"My country, 'tis of thee!": Or, the United States of America; past, present and future. A philosophic view of American history and of our present status, to be seen in the Columbian exhibition.Johnson, Willis Fletcher
History
"My country, 'tis of thee!": Or, the United States of America; past, present and future. A philosophic view of American history and of our present status, to be seen in the Columbian exhibition.
Johnson, Willis Fletcher
United States -- Description and travel; United States -- History
Does all this mean that farming will not pay? No. Farming will pay if
backed by capital as well as practical knowledge. But it is almost
impossible that the American farmer of the present generation shall
have any capital from any source whatever. Farming, when conducted
intelligently, can be made profitable in any portion of the United
States by a man with sufficient money in his pocket. Hiram Sibley, one
of the most remarkable men whom the United States ever produced, was, at
the time of his death, in 1888, managing four hundred different farms in
nine different States of the Union, conducting all through
correspondence, and he made it his boast, in which undoubtedly he was
honest, that from each of these farms he secured a profit. But Sibley
was a millionaire twenty times over, probably forty times. Whatever his
farms needed they could have at once, and at the lowest market price,
for he always had cash to pay for whatever he wanted. Nevertheless, this
successful farmer, this millionaire, this thorough-going man of
business, said, to the day of his death, that there was no more pitiable
character in the United States than the farmer.
Nobody knows more about any one special business than the man who does
not have to attend to its details, so there is a widespread opinion and
assertion that the trouble with the farmer is that he is improvident.
Men call attention to the expenses, apparently unnecessary, which he is
continually making, particularly in the direction of comforts and even
luxuries for his family. But what can the farmer do? Everywhere east of
the Mississippi river he is near a village. His children go to school
with those of the village. They learn of comforts and luxuries to which
they are not accustomed at home. They talk about them. They think about
them. They long for them. The farmer himself is a human being. Any one
who mistakes him for a boor makes a terrible blunder. Whenever it is in
his power to make his home more comfortable he does so with a degree of
earnestness that is almost terrible. He is anxious to save himself from
the possible imputation, by his own children, of being a less careful
provider than any one with whom his family are on intimate terms.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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