The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1879-04-30
FARMERS TROUBLES.
A Humorist Tells Us Of the Many Trials
Which tho Patient Agricultural Un-
derRccB.

FARMERS TROUBLES.
A HumoriRt Tells Us OF tho Many Trials
Which the Patient Agriculturist Un-
dergcos.
r. j. Burdette, the Burlington 0a.)
HaWkeye journalist, while on q recent
lecturing tour through Illinois, wrote
as follows:
From Augusta to Macomb, every field
was full of plows and patient farmers.
Dear, patient, good-natured, grumbling
agriculturist. Where farmer gets his
good nature from is a mystery to me
every time I look at him. I watched
him from the car window, plodding
along at the tail of the plow, and l won
dered that he ever smiled at all, under
any provocation. Of Ill men, it seems
to me the farmer has the best right to
grumble. Only, he never grumbles at
the right things. He grumbles at prices,
and then of course nobody sympathizes
with him nor cares q cent for his trou-
bles, because we grumble at the same
thing. Prices never did suit anybody.
The seller always thinks they are too
low, and the buyer always knows they
are too high. The merchant goes into
bankruptcy because he is compelled to
sell his goods for half what they cost
him; and the customer goes naked and
starves because he can't afford to pay
one-half what is asked for them. So
the farmer, when he grumbles at prices.
is no worse off than the rest of us, and
accordingly attracts no sympathy.
But here is where, to my way OF
thinking, the gazelle comes in for the
farmer.
1t is spring, and the annual warfare
begins. Early in the morning the jo-
cund farmer hies him to the field. and
hunts around in the dead weeds and
grass for the plow he left out there
Somewhere some time last fall. When
he finds it, he takes it to the shop to
have it mended. When it is mended
he goes back into the field with it.
Half way down the first furrow he
laws, he runs the plow fairly into big
live oak root, the handles alternately
break rib on this side of him and
jab the breath out of him on the
other, and the sturdy root, looking up
out of the ground with a pleased
smile of recognition, says cheerfully:.
"Ah, Mr.. Thistlepod, ut it again,
eh?"
Fifty feet further on he strikes a
stone that doubles up the plow point
like n piece of lead, and while the
amazed and breathless agriculturist
leans, limp heap of humanity, across
the plow, the relic of the glacial period
remarks, sleepily:
"Ah, ha! spring here already Glad
you woke me up"
And then the granger sits down and
patiently tries to tie on that plow
point with a hickory withe, and while
he pursues this fruitless task, the
friendly crow swoops down near
enough to ask:
"Goin' to put this twenty in corn,
this year, Mr.. Thistlepod?"
And before he has time to answer
the sable bird, tiny grasshopper,
wriggling out off clod so full of eggs
that they can't be counted, shouts
briskly:
"Here we are again, Mr.. Thistlepod;
dinner for 500, ,00O, 900, ,000!
And then q slow-moving, but very
positive potato bug, crawls out into the
sunlight to see if the frost has faded
his stripes, and says: ::
"The oid:fashioned peachblow pota-
toes are the best for. a sure, crop, put
the early rose should be planted for
the first marx ket."
Then several new kinds of bugs, who
haven't made any record yet, climb
over the fence and cone up to inquire
about the staple crops of the neighbor-
hood, and before he can get through
with them Professor Tice sends him q
circular stating that there won't be a
drop of rain from the middle of May
till the last of October. This almost
stuns him, but he is beginning to feel
little resigned when dispatch is re-
ceceived from the Department Of Agri.-
culture at Washington, saying that all
indications point to a summer OF un-
precedented, almost incessant and long
continued rains and floods, and advis-
ing him to plant no root crops at all.
While he is trying to find words in
which to express his emotion, a neigh
Dor drops in to tell him that all the
peach trees in the country are winter
killed, and that the hog cholera is rag
ing fiercely in the northern part OF the
township. Then his wife comes out to
tell him the dog has fallen into the
we'll, and when the poor man gets to
the dooryard, his children with much
shouting and excitement meet him and
tell him there are couple Of CATS. o
the pole denomination, in the spring
house, and another one under the barn.
With tears and groans he returns to
the tield,. but by that time it has be-
gun to snow SO hard he can't see the
horses when he stands. at the ploW.
He is discouraged and starts for the
house with his team, when he meets
man who bounces him for using q
thlpe-horse clevis he made himself, and
wrings ten reluctant dollars out of him
for it. When he reaches the house the
drive-well man is waiting for him, and
while he is settling with him a clock
ppdder comes in. and II lightning rod
man. screened by the storm, climbs up
on the ten dollar smoke house and
f,stens 1866 worth of lightning
rods on it, and before the poor farmer
can get his gun half loaded, the bailiff
comes in to tell him that he has been
drawn on the jury.
No, I would not, even if / could, be
Il farmer.
The life is pleasant and independent,
but it seems to have it's drawbacks.
If I were farmer I would grumble
all 1 wanted, and thump the man who
| found fault with ME for it.