The Story of a Country TownHowe, E. W. (Edgar Watson)
General
The Story of a Country Town
Howe, E. W. (Edgar Watson)
Frontier and pioneer life -- Kansas -- Fiction
I believe that nearly every farmer for miles around moved to the
neighborhood at the same time, and that my father’s wagons headed the
procession. I have heard that most of them gathered about him on the
way, and as he preached from his wagon wherever night overtook him, and
held camp-meetings on Sundays, he attracted a following of men
travelling the same road who did not know themselves where they were
going, although a few of the number started with him, among them my
mother’s father and his family. When he came to a place that suited him,
he picked out the land he wanted--which any man was free to do at that
time--and the others settled about him.
In the dusty tramp of civilization westward--which seems to have always
been justified by a tradition that men grow up by reason of it--our
section was not a favorite, and remained new and unsettled after
counties and States farther west had grown old. Every one who came there
seemed favorably impressed with the steady fertility of the soil, and
expressed surprise that the lands were not all occupied; but no one in
the great outside world talked about it, and no one wrote about it, so
that those who were looking for homes went to the west or the north,
where others were going.
There were cheap lands farther on, where the people raised a crop one
year, and were supported by charity the next; where towns sprang up on
credit, and farms were opened with borrowed money; where the people were
apparently content, for our locality did not seem to be far enough west,
nor far enough north, to suit them; where no sooner was one stranger’s
money exhausted than another arrived to take his place; where men
mortgaged their possessions at full value, and thought themselves rich,
notwithstanding, so great was their faith in the country; where he who
was deepest in debt was the leading citizen, and where bankruptcy caught
them all at last. On these lands the dusty travellers settled, where
there were churches, school-houses, and bridges--but little rain--and
railroads to carry out the crops should any be raised; and when any one
stopped in our neighborhood, he was too poor and tired to follow the
others.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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