VOL. XXIX.
INDIANAPOLIS* IND.  JULY 7, 1894.
NO. 27.
Farming aa a Business Compared With
Otber Industries.
[Read be'ore Putnam Oounty   Institute:   at Balrt-
brldge, by Albert O. l.ockrldga, of< ir.encastle.'
It has been truthfully said that there are
three momentous events in a man's biography: his birth, his marriage and Ms
death. Each has muoh to do with his life's
history. Closely following upon these,
and scaroely less in importance than the
first named, is that of a choice of vocation*
To the young man who, with thoughtful
brow and earnest eyes, bends above the
different kinds of tools of life with one
kind or another of which we all must earn
our bread, it is indeed a moment fraught
with deepest concern. Will he embrace
the law? The matchless eloquence of Webster, Clay and Conkling will inspire him
to strive manfully for place. Will the
hum of commerce reach his ear and invite
his effort? The splendid mixture of mercantile success and philanthropy of Pea-
body, Childs and Cooper will spur him to
noble deeds. Will he choose the chisel of
the sculptor, or the brush of the artist?
Power's Greek Slave, or Munkaczy's
Christ Before Pilate, will make his heart
pant with emulative longings. Will he
seek to mold public opinion through the
medium of the press? Let the names of
Greeley, Prentice and Raymond be his
watch-cry. If he put his hand to the plow
to till the soil, to reap the ripened grain,
to shelter the-helpless flock, let him never
forget that he has chosen one of the noblest callings of earth, one that can boast
of some of the best names among men for
enthusiastic followers, and let him not
turn back from it.
How shall I compare farming, which is
the business you and I have chosen for
our life work, with other industries?
Other callings, though differing in minor
details yet are the same in essentials; but
farming is a business distinctively and
specifically of its own. You may compare
the manufacture of nails with the output
of the woolen factory and the grist mill,
and compare with absolute accuracy and
facility in all particulars, even to the number of pounds of steam required in the
boiler of each engine that supplies the
motive power of the respective plants, but
a comparison of farming with other pursuits is difficult and unsatisfactory. It
cannot but be more or less inaccurate, and
we can only make such comparisons of
those important essentials which may be
summed up in the phrase "Getting on in
the world," and so, perhaps, fulfill the obit   ject of this paper.
Comparisons are always favorable or
unfavorable, or both, with a preponderance. Let us first look at the unfavorable
side of farming compared with other industries:
Farm work, as a rule, is much harder,
and more hours in a day are involved,
than any other business, unless it be railroad duties or the practice of medicine.
Closely joined to this is the overshadowing importance of finishing the task ln
hand at once, for if there is one place above
another on all this broad earth, where
time presses like a relentless creditor, it is
on the farm, and every season of the year
brings Its weight of duties. The manufacturer of nails, the weaver of cloths and
the miller can go steadily forward to the
completion of their outputs, regardless of
the weather, for dry roof are overhead;
but with the farmer the weather is an all
important factor—it can make or mar his
business, and he must patiently endure
delays, devastations of floods or other discouragements whose names axe legion
throughout the whole year.
One of the severest afflictions that visit
the farmer, in all kinds of weather, too,
are the "simply awful" misrepresentations
of the spring poet and the city born editor
of rural aflairs.   Neither knows the difler-
ence between a stalk-cutter and a hay-
tedder, aud yet both have been all but
caught in the very act of writing, with exceeding fervor and rapturous outburst of
language of the peaceful and delightsome
change of duties constantly going on
about a farm. They murmur like a summer brook over the felicitous thought that
farming Is one dally round of exchange of
light, airy duties; they say that the farmer
gaily skips from this task to that duty
like the industrious bee from flower to
flower; they gush about honest tan, and
care-free hearts, and wind-kissed cheeks
and all that. Now such heated exuberance
of thought sounds well enough on paper,
and it leads captive the young and the
simple minded, but mark you ths spring
poet and the city born editor of rural aflalrs
don't work off that kind of information on
farmers. At least not in j lb lots. Because
the farmer knows better. Under his old
straw hat lurks the shrewd thought that
if these gurgling, imaginative writers
could go out on the farm for just one week
and jump hastily from grubbing alders to
thinning corn in the hottest part of June,
and skip with celerity of lightning from
thence to digging post holes In August, In
soil as hard as the wheat market, so to
speak, their music would take on a very
much sadder cadence by Saturday night.
It is easy to note the di ffarence between
the manufacturer and the agriculturist—
with the general advantage in favor oi the
former—for while the manufacturer produces his wares with labor-saving ma
chlnery and experiences only the vexatious
details of selling them at remunerative
prices, the agriculturist must contend with
drouth, or excess of rain, with pestilential
insects or other unexpected calamities,
until the crop is matured, and immediately
thereafter enter upon the difficult task of
finding a market for It.
The Isolation of a farm Is unpleasant
and sometimes even unprofitable. The
news of the world is at least a day old before the farmer reads It; sudden fluctuations in grain and stock may occur In that
brief time and thus the advantages of trade,
which after all means a good deal even in
so limited a period, are quickly seized by
those nearer commercial centers. Good
turnpikes obviate this in a greater or less
degree, and In the same ratio poor roads
add to the misfortune. Then, too, one is
so wearied by the day's toil that he does
not seek the society of his equals in the
evening but remains at home, and so feels
the loss of fellowship with those congenial
companions whom he meets only at rare
intervals. This makes against the farmer,
for he not only loses this magnetic contact
of congenial spirits but also recreation
from toil that we all need—that dally needful change that Is the spice of Ufe, and
which is a pleasure that men in most other
branches of business have interwoven all
through their duties. This recreation may
be fitly compared to sleep, the "innocent
sleep" of which Shakespeare so beautifully
says:
"Sleep, tbat knit* up tbe raveled sleeve of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labonr's bath.
Balm of hart minds, great nature's second courae.
Chief nouriaher ln life's feast."
This isolation and consequent contraction
of social  life Is more keenly felt by the
farmer's family than by himself, perhaps.
To them it becomes at times almost un
bearable.
The lack of constant intellectual contact
with other bright minds is a source of
never failing regret to the ambitious
farmer. While it is true that it takes
brains.to run a farm just as it takes brains
to run anything that Is worthy of being
run, and he has every reason for believing
that he possesses the requisite qualifications, yet he feels the loss of that frequent
Interchange of ideas with other bright
minds, that comparison of experiments,
those   shrewd  business  prognostications
that are pleasant, profitable and full of encouragement. "Heading maketh a full
man," says the old proverb, "but conference a ready one." In short the progressive farmer Is not content with his own
ideas ln the management of his aflalrs, but
desires an exchange with others in a like
pursuit.
I shall now endeavor to discuss a point,
the negative and affirmative fides of which
are most sharply drawn, each coasting of
strong advocates and both in possession of.,
a formidable array of evidence in support I
of their respective positions. It is the central point of this paper—as Indeed lt would
be the central point of any paper of social
interest—for, talk as we please, the financial side of the question in anything is
first, last and always the all important
one.   It is thi*:
Farming Is not as remunerative, proportionately, as other industries. The miller,
the weaver and the manufacturer generally, by reason of their protective associations which are strong and influential, can
keep the quotations for buying raw material far enough under the selling scale to
annually realize good profits from their
respective outputs; but the farmer, floating plone upon the financial sea with his
year's crop of cereals or fatted stock, bereft of the strength that lies behind systematic, well directed organization, is left
aimlessly drifting, finally to either meet
disaster upon tho treacherous rocks of a
glutted market or seek anchorage in the
first haven,be it friendly or otherwise, that
looms above the tireless waves. The manufacturer can control the expenses of his
establishment—which is a very important
factor—and can put his finger upon his
financial position at any season of the year
—which is another factor scarcely less in
importance—but the farmer, by reason of
its requiring a whole year or nearly so to
complete his output, never knows what is
ahead until his productions are cashed,
and, mind you, somebody else generally
makes the prioe at which he cashes. Will
I be accused of exaggeration when I present tke picture of the farmer toiling la-
borously through the cold of winter and
the heat of summer, of then gathering the
results of his work into some convenient
and comfortable place and then inviting
those less competent than himself to judge
the value of such commodities to assemble,
assess the goods, pick out the best for
themselves and leave the remainder for
the farmer?   Nay, verily.
How often when reading the newspapers
one comes across such paragraphs as the
following, barring names:
"Mr. and Mrs. Grain Gambler are spending the summer at Sea Breeze Hotel, Old
Point Comfort."
Think of a farmer living at a hotel in
the summer time, with wheat at fifty cents
a bushel and good horses worth only from
forty to sixty dollars? Why, he would eat
his own head off in a month!
"Colonel and Mrs. Heavy Commission
will leave for Southern Italy next Saturday on the steamship City of Rome. They
will be absent a year."
Where is the farmer who could bathe his
tired soul In Southern Italy for a whole
year, with hogs at four dollars per hundred
and potatoes only thirty-five cents a bushel?   He's not here; he's in paradise.
Then this: "Farmer Hard Toil has just
harvested a crop of timothy grass that
yielded two tons to the acre. Considering
the unpropitious weather and breakage of
machinery the crop Is in splendid condition. Mr. Hard Toil sold the hay yesterday to Hay bailer A Co. for thirty cents
per owt."
That means six dollars a ton and twelve
dollars an acre, out of which must come
taxes, cost of harvesting, interest on investment, etc.
Now put these three newspaper Items
together: While Mr. and Mrs. Grain
Gambler and Col. and Mrs. Heavy Commission were off on pleasure jaunts, meanwhile having made enough money to defray all expenses out of a business that
depended wholly upon agriculturists for
success, Farmer Hard Toll has labored
through the hot July days to make an insignificant profit out of one part of his
farm, while his family stayed at home and
drudged^ln the kitchen. Is this,too, exaggeration?
Do not misunderstand me. I am not
endeavoring to maintain that farming Is
at such a low ebb that nothing can be
made in it; tbat one must actually get out
of the business in order to avoid bankruptcy. What I wish to emphasize is the
fact, and that alone, that the profits of
farming as compared with gains securing
in other lines are small—too miserably
small and insignificant for the amount of
muscle and mind employed In making
and gatheirlng them; that those
who buy our products earned in as
honest sweat as ever was shed over
legitimate toil, get them for nothing precisely in the difference that exists between
what they pay for the goods and what
those goedsare actually worth, and under
heaven that is tyranny and wrong! I
know of but few things, if indeed any,
this side the gates of hell meaner and more
contemptible than the craven, sordid
spirit that seeks to obtain something for
nothing—to batten off the toll of others,
and falling in that, to dole out just as beggarly a pittance in payment of the honest
claim as the adversity or unfortunate position of the seller will fling to him the unjust advantage. The farmer does not want
the earth, but weighed in the unerring
scales ot that inborn sense of justice that
vouchsafes to the lowliest of God's creatures comfort of body and comfort of
mind, he demands his part of the globe.
It is entirely unnecessary to talk to the
farmer about the impetus of energy, economy, close observation, practice of the best
agricultural suggestions, etc., to win success on the farm, for such elements of
power are used there just as faithfully and
intelligently as similar effective forces are
practiced in other lines of business. No
one tries to disparage such advantages;
none of us ignore or seek to shirk from
such obligatory claims. The question does
not rest here at all; has In fact but little to
do with it, but Instead swings, as surely as
the needle to the north, back to the proposition that farming does not pay in proportion like other pursuits.
View it therefore from whatever standpoint you may, there are certainly discouraging features about the enumeration of the farm. The disposition of some
to throw the burden of taxation upon
land, many of them deriving their support
from regular incomes and bitterly opposing income taxation; and of others even to
remove titles to farms that were earned in
the sweat of onr farmers, increase the
annoyances of the farmer. Such foreboding reminds me of the old colored man
whose son had been arrested for some offense. Meeting an acquaintance one
morning the following   dialogue   ensued:
"Brudder Horn, how did yo' son come
out'en de trial?
"De Jedge done gib 'in two munfs in de
county jail."
"Pears to medatyo' ought 'erbe pow'ful
thankful, Brudder Horn, he got off mighty
light, he did."
"He didn't git off so light as yo' might
think, Brudder Hooks, fo' when de two
munfs is up de sheriff gwine to hang dat
boj!"
Here I shall leave the point at issue. I
am not going to suggest a remedy for increasing the revenues of the farm, for
such an attempt would only exceed the
Continued on mage I.t.