body and spirit." 
 
 FOR ONE IN SICKNESS. 
 
 "Heavenly Father, bless this dear sick one, and give heal- 
 ing from the plenitude of thy power". 
 
 WHEN A DUMB FRIEND PAYS ITS DEBT TO NATURE. 
 
 ' 'I thank Thee Lord for the love of this dear dumb Friend 
 of mine, who taught me to look to Thee in love, as it looked up 
 to me in affection. I thank Thee for the comfort and consola- 
 tion it brought into my life, and that I know was from Thee". 
 Amen.
 
 A LOVE STORY 321 
 
 THE CREED OF JESUS. 
 
 Mankind has been taught from the beginning by every 
 creed of every people that the most important question for 
 men and women to settle is, "What shall I do to be saved". 
 Saved from what? Well, saved from a malignant Devil; a ma- 
 lignant God, a Hell of fire and brimstone, where the worm 
 dieth not, and that catches and holds a poor human wretch 
 forever and forever. 
 
 When Jesus Christ was on the earth, a certain lawyer stood 
 up and tempted him we are told .and asked this question, 
 
 "Master what shall I do to inherit eternal life"? Jesus 
 said, ' ' What is written in the law, how readest thou?' ' and he 
 answering said. 
 
 "Thou shall love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and 
 with all thy soul and with all thy strength and with all thy mind, 
 and thy neighbor as thyself. And he (Jesus) said unto him, 
 Thou hast answered right; this do and thou shalt live." Luke 
 10: 25, 26, 27, 28 verses. 
 
 Here is the whole question, and the answer in a nut shell. 
 To use the words of Jesus, man to be saved must first love God 
 with all his powers, and then he must love his brother man the 
 same way he loves himself; and this Jesus declares is what a 
 man must do "to inherit eternal life" or win salvation. 
 
 We are told in Mathew, chapter 22, that a lawyer asked 
 Jesus again, "Master which is the great Commandment in the 
 laiv"? and "Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love' the Lord thy 
 God with all thy soul and with all thy mind. This is the first 
 and great Commandment, and the second is like unto it, Thou 
 shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two Commandments 
 hang all the law and the prophets". 
 
 A scribe came to Jesus and asked him ' 'Which is the first 
 Commandment of all"? ' 'And Jesus answered him, The first 
 of all the Commandments is, "Hear 0, Israel; the Lord thy 
 God is one Lord; and thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all 
 thy heart and with all thy mind and with all thy strength; this 
 is the first commandment. And the second is like, namely this; 
 Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. There is none other 
 Commandment greater than these". Mark 12;-28 to 33d vs.
 
 322 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 I call this the Creed of Jesus, for there is nothing higher 
 can be taught, and in the love of God, and love to our neighbor 
 is all that is needed for a man's salvation. The creeds of men 
 fall into ruins before this simple creed of Christ, which includes 
 everything that is necessary to the salvation of a man from his 
 lower self, and for his uplift to the highest we know. There is 
 not a man or woman in the world but can accept it fully and 
 freely; the Brahmin, Boodist, Zorastrian, Confucian, Moham- 
 medan, Jew, Greek, Catholic, Protestant, Indian, the Negro of 
 the Congo, the highest, the lowest can accept it; it is so simple 
 and clean cut and clear that all can understand it, and all can use 
 it. What a contrast to the awful creeds created by men. 
 
 I have heard the creed of Jesus mentioned as a noble 
 thought, but I have never heard it preached as a creed, or 
 claimed as a creed except by myself. I did not see it as a creed, 
 myself for a long time; we are so clouded by strange things, we 
 are not always free to think. When the Church rejects the 
 creeds of men and accepts this simple creed of Christ and 
 teaches it, till all accept it and live by it, what a change the 
 world over will appear. 
 
 Pundita Ramabai, the learned Hindoo woman and Philan- 
 thropist, said, "I do not understand your creeds". She joined 
 the Christ and His simple creed, and not any other made by 
 men. Let us accept and teach the simple creed of Jesus and so 
 win salvation. The Church united on the creed of Jesus would 
 move with tremendous power upwards and onward. It is a 
 creed of love, and all could and would accept it, and then grow 
 into the divine life exemplified by Jesus.
 
 A LOVE STORY 323 
 
 RICH DEVIL POOR GOD. 
 
 Admitting the possibility of the Devil, I have oft times felt 
 constrained to say, when I meditate on the brothels, the dram 
 shops and the gambling devices that afflict our cities and towns 
 everywhere, both great and small, and the world over, at Street 
 Fairs and Carnivals, where the saloons and brothels furnish the 
 most of the money to get a large portion of the gain, and when 
 the Church women run little eating stands to get a few dollars 
 for the Lord; I am oft times constrained to say "I congratu- 
 late the Devil, he has so many friends; and I feel sorry for poor 
 God who seems to have so few". My Mother once had a very 
 pious Catholic girl who worked for her, and in winter when she 
 fed the fire she would often draw a long sigh and say, "Ach 
 Gott, how many burn in hell". It looks as if the Church would 
 fight the Devil with vigor, but everywhere we find houses in which 
 are brothels, and dram shops owned by Church members, who 
 get much gain from these rentals. Many vote for the saloons 
 and pool rooms, and are hot for everything that corrupts youth, 
 so they get a dollar. If the poor preachers make too much fuss 
 about evils which exist, they are in many places admonished to 
 cease being too radical, or they will have to go. So, ' 'Auld Cloo- 
 tie" seems to be getting on quite well, and "Poor God' ' seems to 
 behaving a hard time to hold His own, while "the Devil" is rich 
 in friends and favors.
 
 324 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 A FREETHINKER. 
 
 ' ' What is man that Thou art mindful of him and the Son of 
 man that Thou visitest him? Thou hast made him a little lower 
 than the Angels and crowned him with glory and honor; Thou 
 hast put all things under his feet." Bible. 
 
 "We shall judge Angels", says Paul in an ecstacy" 
 
 "For man the living temple is, 
 The mercy seat the Cherubim, 
 And all the holy mysteries 
 He bears with him." - Whittier. 
 
 Of a mixed theological ancestry I came upon the stage of 
 life prepared to be a heretic, in other words a Free Thinker. 
 On my Mother's side there were Catholics, and in the Papist 
 persecutions in England my Mother's fathers' people fled to 
 Alsace and Loraine where they lived long enough to lose two 
 letters from their English name. There came a day when the 
 family emigrated from that French German province of the old 
 world and came to America, settled in Pennsylvania where the 
 younger set of the family restored the missing letters of their 
 name. 
 
 My Grandfather was raised from home and became a zealous 
 pioneer Methodist; his sisters kept the old faith and were Cath- 
 olics. At Somerset, Ohio, where my maternal Grandparents 
 lived, Gen'l Phil Sheridan was born and raised, and other Cath- 
 olic men of note, the Bulgarian War correspondent Mac Gahan, 
 the Shermans and Ewings, notable Catholics all of them, 
 came from that vicinity. My Grandfather's Catholic an- 
 tecedents were well known, and when St. Joseph's Cath- 
 olic Church was built at Somerset, my Grandfather who was 
 a blacksmith, was given the order for the iron used, and 
 thereon he stamped his name. The Church felt it had a 
 claim on him, as he was baptised in the communion, but all the 
 Catholic zeal "bred in his bones" was used for the Church of his 
 choice which was the Methodist, and his house was a post where 
 pioneer preachers put up free. The great bake oven in the
 
 A LOVE STORY 325 
 
 kitchen frequently turned out a hundred pies for Quarterly 
 Meeting, and bread and meat in proportion. My Grandmother 
 always felt the subtle charm of the Catholic Church and feared 
 her children would be drawn that way, and two did become 
 high Church Episcopalians eventually. The School of St. Joseph 
 for boys, and the Convent of St. Mary for girls were built in 
 the little town of Somerset, and those two became an influence 
 which every child of that Community felt, and I was born in 
 that village. My Mother's maternal Grandfather, Wm. Temple 
 Coles, was educated for the established Church in Ireland, and 
 owned an estate there. He came at an early age to Saulsbury, 
 North Carolina, where, as long as he lived, he was an interest- 
 ing figure, giving land for public uses to that City and other- 
 wise a vital force. He was an officer of the crown, an organizer 
 of the Episcopalian Church at Saulsbury and one of its officers, 
 and an ardent Mason. He hated slavery and always said God 
 would raise up a Moses for the blacks. When the Revolution- 
 ary War came on he was an ardent Tory, but his two children, 
 Henrietta Maria named for an English Queen, and his son, 
 William Temple Coles, Jr. were both Rebels; the Son being a 
 Captain in the 4th Carolina Regiment; the daughter doing hard 
 work to help the cause; the two entitling with others of their 
 kin, their descendants to become Sons and Daughters of the 
 American Revolution. 
 
 On my Father's side were "blue-nosed,' Presbyterians" and 
 I think most of the other Churches had representatives among 
 us. My Mother, first a Methodist, became a follower of the 
 Christian Doctrine, expounded and exemplified by Emanuel 
 Swedenborg. My Father owned allegiance to no Church after 
 he was turned out of the Methodist Church which he joined to 
 please my Mother, for being late one Sunday morning. 
 
 Among us at an early day there were psychists, spiritulists, 
 followers of that splendid belief, who repudiated the horrors of 
 the old orthodoxy and accepted freedom and love under God. My 
 father's mother who had suffered a deep wound for righteous- 
 ness sake by the Presbyterian Church she belonged to, repudiated 
 the Church and said she'd not belong "because there were too 
 many hypocrites in the Church". Yes, she was a noble and 
 good woman and her Bible was her daily companion, and to her 
 
 I
 
 326 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 teachings I owe much, for as a child she taught me to love right- 
 eousness, and to hate wrong and evil. 
 
 My people were strong minded, and high minded, and free 
 with their ideas and their tongues. An observant thinking 
 child, knowing and hearing, is preforce moulded. I was by na- 
 ture devout and religious, but as the years came on I began to 
 see that the most desirable thing for a human soul was to have 
 freedom of thought, and I learned that no one had the right to 
 suppress it, and that no one had the right to limit it; that no 
 one had the right to make a creed for me; that it was my duty in 
 the fear of God to evolve my own creed, and that I did myself 
 a wrong to permit any one to make a creed for me. In all Na- 
 ture no two things are alike, all differentiate; no tree, no plant, 
 no chrystal, no bee, no bird, no leaf, no hand, no foot, no body, 
 no mind, all differ; and the Great Soul over all, is so manifold 
 and full of power He needs every human being that ever was 
 or ever is, or ever will be, to express His Infinitude. If we 
 think in blocks and masses we cannot be free; we cannot develop 
 the individual as he or she should be. When one gets freedom 
 before God, then comes real growth and development, and in 
 that source from which we come, there is plenty for each one 
 in freedom, an unfailng Spring; life would have a zest if we 
 were free, a zest that it now too often lacks and men would 
 rise Godward instead of sinking downward into dull lives begot 
 by harsh untruthful Creeds. 
 
 The old faiths were in my bones and flesh and flowed in my 
 blood; it was hard to get free. I suffered, my soul was in tra- 
 vail before the Great Source of things and men, and life and love; 
 my reason and my heart rose in revolt; but at last I was free; I 
 became a Free Thinker. God is the Great Centre of all things. 
 We are told "Out of the heart are the issues of life". Love 
 and reason are seated in honor before their author, God. Right- 
 eousness is the great end and aim of life, for by it we adjust 
 all things to truth, and truth is God. 
 
 Theological dogmas are not of God; they are Frankenstein 
 monsters, that are not only horrible to see and think of, but in 
 the end turn upon their makers and pursue them, and destroy 
 them and their works. 
 
 The sooner the old Creeds and dogmas pass, the better for
 
 A LOVE STORY 327 
 
 human kind. Men and women everywhere are thinking with 
 free minds. Let the slate be wiped clean; let us begin anew. 
 What is hell and the devil anyway, and damnation, except work- 
 ing hypothesis for dead creeds. The old things have passed 
 away; already we have the conception of a New Heaven and a 
 New Earth as a working hypothesis for men; we need, we must 
 think free be Free Thinkers, if we would think God's thoughts 
 after him. 
 
 EMERSON AND THE HOTTENTOT. 
 
 There was a time in my life I would not discuss dogmas 
 with any one. I was busy with other things and like Paul, 
 considered it was "not expedient" then. I had a dear old Or- 
 thodox friend who "pestered" me to debate with her. Finally 
 I told her it was no use, I would not. "But", I said "I will 
 submit a proposition to you. According to your belief, Emerson, 
 who is Hetrodox, will go to hell, and a Hottentot, who accepts 
 the doctrine taught him by a Missionary, will go to Heaven. 
 Now, what could the Lord do with a Hottentot? and what could 
 the devil do with Emerson?" She took it well; and after that 
 she no longer pressed me to debate the relative merits of He- 
 trodox and Orthodox religions. I hope she grew in Freedom of 
 thought.
 
 328 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 FREE MASONS. 
 
 The men of my family were all devoted to 
 Free Masonry. I never heard my Mother com- 
 plain of lodges. My father kept his family well 
 supplied with good literature on the subject and 
 we read. Masons do not usually admit women 
 to their lodges, but it has been done. The Free 
 Masons of York, England, and the Mexican 
 Masons have both admitted women to their 
 lodges. Judge James C. Bradwell of Chicago 
 gave me an exhaustive treatise on the subject, 
 and he was an ardent Free Mason. I am attached to the order 
 because it taught and held to Freedom, and its name is still a 
 shield, for and a spur to that end. 
 
 I have never cared to know the secrets of Masonry; thev 
 are of small importance compared with the magnificent beauty 
 of its religion, its symbolism, its philosophy, its teaching of the 
 fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man. The plumb, 
 the line and the square, are needed in the building of human 
 lives. Because it was free, Masonry taught the Fatherhood 
 of God and the Brotherhood of Man before freedom was, and 
 before Christ came; the whole world became in time honey- 
 combed by this doctrine, and by the order, that leveled all men 
 to one status. Masonry became the Sesame that opened the 
 hearts and brains of men to the highest teachings Free Mas- 
 onry. Because the world was not up to its ideals it often 
 received punishment, and punishment followed its teachings, 
 and that is not ended yet; but Masonry still lives and will live to 
 the end of time. 
 
 Free Masonry is the fruitful Mother of all the fraternal 
 orders and is not surpassed by any child it has; but it needs to 
 go deep into its hidden springs and drink there, and hold to the 
 old fealty of the Craft, which it is said began with the Crafts- 
 man at the building of Solomon's Temple, with Hiram the 
 Architect at its head. "He did all the craft direct how they 
 should build". The old lodge song says. 
 
 "Solomon Israel's great King 
 Did mighty blessings bring; 
 And taught us how to sing 
 Great God our King."
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 329 
 
 KNIGHTS TEMPLARS PILGRIMAGES. 
 
 Knights Templary, cruelly persecuted 
 and almost destroyed by the Church it 
 loved and served, turned, when there are 
 no other Sanctuary, to Free Masonry, 
 which before any other association of 
 men mastered and declared Freedom, 
 and the Fatherhood of God and Brother- 
 hood of Man, and embraced it, and be- 
 came finally its glory. 
 
 Mr. Kepley was a Knight Templar, 
 belonging to Godfrey de Bouillion Com- 
 mandery No. 44 of Mattoon, Illinois. 
 
 In the year 1874 the Triennial Pil- 
 grimage or Conclave for the United 
 States was planned for New Orleans, 
 La., and the trip was arranged to be by 
 water down the great Mississippi River. 
 There were some fine passenger 
 boats running then, and the Thompson 
 Dean under Capt. Paul, a well known 
 and old time river captain, and the Great 
 Republic of St. Louis were chartered 
 for the journey. The Illinois Command- 
 erys went via the Illinois Central and 
 other routes to Cairo, and the most of 
 
 them took passage on the Thompson Dean. From other states 
 many went to St. Louis and took the Great Republic. The 
 Thompson Dean had the start and one could see how anxious 
 her passengers wanted to lead, and get to New Orleans first. 
 One could feel the spirit that made the old time steamboat races 
 on the Mississippi so much in favor and fame at an earlier day. 
 Our passengers could not bear to be second, and rejoiced mightily 
 that our boat finally reached the dock at New Orleans ahead of 
 her companion. Captain Paul reminded me of a solemn Pres- 
 byterian preacher; he fully appreciated the dignity and sacred- 
 ness of his task, and couldn't have been betrayed into any
 
 330 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 foolish act, such as racing. He had a precious cargo on his 
 hands and he felt his responsibility. 
 
 The Knights Templars, as a rule, are people of education, 
 attainments and culture; to be a Sir Knight implies much on 
 these lines. The Social life on the trip was charming. The 
 meals were unsurpassed. The Mississippi passenger boats had 
 a reputation that was of the best; the dinners and suppers were 
 like Banquets every day. The tables were served by colored 
 men, to whom serving seemed a high pleasure; and when the 
 string band began to play the choicest music, eating seemed an 
 aesthetic and poetic exercise, robbed of all its grosser features. 
 The scenery along the banks, the little towns, the islands in 
 the river, stable and fluctuating, the places made famous by the 
 Civil War, the landings where we stopped to take on wood and 
 freight, made every day a new event. Sometimes a number of 
 the passengers ran ashore and gathered leaves and plants and 
 souvenirs from off the banks. Every evening it was dancing 
 and card playing, and singing and knitting and embroidering 
 and sewing and visiting, by the ladies, and a general good time 
 for all who enjoyed these occupations and sports. As we 
 travelled farther South we enjoyed the trees draped in gray 
 moss, and mistletoe. Mist hung over the river like a curtain 
 often, and the Thompson Dean blew, and blew, her whistle, 
 and we hoped we'd not run into some other boat. The water 
 was cold, so cold one couldn't have lived long in it. I thought 
 that, every time I washed my hands. We stopped at Vicks- 
 burg and took in that old city which Grant bombarded and cap- 
 tured, and that, in its early history was a rendezvous for 
 thieves and cut- throats; that was in flat boat days when Abra- 
 ham Lincoln used to go to New Orleans. 
 
 We had an ovation from the Vicksburgers who drove us 
 all over the City in carriages and showered the women with 
 roses. At Memphis we took to the land and snatched a little 
 pleasure from that city safe and sound, 30 feet above high 
 water mark. The water in the river grew clearer the farther 
 South we went. It almost made one shiver, to look at the levies 
 which seemed such a puny obstacle to that tremendous old river, 
 which sometimes breaks through everything in spite of the best 
 work of man, suV merges land, drowns cattle and horses and
 
 A LOVE STORY 331 
 
 other farm stock and sometimes people, and drags houses and 
 barns with a mighty pull to destruction. Well, I saw them* 
 heave the lead and call "Mark Twain" and use all the^other 
 lingo of a Mississippi steam boat, and I remembered that "Mark 
 Twain" who ran this old river in an early day and gathered up 
 and cultured the things that made the world roar with his "In- 
 nocents Abroad" and "Tom Sawyer" and "Huckelberry Finn" 
 and "Pudden Head Wilson", and who touched our hearts with 
 his sweet, sad story "Joan of Arc" the most beautiful of all thej 
 things he wrote, and who taken in and broken up, rose like a 
 wounded lion, shook his shaggy head, amassed a fortune, when 
 he was no longer young, and paid the last cent he owed, and 
 left a legacy not only of tremendous probaty to his native land, 
 but gifts to help others; he lived in solitude because he loved 
 one woman with his whole soul and mind and heart and was 
 faithful to her. 
 
 We visited the Thompson Dean all over, saw the great fur- 
 naces that drove the engines, that created the power that pro- 
 pelled our boat, the grimy crew who tended them, and laughed 
 to hear the negro roustabouts, who sang their peculiar melodies 
 and patted for, and danced "Juba" on the lower deck. 
 
 The State House at Baton Rouge and a glimpse of the city 
 was most picturesque; the old live oaks were magnificent in size 
 and hoary with growing moss that festooned them in long soft 
 drapery. 
 
 ' 'Here stand the forests primeval, 
 The murmuring pines and the hemlocks 
 Bearded with moss, 
 And gray and indistinct in the twilight". 
 
 Oh, it seemed we were in fairy land. Every moment of the 
 daylight was a pleasure. The tide water showed us we neared 
 our goal, and we came into the harbor at New Orleans one 
 evening, nosing our way among all sorts of river craft, and 
 tied up, ahead of the Great Republic, to everybody's pleasure. 
 
 We had quarters on the boat, but some went to Hotels, 
 some to friends. The Sir Knights paraded the streets, held 
 their meetings, elected officials, attended Banquets and other 
 honorary affairs; meantime, going to see all places of interest 
 in the City and round about. Some went down to the Eads Jet- 

 
 332 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 ties; everybody took in Lake Ponchartrain and the Shell road; 
 visited the French Market with its mixture of French, Creoles, 
 Spanish, negroes, and other peoples from everywhere. We 
 went to Biloxi and I caught a real crab in the gulf, and I took 
 off my shoes and stockings and waded in the Atlantic. I've 
 waded in the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans, in the Missis- 
 sippi River, 'in the Merced River in the Yosemite, and in the lit- 
 tle Wabash, Fulfer and Salt Creeks, and in many other lesser 
 streams and in Lake Michigan. I like to wade, but that is as 
 far as I want to go into a stream. 
 
 I wondered where Lafcadio Hearn learned of the aw- 
 full "Moo" and "drag" of the sea, in the Gulf, and the ter- 
 rible power of wind and water that he pictures in "Chita". 
 The awful Galveston disaster was written in "Chita". Hearn 
 might have been there and seen and heard it all; and I think 
 when the sea gets ready again, she can tear out the great sea 
 wall at Galveston like straw. I would not, I could not endure 
 to live where the water, fresh or salt, could take me when it 
 got ready. The thought makes me shudder, I can't help it; 
 the thought is an awesome one, and that was why I did not fully 
 enjoy the water we floated on to go to New Orleans in 1874. 
 
 We visited the awful Cemeteries, the statues which adorn 
 the city; the canals, and saw and heard alligators and caught a 
 little one with a silver quarter and fetched it home. We took 
 in orange groves, eating tropical fruits in plenty, for the Sici- 
 lians flooded the city when the K. T's were there. We went to 
 General Jackson's old Battle Ground; visited the National Ceme- 
 teries where our soldiers lie row upon row beneath grassy cov- 
 erings, and read the words that recorded their virtues, and said 
 "Amen". In the harbor of New Orleans were two war vessels 
 and a Monitor which the Sir Knights who wished visited and 
 examined; we visited their Jack Tars saw their bunks and ham- 
 mocks, the officer's quarters and admired the immaculate clean- 
 liness and tidiness. I learned what is meant by keeping things 
 "shipshape". I learned how to keep things in my house by 
 that visit to the war ships. I much enjoyed the ride in the 
 "gigs" which took us to and from the shore, and ships and which 
 were manned by mariners with their own "bos'on;"! didnot en- 
 joy going under water in the Monitor.
 
 A LOVE STORY 333 
 
 With her lack of sewers, New Orleans is a clean city. It 
 was General Ben Butler who taught the South yellow fever was 
 a filth disease, and how to clean their towns and keep the yel- 
 low fever under. How much abuse Ben Butler had to suffer at 
 New Orleans. He was a tender-hearted man and charitable, 
 merciful and God fearing, and, like Mark Twain he loved one 
 woman with all his heart and when she was no more her 
 memory was dearer than another to him. He was a patriot of 
 high type. He had a hard task to keep things in order in New 
 Orleans, but he did it. I admire and revere Ben Butler's mem- 
 ory. 
 
 The docks full of cotton and freight of every sort, full of 
 negro stevedores working, singing, dancing and laughing, was 
 a wonderful picture. The U. S. Mint interested everybody for 
 we all visited it, as we also did the Cotton exchange, the old 
 Cathedrals and Churches and the quaint old houses. We saw 
 all George Cable told us of in his books; but I would not live in 
 New Orleans. It seems to me some day it too will slip into the 
 river. 
 
 The Knights Templars had a glorious time, holding meet- 
 ings, parading, banqueting, and visiting everywhere in and 
 about the city, and so had their ladies, who were Pilgrims with 
 them, and we were all ready to go home when time was 
 called. Some took the cars, not wishing to travel up the river 
 which was the slow route, but Mr. Kepley and I returned as we 
 went, on the Thompson Dean, to Cairo that watery city at the 
 confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi, and that has a good 
 chance to be washed away some day too, I think, if the "bigste" 
 Fresh comes. 
 
 HO-HO FOR THE GOLDEN GATE. 
 
 In August of 1883, the Triennial Conclave of the Knights 
 Templars was held in San Francisco, Cal, and the Section to 
 which we belonged gathered into St. Louis via the Vandalia, 
 the Missouri Pacific, and other Railroads, taking the U. P. 
 Route West. The Northern Pacific was not finished in those 
 days, and the Sir Knights went by the U. P. Route, returning
 
 334 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 by the Southern Pacific to the East the most of them. 
 
 This was our first visit to the Pacific Coast, as it was to the 
 majority of the Sir Knights, and it was full of novel and de- 
 lightful things. The great stretches of the plains, the dust of 
 the deserts, the Salt Mountains, the snow sheds into which we 
 dashed and then raced out again, the terrific heights from 
 which we looked down into the valleys far below, the winding 
 around, and creeping and crawling along the sides of Moun- 
 tains to reach our goal, were full of interest. 
 
 At Humbolt, that little oasis in the desert, where the river 
 disappears in the sand, we had breakfast; I wandered along 
 the track, and up jumped a real live Indian from the sage brush 
 so suddenly it scared me for a moment. We saw Indians all 
 along going and coming men, women and babies, remnants of 
 the tribes that once peopled the plains. 
 
 In Colorado the Knights Templars visited Manitou with 
 Glen Ellyn and Ute Pass, Pikes Peak, and other points of inter- 
 est, going up the peak on foot or horse; the railroad was not 
 then done. We also visited the Garden of the Gods, Cave of 
 the Winds, Clear Greek Canyon, Green Lake, Leadville, Grand 
 Canyon and other places. I gathered and pressed flowers all 
 along the way and have them yet as souvenirs. 
 
 We took in Salt Lake City and the Great Salt Lake, and saw 
 the bathers in ridiculous array bobbing up and down in the blue 
 water that no one could drown in. We visited the fourteenth 
 Ward Meeting House Sunday School, and I sat in a class which 
 studied the book of Mormon ; I made acquaintance of and talked 
 to the polygamous child of a well known Mormon, and called on 
 her Mother, and let her talk to me about the beauties of ' 'the 
 Plural Order of Celestial Marriage." They were intelligent 
 people; the young girl was a school teacher. Her Mother was 
 from the Isle of Man. I asked the School teacher if the Sunday 
 School Superintendent was a polygamist and she said, "Yes", 
 and she told me a little story that was considered quite a joke 
 on him by the Mormons. He had a wife, but she had no child- 
 ren and she became conscience stricken because they had none. 
 She urged him to marry another woman and help build up the 
 Kingdom of God by adding children to it. He protested, but 
 she finally had her way and he married a second wife. "But",
 
 A LOVE STORY 335 
 
 said the school Miss, smiling, "there were no children", and 
 that was a little joke on him as a Mormon. 
 
 I visited the Deseret Hospital and met Zina D. Young, one 
 of the older wives of Brigham Young; and Dr. Kate Hughes 
 who had charge of the Hospital. Dr. Kate was well educated 
 and obtained her degree as an M. D. in a Philadelphia School of 
 medicine. I inquired how the Mormon women could endure 
 Polygamy, but Dr. Kate, the younger woman, and Zina, the old 
 Saint gave me a most enthusiastic account of its beauties. I 
 said to Zina, "Which of a man's wife makes him the most 
 trouble about his marriages"? And Zina said, with emphasis 
 ' 'The bad ones' ' ' 'The bad ones' ' . Dr. Kate gushingly declared it 
 just wiped out all prolonged hard feelings in families; Dr. 
 Kate afterwards served in the Mormon Legislature, and mar- 
 ried a husband and had a child I think. Zina was an 
 able and vigorous woman, much looked up to; she made me a 
 gift of a book of poetry by Eliza R. Snow Smith Young, who 
 had a gift of rhyming; she was another gusher for polygamy. I 
 met Emeline Wells and subscribed for two years to her paper 
 The Mormon Women's Exponent. She was the sixth wife of 
 Daniel Wells. I met and conversed with Romania Pratt who 
 conducted a school of Midwifery. Zina Young, boasted to me 
 at that time, August 1883, that there were thirty-two thousand 
 children under eight years of age in Utah; they teach their 
 women they will be lost if they refuse to have children, and 
 that is the way Mormonism is built up. Emeline Wells loaned 
 me a book, ''The Women of Utah" to read, for I could not find 
 one to buy like it; I returned it to her later on. I talked with 
 a number of men, and they one and all declared Polygamy the 
 real thing, though the women all admitted it was a state of 
 suffering for them, for which they would get their rewards 
 hereafter. I said "You do not live for this world then"? "Oh 
 no all for the other world". I bought me a stock of Mormon 
 books, and I studied, and conversed with Mormons, and I am in 
 entire agreement with Ex-Senator Frank Cannon, that the 
 Mormon leaders are liars, every one of them; and I am con- 
 vinced the United States, ought to pass a law making Polygamy 
 an offense against the General Government like counterfeiting 
 money is. I always feel proud to think Judge Zane of Illinois
 
 336 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 was the first territorial Judge who convicted Mormons. I saw 
 him once at Springfield, 111. ; he was a red headed bluff old 
 gentleman with no nonsense about him. He ruled all Mormons 
 off Juries, and he got convictions, and punished offenders who 
 committed Polygamy. If I were Mayor of Effingham or any- 
 where else, I would not let Mormons preach on the streets any 
 more than I'd allow train robbers or horse thieves to advocate 
 their business. I'd tell them to move on. I told some of them 
 once who were preaching on the streets of Effingham, that I 
 thought as the head of their Church had a herd of six wives 
 and a herd of forty odd children, that they had a lot of gall to 
 preach in our County. With a meaching air the leader said 
 "Thank you Mam". My, if I had only been Mayor! They 
 have not preached on the streets of Effingham since that, 
 though they no doubt will again, as they often have before. 
 They have a Church in the Southwest corner of Effingham 
 County thanks to some of Pandora's folks who let them into the 
 School Houses to preach. I broke up preaching in our school 
 houses by Mormons finally, but a little gang of them had got 
 going. I say things to them when I have a chance, in hopes to 
 turn their minds to better things, but 'they are "sot". 
 
 Lake Tahoe in the mountains was not a resort when we saw 
 it. It was a beautiful place. 
 
 I picked up a strange stone on the R. R. track in the Truck- 
 el Canyon, for we had quite a stop there, and a Sir Knight from 
 Virginia to whom I showed it, said it was a petrified sponge. I 
 suppose the great sea left it in that gorge of the mountains in 
 some of its overflows, Eons gone. 
 
 I was glad we had breakfast in Cheyenne, for the women 
 voted there. We saw great Hydraulic Engines tearing away 
 the mountain sides to get the gold hid in them, as we drew near 
 San Francisco, and finally we landed there to enjoy the cold 
 winds from the sea in the mornings, and the milder afternoons, 
 and eat the sweet little oysters they gather on the coast. We 
 did all the local things, the Zoo and Botanical Gardens, that 
 strange place Chinatown, in the shops, then down three stories 
 under ground where Chinese were packed like sardines in a 
 case, gambling and smoking opium. 
 
 We visited a Chinese Restaurant kept by a six footer of a
 
 A LOVE STORY 337 
 
 Chinaman, and saw a sort of Banquet where the men sat at 
 the table and the women behind their lords and masters, who 
 gave them "tid bits" from time to time. We drank tea made 
 in the Chinese style in this restaurant, and some of the ladies 
 were so frightened at the Chinese, one of them nearly fainted, ha, 
 ha. China town was kept as a show. .It could easily have 
 been squelched. But at that time Dennis Kearney needed it 
 to whet his fulminations on the Chinese. We visited some 
 Christianized Chinese; such charming people, who could speak 
 intelligently of the Chinese question. I visited the Presby- 
 terian Mission which helped Chinese girls sold as slaves, for 
 vice, to get away from that life. It was a place of exciting 
 adventures, and sometimes murder was done their girls. I 
 visited a woman with a "lily foot," and pursuaded her to let 
 me see it. I paid her $1.00 for her shoes and the sight of her 
 "golden lily foot". I also obtained a photo of a bound foot. 
 Eli Perkins, who was once at my home for a little reception, 
 said it was difficult to see such a foot or get a picture of it. I 
 obtained the photo, through the Missionaries. The Chinese 
 were very polite in the stores, even when people were exceed- 
 ingly rude to them, but to gentlemen and ladies they showed 
 their best in manners and in goods. Some day I wonder if the 
 hordes of China will overflow the world as the Goths and Van- 
 dals poured over the world once and changed its civilization. 
 
 The Chinese are building railroads and are moving up to 
 civilized ways, in war, as well as in the Arts, and run as a Re- 
 public now, -and enfranchised their women strange to say. 
 If Christian peoples were to accept and teach the Creed 
 of Jesus, and live by the Ten Commandments, and Beatitudes, 
 the peoples of the earth would become homogenious, wars would 
 cease, and men of all Nations would take hold of the skirt of 
 him who was a Christian and say ' 'I will go with thee for I see 
 that God is with thee", and there would be peace everywhere; 
 but that is a dream of Millenium, that will come true some day. 
 
 Nearly everybody now knows the sights in and about San 
 Francisco; the Cliff house with her sea lions, the great Pacific 
 Ocean rolling in laden with sea weeds; the grapes, figs, straw- 
 berries in August; every sort of fruit from oranges, limes, 
 lemons and plums to apples and nuts galore for food and re-
 
 338 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 freshment, and the Sir Knights had it all with wine, wine, wine, 
 if they wanted it, from the great wineries, and then the 
 flowers, poinsettas, lillies, roses every thing in the world of 
 flowers grows there. 
 
 On the great ship, the Ancon, we went on the blue waters 
 of the bay out to the Headlands and upon the open sea. It was 
 a trip worth while, if Neptune did not call for oblations. I got 
 off scot free and took in all I could, and snuffed the sea breeze 
 from the upper deck, but many were laid out and some were 
 very busy treating the sea to the best they had on hand. I 
 kept away from all that and enjoyed my first and only sail on 
 the Pacific. At Santa Clara I gathered sea weeds, where they 
 came in by the wagon load, and I have them pressed in an album 
 yet. I saw for the first time what Longfellow told us in 
 "Seaweeds": 
 
 "When descends on the Atlantic the gigantic storm wind of 
 the Equinox, 
 
 Landward in his wrath he scourges the boiling surges, 
 
 Laden with seaweeds from the rocks". 
 
 Longfellow had not seen the Pacific when he wrote that, 
 but the seaweed came in on the Pacific beaches just as it did on 
 the shores of the Atlantic, 
 
 The City of The Angels, Los Angeles, was not of the im- 
 portance, nor in the Public eye, as it is since the McNamaras 
 blew up buildings with high explosives, and the women of 
 California vote. It did not take long those days to exhaust the 
 City of Angels; but here we took the route to the great Yose- 
 mite Valley, down to Merced by rail, and from there by stage 
 and horses to the great gash in the Sierra called the Yosemite 
 Valley. Now a days the most of the travel into this beautiful 
 and wonderful valley is by way of a railroad; this was pros- 
 pected but not finished in 1883. At Merced the tourists piled 
 into a great coach, built on massive springs and drawn by five 
 horses. The coach would carry fourteen or fifteen people by 
 squeezing, and we were squeezed. 
 
 The place of honor was by the driver whose seat was 
 elevated. The foot hills passed we came to "Clarks", a famous 
 hostelry in the mountains where accomodations were excellent. 
 Tourists from all over the world came here. There were bears,
 
 A LOVE STORY 339 
 
 wolves, sometimes lions, and wildcats in the mountains, with 
 deer and other game those days, and the night we spent there 
 a gang of coyotes came near the Hotel and gave a serenade in 
 their best style, I tried to wake up, but though Mr. Kepley 
 shook me his best and called, I could only say "uh hu" to his 
 demands that I listen. It is like a dream to me. I was too 
 awfully, awfully tired with the bouncing up and down in that 
 big stage, and going up and down over hills and hollows, to 
 wake up. Our driver weighed about 250 avoirdupois and I 
 learned, by seeing him, how to take bounces at bad places. He 
 was a sight when his arms swung loose and he bounced. 
 
 By daylight we were up and off for the Valley, and we 
 began to climb the mountains is good earnest. The stage had 
 now six horses, hitched two by two, for the road was usually 
 very narrow on the mountain side, and sometimes when our 
 leaders turned a corner they were out of sight behind the rocks. 
 It was exciting for us when we galloped along; we could look 
 thousands of feet far, far below and a slip in the road would 
 have tumbled us over to destruction, and now and then a stage 
 did upset. We were shown where a few days before a stage was 
 held up by robbers and everybody's pockets looted. I was glad 
 we escaped. At Inspiration Point the valley bottom was three 
 thousand feet below; it made me shake, and some stout men 
 said "This is terrible"; there was nothing but a narrow shelf on 
 the mountain side to hold to, and that awful abyss below. We 
 could see the mountains peak on peak for miles around us. I 
 collapsed and had to go to bed, and be looked after and teaed, be- 
 fore I could go about. The Great Yosemite Falls twenty-seven 
 hundred feet high had run dry, for the season was very hot, 
 but the Bridal Veil blew softly to and fro like a soft tissue, 
 from a tremendous height. The Merced River ran swiftly 
 through the Valley after its stupendous tumble of seven 
 hundred feet at Vernal Falls. We went to Mirror Lake and 
 our Guide gave a "hallo" and woke echo after echo from the 
 bald summits of the mountains round about. I was moved to 
 repeat Tennyson's Lines from the "Bugle Song" 
 
 "Oh hark oh hear, how thin and clear, 
 And thinner, clearer farther going,
 
 340 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 As near and far from cliff and scar 
 The horns of Elfland faintly blowing." 
 
 Dear me, not a soul was in unison; they did not "sabe" at 
 all; I had as well addressed myself to the tall summits of the 
 mountains overhead. While a number of the Sir Knights took 
 a pack of lankey steeds and climbed the mountains to see Vernal 
 Falls tumble 700 feet over the rocks, and get scared almost to 
 death in fear of falling off the narrow foot paths on the jagged 
 rocks below, and then came back by Snows and the ragged 
 rocks, I stayed in the valley, gathered wild flowers, met the Ar- 
 tist Thomas Hill, who painted the historic meeting of the East 
 and West ends of the U. P. R. R., and waded in the edge 
 of the Merced River bare footed. I wanted to take a boat 
 ride but no one would accomodate me; they said it was danger- 
 ous, the water was deep and swift, and we might upset. The 
 Merced is so clear one can see the bottom and it is full of beau- 
 tiful trout that may be seen from the bridges that span it. 
 Mr. Hill spent his vacation here and fished for trout. His hat 
 was stuck full of fishing flies, and other paraphernalia of a 
 fisherman. We had some trout for breakfast, but they had 
 been out of cold storage too long, and I only sniffed them. 
 There was an old German who lived in the Valley who made 
 beautiful inlaid wood work. Mr. Kepley gave me a twelve 
 inch ruler inlaid with all the Yosemite woods. I found a great 
 Cone ten or twelve inches long under a huge sugar pine tree 
 several hundred feet high. The squirrels had not gnawed at it 
 yet. One seldom finds a perfect cone. At the great Sequoyas 
 visited, we took in two groups of them, the Calaveras and the 
 Monteray, we drove through the butt of one which had been 
 cut out and which let our stage through with ease. One of the 
 keepers gave me a cone of the sequoyas, to my great pleasure. 
 They are quite small, strange to say, though from the largest 
 trees men know. I stepped out of the stage at a place called 
 Chinqipin Flat, on our way out as we stopped for repairs of 
 some kind, and stretched out on the pine needles which covered 
 the ground. I had always heard it was a delightful experience, 
 so I tried it, gathering also some pine cones for souveniers. I 
 shall not soon forget the balsamic odors of the place, nor the
 
 A LOVE STORY 341 
 
 hour, nor the glamour of the great trees under which I reposed 
 for a while. 
 
 Our Knights were going home single and in bunches and 
 by car loads. They had paraded and marched and banqueted 
 and danced and had every sort of a good time in California and 
 along the route and I think a number of them went back to 
 California to stay. My Sir Knight and I took the Southern 
 Pacific at Merced and "trekked" for home. We crossed the 
 Mohave Desert. We made a stop at El Paso, crossed the Red 
 waters of the old Rio Grande River, to Paso del Norte, had 
 the customs officers claw into our satchels for countrabrand 
 goods, and then ran down to the old city of Chihuahua, with its 
 old, old Cathedral, whose old bell has a hole bosedbya Cannon- 
 ball. We saw its adobe and stone houses, its queer wagons, and 
 horned cattle; we saw women washing in the streams and hang- 
 ing the clothes on the sand to dry; we heard the people sneeze 
 and cough, hawk and spit; drank goats and donkey milk mixed 
 in our coffee; and ate food cooked on clay hearths without stoves, 
 and by a Chinese. It was interesting to see those people in the 
 midst of civilization living like the ancient peoples. We stopped 
 at Sweetwater in Texas, a most forlorn little town, took a team 
 and carriage and drove one hundred and fifty miles into the 
 Pan Handle; to visit some land we owned. That was a wild 
 country in those days with sheep and goat and cow ranches, 
 and dug outs for dwellings. The man who guided us the first 
 day out, was afterwards hanged for cutting a cow puncher's 
 throat. We slept on several nights at Ranches where there were 
 only men, but had I been the Queen, I couldn't have been better 
 treated. We had many curious adventures on this trip; some- 
 times we slept on the ground out of doors. We met Mexicans, 
 Texans, Alabamians, Missouri and Illinois men, in these lonely 
 places, where cattle raising was -the only business, and few 
 women and children were seen. Oh, it was a wild, lonely drive 
 and we saw many strange things among the rest wolves; we 
 were lost once, and only the fact that Mr. Kepley was raised in 
 half pioneer days saved us from serious trouble, for the roads 
 were mostly cow trails, and ranches thirty and forty miles apart. 
 Water well it was scarce. We had some in a keg and some- 
 times our horses had none all day. But we got back to Sweet-
 
 342 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 water at noon of the sixth day, just as the bells and whistles 
 sounded the hour of noon. The people really seemed glad to see 
 us. They thought we were "tender feet" bent on trouble. 
 The seasonal rains were impending and that meant swollen 
 streams and there were no bridges and there were quicksands 
 in many streams. We had no company that trip, only we two, 
 so it did look as if we were foolish, but we came out all right. 
 .We got our trunks and valises out of the Express office where 
 we left them, and soon landed at home tired, but satisfied Pil- 
 grims. 
 
 Other Triennials have been held on the Pacific Coast since, 
 but I think none could have been quite as interesting as this 
 first one. How like a dream it all is now as I live upon my farm. 
 I think of, and enjoy it over and over again, but though I am 
 wooed and wooed to live in California, I had rather live in good 
 old Illinois and on this side of the Rockies. We are not so pro- 
 vincial who live in the Middle West; life is, it seems to me, 
 larger and more varied. No, I had rather live in Illinois. 
 That "Glorious City", of San Francisco, climate and all, might 
 sink into the sea some day, if the earth forces were to awaken 
 as they did not long ago under this great City by the Sea. I 
 wrote a little sketch of the San Francisco Pilgrimage which was 
 published in the Alta Californian.
 
 A LOVE STORY 343 
 
 THE RED CROSS KNIGHT. 
 
 THE PILGRIMAGE. SAN FRANCISCO 1883. 
 
 From East, from West, from North, from South they come, 
 
 The fellow soldiers of our Master, Christ, 
 
 In Conclave meet, with wisdom to devise 
 
 And plan the work, and ways of Templar Knights. 
 
 From bustling marts of labor, and from shades 
 
 Of pleasant village homes, and fertile farms, 
 
 From rugged mountain sides, from level plains, 
 
 From lake and sea and river's pebbled brim, 
 
 They tread their pilgrim journey to the West, 
 
 And seek the "City of the Golden Gate". 
 
 The captive elements bend low, and yield 
 
 To puny man obedience; time melts away, 
 
 Space vanishes, when labor swart, and capital 
 
 Serve each the other well. 
 
 Along the iron highways speed the trains, 
 
 Freighted with precious lives; through day and night, 
 
 The solemn, silent night, they climb the heights, 
 
 Higher, ever higher, to purer air, 
 
 The heights sublime, yet awful in their power, 
 
 To hush the idle word, and bate the breath; 
 
 The <( Red Cross Knight" anew treads "Fairy Land". 
 
 He sees above him tower the cragged rocks, 
 
 While 'he, a pigmy, crouches at their feet, 
 
 And calls the echoes to cry back at him 
 
 From heights he cannot reach. 
 
 The mountain streams like waters of "Lodore" 
 
 Run down, they brawl, they rush, the thunder in 
 
 Their beds of rock their golden sands have lured 
 
 More to their doom, than Lorelei or than Nix; 
 
 Anon, they thumble down from heights severe 
 
 Like misty clouds that hide a bride's sweet face, 
 
 And shine through rainbow colors at their feet. 
 
 The hollow caverns of the hills so lone 
 
 And solitary for long Eons, now resound 
 
 With human voices, and reveal themselves to men.
 
 344 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 On hill and mountain meadow, dainty, sweet, 
 Upspring the scented sage, the daisy fair, 
 The asters, monkshood, painted cup, and rose, 
 The mountain columbine, the larkspur loved 
 Of children and the yarrow faithful friend- 
 While many a common weed looks friendly welcome up. 
 Across the hillocked plains, through canyons deep 
 Defiles, a city of the plains uplifts, 
 "The City of the Saints", embowered in fertile shades 
 Which industry and thrift have wrested from the waste, 
 Of barrenness and bitter desolation. 
 Down from their springs, the crystal waters run, 
 Diverted to the feet of herbage sweet, 
 Of leafage, and of flower, and fruit and field 
 Until it smiles the "Rose of Deseret"; 
 But ah, the waste of joy and happiness 
 In human hearts, that bear a cross, a woe, 
 That e'en the desert's desolation pales. 
 Across the dusty plain whose pungent clouds 
 Rise always to the sky we press along; 
 'Tis here where fell the early pioneers; 
 'Tis here their bodies festered in the sun; 
 And left their bones to bleach to dust again; 
 'Tis here the shallow mounds marked shallower~graves, 
 'Tis here earth, sky and mountain shed no boon 
 Of waters sweet and pure for man or beast, 
 And so they died. 
 
 The savage of the plains has vanished ; 
 Like desert rivers swallowed in the waste 
 They vanish, and are only known by those 
 Who hang pariah outcasts on its verge. 
 Where waters sweet break forth the desert smiles 
 And earth gives forth its blessings to mankind 
 A guerdon of redemption to the waste. 
 Now far above the earth we skim like birds, 
 From narrow ledges looking down beneath 
 To where the rivers shrink to silver threads 
 And men melt into specks upon the plain; 
 The hawk sails far below.
 
 A LOVE STORY 345 
 
 Above us rise the peaks serene in upper air, 
 
 Below the jagged rocks speak menance still. 
 
 Embosomed in the peaks repose the lakes, 
 
 Clear, pure and sweet, they mirror back again 
 
 Primeval pines and cedars to the view, 
 
 The silvery clouds cast shadows over all. 
 
 In deeps no plummet sounds rich gems lie hid; 
 
 Their finny tribes flash back from silvery sides 
 
 The sunlight deep below; 
 
 We "round the Horn", and pass the scarred hills 
 
 Where Mongol labor wrests from earth her gold, 
 
 To fill the vaults and conquer earth for men. 
 
 A tender haze of blue dims all the hills, 
 
 As down the canyon steep we toil and curve, 
 
 And loop and bend, and round the mountain's base and 
 
 side, 
 
 To valleys rich and rare far down below. 
 Now break the peaceful waters on the view 
 Of weary Knights; the countless towers and spires 
 Of "Frisco" rise, to greet his wondering eyes 
 This world within a city which may type 
 The brotherhood of man, and of our God 
 The Fatherhood and love. 
 Into this City has been poured the wealth 
 The mountains hoarded through the ages hoar, 
 The treasure rivers gathered from the hills. 
 Nature has lavished here her choicest stores 
 For man and beast. Would man could yield these boons 
 
 in kind again! 
 
 So endeth now the journey to the rim 
 Of Western lands. 
 
 THE KNIGHT'S MISSION. 
 
 To spread the Gospel, and redress foul wrongs, 
 The Red Cross Knight first entered in the field. 
 To fight the cause of truth, and error slay, 
 Was his first task in years now long agone.
 
 346 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 He guarded in his soul with knightly zeal, 
 
 The "Holy Mysteries", with discourse, arms, 
 
 Life, faculties, all consecrate to this. 
 
 In kindly courtesie he hailed his friends; 
 
 To foes, though they outnumbered three to one, 
 
 He turned no recreant face, but strong and free, 
 
 In purity, and firm in valorous faith, 
 
 He struck the foe or perished in the fray; 
 
 His sword once drawn, ne'r sheathed itself in vain; 
 
 No craven fear of death e'er dimmed his soul 
 
 The glorious cause he loved gave holy fire, 
 
 Which saw the end secure, nor counted lost 
 
 A life's blood spent to win it. 
 
 In white attire of innocence arrayed, 
 
 He led the pilgrims bands in fierce crusades, 
 
 'Gainst those who held the gentle Master's tomb 
 
 In Moslem hands most vile, 
 
 He lifted from the dust his fellow man; 
 
 To ladies in dstress gaive aid most courteous. 
 
 His was the task to 'stablish among men 
 
 The reign of Christ, the Lord, the Master soul 
 
 Whose Kingdom is to come in all the earth. 
 
 Oh, gentle Knight, the hour draweth nigh, 
 
 That shall test Knightly souls, if that they be, 
 
 In panoply for war, for Holy war, 
 
 That shall set up the Kingdom of our Lord, 
 
 On earth, that "Peace shall be, and good will to all men". 
 
 The Holy Mysteries of Brotherhood, 
 
 Of Wifehood, and of childhood, and of Home cry out to thee! 
 
 Fierce is the cry of labor 'twill not down 
 
 It grins and clacks its teeth in sturdy wrath, and will be 
 
 heard; 
 
 The wailing cry of childhood goeth up 
 From mills and crowded marts; 
 In prison cells, bright youth lie hid away ; 
 The air is heavy with the rain that beats 
 Down mothers' withered care-worn, faded cheeks, 
 Their sobbing fills the watches of the night 
 And robs the day of rest.
 
 A LOVE STORY 347 
 
 The home, where virtue broods and sings, is struck 
 
 By evil hands, and oftimes falls in woe 
 
 In bitter ruin to decay. 
 
 How shall God's Kingdom come, if these things be? 
 
 On every hand these ills press hard and sore, 
 
 The sufferers cry aloud for aid and help, 
 
 Their foes seem three to one. 
 
 Whence shall help come but from the Knightly throng 
 
 Who swear in innocence and purity, 
 
 To fight the war of TRUTH, and conquer wrong, 
 
 Nor sheathe the flashing blade, nor glittering lance 
 
 Till Error falls, and Right shall regnant be. 
 
 "Unto the Hills", the Psalmist sings, "I will 
 
 Mine eyes lift up, from thence all help shall come". 
 
 The mountain air is free, its Waters pure, 
 
 Who drinks of these, takes strength within his soul, 
 
 For deeds heroic, common though they be, 
 
 And scoffed of many men. 
 
 In mountain heights the gods, and Titans dwelt, 
 
 Whose deeds of fleshly prowess, stirred the earth. 
 
 Now moral prowess shames the age of flesh 
 
 When men may god-like rise to heights sublime, 
 
 Nor stoop like gods to ape the ways of men. 
 
 Christ went upon the mountain when He prayed, 
 
 He sat upon the mountain when He taught 
 
 Truths most sublime; 
 
 From mountain heights He bade the tempter flee, 
 
 And came to earth again, strong in His God; 
 
 From mountain heights He melted into Heaven. 
 
 "A Beauseant, A Beauseant" may then 
 
 The war cry be from soldier Knights 
 
 Till peace an happiness shall fall on all 
 
 In East and West, and North and South, 
 
 On mountain slopes and level plains serene, 
 
 And yours a finished task with full reward 
 
 From Him, whose Unity ye own.
 
 348 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 MY SAINT ELIZABETH 
 
 Since I beatified or canonized a Saint in the United States 
 of America, Elizabeth, of Teutopolis, Effingham County Illi- 
 nois, I read that "The Congregation of Rites in Rome, con- 
 sisting of the Cardinals of the Sacred College, are consider- 
 ing making a Saint of Monsignor" Newman, the first Roman 
 Catholic Bishop of Philadelphia. The Canonization of this 
 Bishop will, the article says, take until 1917 at the least, and 
 perhaps it will take 20 years to consider the matter, for as yet 
 no miracle that Bishop Newman performed has been discover- 
 ed. So it appears the first real Saint in America was canon- 
 ized by me, and I can say she did perform a miracle, for she 
 did what everybody said could not be done. She had the 
 Teutopolis saloon keepers indicted for breaking the law of 
 Illinois and that -miracle still works. So the first American 
 Saint is a Catholic. She worked a miracle; and perhaps 
 another miracle is the fact that she is canonized by a protestant. 
 The Canonization was done in America very quickly and exactly, 
 and St. Elizabeth if she is not worshipped, was used, and is 
 still used by the Lord, to accomplish work for him in the world. 
 Elizabeth of Teutopolis is a real saint.
 
 A LOVE STORY 349 
 
 WHAT THE FARMERS NEED IN POLITICS. 
 
 The Farmers ought to organize in every school district in 
 every state, and during the fall and winter months hold meet- 
 ings and decide what sort of legislation they wish. If once a 
 month the men and women would meet in the school houses and 
 talk and debate what laws would suit them and what not, and 
 then gather together at the County seat for a general meeting 
 and decide what the wish of the whole County was, and then 
 once a year hold a State Convention and see what the farmers 
 of the whole State wanted it would be a good thing, and the 
 farmer class could decide what they wished done, and then in- 
 struct the candidates who wished to go to the legislature what 
 was expected of them. 
 
 In Illinois it was voted not long ago to spend Twenty Mil- 
 lion Dollars for deep waterways, but before the legislature came 
 together, the voters decided they did not wish to have deep 
 waterways, which would probaly absorb a hundred million dol- 
 lars before it was finished, so the legislature refused to vote 
 the appropriations in spite of tremendous efforts made to get 
 that done, and the matter rests. The twenty million was voted 
 before due consideration, and so many things are voted in or 
 let come up in the legislature. If the farmers held meetings as 
 suggested, the states would have better laws, and more satis- 
 factory to the farmers who pay the bulk of the tax. If the 
 farmers were organized, and met as suggested, no man could 
 be elected to the legislature except he was pledged to vote for 
 what the farmer wanted. Let the farmers organize, to shape 
 legislation.
 
 350 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 "THE EVER FEMININE DRAWETH ON". 
 
 It is curious how women excel in great lines. To be sure 
 women have always done great deeds, but with all the disad- 
 vantages they have labored under, it is a wonder they amount 
 to much. I read lately where nine of ten of the great prizes 
 offered men and women in Great Britain were captured by 
 women. One would think by the law of heredity they could 
 take after their fathers in wit, but according to the old theolo- 
 gical and learned teaching it seems this is an error. However, 
 as Hugo long since said, "The ever Feminine Draweth on" 
 and the women captured nine of the ten prizes. 
 
 Joel, the old Prophet whose word Peter declared was ful- 
 filled at Pentecost, and long, long years before Hugo, declared 
 women were to be Prophets; so the natural law prevails and 
 will grow, and women increase in power. 
 
 Theodore Parker always prayed to our Father and Mother 
 God! Who to-day excels Frances E. Willard and Jane Adams 
 as teachers and reformers? Who excels Bernhardt, Adams and 
 Fisk upon the stage? Mary Somerville and Maria Mitchell 
 excelled in Celestial Mathmatics. Julia Ward Howe wrote the 
 only great Lyric of the Civil War. Madam Curie, ahead of all 
 moderns in her discovery of Radium, is denied a place in the 
 French list of fame because she is a woman. Elizabeth Dix 
 revolutionized jails, prisons, lunatic asylums and similar insti- 
 tutions of men. Who can give the long list of women who excel 
 in the highest places? 
 
 All hospital patients would die were it not for the women 
 nurses inspired by Florence Nightingale and Clara Barton and 
 the Nuns. What man has risen superior to the old time worn 
 Creeds and Theologies and lifted men and women Godward like 
 Mary Baker Eddy shaking the churches, and schools of medi- 
 cines? Hetty Green, as a financier, has taught, one may ac- 
 cumulate great wealth, and honestly. Helen Gould is the wise 
 steward of her father's great riches. Belle Gunderson as a 
 rogue excels all male malefactors. The law was in the begin- 
 ning and now is "God made man male and female and gave 
 them dominion over all things", and the woman is fast coming 
 to her own. The ever feminine is of the law, and is soon to be
 
 A LOVE STORY 351 
 
 accepted. So the great Frenchman was right in saying, ' 'The 
 ever Feminine draweth on". Women excel in every vocation 
 and, as the mother of the race, has kept herself free from bad 
 habits, and she is the Great Priestess of high thinking and high 
 living. It will be a glad day for the human race when she 
 comes into her own. 
 
 Buckle in his ' Influence of Women on the Advancement of 
 Knowledge" says that all the great modern discoveries of' the 
 world have been made by the womans method of thought, 
 which is the deductive method; and that way of thinking in- 
 volves the emotions, the love of the beautiful, and poetry, and 
 enthusiasm; that is the highest method of thought, and he 
 instances the law of gravitation by Newton, the metamorphosis 
 of plants by Goethe, the regularity of the formation of chrys- 
 tals by Hany, the vertebrate constitution of the human skull, all 
 discovered by the deductive mode of thinking and by poets except 
 Newton ; deductive thinking is the philosophic and speculative 
 method of thought, and out of it has come the largest truths. 
 Schofield in his Force of Mind, deplores the decay of the specu- 
 lative and philosophic mode of thought in medicine and surgery, 
 by which he says the greatest and best discoveries in both 
 have been made, by adherence to the deductive method, of 
 thought, and he laments specialization as barren in results. 
 Speculative and philosophic thinking are not much in vogue 
 now in medicine and surgery and study, allowed the inductive 
 method or man method of thinking is barren of results. 
 
 Buckle believes the old refined civilizations ended because 
 women were either regarded as chattels by the Romans 
 or as a means of diversion or toys as by the Greeks. No 
 civilization can endure that degrades its women; and no 
 civilization can rise to its best until it recognizes its women in 
 equality of citizenship. The world needs the deductive method 
 of thought for its highest uses, and Buckle says women keep 
 this methed of thought alive and hence advance the world in 
 knowledge of the highest. So as Hugo says "the ever feminine 
 draweth on".
 
 352 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 SONNET, WRITTEN IN A BIRTHDAY BOOK. 
 
 FOR MY SISTER, NORA. 
 
 When one may mark her natal day with joys 
 
 Of simple gifts that fullness hold of love, 
 
 And teaching truths that lift the soul above 
 
 Small thought the narrowing ruts that life alloys, 
 
 It's petty strifes, its poor ignoble toys, 
 
 Of vain adorning, and of ways that move, 
 
 Not on to beauty true, but idly rove 
 
 The fields of pleasure, and themselves employ 
 
 In self alone age stealing on apace 
 
 Shall find a soul in perfectness complete, 
 
 That in its span, of years has run a race 
 
 With all its gracious powers, full round and sweet; 
 
 No vain regrets her glory shall abase, 
 
 The fountain of eternal youth is at her feet.
 
 A LOVE STORY 353 
 
 I BRING HOUSES UP THE HILL 
 
 When my farm was first opened by my husband it was 
 hoped to make it a health resort. The great springs were me- 
 dicinal, and a number of them were up and down a beautiful 
 glen, and four houses were built along its sides. I did not like 
 them there when I came to handle the place, so I drew three 
 of them up the great hill and planted them on level ground. 
 They were small and light and not very hard to get up though 
 the hill was very steep and long. But the last one, a story and 
 a half house of seven rooms, was a problem, but I wanted it 
 up; it added to the value of my farm to get it on the upland 
 not only in looks, but otherwise. 
 
 I talked with the house movers and they said very cheer- 
 fully, "Tear it down and haul it up, and rebuild it". That, I 
 vowed, I would not do; lumber was so high and I knew the de- 
 struction that accompanied the tearing down process, and be- 
 sides, the whole roof was new and of the best cedar shingles. 
 No, I would not tear it down; it had to be hauled up. So I set 
 men at work raising it and getting it ready to be moved. 
 Everybody had an idea about the house, and chaffed with every 
 other one and with me about it. I brought a house mover 
 from Effingham, who proudly told me he had worked at that 
 business for thirty-seven years. He came, looked at the house, 
 and said dryly, "Yes, I can move the house, but I will tear it 
 all to pieces. You had best take it down and haul it up in
 
 t 
 
 PQ
 
 A LOVE STORY 355 
 
 wagons" etc. I felt mad and disgusted. He had agreed to let 
 me have his tackle and come down himself, and the tackle was 
 partly on the ground. What provoked me most was that all 
 the men on the job were in agreement with the house mover. 
 I gave him and his brother lunch and got them off the place. I 
 told the men "You work till night, and in the morning I will 
 tell you what to do"! I had worked hard with the men grad- 
 ing the hill ready to go up. I drove the horses and one of the 
 men managed the scraper. I fell down many a time in the 
 soft dirt as we turned and twisted on that grade to get ready 
 to haul the house up. We had to cut a number of trees out of 
 our track, and dynamite the roots. We had cut a quantity of 
 wood as props, to use in raising the house up, and dragged logs for 
 supports, etc. I felt mad; but the next morning I went down 
 as brassy as you please; I hoped to inspire a little confidence in 
 the workers after what the contractors had said, but who was 
 I to inspire men? A woman, ignorant of the art I was deter- 
 mined to use; but I had something worth while and that was 
 my will. I was determined to have that house hauled up the 
 hill. I had been to see a man in an adjoining County who had 
 a tackle and moved houses with a big traction engine, but 
 could not get him, he was too busy. I went to Effingham and 
 a man came to collect for a bill of lumber his father had sawed 
 for me. I knew he was used to timber handling, and saw mill 
 and lumber work, so I made a statement of my woes to him. 
 He said at once, "Why I could bring that house up the hill"? 
 Then I said "You are the man I want", and he arranged to 
 come down on the early train next morning. I ran to my Con- 
 tractor who was groaning with the Grippe. He said it- was not 
 possible for him to go down, but he let me have all the rest of 
 his tackle, which was a quantity, a capstan, a big rope, rollers, 
 and props and jacks. I had to run that Monday morning for 
 the time was short, but by twelve o'clock it was all loaded on 
 the local train, and at three p. m. my men ware loading it on 
 wagons at Mason, fifteen miles below, and it was out at my 
 farm by night. The next morning we all repaired to the house 
 and the hill. The moment my new man took hold of the stuff 
 I saw he knew how to apply power. He set the capstan, 
 hitched a pulley to a post, and put on the big ropa. He took a
 
 356 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 lot of telephone wire we had and soon we had a rope walk 
 going and a good wire cable made. I took the middle section 
 and obeyed orders, while he and another man took the two 
 ends. We had another wire cable we borrowed by an aban- 
 doned stack on the Illinois Central Railroad, and now, the 
 cable all on, the horses were hitched to the capstan, and 
 around and around they went with a good driver. The capstan 
 squeaked and clucked, the rope whined, the house creaked and 
 groaned and started, and up she came, slowly but surely. 
 Though it was winter, and the ground soft often, and it rained, 
 causing us to wait often, one lovely Friday evening we arrived at 
 the top of the hill, on level ground. We all gave a wild hurrah, 
 for "couldn't" had yielded to "could", and the mind of man 
 had triumphed over matter, and we knew the law that over- 
 came resistance. The house went quickly up the road now, and 
 landed where I wanted it, and we set and leveled and plaster- 
 ed it. I felt I had a right to crow, and I did. I had proved 
 many a thing by that, and it is always easier since for me to 
 get hard things done. 
 
 All my houses were now up the hill and the farm was more 
 valuable for it, and it gave me a confidence in myself, who had 
 done what the Contractors had said could not be done, and I 
 got a new label, which was a good thing" for me to wear.
 
 357 
 
 "GO YE, AND PREACH THE GOSPEL TO ALL NATIONS". 
 
 Christianity is a Mission. Jesus emphasied again and 
 again to his disciples, that it was His will, and their business to 
 preach the Gospel to all peoples. Yet it has been a very hard 
 matter to get Missions on their feet. The Church denounced 
 them; first because as many said if the Gospel were not preached 
 to the heathen they might escape damnation, whereas if it were 
 preached to them and they rejected it, they were sure to be 
 damned. ' 'Then why bother about them anyway, it costs so 
 much to save a heathen, etc., and charity begins at home, and, 
 therefore, I will give nothing to Missions". 
 
 Chaplain McCabe once tried to get a hearing before a 
 gathering of Millionaires who met in New York, for his Mission 
 work, but they would none of him, and yet, if they had known! 
 
 There is a saying, "Commerce follows the Flag", but they 
 who say it, do not know perhaps what is true, that the Flag fol- 
 lows the Missionary. Long before the flag, was the Missionary, 
 trying to carry out the last will and testament of Jesus Christ, 
 "Go Ye and preach the Gospel to all creatures". The story of 
 man began in the rich alluvial valleys of the Euphrates, the 
 Tigris and the Nile; in Palestine came Jesus, and then the 
 Apostles who traveled still farther West into the Greek Archa- 
 pelago, and the Islands of the Aegean Sea, and the Mediter- 
 annean, and into Italy and Spain, and later on into Great Britain 
 their Bretheren went as Missionaries; Then came Columbus, 
 then from the British Isles and other lands in due season came 
 the Pilgrim Fathers and America was taken for Christ. Obedi- 
 ent to a powerful impulse, we of America traveled West across 
 the Continent and on and on West to the Phillipines. 
 
 Missionaries had long since pre-empted ground in Japan, 
 in Asia, in Africa, in all the Islands of the Sea, in Australia, 
 Polanesia, New Zealand, they were everywhere. 
 
 Dr. Adoniram Judson captured Siam and Burma for God. Da- 
 vid Livingston raised a plea for Africa, but the Church was di- 
 vided. However, he was sent to Africa, and the London Geogra- 
 phical Society gave him aid. He was much maligned and was lost 
 to the world for a long time. Stanley was sent to Africa to find 
 him, by help of James Gordon Bennett of America, and he was
 
 358 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 found. Livingston discovered the sources of the Nile, he named 
 the Albert and Victoria Nyanza's, and many valuable geogra- 
 phical discoveries were attributed to him. He opened the dark 
 Continent because he was a Missionary, and his heart was hot 
 with a desire to obey the commands of Christ and take the 
 Gospel to the poor heathen of that dark region. Livingston 
 died; his converts buried his heart in Africa; they embalmed 
 his body and carried it over swamps and jungles and through a 
 region swarming with savage beasts, to the coast, whence it 
 was sent a precious memento to England. Years passed and 
 the men who followed the flag and the Missionary, planned and 
 built and opened the great Nile dam at Assuan, one of the mar- 
 vels of the world. This dam which, by storing the Nile waters, 
 added billions to the world's wealth and ended famines in 
 Egypt, is directly due to the work of Livingston, the Mis- 
 sionary, and yet no one remembered; he was not mentioned 
 when all the world gathered at Assuan, in pomp and ceremony 
 to open that great dam of which he was the initial power; they 
 did not even know. 
 
 It was the Missionaries, and the native Christians they had 
 made, who, during the Boxer War in China, saved the foreign 
 legations at Pekin ; and yet these representatives of the Nations 
 had no use for Missionaries before. 
 
 Really the most of them looked with contempt on Mission- 
 aries. I see the work of the Missionaries in the Phillipines has 
 attracted notice of the highest minds now. At last the whole 
 world is an open book. Even Thibet with her grand Lama, is no 
 longer shut, thanks to the Missionaries. 
 
 Asia, Africa, Europe, Australia, Polanesia, New Zealand, 
 Hawaii, the Islands of the Sea, have all been conquered by the 
 Missionaries for Christ and for the love of Christ. 
 
 After the Missionaries come the flags of the Nations, then 
 civilization, then the wealth of the earth is made manifest, but 
 it is not Missions or Missionaries who get it; and the rich world 
 still sneers and grudges part of what the Missionary brought 
 them, to extend this beneficent work. Ah "what fools these 
 mortals be". 
 
 The story of Missions reads like a Bible. What horrible 
 sufferings the Missionaries endure and have endured, and yet
 
 A LOVE STORY 359 
 
 they gave to the world who scoffed them, blessings of all kinds. 
 To those who are in it the story reads like a miracle, and the 
 "Miracle of Missions" is the title of a set of thrilling tales of 
 Mission work, I belong to two Missionary Societies, I like to 
 be at the front of great movements as far as possible. 
 
 After I read the life of David Livingston I was certain how 
 the Boer War would end. With all their pious claims the Boers 
 were disobedient to God's laws, and they came to an end as a 
 Government, as a People. Livingston was long dead when 
 that War broke out, but he recorded the deeds of the Boers as 
 to their treatment of the Natives and Missonaries; when the 
 Boer War came on it read "Thou art weighed in the bal- 
 lance and found wanting; this day shall thy kingdom end". 
 We need to obey the command and ' 'Go preach the Gospel to 
 all Nations".
 
 360 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 "AS GOD LIVES WHATSOEVER IS EXCELLENT IS PERMA- 
 NENT." EMERSON. 
 
 It is man who has free will. If in bonds of the law about 
 him he decides to do a thing he can, and he can keep doing it, 
 and if it is good it will persist; if it is evil it will end, not always 
 in his day; if it is a general evil or wrong he does, some day it 
 will end. Christianity is right, it prevails ; Paganism was wrong, 
 it ended; Human Slavery was an evil, it has virtually ended; 
 the old dogmas of the Church were evil, they are virtually ended; 
 the liquor traffic is an evil, it draws near its end; the subjection 
 of women is an evil, it draws near its close; prostitution is an 
 evil, it will end; vivisection is an evil of the most dreadful sort, 
 it is bound to end; Monarchial Governments are evil, they will 
 end. 
 
 In the beginnings Q the Evils, almost everybody is agreed 
 to them. But one comes objecting then another, and another, 
 and the clash of human wills begins. 
 
 First there is contempt, then scorn, then the clash and 
 battle of the opposing forces. The will of God appears at last 
 and some submit, and later comes the end; nothing can stop it. 
 "It is the Providence that shapes our ends rough hew them 
 as we will". 
 
 Men may run riot with an evil, and it is permitted, but 
 there will come a day when, sick and sore with the struggle, 
 and beaten by adverse numbers, they are obliged to yield, and 
 the evils end and God, through man, his co-worker, triumphs. 
 It has always been so; it always will be so. 
 
 Men have been hanged, burned, drowned, have been tor- 
 tured to death to obliterate their efforts and ideas, but it has 
 only hastened the end. I heard the Honorable John M. Palmer 
 of Illinois tell at the meeting of the Survivors of the Constitu- 
 tional Convention of 1847, that at that time he'd have wagered 
 all he was worth or hoped to possess, that slavery could not end 
 in the United States. "But", he said "I have lived twenty-five 
 years to see it gone". 
 
 At the time of the Jeffries-Johnson prize fight a policeman 
 in Effingham said to me, and oh, how hot he was, for he had 
 just heard the white man had been beaten by the Negro, "All
 
 A LOVE STORY 361 
 
 the Niggers ought to be killed". What for", said I, "the Niggers' 
 as you all know did not come to this Country; white men went to 
 their country and chased them, and caught them and chained 
 them, and put them on ship board and brought them to this 
 country so they would have men they could work and not pay. 
 How would you like that, and what do you want to have them 
 killed for, after we brought them here?" He shut up and 
 cleared out. I stood on the steps of a Bank as the men and 
 boys came out of a popular saloon, little boys too, the day of 
 that fight, after they felt like a pack of whipped dogs, and men 
 all over the land felt the same way, and in a loud voice I cried 
 as I clapped my hands "Thank God, the Negro whipped the 
 White man. I never thought to pray for a prize fight, but I've 
 asked the Lord to let the Negro whip to-day. It's the last drop 
 in the cup of our debasement on that subject". It hurt their 
 feelings, I wanted it to. I was a heavy tax payer, I rankled 
 under the fact that our men who could, if they wished, enfran- 
 chise women in all our states, refuse, and then enfranchise the 
 Negro; and I wanted the black man that was enfranchised over 
 me and over other women to whip their white champion, sound 
 and well, they needed that punishment and thank the Lord, he 
 did, and prize fights are ended in America with it, for which I 
 am thankful also. 
 
 In the early days of the war no man who went out to war 
 marched out to end slavery. Perish the thought! Every man 
 would have cast down his gun and made tracks for home. Even 
 the Quakers who were making money out of cotton kept still 
 as mice, except a few of them. The underground Railway was 
 in active operation. A few despised women and men, among 
 them Theodore Parker. Lloyd Garrison, and others, sent their 
 fiery darts abroad. The Mexican War, the Nebraska Bill, the 
 Missouri Compromise, the Kansas Troubles. Had engaged Con- 
 gress. Down in Virginia John Brown of Kansas said to the 
 Negro, "No one cares for slavery and you; here is a torch, 
 burn; here is a gun, shoot". John Brown knew he ran his 
 head in a noose and he went to his scaffold as Christ went to 
 the Cross, and he was hanged good and dead. No sooner was 
 John Brown dead than the Union Army began to sing a song 
 everywhere, that ran; "John Brown's body lies mouldering
 
 362 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 in the ground, but his soul is marching on";, and it will march on, 
 forever, till the end of the time. Julia Ward Howe was inspired 
 with her magnificent Lyric "The Battle Hymn of the Repub- 
 lic" to that old tune of John Brown's Body; and "Our 
 God is Marching On". Abraham Lincoln signed the de- 
 crees of God with his blood, and slavery was ended everywhere 
 on the earth, as well as in America. With John Marshall as 
 the Expounder and Lincoln as the Defender of the Constitution, 
 through unavoidable war, we are under God a United Country, 
 cemented together for good and "Marching On". There is no 
 longer a North, nor a South. Nobody wants that any more. It 
 is the United States of America under one flag, a deeply united 
 people, and to be more united in the future thantiow. The Ex- 
 cellent, under God, . persists. 
 
 Why speak of the wrongs of women, they are patent; or of 
 the old dogmas of the Church; or of the Liquor Traffic; or of 
 Prostitution, all of them with the mark of Cain upon them and 
 soon to cease? Of Vivisection, the latest of the evils that has 
 come to torment the dumb animals and to menace the race, and 
 which will run its course and cease, but which at present is in 
 vogue. The Excellent is the permanent It is the will of God.
 
 A LOVE STORY 363 
 
 CULTURE AND CREDULITY 
 
 It is strange that we are given to claiming "Culture" as 
 the highest of the conditions for a man or woman, and so much 
 knowledge, so much travel, the ability to keep a certain poise 
 of body, or expression of countenance, clean hands and nails, a 
 studied grace and elegance, to eat with a fork instead of a/ 
 knife, to sip from the side of a spoon instead of from the end 
 of it, to speak in a voice trained to an even pitch, to wear gar- 
 ments atuned to the fashion, to be choice in the use of words, 
 to be able to paint or write, or sing, is called Culture; and 
 many seek after it. To violate any of the rules is dubbed 
 vulgar. I have seen those who broke all the rules of refine- 
 ment and culture, as the books rate them, and yet they were 
 so honest and so good all through that they grew upon one till 
 a charm from the soul within illuminated them like a halo. 
 There are those refined in every way, they seem like pure gold, 
 but from the cold and callous heart within, there steals a chill 
 that makes one almost shiver and shrink within* himself. 
 
 "Kind hearts are more than coronets, and simple faith 
 than Norman blood" wrote one who knew true Culture. One 
 who has all the learning of the schools and who torments a 
 poor brute, is denied of what makes culture real. A certain 
 woman with learning, and the polish of education, and the cul- 
 ture of religion was so grossly impertinent to a stranger in her 
 house because of a difference in faiths, that she caused her to 
 shed tears. Had she the real culture? Why are we so credu- 
 lous as to take the culture of education and refinement, for the 
 real culture that springs from the heart, even though the gar- 
 ments are soiled, the voice harsh, the hands grimy with hard 
 toil, and the nails stubbed and dirty? Poor "Ould Pumeloe", 
 Jansie her daughter, in her loud dress, and Mulvaney, had a 
 culture that was real. Well, that is one of the queer things of 
 life. One may love all the beautiful things in Nature, and 
 beautiful garments and cleanliness, and soft voices and music, 
 but be unable for lack of time or money to have any of these, 
 yet, be possessed of a real refinement and culture. Let us not 
 be so credulous as to be taken in by the spurious, instead of the 
 real culture of the heart, and so credulous of the false, so blind 
 to the true, refinement and culture. 

 
 364 
 
 THEY TRY TO TAKE ME IN 
 
 Everywhere things crop up that are not as they ought to 
 be. 
 
 I had a gray mare that a man wanted to buy of me and I 
 finally agreed to take $90 for her, though she was worth more. 
 He paid me $10 to bind the bargain and asked if she might 
 stay at my farm a few days, as she was not shod and the roads 
 were rough. I said, ''Yes, a few days, but not long". He 
 was to fetch me the $80 due on her before she was delivered. 
 A couple of days later my "boss" phoned me, "S is here 
 after the mare, shall I deliver her"? Said I, "Has he a writ- 
 ten order from me"? "No". I had told my people she was 
 only to be let go on a written order from me. "Has he the 
 money, the $80 due on her"? "No". "Well, she can't go". 
 "He says to come to the phone and talk with him". "Tell 
 him I do not transact business over the phone but at my of- 
 fice". "Well, be says go to the bank and ask if he hasn't the 
 money to pay for her". "Tell him he must attend to his own 
 business. I have enough to do to attend to my own". (I 
 found later he had nothing at the bank. ) "Well, he says if he 
 can't have her to-day he will not take her at all". "Tell him I 
 don't care whether he takes her or not", and rung off. 
 
 The following Tuesday the gentleman appeared at my office 
 so surprised that, because we were such "good friends" I had 
 refused him the mare. He looked worried for fear I would de- 
 clare a forfeit on the $10 he had paid as a guaranty. Then he 
 said, "If I pay the $80 can I have the horse"? "Yes, you 
 can", and off he went. I had a young lawyer friend who came 
 in at the same time my horse buying friend did, and I asked 
 him to stay while we talked. He had had much experience in 
 horse buying. I said when my "dear friend" went out, 
 "Harry, what do you think of that for a horse sale"? -He 
 laughed heartily and said, "Well, if he had got that mare 
 you'd never have got your money". When my "dear friend" 
 came back with the $80 he received an order for his property. 
 I had a friend, a widow, a farmer's wife, who lost a fine mare 
 after her husband's death by the same scheme laid to get mine. 
 
 I had a field lush with blue grass that was much coveted as
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 pasture, but I would not rent it as the fences were not very 
 good, and besides, I thought it worth more to plough under as 
 humus for the next year's crop. A man came to rent it and, 
 as the winter was open, he was to plough it in February. He 
 was to come to me to sign his contract, but he came not, 
 though he came to town, went to my lawyer and told him I 
 was not at home, which I was, and the office was open and 
 another person busy all day in it. I wrote and told] him to 
 come sign his lease; then I heard he was trying to sublet my 
 land to other parties, so I rented to another man. Then I 
 found my field full of cattle belonging to yet another man who 
 had tried to rent it of me. I ordered them out instead of tak- 
 ing them up as I should have done, and demanded pay. This 
 party told me about forty lies and finally refused to pay me at 
 all. It was not worth lawing over so I rested. He rented 
 land adjacent to me, and my ford had always been used by the 
 parties who rented that land. I ordered him to stay off my 
 land and make his own ford. I posted a "No trespassing" 
 sign on my land; he could not pasture his stock field, because I 
 would not allow him to use my ford or my field. I forbade him 
 and his to go over any of my roads, which he had often done to 
 save time and work for himself. I think he learned that he 
 made nothing by his meanness and dishonesty. The neighbors 
 laughed, and they tell me that to make him "hot", someone 
 needs only ask him when he was on my land last. 
 
 The man who wanted to rent the 80 acres went upon it and 
 ploughed a few times across it after I had rented to another, 
 and then set fire to my grass to burn it off. He intended to 
 try and hold it in spite of me. I saw the fire and raced over.as 
 fast as my team could take me. The fire had run away from 
 him and was racing for the fences, and he and his son chased 
 it to put it out and save the fences. Said I fiercely, "What are 
 you doing on my land"? "I rented it". "No you didn't. Put 
 out that fire and get off of here, and don't you come back 
 again or I'll see to you". He said, I reckon you'll let me have 
 my plough. " "Yes, take your stuff and go, and don't you 
 come back again, ' ' and that ended the matter. 
 
 I had a tenant who seemed all right, but when it came to 
 our final settlement he made a claim of $20 on me, and went off
 
 366 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 like a torpedo, threatening to sue me. I was astounded for he 
 had not the shadow of a claim, but he desired to beat me out 
 of $20. A woman is foolish to bandy words under such cir- 
 cumstances with men, so I sent for my Attorney and they had 
 it out and I made a concession to get rid of him. He had the 
 gall to want to rent of me again, and when by some under- 
 handed work with others he had to have a law suit to get 
 another place, I was obliged to order him off of my place by 
 law to get rid of him. 
 
 I had another tenant that I offered land to use, for work to 
 be done; he did four days work and claimed twelve. When the 
 corn was in, and scrambled by the cultivator a time or so, he 
 hitched up and went a pleasuring, also got drunk and had a 
 good time according to his ideas, and when the corn was ripe 
 tried to sell it. The man he offered it to asked me if I would 
 allow him to dispose of it. ' 'No, I said, not till I am paid my 
 rent". Then my tenant came with the same question. I told 
 him no. "Will you buy me out" said he, I said, "I will send 
 men to judge the acreage and the crop and then I will tell 
 you", I sent my tenant who later flew up and threatened to 
 sue me. He had not showed up at that time, and I sent two 
 others. My tenant on the place sent in a judge and one of 
 mine was not allowed to serve, though I did not at the time 
 know it, and it was reported to me that there were 20 acre 
 in cultivation. The corn on it would average they said 30 bushels 
 to the acre which I was to give fifty cents per bushel for less 
 three cents per bushel for gathering. I viewed the ground 
 after their report and it seemed to me there were not twenty 
 acres of it. So I concluded to~call in the County Surveyor and 
 I took him down early one morning and had a tenant carry his 
 chains etc., while the party who farmed it viewed their work. 
 The Surveyor found less than 12 acres of ground in corn. I'd 
 have been out eight acres of corn or 240 bushels had I not call- 
 ed the Surveyor in, and would have lost about $120. I learned 
 later that farmers know how to walk lines and measure acres 
 quite well, but I was supposed to be an ignoramus, and the 
 man who was on the Committee for my tenant had a mortgage 
 on my tenant's horses. I did not then understand why my 
 Committee man was squeezed off. I told my friends these
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 things, farmers and others, and they laughed and retold them 
 over the phones and others laughed and retold, and so I took 
 care of myself in a peaceable way and the best I could. It was 
 well for all to learn as soon as^possible I was not a town green- 
 horn to be taken in, and that I did not enjoy the game of snipe 
 hunting. They were a foolish set of men after the Surveyor 
 got through. I have good, kind friends among my farmer 
 neighbors and others, but some men will run over a woman if 
 they can; they despise her if she lets them, and hate her if she 
 blocks the game. But I had rather be hated for defending my 
 rights than to be despised as a "low life" as Perlmutter and 
 Potash were fond of saying. So I was kept, in all these 
 schemes to take me in. I always asked God to lead me and to 
 bless the works of my hands, but I am not excused from doing 
 all I can myself, and it quickens one to feel the power that 
 runs the Universe is our power if we so desire it, and will it.
 
 368 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 THE BLUE JAY. 
 
 Oh roguish robber of thy feathered mates, 
 
 In coat of steely blue, all checked in white and black, 
 
 We hear thy "coogle, coogle" from the tree tops, when 
 
 On mischief bent thou callest to thy mates, 
 
 To rob a new found nest of eggs or downy birds; 
 
 Or pluck from off the jealous guarded tree 
 
 The juicy, ruddy cherries, ripe and sweet; 
 
 Ah, naughty rogue with saucy lifted crest, 
 
 We think thy pretty coat is the best part of thee, 
 
 As on low tree tops, on the fence or earth, 
 
 Thou challengest thy humbler mates, 
 
 To test their strength with thee.
 
 369 
 
 SUPPLEMENTAL LIVES 
 
 There are so many poor souls on earth who have to bear 
 the sins of others all their lives. Some are so poor and despised 
 that every hand and every foot seems to be against them. If 
 we were not so afraid of soiling ourselves. 
 
 I lately read once again, of that sweet Quaker Saint Eliza- 
 beth Fry, how she went through prisons, poorhouses, jails and 
 Asylums for the Insane, associating with herself other good 
 women, and among the most vicious and violent and brought 
 the peace and the order of Heaven. All of us can find some one 
 who needs us, and we can let them lean on us, and of our surplus 
 we can give strength enough to keep many of these weak ones 
 irajine with the good. 
 
 I befriended a woman who was a harlot. She had brought 
 forth children with no certainty as to their fathers; she was the 
 prey of evil men ; she was a town scandal. One good Catholic 
 woman had compassion on her and helped her. She fell ill and 
 was so notorious and dirty on her premises no one would go 
 near her. Her children were scape goats for all sorts of things. 
 The police insulted her at will, once shooting a pet dog that 
 guarded her door. I took her in charge, rebuked, admonished 
 and corrected her, gave to her and begged for her, and many 
 of the community were scandalized thereat. A good woman 
 was willing to clean up her premises, and together she and I 
 cleaned and scrubbed with soap and water and brush and broom 
 and mop. She was humble and did mend her ways, but 
 no one believed. I had to make a fight for her; I raked the 
 police who shot her dog, I felt as badly as she did that the little 
 friend who loved her and her children whom so many despised, 
 and who helped to watch and keep her when evil men sought 
 to do her wrong, was- slain and died in agony at her feet and at 
 her own door. I looked after the children who were all boys, 
 and scolded and encouraged, and taught them the best I knew. 
 They repaid me by deeds. One day two of them came to see 
 me after being very badly treated, and while one threatened 
 what he'd do to pay back, the other said, "Boys like us have 
 no chance". "No" I said , "you do not, but you will just have 
 to be good anyway and do your level best". And I told the
 
 370 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 other to shut up his threats as it was foolishness. The boys 
 grew up and were all good boys. They took care of their 
 Mother, which is more than many with better opportunities do. 
 All are grown and the mother has no more trouble for the future. 
 It is easy for such boys to get into jail and into the Pen, when 
 no one cares for them. I was always thankful I had a chance 
 to help do God's will for these lads. 
 
 There was another, an orphan, who had a drunken father 
 and was knocked about, and I helped him in all sorts of ways 
 when others only turned a cold shoulder to him. He got into 
 jail and from there into Reform School, and yet he was not a 
 bad boy, but he was out of his County and among strangers. 
 He wrote to me from a jail and wanted reading matter. He 
 came directly to me when he got out. He became a successful 
 farmer and an honest man, and I feel honored by his friend- 
 ship which is sincere. Everybody has such chances; many do 
 this work, but not all who might. "Let us who are strong help 
 the weak" says Paul. Yes, let us. It strengthens us, when 
 we help those who need our aid sorely. I look at all the places 
 where people let the wretched lean on them Schools, Refor- 
 matories, Settlements, good Poor houses, Old People's Homes, 
 Childrens' Homes, Social Settlements refuges of all sorts; the 
 noble work of the W. C. T. U. of the Salvation Army; of Wm. 
 Booth, Jane Adams, Frances Willard, Dorothea Dix, Florence 
 Nightingale, Clara Barton, Ben Lindsay and so many many 
 others, all as good as Saints and Angels to the afflicted and 
 needy. But in each community there is work for us every one 
 to do. We need to be Supplemental Lives to many.
 
 A LOVE STORY 371 
 
 GOD'S ESTIMATE OF MAN. 
 
 ' ' What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! How 
 infinite in faculty! Inform and moving how express and ad- 
 mirable! In action how like an Angel! In apprehension how 
 like a God"! Shakespeare. 
 
 ' 4 7 will make a man more precious than fine gold; even a 
 man than the golden wedge of Ophir" . Isaiah. 
 
 In these days when human life seems so cheap, and when 
 they who contribute individually or collectively to the death of 
 a man and make so little of the loss of him to his family, it is 
 refreshing to read that God, puts a high financial value on man 
 as a man. I was much troubled one year to awaken the drink- 
 ing men of my County and the big boys to a sense of their real 
 value as men, and of the too light valuation they and others place 
 upon themselves as men, when I ran across Isaiah's thought. 
 I asked my old time teacher and friend in Washington, D. C. , 
 Wm. T. Harris, to find me the value of the golden wedge of 
 Ophir, for no tables that I knew of gave its value. He sent 
 me word its value was estimated at about three hundred and 
 fifty thousand dollars, over a quarter of a million of dollars. If 
 we were to estimate the financial value of man according to 
 the standard given in Holy Writ, human life would speedily 
 become more precious. As it is, we debase and debauch men, 
 and when they die or get killed as a consequence, we call them 
 "poor creatures", and if their mothers, wives, or children sue 
 for the loss sustained by their death as the head of the family, 
 the verdict rendered will be "nil", or less than the price of a 
 good horse in many instances, and the Attorney's fee to be 
 paid out of that. I knew a man killed on a Railroad track with a 
 bottle of saloon whiskey in his pocket. He was so drunk he 
 was crawling over a cattle guard on all fours when a train 
 struck and killed him. He had a wife and six children. He 
 earned them a living, and they got one hundred and fifty dol- 
 lars in damages when they sued, and had their Attorney's bill 
 to pay out of that. I knew two little lads whose mother was 
 dead and the grandmother kept them while the father made
 
 372 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 the living. He was killed while trying to board a train while 
 drunk. The children got nothing and were put in an institu- 
 tion to be supported by the people, while the men who sold the 
 father the drink, contrary to law, that caused his death were 
 left scot free. 
 
 I urged this matter upon men. Why do that which will 
 cheapen you financially so that when you are killed as a result 
 of the drink, you are worth less than a good horse? Try and 
 be worth all the good Book says you are. Be worth three hun- 
 dred and fifty thousand dollars at the least and raise the value 
 of human life. The Old Book is full of wisdom. ' 'Thou shalt 
 not kill". A man has large money values, as a Son of God. 
 When men measure up to the thought of the Lord that a man 
 is worth three hundred and fifty thousand dollars of the finest 
 gold, human life will not be so cheap as now, nor will men sell 
 their fellow men by evil things that destroy. The value of 
 human life will rise when we measure it to the God ideal.
 
 A LOVE STORY 373 
 
 STATUES OF WOMEN 
 
 The first statue of a woman I ever saw, outside of the 
 Virgin Mary, and mythological characters, was in New Orleans 
 in 1885. "Margaret", as she is called, was an unlearned Irish 
 woman who kept a bake-shop, and her heart was so full of love 
 and sympathy for the helpless that every day she gave bread 
 to children who needed it and the poor she never refused. 
 Margaret grew rich, and she gave her riches away in good 
 works. When she died the City of New Orleans gave as a 
 memorial to her, a statue. It stands in a well known square. 
 Margaret, carved in marble as she looked in life, sits in an arm 
 chair, upon a pedestal, a little child beside her, and is a re- 
 minder of a gracious life full of good deeds, and of love to God 
 and love to the little children and to the poor. 
 
 The statue of Frances E. Willard, the great National Head 
 of the "Woman's Christian Temperance Union", was the gift of 
 the State of Illinois to the United States of America, and 
 stands in Statuary Hall in the National Capitol at Washington, 
 the only woman there. I think there is a statue of Sacajawa 
 at Portland, Oregon, famous as the guide of the Clark and 
 Lewis expedition that discovered and appropriated for the 
 United States of America the Northwest Territory. 
 
 The heads of Clara Barton, Susan B. Anthony and Eliza- 
 beth Cady Stanton in bas relief adorned the grand staircase of 
 the great State House at Albany, N. Y. , before the great fire 
 there. This is all, so far as I know, of Statues erected to 
 women in America, except maybe a few in cemeteries. In the 
 old world there are many statues, but few to women except to Vic- 
 toria. I heard of one in Wales set up to a woman by the miners. 
 There are plenty of statues of men, and the major part of them 
 erected by National or State funds. Public men of every kind 
 and character are represented. Why not a statue of Julia 
 Ward Howe, who wrote the one great lyric of the Civil War, 
 "The Battle Hymn of the Republic"? Why not one of Anna 
 Ella Carroll, who planned the Campaign of the Tennessee which 
 made the close of the war a finality, and who wrote war tracts 
 that preserved our credit abroad during the Civil war. Boston 
 refuses to allow Mrs. Howe's picture to hang in Fanuel Hall.
 
 374 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 What a satire on liberty. It is akin to the guillotiningof Madame 
 Roland. Anna Ella Carroll was refused a pension and died 
 poor, cared for by friends, and yet the money of women has 
 gone to set up statues to men. Let us demand some recogni- 
 tion of our noble women as well as of our noble men hereafter. 
 We have plenty we ought to commemorate. Let us drop 
 predjudice and get up an allegorical figure of the farmer 
 woman. Ceres does not fully represent her, if it takes a 
 woman with an Amazonian pose and with a face as grim as 
 fate to terrify Chicago with "7 will". Surely the women of 
 the farm who mean, and do work success to our great Republic, 
 ought to be commemorated in bronze or marble or both. 
 
 Too, oft women everywhere might say with Shakespeare, 
 "Let fame which all seek after in their lives be writ in death 
 upon my brazen tomb". That is where most women get it as 
 the "relict" of some John Smith, or Tom Jones, who married 
 soon again after she was worn out, with child bearing and 
 grafting, and hard work. Let us have some statues to women. 
 Their virtues and their labors need commemoration. They are 
 as mothers and wives the solid substratum of the Republic.
 
 A LOVE STORY 375 
 
 THE SERVANT GIRL QUESTION 
 
 "The Bells are all ringing for Sarah, Sarah, Sarah 
 The Bells are all ringing for Sarah, Sarah Ann". 
 
 Old Song 
 
 The bells keep ringing for Sarah Ann, but she don't come 
 at their call as she used to do, and everywhere the question of 
 WHY is agitated. Sarah Ann has learned that house labor is 
 not considered noble, that it is menial, so she despises it in time. 
 As a woman she finds she can do things which, while they do 
 not pay her so well, are not regarded as menial, but honorable; 
 and she has one day in the week she can call her own, Sunday; 
 whereas if she worked out in a kitchen it would be the hardest 
 day of the week. She escapes the hurry and monotony of the 
 kitchen, the running over and tearing up of her work by child- 
 ren, and others. She escapes a lot of "sass", and her life in 
 many ways as to days and evenings is free, if it don't pay so 
 well in cash. No, Sarah from the menial has come to be the 
 "boss". Women and men are learning to walk softly before 
 their house helpers, to pay them better wages and to treat them 
 with respect, and to give them comfortable quarters to occupy 
 as their own. Sarah begins to legislate for herself and if she 
 renders what she ought, she can demand about what she will. 
 The disappearance of the hired girl necessitates the placing of 
 the young in the traces to work, which they need tremendously, 
 so the loss of the hired girl is after all a blessing. We need to 
 run schools of instruction in the kitchen, chamber, cellar and 
 parlor, with "Ma" as boss and chief instructor. We need "Pa" 
 to be at the head of a similar school in the back yard, at the 
 wood pile, in the barn, the garden, etc. Many who used to be 
 willing to let their girls work out, fear to let them go. Among 
 so many men the girl from the country or the poor family, is 
 considered proper prey for the vicious; men tempt and lure in- 
 nocent girls all unwitting to their ruin, and many traffic in them 
 in the White Slave trade. People fear to let their girls work 
 out. 
 
 If I had a daughter I'd be afraid to let her work out unless 
 I knew exactly where she was going, the family she went with
 
 376 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 and the conditions around her. On every hand a danger lurks 
 for the girl who works out because her place is considered 
 menial. There is beginning however to grow a larger respect for 
 "Sarah Ann" in the house work, and "Sarah Ann" is learning 
 to respect herself, and no doubt will, till the house worker be- 
 comes an honored member of society and her work is no longer 
 considered menial. 
 
 On the farms the girl who "helps", is generally a neigh- 
 bors' daughter, and she is treated as one of the family, and is 
 respected as such.
 
 A LOVE STORY 377 
 
 THE GRAFTER 
 
 ' 'The Grafter is one who takes what is not his, but who de- 
 sires to be thought of as a virtuous citizen". 
 
 I smile sometimes when I see how excited the men of 
 America have become about grafts and Grafters. The mere 
 man is becoming so emotional I am getting convinced he is not 
 very safe to trust as a voter. Why, men get excited and fight, 
 and they curse, and swear, and get drunk and shoot themselves 
 on purpose, and accidentally, and they do all sorts of things 
 that would stamp any woman as most unsafe and improper. 
 
 The cry of the Grafter is now exciting the emotions of 
 men greatly. I speak of the men in the mass, of course, and 
 except the men of Wyoming, Colorado, Utah, Idaho, Washing- 
 ton and California, who seem to be more nearly normal in mind 
 and character. The Grafter is thick everywhere, I once ^ent 
 into a cornfield of mine and there under a tree laid a couple of 
 men who should have been at work. The horses stood snoozing 
 too. As I came up there was a scrambling and a great sputter 
 and work began. I went away and came back again after 
 awhile and the same thing was on. I said to myself, ' 'Here 
 are two grafters". That night when two cultivators were 
 brought up torn to pieces, on purpose I am convinced to punish 
 me, and that field never was finished, I knew they were Graft- 
 ers; but I did not say so, nor did I make any remarks. 
 
 One day I was in a hotel office and a certain County Super- 
 intendent of Schools was present, and some way the matter of 
 women's work came up. My Superintendent said his wife 
 earned no money. "What", said I, "doesn't she wash and 
 iron and scrub and sew and cook and bake and clean house and 
 mend and darn and also raise your children"?, and he had a 
 large family. He began to talk loudly and said, "She don't 
 earn any money, she don't earn any money". "Oh, yes she 
 does", said I, "I can prove it. A woman in this house a few 
 days ago, with the money she made here and saved as cook, 
 bought forty acres of land and paid for it, didn't she Mr. ? 
 Smith", this is to the Proprietor of the house. He was of the 
 same kind as the County Superintendent of Schools and he said, 
 "He, he, he, I don't know anything about it".
 
 378 * 'A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 I wanted to call him a - - 1 story teller, but I didn't. 
 I knew he had said he intended to let the law settle his estate, 
 so as to graft his wife, so I said to the Superintendent "Yes, 
 she did, and if your wife had had the same chance, as smart as she 
 is, she'd no doubt have been able to buy eighty acres of land" 
 and I said then to the gentleman what is true. "The single, 
 woman handles and spends her own wages. The married 
 woman's husband gets her's and says it is his, and uses it", 
 and when his wife wants some money he is like to say as an old 
 Quaker said to his wife who came meachin to him for a little 
 money as she wanted to go visiting; in a loud voice, "Mariar, 
 where is that twenty-five cents I gave thee two weeks ago". 
 There was a big Ha, Ha, from the folks in the office and I went 
 out and banged the door. 
 
 Men everywhere graft women in this way, so it's their 
 own mothers, their sisters, their daughters, their wives; every- 
 body, smarts under injustice and robbery, and women at last, 
 are beginning to. Grafting is grafting just the same, 
 whether it's man to man, corporation to men, or in Legislature 
 or Congress or anywhere, or to women. Women have hardly 
 felt it yet, for "duty" has been dinned unto them so long, and 
 self -sacrifice, that they have submitted willingly. To instance, 
 I had laid down this doctrine in a meeting, and I said to a young 
 woman I had taught in my Band of Hope, "Lizzie, whose 
 money was it you earned when you taught school"? "Mine", 
 she replied with great emphasis". "Well now" I said, "you 
 are married, have two children and work harder than you did 
 when you taught school. Whose is that money you earn now"? 
 She was rather flustered and a little hurt; she thought she was 
 sort of disloyal to her husband, but she had a new outlook on 
 an old subject and it conflicted with the ideas of duties and 
 self-sacrifice that ran in her brain for ages and ages. Nancy 
 Sikes was the limit; but another class of women is coming up 
 that demand justice, as the basis of righteousness. Yes, it is 
 something men ought to be ashamed of, to graft their women 
 folks. 
 
 Women pay large taxes everywhere in America, and any 
 man can vote taxes on her property and she can say nothing, 
 except in six states; she must submit, and a lot of poor wretched
 
 EDMUND J- JAMBS 
 
 A LOVE STORY 379 
 
 ignorant silly women known as "Antis" are trying to keep in- 
 justice alive and so defeat that righteousness which is of God 
 in this matter. 
 
 In Legislatures grafters go down; brick men, machine men, 
 cement men, pitch men, and the whole Grafter push, and money 
 is sent to the Legislature to buy votes enough to get a law, so 
 that three or four men in town can levy tax on everybody's 
 property and pave the streets and then sell their homes out if 
 they can't pay the tax assessed. This is a graft too, and no 
 woman can say a word; men can elect a City board if they will 
 and defeat the thing if they have sense enough, but I'm sorry 
 to say with winkin and blinkin and nod, they let the thing get 
 through too often, and women are sold out and some men too. 
 Women would not allow such wrongs, they have had to squeeze 
 a penny too long to get the most out of it while their men folks 
 grafted their wages. But women can't vote. 
 
 I knew of a woman, a widow, who was so unlucky as to 
 have a home on a corner. She was paved on both sides and it 
 cost $900. She had to sell for $1000; she had no money to pay 
 her assessment, her home was gone and she had $100 left. She 
 was a victim of the Grafters of her community, and this is only 
 one instance in many. I saw where a young woman in Chicago, 
 a teacher, had a little home where she and her mother lived. 
 They had been paved. The young woman fell into bad health; 
 an order went out to re-pave that street, as our grafting pav- 
 ing law has declared they can be paved again and again. This was 
 too much, and in the distraction of the knowledge that she and 
 her mother would lose their home, as she could not earn the 
 wherewithal to pay that iniquitous graft, nor a living, she cast 
 herself into Lake Michigan and perished. The worst lot of 
 Grafters are the men who go up on the stand and swear the 
 property to be paved is increased in value to the amount of the 
 paving. This is true in large towns where the land and proper- 
 ty upon it is valuable; but in the little towns it is not so, yet 
 reputable business man will take the stand and swear property 
 is worth in dollars and cents more than all the socalled improve- 
 ment cost. It is not proved, and it cannot be for it is not new 
 and other testimony is choked off , and women can only cry and 
 wring their hands as those grafters prey upon them.
 
 380 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 I often tell my farm friends the day is not far off, yes, is 
 here, when, if they do not look out, the Grafters will go down 
 to our Legislatures and get laws passed to pave the whole 
 state and the big Grafters will be on hand when the farms are 
 sold out, to buy them in. 
 
 Once in Illinois an attempt of this kind was made by a lot 
 of Grafters in the Legislature, and the farmers of Champaign 
 County, who were wide awake, gathered to the number of four 
 hundred and they declared the proposed law if passed would 
 saddle a debt of $40 on every acre of -land they possessed, and 
 they said to the Illinois Legislature "Gentlemen, you dare not 
 do it" and they did not. But the Grafter is abroad in the land, 
 and the machine man, and the cement man, brick man, pitch 
 man, and all the rest are waiting an unguarded moment to get 
 in their work. So farmers of the United States look out, and 
 you should as a preliminary enfranchise your women and cease 
 heaping Graft on them. You need them to vote as well as 
 you need the ballot. Many of our laws are bad, and the ballot 
 in the hands of women would help mend them. I do not think 
 well of my Countrymen who have enfranchised every sort of 
 foreigner, and part of the Indians, and yet deny their women 
 folks the ballot to protect themselves and who pardon convicts 
 out of penitentiary so they can vote. Are women not patriots? 
 I am in the fifth generation in America. My Ancestors were 
 vital in the American Revolution ; yet Old World people who 
 can't speak the vernacular vote taxes on me and sell me out if 
 I do not pay. The Negro, after generations in Africa as a 
 slave, does the same to me and mine and others. And the 
 Indian, fresh from the scalping knife and tomahawk as well, is 
 a vital force in politics, and I am nothing nor is any other 
 woman. We are all victim of Graft. 
 
 I have a friend who wrote a song which she said I was the 
 inspiration of, and I love to sing it because it is true. It is 
 called. 
 
 "AMERICAN CITIZENS WHO CANNOT VOTE". 
 
 I dreampt it was election day 
 In this our Yankee Nation, 
 And I a stranger on these shores
 
 A LOVE STORY 381 
 
 Stood by for observation. 
 , . I saw the people come and go 
 
 The Millionaire, the Hackman, 
 And beside the man who could not vote 
 Came the Author and the black man. 
 
 CHO. Yes, one and all came to the polls 
 To vote as honest yoemen, 
 But the Indian, the Chinaman, 
 The Idiot and the Woman. 
 
 I turned to someone standing near 
 
 To ask an explanation, 
 
 Why those four persons could not vote 
 
 In this enfranchised Nation. 
 
 The Indian is too savage yet, 
 
 The Coolie scarce more human, 
 
 The feeble minded, here he smiled, 
 
 But what about the woman. CHO. 
 
 She's in the pulpit at the bar, 
 She's in the School and College 
 Her voice and pen incite the world 
 To virtue, truth and knowledge, 
 She's the dear companion of your home, 
 And you must own my Brother 
 . She's what no man can e'er deny 
 She's every Voter's Mother. CHO. 
 
 Composer Mrs. Nettie Bacon Christian Published by 
 Thompson, Chicago, 111. 
 
 I can only trust men will cease their grafting, and the first 
 step they take is to cease grafting women and give them what 
 the good Lord intended and ordered in the beginning, One Half 
 of everything. Our farmer women who everywhere have the 
 full half of the farm work, want it, and our farmers ought to 
 be ardent advocates for the release of women from the Graft- 
 ers, and let her have justice and so end the Grafter who grafts 
 us all.
 
 382 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 "THE TRUE MOTHER IS SHE WHO NUMBERS HER CHILD- 
 REN BY THE THOUSAND." 
 
 There was no child in my house, and I was often asked why 
 I bothered myself so much about the children of others. I of- 
 ten said "Mothers are promised ' salvation in childbearing. 
 Verily verily what shall the old maids, and the childless women 
 do if that is to save them" ? (This is orthodox). Also, I said 
 "I think the Mothers have front seats in Heaven, I want a front 
 seat or one near the front". But the truth is, every child ought 
 to be as dear to every man and woman as though it were of his 
 or her own flesh and blood. We call a soul, a spirit and a body 
 into being. Everybody is in Nature bound to care for every 
 child and make it easy for it to be worthy of being born ; but 
 we curse our children with all sorts of debasing influences and I 
 for one, was opposed. I pledged over three thousand 
 children to total abstinence from alchoholics, and I taught many 
 others I did not pledge, and taught as far as I could the best of 
 everything I knew. I did my very level best to fortify them 
 against evil on every hand, and to strengthen them to become no- 
 ble men and women. Dear little children, of whom Jesus said, 
 "It were better one had a millstone tied about his neck and be 
 cast into the sea than that he offend one of these little ones". 
 "It is not the will of your Heavenly Father that one of these 
 little ones shall perish. Their Angels do always see the face 
 of my Father which is in Heaven". 
 
 "1 taught all the children I instructed Chas. Kingsley's lovely 
 lines
 
 . A LOVE STORY 383 
 
 "Be good dear child and let who will be clever, 
 DO noble things, not dream them all day long, 
 And so make life, death and that vast forever, 
 One grand, sweet song." 
 
 I gave them parties, and many festivals, and gifts. I 
 sent New Years' cards with beautiful thoughts of children 
 "Thou art like unto a flower etc. "to the parents. I sent Scrip- 
 ture excerpts also, about children and parents. 
 
 For many years Mr. Kepley and I ran a large Band of Hope 
 in Effingham. He furnished the house and the funds, and we 
 both taught with the help of others. We also gathered our 
 children in the whole County into a large Band of Hope that 
 held one big meeting each year and many prizes were given. 
 With the help of faithful men and women over two hundred 
 Demorest Medal Contests were held, to get them worked up. I 
 sent out thousands of circular letters through the Post offices 
 and drilled Contestants all that time free, as to how they should 
 speak, and others also did splendid work along that line. 
 Thousands of people heard good doctrine- from the mouths of 
 children. Thousands of pages of Juvenile Temperance Songs 
 and Literature, were sent free all over the County, to Catholic 
 and Lutheran, as well as Protestant children. Frances E. Wil- 
 lard medals and Catholic Total Abstinence medals were scat- 
 tered by the thousands to our children, and others. They sang 
 ' 'Tremble King Alchohol We Shall Grow up", ' 'Saloons, Saloons, 
 Saloons must go", and the song of poor little Katy O'Malley 
 stirred many a heart. Oh, what didn't we all do? Children 
 are a power for a reform and they teach and lead their fathers 
 and mothers; and yet, some scoffed; some scolded, some jibed; 
 but some stood by the children, and now they are grown, and 
 growing up, and we can see the results everywhere. 
 
 Out of this work with the children developed Preachers, 
 Lawyers, Doctors, Reformers, clean Business Men, clean 
 Voters; wherever our children are by the grace of God, the most 
 of them are Sowers of the good seed and doers of the work they 
 have not forgotten. We had one absolutely clean election the 
 year of 1910 in Effingham County out of our children's work 
 and from all the signs we shall have more. "An endless chain
 
 384 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 of countless rings the next unto the farthest brings". There 
 was an inspiration in this Great Reform and the children caught 
 it. Many of them now teach their children, and their children 
 shall teach their grandchildren, the Great Reform, the basis of 
 all Reforms. Our children are everywhere in positions of 
 power and trust. So we numbered our children by the thou- 
 sandmy husband and I and others did as much, and it taught 
 us all to know that the ' 'True Father and Mother should Number 
 their Children by the Thousand."
 
 A LOVE STORY 385 
 
 DER LEEDLE DEDOUGHDALLER. 
 
 WRITTEN FOR A NINE YEAR OLD BOY IN GERMAN COSTUME, AND 
 RECITED AT A COUNTY MEETING 
 
 Ich bin ein leedle Deitcher, 
 
 But ich dond trink etwas beer; 
 Ich yust bin ein dedoughdaller, 
 
 Like von off you poys here. 
 Ich loef to sing "Saloons Must Go!" 
 
 Oond vill help to MAKE dem went; 
 Ich would nod gif doo ein saloon 
 
 Von single liddle cent. 
 Ich HATE saloons, dem NASTY dings; 
 
 Dey makes poor mudders gry 
 Oond dakes die schilders brod avay, 
 
 Oond many freeze oond die. 
 Some day ven ve vas dwendy-von, 
 
 Some fine elecshun day 
 US POYS vill all boot in ein fote 
 
 To drife saloons away; 
 Oond den how happy vill Ich bin 
 
 Ich yoost vill shump and shoudt, 
 Oond vont we haf von goot dime, poys, 
 
 Mit no saloons apout?
 
 386 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 BLESSINGS AND CURSINGS. 
 
 A woman had a little son who was exceedingly selfish and 
 she wished to cure him. There was a neighbor lad who was 
 very poor and had little to amuse himself with; so the mother 
 proposed to her son to give him a sled he owned, since he had a 
 new one. The stingy little soul did not want to, and the 
 mother tried to make him see a reason why he should. She 
 finally played upon his selfishness by suggesting he would feel 
 good if he gave the other child such a pleasure. Finally he 
 gave the sled, but he at once began to whine to "feel good." 
 That was a poser for the fond mother; but there came a snow 
 and the owner of the old sled came out to play with it. The 
 donor was kept in by some childish indisposition, and he looked 
 out the window and saw his old sled with the new owner who 
 waved a hand at him. He stood at the window and watched as 
 the little lad ran and slid and had a good time generally. The 
 boy who gave the sled was soon laughing at the droll antics 
 and the happiness the other boy had with his gift, and he turned 
 to his mother and said, "Ma, I feel better now". The most of 
 us are like the little lad, we want our blessings at once from 
 the things we do. I have heard people say, I have seen others 
 backslide, as it is called, because they claim they had no returns 
 from the good things they did. 
 
 Foolish people; blessings come at once, as do curses, as we 
 call them. The men and women who, like Sir Galahad, do not 
 give themselves with their gift get nothing; the blessing or 
 curse we earn does not wait, it begins at once, for life forms in 
 us according to our deeds, and the operations of the deed begin 
 at once. 
 
 Jesus knew that Judas was a devil, and a devil from the 
 beginning, as he said, for his deeds formed him, the real 
 man and woman is formed according to their deeds, and what one 
 is, shines in the countenance, images in the figure, and modu- 
 lates the voice, for his heart is true and out of the heart are 
 the issues of life, and whether we meet with neglect or scorn 
 or ingratitude in those we try to help, matters not, the bles- 
 sing of the good deed has begun and, the Holy Grail is at our 
 lips.
 
 A LOVE STORY 387 
 
 So of the evil one does; it begins to form the man or woman 
 at once, and, though hidden like the Ostrich, with its head in 
 the sand, the body of the evil deed is patent to all. We never 
 wait a moment to receive our blessings or curses, they begin at 
 once and work to a final culmination. ' 'Who gives himself with 
 his gift feeds three himself, the dear Lord Christ and Me", 
 and so he brings his own blessings, and his own curses.
 
 388 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 MEXICAN WAR TROPHIES. 
 
 Seventy thousand volunteers in '46 enlisted for the Mexican 
 War which ran 1846-1847-and 1848, They fought seventy bat- 
 tles and won them all. From Mexico they captured California, 
 Colorado, Nevada, Arizona, Utah, New Mexico and Wyoming. 
 The United States ended that War and paid cash for much of 
 the captured territory, and it became the property of the United 
 States of America. If it had not been for the Mexican War 
 what would the United States have been to-day? A small Gov- 
 ernmentpenned in on the South and West by Mexicans, and 
 with European powers continually attempting to grab Mexican 
 Territory. Now the United States thanks to the Mexican War 
 sweeps from ocean to ocean, has allied unto herself the Sand- 
 wich Islands, and the Phillipines. From a Nation of small 
 moment she has become the model and the pattern for all the 
 Nations of the earth and to their benefit. Who shall say it is a mere 
 chance or a mere happen-so? It is impossible to compute the 
 riches the Mexican War added to the United States. We acquired 
 mines of gold and silver and iron and lead and jewels and pre- 
 cious minerals of all kinds, and we became possessed of land, 
 yes, an Empire. Never a Nation received such treasures before 
 nor since, and by an army whose soldiers were mainly volun- 
 teers, and who were humane dwellers in our homes before they 
 went to war. Millions of acres of land we gained; billions of 
 dollars in treasure we acquired; and now crossed by the rail- 
 roads everywhere, and filled with fertile farms and great cities 
 and towns, with Colleges, Churches, Manufactures, every- 
 thing, that belongs to civilization, we expand. 
 
 It is not for naught the people of this Country moved out 
 and Westward, following the steps of those who fought in the 
 Mexican War. They went as the birds, as all things in Nature, 
 obeying an impulse they could not resist. We became part of 
 a world movement. Just as the stars are conjoined, and in 
 systems move in harmony together through the stellar spaces 
 in obedience to a law, so we move with all the peoples of the 
 earth obedient to our destiny, as surely as the sun and moon 
 and stars and the stellar and solar systems move.
 
 A LOVE STORY 389 
 
 Ten thousand of our Mexican War Soldiers left their bones 
 to bleach on Mexican soil; yet the United States refused to 
 pension those faithful patriots who remained, and the survivors 
 of those who died, until the Civil War was long over. Some 
 of them received pensions as soldiers of the Civil War, where 
 they also fought, before they were recognized as worthy of 
 Mexican War Pensions; and no Mexican War Soldiers if they 
 had been in the Civil War received any other pension in recog- 
 nition of their services as Mexican War Soldiers. Some became 
 poor and old and suffered from poverty, and never received 
 Pensions, for they died. Others, decrepit and old, and without 
 means had to spend their last days in poorhouses. It is pathe- 
 tic to read the resolutions they adopted at their annual meet- 
 ings, and that were sent to a thankless country that refused 
 them recognition and honor. They have almost all passed off 
 the stage of action now those old soldiers who did so much to 
 make their country great. Effingham County, Illinois, sent a 
 goodly number of men to this War and two of these are with us 
 yet, Capt. Thomas Dobbs in his eighty-fourth year, who served 
 in the Mexican War and the Civil War, and Mr. James Tucker 
 who was in the Mexican War only. Many able and noted men 
 of Illinois and of the United States served in this War as we 
 all know, and became famous as Soldiers of the Civil War 
 after that. When the Mexican War Veterans met in Effing- 
 ham in 1884 they had a rousing welcome and a good time with 
 us because so many of ours had been in that War. The very 
 best we had was theirs while they staid with us. For some 
 services I rendered making an address and writing a song to 
 to be sung I was repaid with an honorary membership in the 
 Association, which I greatly prize. In my pilgrimages to and 
 fro across the land I see the splendid gifts our American Sol- 
 diers of the Mexican War gave us. They never [lost a battle 
 was their proud boast, and America received the honor; they 
 enriched all of us; they set things in order in Mexico, and child- 
 ren and women came to them for protection ; they were safe in 
 our camps. It makes me sad they had to wait so long for Pen- 
 sions from an ungrateful Country, and that so many suffered 
 because of it. When it now is proposed to give the few who 
 remain an added pension it seems a tardy recompense, and is
 
 390 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 toD late for the most of them. The Old Settler's Association in 
 Effingham County always introduces the Mexican War Veterans 
 at its meetings, and they always receive a gift of value. 
 
 No real history of the Mexican War has been written. I 
 wish some one would undertake the task. The story would 
 read like a Romance to us now. 
 
 At Shelby ville in 1886 the following resolutions were passed 
 by the Mexican Veterans: 
 
 ' 'Resolved that we shall no more ask for recognition from 
 the Government we have enriched, and that we have the conso- 
 lation of knowing that the gold and silver we wrested from Mex- 
 ico has enabled the people to build Poor Houses and furnish graves 
 to the humblest of us". 
 
 ''Resolved that so long as we shall be able to stagger on the 
 road that we shall continue to meet, talk over old times, and the 
 fires of loyalty shall burn in our hearts as brightly as they did 
 forty years ago". 
 
 And now there remains but so few; they fought, they suf- 
 fered, they grieved, they died. When the old sectional hates 
 have died out that kept our old Mexican Patriots out of their 
 honors and pensions, when the United States realizes all that 
 war meant to the future of America, we shall remember them 
 in song and story and in monuments. Suppose Mexico had 
 been annexed to the United States, which it could have been ; 
 what blessings would have come to Mexico, as the old soldier 
 wrote; but with a Country distracted and torn over Slavery, 
 and our soldiers in the field suffering because of it, Mexico as 
 well as the United States lost out. No such foolish fusses re- 
 tarded the World movement at the close of the Spanish- Ameri- 
 can War. We laid our hands on Cuba and Porta Rica and on 
 the Phillipines to bless them, not to blemish them, and back of 
 this lies other things we do not yet know; for the future seems 
 big with matters of moment to the World, through that power 
 which runs ever from the West, from Euphrates and Tigris and 
 Nile and Palestine and Europe and Great Britain and America 
 and the Mexican War and the Spanish-American War. We 
 were impelled Westward by a force as irresistable as the force 
 that moves the stars, to our Destiny. 
 
 How much the Mexican War affected our farm life no one
 
 A LOVE STORY 391 
 
 had yet told us, but the farm lands of the United States every- 
 where have been increased in value by the sacrifices of the 
 seventy thousand men who "never lost a battle"; who brought 
 an ill-regulated people to order, and who added treasures be- 
 yond computation to our Nation's wealth, for good, and did this 
 Country honor, and gave it power. 
 
 Edward S. Holbrook of Chicago, a Lieutenant in the 1st 
 Ills. Reg't of Mexican War Volunteers, at a meeting held at 
 Chicago Sept. llth and 12th, 1889, read a poem he called The 
 Mexican War from which the verse that follows is taken, and 
 which suggests much, after all these years. 
 
 "Ill-starred, distracted Mexico all at her fate must weep; 
 Should we have bound her to our car, and drawn her up 
 
 the steep? 
 Then freedom learning labor law, had given her peace and 
 
 rest, 
 And she had mounted to her place and sat among the best". 
 
 Had Sectional hates not been so hot there is little doubt 
 Mexico to-day would be United States Territory, which any one 
 can see would have been better for Mexico, and the United 
 States as well, as things are; we see it now. Chas. C. Holden 
 of Chicago, with Edward Holbrook of the same place, were 
 the live wires of the Illinois Association of Veterans of the 
 Mexican War and in the National Association as well; both 
 were able men, both lawyers and enthusiasts who, so long as 
 they lived, hammered at the doors of Congress for justice to 
 the Mexican War Volunteers and for Pensions, and after long 
 disappointing years of labor, both lived to see pensions granted 
 if they were niggardly in the extreme, from our Country which 
 has not yet given just tribute to those faithful warriors of 1846- 
 47 and 48, who never lost a battle and who established the name 
 of the United States as a humane and good and great people, 
 who went to War, to do good. The National Association of 
 Mexican War Veterans as that of Illinois and the other States 
 has ceased almost. Their lives have ended; their race is run, 
 but their Fame will grow brighter with the years.
 
 392 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 HAIL, HAIL YE! 
 
 WRITTEN FOR MY CHILDREN TO SING- ON DECORATION" DAY. AIR AMERICA. 
 
 Hail, hail ye who to-day, 
 
 We honor as we may, 
 With song and word; 
 
 Bright shall thy memory be, 
 Far over land and sea, 
 
 Glorious the destiny, 
 Thy deeds record. 
 
 Freedom showers down on us, 
 Won by hands now in dust, 
 
 Her richest joys; 
 Rev'rent thy praise we sing, 
 
 Thankful thy grand deeds bring 
 To make the heavens ring 
 
 Without alloy. 
 
 Oh, ye who silent lie, 
 
 Under the soft spring sky, 
 Tented for aye, 
 
 Flowers, bright flowers, we bring 
 As our poor offering, 
 
 All Nature's blossoming 
 This best May day.
 
 A LOVE STORY 393 
 
 Gladly the children come, 
 
 Willing their light feet run, 
 They strew bright flowers; 
 
 Quickly their young hearts beat 
 Softly their lips repeat 
 
 Each hero's fame complete 
 Through May's bright hours. 
 
 Oh Thou dear Lord of all, 
 
 Hear to our earnest call, 
 We bless Thy name, 
 
 Help each and all to be 
 Faithful to Home and Thee 
 
 So that far times may see 
 Our heroes fame.
 
 394 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 I AM ELECTED A SCHOOL DIRECTOR. 
 
 In Effingham I served three years as School Director being 
 elected April, 1880. Oh, that was a task; the President of the 
 Board despised women in Public, and, I think did not like 
 me, and he made my life a misery. I sweat under his rule. I 
 did my best in every way as Secretary of the Board, but at times 
 he would let loose and tear like a mad man at everything and 
 everybody. 
 
 A friend said to me "I'd resign. I'd not take such treat- 
 ment". But I said "Well, I need to learn, and surely will 
 never have such a chance as I am having under this rude man ; 
 I'll stay and take it as a schooling". "Well" he said "if that's 
 the way you look at it go ahead", and I did, and I was fitted 
 for many a hard task that fell upon me later on, by this severe 
 treatment I endured. 
 
 I was the first woman School Director in Effingham, and 
 Effingham County. I was followed by many others. It was a 
 great agitation for better things for women. I was a candidate 
 many times for States Attorney, County Superintendent of 
 Schools in fact, I was a stock candidate; and if any candidate 
 was lacking, I'd go on the ticket and make the best fight pos- 
 sible, and people would raise all sorts of questions, and we 
 would argue them just as if there were a possibility of my 
 election, when there wasn't a ghost of a show but it was good 
 agitation. Once I beat the Greenback candidate for States 
 Attorney, getting many more votes than he. He was dreadfully 
 plagued over it for everybody took a nip at him; but all was 
 fish that came to my net, I was a School Director for three 
 years, and I did good service I think in this way, and as much 
 as I could otherwise. I did not care for a reelection I had 
 learned my lesson.
 
 A LOVE STORY 395 
 
 THERE IS A LAW, 
 
 "Never yet were the feelings and instincts of our Nature 
 violated with impunity; Never yet was the voice of conscience 
 silenced without retribution". Mrs. Jamison. 
 
 One summer I was trying to bring an uplift to the souls of 
 men and women in my County, and it was a hard task. I 
 began by asking. ' 'How many of you look into the Heavens at 
 night, and at the stars"? I was amazed to find, as I made my 
 rounds from Church to school house and open places, how few 
 used that mighty uplift of the soul and body. I thought of an 
 old German who said of men "Vir sind Ameisen". 
 
 I found so few who used that great open University, free to 
 all, to culture the best within them. One who looks in the sky 
 at night, will be forced to say, sooner or later, "When I consid- 
 er Thy heavens the works of thy fingers, what is man that 
 Thou art mindful of him; and the son of man that Thou visitest 
 him"? 
 
 There will grow in his soul an uplift that teaches him that 
 the little standard that makes a man his own pattern of the 
 best, is a pitiful thing; and that there is a pattern that all men 
 need that shall bring them unto a knowledge of the creed Jesus 
 taught and shall lift them up as He was lifted up. I see 
 parents sacrificing to have their children learn the lessons of 
 schools, and music, and to get them good clothes, and a 
 chance to' live at ease; and I see so often parents brought low 
 by the disapointments of their children's lives. The father 
 and mother who take the little child out under the stars and 
 teaches it, and of the One who created them and all things, 
 will find a greatness growing in the child's nature that surpas- 
 ses the teachings of the schools, and that is a beauty like the 
 beauty of the stars. Who can speak of those wonderful lights 
 that sparkle in the Firmament at night and not feel moved? 
 On nights when the moon is up, from the time she first shows 
 her delicate cresent until the whole world is radiant with her 
 splendor, what opportunities for culture of the highest. I had 
 rather take a little child and hold it on my knees or put my arms 
 around it, and teach it of the stars and the other heavenly
 
 396 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 bodies, than of any creed, or art or idea. If I am filled with 
 the love of God, and with the marvels of creation, the child will 
 grow to the heavenly in mind and spirit and body, and will get 
 a great education that is worth while. "The heavens declare 
 the glory of God, day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto 
 night giveth knowledge". I love to lose a young person among 
 the stars and leave him to find his way back to God and him- 
 self. 
 
 Two boys once came to a Fair in our County and called at 
 the W. C % T. U. headquarters where I was, and asked for sup- 
 per, and work to pay for it. We had them bring us a couple of 
 cans of water and the three of us who were in charge gave them 
 a good supper. I began to quiz them and said ' 'What are you 
 doing here?" "Riding race horses". One was from Kankakee, 
 where he said his father, an English stone Mason, worked at 
 the Insane Asylum. The other, more shy, told us but one 
 thing, that he was from Chicago. I said to the boy who rode 
 race horses "Aren't you afraid you will get your neck broken 
 when you turn the corner by that fence along the track"? 
 "Well", he said, "what matters; there's nothing hereafter". 
 Then I said, "Do you ever look in the sky at night?" That 
 was such an easy thing to do I saw they wanted us to think 
 they did. "Do you know how many stars there are"? The 
 boy from Chicago had a light come in his face and he said, 
 "About eighty millions". I said, "You are a warm, as we say 
 in hunting the slipper. The men who know best say there are 
 about one hundred million stars to be seen by the naked eye and 
 the best telescopes, but beyond that are millions and millions that 
 they tell us man never saw and never can see. Did you ever 
 see a Comet?" "Well, no"; "Well, a Comet is a bright object 
 in the sky with a head like a star and a tail millions of miles 
 long. Sometimes a man looking about the heavens finds one 
 and says "I see a Comet; I have found one; I will name it for 
 myself". And everybody looks and wonders. And then he 
 says this Comet will go away, and it will not return for two 
 hundred years; men come and go who look into the sky and 
 they say that comet will come back; and two hundred years 
 roll by and one day the cry goes round the earth "that Comet 
 has come back". Now Sons, where was that comet all those
 
 A LOVE STORY 397 
 
 years"? The boys did not reply and I said, "Our earth is a 
 star among other stars, and it is twenty-five thousand miles 
 around, and it turns around every twenty-four hours, and that 
 is more than a thousand miles an hour; that is faster than you 
 go round the track on your race horses. And then our earth 
 travels round the sun every twelve months; that is a much 
 larger track than it travels each day; it goes two ways at once; 
 once it travels on its axis, then it keeps turning around the sun 
 twelve months in Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter. Then 
 our earth and sun and moon and stars are all moving together 
 in another track so large that no one can tell the size of it yet 
 for it has not rounded the arc of a circle, which is a curved 
 line, and until it does, no one can measure the size of the circle 
 it travels in. Everything is in motion in the heavens and there 
 are no collisions, nor accidents. Can you explain all this? Why 
 do not the stars fall; they are heavy?" The poor little laddies 
 were silent. "Well boys" I said, "we say the heavenly bodies 
 are held in their places and kept in order by the Will of God. 
 Do not be too sure there is nothing hereafter." 
 
 Two other boys to whom I told this story of the stars, were 
 disputing about the Great Dipper. 
 
 One had a good education ; the other but little, but he knew 
 more about the stars for he said the dipper changed its position, 
 and the other boy said it did not. I said, ' 'How did you find 
 that out", calling him by name. "Oh", he said, "When I go 
 coon hunting I sometimes get lost and I find my way home by 
 the Dipper". So there is one advantage in Coon hunting, it 
 teaches men to look at the stars. I was talking to a man once 
 who was a scoffer, and I told him the story of the stars and of 
 the two boys, and he laughed and said he had learned when 
 fox hunting at night to tell the time with great exactness by 
 the stars, and I could see, more of such teachin'g would have 
 led him upward and Godward. 
 
 The ancients studied the heavens and became wise, and 
 Astrology in time became Astronomy. They cast the horo- 
 scope of every new born child by the stars. Each man and 
 woman had his or her star. The wise men of the East followed 
 a star; the Angels sang a heavenly chorus when a certain star 
 appeared, we are told. We need the stars to uplift us and lead
 
 398 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 us to a greater nearness to the Most High. I often wish men 
 like Edison would study the stars, that they might assert and 
 cease to deny God, or at least learn to affirm Him to us to our 
 uplift. In my Bible I have a little item credited to Edison 
 which says; "From Chemistry I can almost prove the exist- 
 ence of God". I say, when men study the works of God not so 
 much for commercial results as to know Him, then shall we be- 
 gin to know the deep things of God and demonstrate them; if 
 they would only study the stars and tell us what they learned. 
 
 David loved God and studied the heavens. He is not ex- 
 celled or equalled in knowledge or wisdom in this age of great 
 opportunity by any man or woman. I welcome any new 
 thought, and in this age, when the old things are passing, I am 
 glad the teachings of Mary Baker Eddy, of Flamarion, of 
 Weltmer, of Trine, of Dubois, of Hudson, of Towne, of Schofield 
 and others, have forced Churches and Colleges of the highest, 
 and Medics, to study God in Psyshic laws, for it presages a day 
 when men of Science shall study God and affirm Him, and cease 
 to deny Him, and shall lead us to know more of Him. Oh, how 
 much we long for this help. I am glad the Catholic Church 
 holds fast to miracles and Angels. 
 
 If these are hypotheses, they have made life more desirable 
 and cheerful, and helped keep God alive in us. 
 
 I do not belong, so to speak, to any of these schools of 
 teaching, but I bid them God speed and I am glad we have them 
 on the earth in my day. There is nothing in any of them that 
 to me seems incompatable with Christianity. They seem to me 
 to be expansions of the same, and the fact that they are creed- 
 less and not dogmatic, is an evidence they posess that Freedom 
 which Christ had, and that is an evolution of the life in God that 
 worked in Him, and that he said we ought to have in us. Christ 
 was the greatest of the Psychics. Not only the Christ was the 
 "I am that I am"; each of us is "I am that lam"; and the 
 spirit in us is greater than the body, and we need to realize it 
 daily, and that There is a Law in us; that makes us realize our 
 subjection to that highest good and true and sweet and noble 
 and intellectual, the highest we can conceive, that is all powerful 
 and that we call God. Let me keep myself right with God in 
 the highest, and all the best things in me can grow and I can
 
 A LOVE STORY 399 
 
 grow, and I can look my fellow man in the face without afflic- 
 tion and without fear. There are depths and heights in all of 
 us that we do not yield to those about us; they are things we 
 have a right to keep between ourselves and God, and so obey 
 the law that in the highest, for There is a Law. 
 
 Now that so many deny God, and the Devil is treated with 
 the greatest disrespect, not to say denied an existence, and 
 since Hell is quite out of fashion, and Heaven even is dis- 
 puted, we can no longer lash sinners into repentance or Salva- 
 tion. The Devil and Hell were once the great powers to drive 
 men to and into the Church; what shall it ba now since God, 
 the Devil, Heaven and Hell are all declared nil? 
 
 I have asked many young preachers what incentives they 
 used to "win souls" since these three potent powers were so 
 damaged. I have had no one answer me that question. The 
 Church still airs these old dogmas of hell and the devil on oc- 
 casions, but the most of the "draw" now a days is the per- 
 sonal influence of the preacher and the social life of the Church. 
 It is true the Church is a great force. I love her in spite of 
 her faults and weaknesses, but she ought to take higher ground, 
 and how we long for her to so so. I can worship in any Church, 
 except the Mormon's who are lawbreakers and liars at heart; 
 and the people who preach annihilation to -everybody who re- 
 fuses their doctrines, I cannot tolerate. 
 
 I asked a young preacher once what he would do to get 
 men into his Church, and he said "I have no trouble". I found 
 later that 'he played the clown to his audiences. Well, what 
 shall be done since all the old time forces have been disposed 
 of that draw men God ward and to the Churches? I have often 
 meditated on this question, when I sat hearing preachers thrash- 
 ing a lot of old theological straw that had been pounded over 
 and over again till there was no life in it. It seems to me 
 people are hungry for the bread of life, and get a stone. It 
 seems to me the preachers do not know enough to feed them. 
 The old dogmas and the old creeds are paralyzing in their 
 effects on the many, and they get away from the needs of men 
 by their false teaching and by their lack of truth. Churches 
 should teach the law written in man, not dogmas. People 
 could not reject this truth; it would grow more in their lives and
 
 400 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 compel them to the truth. The youngsters look around and 
 see many of the "old pillars" comfortably sleeping in Church 
 and so conclude they must be mistaken as to the horrors of 
 Hell and the Devil, and besides, they know much of the lives 
 of these same "pillars". 
 
 But there is a law that no one can escape. That Law runs 
 down the ages; and it is time men knew it. The Church must 
 teach it or die. The Bible is full of it. "Be not deceived, God 
 is not mocked". We have been so occupied with creed poison- 
 ing; God is three persons in one; that sprinkling was sufficient; 
 that it was not sufficient; that one was lost if he were not im- 
 mersed; that woman is the source of all evil; that confession 
 only could save us; that God was as mean as a mean man; that 
 we were foreordained to be saved or damned; that there were 
 infants in hell a span long etc. ad lib. We know the stars run 
 in their order; we know the law of gravitation in a sense. We 
 know we control that marvelous something called electricity; 
 we know the principle of the plane, the crank, the screw, and 
 all their combinations and complications; we have subjugated 
 steam; we have forced many of the secrets of Nature from her; 
 we begin to understand the psychic life somewhat and use it to 
 master the body; we know that the Universe is everywhere 
 governed, by law; yet, we seem to think man is free from the 
 law, or can make his own law. But man is as subject to law as 
 the stars, the sun, the moon, the comet, the chrystal, everything 
 that is. Of Heredity we know enough to prove that the sins 
 of the parents, are visited on the children; that the freedom 
 and greatness of a Nature depends on the freedom of the 
 Individual; chattle slavery of man to man has vanished, though 
 Commercial and Social and religious slavery remain to the det- 
 rement of the people. 
 
 Since Adam the man has demanded liberty to do as he 
 pleases, and with woman; and the harlot sits unchecked in al- 
 most every community; she is lauded as the "Priestess of hu- 
 manity", when she is its curse, the scourge of the race; the 
 horrible plague, the law of God places upon her, ravages the 
 earth, yet men still demand the harlot. England hired pro- 
 curesses for their Army in India and ruined thousands of 
 Native girls, the Chackla was in every Cantonment. When the
 
 A LOVE STORY 401 
 
 United States first went into the Phillipines the Army Officials 
 licensed prostitution, till the W. C. T. U. broke it up as in India. 
 Men demand the licensing of the harlots, and all Europe follows 
 that system and it is initially practiced in all our large cities the 
 world over; men and women are born as a consequence, abso- 
 lutely deficent in sex morality, as Kraft Ebbing's terrible book 
 shows; they know nothing morally. The White Slave Trade is 
 wrapped around the earth; by the modern stage, the young and 
 old alike are corrupted; divorces fill the Courts; young harlots 
 steal the rich husbands of virtuous wives; race suicide, ought 
 much of it to be called Race Impossibility, and occupies many hys- 
 terical men. The Church is wailing and wringing her hands; 
 but why don't Church and Reformers teach that There is a 
 Law, certain and sure, not to be evaded, escaped or denied? 
 We* howl at consequences; we do not teach causes. I believe 
 if the little child were taught of the stars and that his own life 
 was subject to a law as certain as the heavenly bodies are, it 
 would not be easy for him to break the law of God written in his 
 body. "Life would on and upward go". 
 
 Let us learn There is a Law in Us, as certain as the law 
 that governs the celestial spheres and spaces. Let us learn 
 that obedience to that law is Natural. Let the Churches, the 
 schools, the fathers and mothers teach it, and it will not matter 
 what anyone thinks of God, the Devil, or Heaven or Hell. 
 When each one knows he has a Law within him that he cannot 
 escape, that is God and Heaven, or the Devil and Hell. As the 
 Universe is so rich, so full of usable material and the things to 
 be discovered beckon us on, and we know there will be no exhaus- 
 tion of the theme, men will flock to hear of the Law they can- 
 not escape, if it is taught. They will learn that underneath it 
 all is Righteousness, and they will learn to hunger and thirst 
 after Righteousness as David did, and they shall be filled, for 
 that too, is part of the law of God within ourselves. There is 
 a Law, terrible and sure, and certain in its consequences 
 sooner or later. 
 There is a Law.
 
 402 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 RELIGIONIST-MATERIALIST. 
 
 AFTER READING AUGUST BABEL'S BOOK "WOMAN PAST, PRESENT 
 AND FUTURE." 
 
 The Religionist and the Materialist, together reach a point 
 where both must confess they know nothing, absolutely. The 
 Religionists takes hold by faith, on God, and develops spirit- 
 ually, and out of this faith grows the loveliest and best the 
 human race knows and enjoys. The Materialist endures 
 dumbly, maybe cheerfully, his Fate, but he has not that which 
 blossoms into beauty and joy for the race. He has not learned 
 of the law of God within himself.
 
 A LOVE STORY 403 
 
 KRISHNA MULVANEY PHILOSOPHER, ET AL. 
 
 When Terrance Mulvaney was incarnated as the God 
 Krishna in that great God's special shrine in India, he found 
 the place filled with Queens and Maharanees, begging that God 
 for children, and bringing offerings of gold and jewels to pay 
 their way to his favor that they might bring forth more child- 
 ren. Terrance tells of their lying prone on the floor and beg- 
 ging and pleading for children. Mulvaney seems to have prom- 
 ised them all something in that line, and when he got through 
 he forced the priest who officiated to give him part of the spoils 
 he took from these pleading women for he told him that for 
 two hundred years to come that temple and he would reap the 
 benefit of the Great Krishna's visit. 
 
 Oriental women torment their priests and their Gods for 
 children. "Old Red Hat" was plagued by them and he was 
 ashamed apparently, to be about such small business. The 
 common women of the Orient breed like rabbits; the only thing 
 they live for is the pleasure of their Lords, and the more child- 
 ren they have the better their Lords like them. These wretched 
 women, robbed of every right, immured in Zenanas, find their 
 only chance among their afflictions, in child-bearing; to be sure 
 there is always the chance to the woman that her son may suc- 
 ceed his father and she get honor and ease and attention and 
 power as the ruler's Mother. 
 
 So these women plague their Gods for children; and the 
 old women pray that their son's wives may have children, and 
 when the famines come and the cholera, and the many plagues, 
 of that land, these half naked, miserable wretches, many of 
 whom never had a full meal in their lives, and who tighten the 
 belt to assuage the hunger and pain that racks the stomach for 
 lack of food, die When I hear a lot of men screeching and 
 howling on "race suicide", I think of these poor wretches of 
 the Orient and say to them, the howlers, "Go to. What do you 
 mean? That is a question the women are getting ready to set- 
 tle. ' ' Some men need a Kirshna Mulvaney Philosopher it seems 
 to me to instruct them, where they are "at", Mr. Dooley ought 
 to take them in hand.
 
 404 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 LOVE. 
 
 "Now Love is the fulfilling of the law", and "God is Love". 
 1 'Love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul 
 and with all thy strength and with all thy mind, and love thy 
 neighbor as thyself: Upon these two commandments hang all 
 the law and the prophets", said Jesus, who was the greatest and 
 sweetest lover the world ever knew. ' ' Without love, I am noth- 
 ing, ' ' said Paul. 
 
 Every life ought to be a 
 love story. Love, is the . cen- 
 tripetal force of the Universe 
 that draws all things together 
 for Good. It is the creative 
 force of Nature and of God. 
 Love is a divine sun that illu- 
 minates, warms, elevates and 
 glorifies man. Life is rich and 
 full and complete and satisfy- 
 ing and inexhaustable, with 
 Love. 
 
 The men on the Titanic 
 who chose to taste certain 
 death for the sake of helpless 
 women and children gave the 
 
 world a demonstration of courage and sacrifice that was Christ- 
 like, they died for others. In tears and grief, and organ peal 
 the world responded at the sight and was lifted up to a nobler 
 manhood and womanhood. These fulfilled the Divine Law of 
 God. "Greater love than this hath no man, that he give his 
 life for another. 
 
 The women who chose to perish with their husbands 
 demonstrated the power of true'love that abides between hus- 
 band and wife, and that lifts above the fear of death, and the 
 world was lifted to higher places in True Love by their sacri- 
 fices. 
 
 The Musicians whose lips were firm to their instruments, 
 and who consoled the dying multitude with the thought of hope 
 and life to come, with the sweet strains of "Nearer My God to
 
 A LOVE STORY 
 
 405 
 
 Thee", had the courage of great soldiers and a tender sympa- 
 thy for their fellowmen that was divine. 
 
 The world wept and wondered, and was uplifted at such 
 heroism and love, and it saw as never before perhaps, the 
 Divine in men of every kind. Yes, the world rose and wonder- 
 ed and wept and gave homage, for beneath it all was courage, 
 and faith and love, that was Godlike. Man was seen at his full 
 stature as a Son of God. 
 
 ' 'He prayeth best who loveth best- 
 All things both great and small" said a wise one. 
 
 I send my love story along the wireless lines that reach 
 from soul to soul and heart to heart the whole world round, 
 knowing that much will be excused me because I love. 
 
 TEACH ME. 
 
 Oh, bird, dear little bird, teach me to sing, 
 
 E'en though my heart is sad; 
 
 Sweet Love, o'erflow my soul and make me glad, 
 
 Until not sorrowful, but joy bells ring, 
 
 Through every day, and all the long, long night. 
 
 Though food be scant and friends seem few, 
 
 Oh, Love, possess me through and through, 
 
 That I like thee may sing a happy song, 
 
 And so help all who come my way of life along.
 
 406 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Dedication 4 
 
 A Love Song 5 
 
 Effingham 7 
 
 I Take A New Part In the Play of Life 10 
 
 The Beauty and Charm of My Farm 13 
 
 My Father and Mother 15 
 
 "Moege IhrDie Erde Leicht Sein" 17 
 
 My Partner 18 
 
 Thy Hand 22 
 
 An Epic of the Corn Fields 23 
 
 A Corn Song 27 
 
 Peacocks 29 
 
 How Old Are You 33 
 
 The Golden Wedding 38 
 
 Beginnings 40 
 
 The Consolation of the Grass 41 
 
 The Sparrow 43 
 
 The Way of Sorrows 44 
 
 Un forgotten 46 
 
 Hymns of All Nations 47 
 
 Repentance, Confession, Restitution, Absolution 54 
 
 Around the World Four Times 55 
 
 Music 64 
 
 A School Election 67 
 
 The Cardinal, or Red Bird 71 
 
 The Red Bird 72 
 
 A Morning Elevation 73 
 
 Messages From God 73 
 
 The Temple 74 
 
 Im Frueling 77 
 
 Pruning the Grape Vines 79 
 
 The Cat Bird 81 
 
 The Fertile Earth 82 
 How I Broke Up the Solid Democratic Township of the 
 
 United States of America - 83
 
 A LOVE STORY 407 
 
 With Hoe and Tile Spade and Corn Knife 86 
 
 The Weather Man, Mr. Groundhog 88 
 
 The Silo 90 
 
 The Honey Bees 91 
 
 Plant A Tree 95 
 
 The Walnut Tree 97 
 
 The Boss 98 
 
 Our Horses 99 
 
 Flower Gowns 102 
 
 The Leaf Wagon 103 
 "Water? Water Everywhere and Not A Drop to Drink" 104 
 
 The Gentleman in Patches 107 
 
 The Orchard . - 109 
 
 The Cats 112 
 
 My Diamond Ring 117 
 
 My Dogs 118 
 
 Barbed Wire Fences . 125 
 
 The Coon and the Cat 126 
 
 To Kill or to Feed 128 
 
 Potatoes, Kartoffel 129 
 
 The Turkey Bird 131 
 
 The Wheat Fields 133 
 
 The Rye Fields 135 
 
 The Oats Fields 136 
 
 The Springs 137 
 
 Black Cattle 141 
 
 The White Face Cattle 143 
 
 The Sheep 144 
 
 The Making of A Field 145 
 
 I Am Arrested and Fined $20 and Costs 146 
 
 Song -We've Signt Dot Pledge 149 
 
 So 152 
 
 Rag Carpets and Rugs 153 
 
 With A Christmas Offering 155 
 
 The Thrashers 156 
 
 Do Hogs Think? Well I'd Say, Yes 158 
 
 Haymaking 161 
 
 Lines - 165 
 
 The Friendly Herbs 166
 
 408 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 Baleing the Hay 167 
 
 The Lily Pond and Water Garden 169 
 
 I Fix A Field 170 
 
 The Farm At War 171 
 
 In the Hay Mows 173 
 
 The Freshets 174 
 
 The Clover Fields 176 
 
 The Squirrels 179 
 
 The Fords 180 
 
 Adventures 182 
 
 Making Roads and Ditches 189 
 
 Sowing Grass and Clover Seed 191 
 
 The Fools Play 193 
 
 The She Bears 195 
 
 The Rose Garden 196 
 
 The Sun Dial 197 
 
 Landing Some Post-Office Officials 198 
 
 Fairies, Brownies, Nymphs, Gnomes and Genii - 200 
 
 Domestic Science and Vinegar 202 
 
 The Nude In Art 204 
 
 The Fern Beds, and Shrubs and Flowers 208 
 
 The Violet 209 
 
 The Cellar, and the Chicken House in the Hills 210 
 
 Hunters 211 
 
 Vivisection 214 
 
 Nurses and Nuns 224 
 
 The Midwife And the Man 226 
 
 The Highest Altitude 229 
 
 The Holy Child 231 
 
 Four Angels 236 
 
 The Child 237 
 
 Baby 'Cott 245 
 
 It Isn't Fair 246 
 
 Harlots 248 
 
 The Black Plague 253 
 
 Teaching Life 256 
 
 A Noble Life 260 
 
 The Assessor 261 
 
 Before the Board of Review 233
 
 A LOVE STORY 409 
 
 A Suffragist 
 
 Oh, Mother Dear You Ought to Vote 
 
 Newspaper Work 
 
 Work And Its Value 
 
 The Blacksmith 
 
 Work For Boys And Girls 
 
 A Woman On the Supreme Bench 
 
 I Decide A Case In Court 
 
 Be Good 
 
 Riddles 
 
 David, And the Bear and the Lion 
 
 A County President 
 
 Drum Chorus 
 
 Edgar Allen Poe 
 
 Jackie Daw 
 
 Chivalry 
 
 The Bible 
 
 God's Anvil 
 
 The Plan of Salvation 
 
 Theologic Creeds And Creed Makers 
 
 Honors And Appreciation 
 
 Prayer 
 
 The Creed of Jesus 
 
 Rich Devil-Poor God 
 
 A Freethinker 
 
 Emerson And the Hottentot 
 
 Free Masons 
 
 Knights Templars Pilgrimages 
 
 Ho-Ho For the Golden Gate 
 
 The Red Cross Knight 
 
 My Saint Elizabeth 
 
 What the Farmers Need In Politics 
 
 "The Ever Feminine Draweth On" 
 
 Sonnet, Written In A Birthday Book 
 
 I Bring Houses Up the Hill 
 
 "Go Ye, and Preach the Gospel to all Nations" 
 
 "As God Lives Whatsoever is Excellent is Permanent." 
 
 Emerson. 360 
 
 Culture and Credulity ------- 363
 
 410 A FARM PHILOSOPHER 
 
 They Try to Take Me In 364 
 
 The Blue Jay 368 
 
 Supplemental Lives 369 
 
 God's Estimate of Man 371 
 
 Statues of Women 373 
 
 The Servant Girl Question 375 
 
 The Grafter 377 
 "The True Mother is She Who Numbers Her Children 
 
 By the Thousand". 382 
 
 Der Leedle Dedoughdaller 385 
 
 Blessings and Cursings 386 
 
 Mexican War Trophies 388 
 
 Hail, Hail Ye 392 
 
 I Am Elected A School Director - 394 
 
 There Is A Law 395 
 
 Religionist-Materialist 402 
 
 Krishna Mulvaney Philosopher, et al 403 
 
 Love 404 
 Teach Me -------- - 405
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 
 
 A FARM PHILOSOPHER; A LOVE STORY TEUTOPO