The Daily state journal. [volume] (Alexandria, Va.) 1868-1874, 1872-07-30
Isolation of Farmers.

Isolation of Farmers.
am reminded that farmer has no need
to fag himself with hard field work. TO a
certain extent this is true; but only" A
masters eye fattens the horse, and only a
masters foot the ground"
If farming be undertaken as an amuse-
ment, absence is possible indeed, the longer
the absence the greater the amusement to
the on-lookers; but if farming be undertaken
as business, presence is imperative-pres-
ence with its associations, and its compare
tive isolation.
OF the more familiar associations, type
may be had in Pat, sitting on the door step
at dusk, Eliminating and smoking black
stemmed pipe. The isolation is less OBJ
vious, but more CALLING. Farms do not lie
extensively IN. cities and the least fear
we live under, is one of mobs. In fact,
there is not even habit of congregation
in farmers. They meet behind the church,
between services in a starched way; they
drive to town meetings in their best toggery,
and discuss ballotings and the weather.
possibly linger an hour or two about the
tavern or pet grocers but they do not
meet as towns-people neet--on the walk,
over counters, on the railway, in the ON
nibus, and in each others houses. have
darkened parlors but the dust will gather
again. They have no market-iairs which
will bring them together with samples of
their crops, to compare notes, and prices,
and methods of culture.
There is no conference of the farmers as
body--no trade guild-no banding of
endeavor to work common triumph, or
to ferret out common abuse. For years,
in many parts of New England, the sheep
culture has been entirely ruined by the
ravages of lawless town dogs, and the farm
ers groan over it, and bury the dead sheep,
and whisper valorously between church
services about bludgeons and buck shot,
but never make concerted urgent protest,
or if they rally so far as to send one Of their
own people to the Legislature, he, poor
fellow, does not pass ten days under the
fingers of the lobbyists, but he sinks into the
veriest dribblet of politician. and gives
the last proof of it by making pompous
speech on " Federal relations, mot
worth the carcass of eve lamb.
Under these conditions, any new and
valuable methods of farm-practice do not
spread with any rapidity they hobbe
lamely over innumerable hanking walls.
1t is possible they may get an airing in the
agricultural journals, but good and service
able as these journals are, their statements
do not influence like personal communi-
tons. Reforms want the ring of spoken
words, and some electric social Chain trav-
ersing a whole district, and flashing with
neighborly talk. .s-..
The man of education, giving himself
over to the retirement of a farm-life, will
find this isolation, sooner or later, grating
Sorely. Whatever love of the pursuit, its
cares, indulgences, attractions, successes
may engross him, certain attrition with
the world is as necessary to his mental
health and briskness of thought, as a rub
bing-post for his pigs. He may let himself
off in newspapers, or he may thumb his
library and the journals, but these offer but
dead contact, and possess none of that
kindling magnetism which comes from per-
sonal intercourse. Type grows wearsome
at last, however stocked with information
and gorgeous fancies, and man frets for
the lively rebound of discussion.
Friends from the city may drop upon you
from time to time, exercising this compass
sion for your retirement; and they treat
you compassionately. of course the now
city of the scene aud the life has charms
for any metropolitan. whatever his tastes,
and he bears himself very briskly at the
first. The view is charming the we'll
water is charming the big oaks (they are
all maples,) are charming. And his eye
falls upon . riotous hedge Of Osage-orange,
Dear me, that's the hawthorn how beau
tiful it isl"
Of course you do not correct him; in
fact you partake of his exhileration, and
seem to see things with new eyes.
And, bless me, here's your boy dts a
girl.; how old is hep" (patting her head).
What fine flow of spirits he is in, to be
sure! You show him up and down your
grounds always your grounds, he calls
them, lift be only potato garden).
Presently his eye lights upon bloom
ing Weigelia. All, a dwarf apple and do
you go largely into fruit? Upon which you
offer him red Astrachan, and remark that
the Weigelia has not borne thus far I; it is
Chinese shrub and little understood as vet.
Is it possible - Chinese! so fart
seems to tbrive!' And it does.
You stroll, by and by, into the library,
and leave him for a few moments lounging
in the arm chair, while you slip out to give
some orders to the dtchers in the meadow.
Upon yonr return, entering somewhat
brusquely expecting to find him deep in
some book you wakcn him out of sound
sleep.
"Upon my word" he says, " this is a
beautiful air. If lived here / should
sleep half my time.o
The reflection is somewhat dismal one,
though well meant.
All this, however, illustrates what |
want to say--that the citizen engrossed in
active professional or business pursuits,
when he visits farm friend, goes with the
very sensible purpose and hope of escaping
for while the interminable mental strain
of the city, and of giving himself up to full
relaxation. And this fact makes the isola-
ton of which | have spoken, more appar-
ent than ever.
And it is an isolation that cannot alto
gether be left behind one. On your visits
to the city, friends will remark your seedi-
ness, not unkindly, but with an oblique
eye cast up and down your figure-as a
jockey measures ff.limbcd horse long
out to pasture. You may wear what toy
gerry you will, keeping by the old tailors,
and showing yourself carefully read up to
the latest dates, and still you shall betray
yourself in some old dinner joke-dead