San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1888-02-17
One of the DaIrympIes.

Dalrymple, owner of the mammoth
Dakota farm which bears his name,
was in town yesterday with his
family, en- route To southern Califor-
mia to spend the winter. says the
Omaha Herald. The Dalrymple farm
is, in ITS way, small empire, over
which the proprietor holds undisputed
sway. IL contains $1,000 acres, of
which $1,000 acres are under cultiva-
ton. Wheat is practically the only
product. Enough grain for stock feed
is raised, but nothing but the specula-
tive cereal is grown for market Six
hundred men are employed during
harvest, and eight hundred head of
stock are used in farm work. The
blowing is done with 1875 gang plows,
the harvesting and thrashing by count
less machines. The farm is divided
into sections of 1000 acres each, and
( each section has its foreman, whose
work Of superintendent is done from
the back of horse furnished by the
proprietor. The men on the several
sections live in boarding-houses oper-
ated by the proprietor, and a small
store supplies the minor wants of the
this year has been, Mr.. Dalrymple
said, IL bushels to the acre. All of
it would eventually be shipped to Du-
luth, where mo. hard" as the best
wheat of the region is called, is worth
76 cents per Dushcl. At present Oil
yer Dalrymple is holding in his own
elevators on the farm 250. 900 bushels,
which he will sell when the May option
in Duluth touches 80 cents per bushel.
The Mr.. Dalrymple who was at the
Paxton said that he was not finan-
cially interested in the great firm.
He was in o. Dalrymple's employ, but
had little side issue of his own-a
little tract of 5000 acres.
There having been published few
days ago statement from Congress
man Laird to the effect that wheat
raising did not pay, the mathematical
genius of this paper was assigned to
the task of computing, from the data
furnished by Mr.. Dalrymple, the net
profit Of the Dalrymple farm. Basing
the calculation on the estimated cost
of raising wheat in Dakota-45 cents
per bushei-the mathematician foLnd
that there was handsome profit on the
right side of the ledger. Add to the
cost of production, which cost in
cludes every conceivable unavoidable
expense, the rate of railroad trans
pOrtation to market, ia cents per
bushel, and one finds that wheat can
be raised on the Dalrymple farm and
laid down at Duluth for 56.4 cents.
With cash wheat at rs cents, there is
a net profit of 1876 cents per bushel,
or gross profit of $50, 964 on 458, 900,
bushels, which is the total yield of
twenty-seven thousand acres at seven
teen bushels per acre.
Mr.. Dalrymple was so hurried in
his departure for California that these
figures could not be submitted TO him
for revision. The main purpose of the
computation, however, seems to have
been estaDlished-there is still balm
in Gilead for the sun-dried, mosquito
bitten, and blizzard-blOwn granger in
the 'land of Dakota" Mr.. Dalrym-
pies reply, when asked what was done
in the winter with the farm. strength
ems the theory of profit. He said:
1--WE leave the farm outdoors, lock
up everything portable, put men in
SIihi Vi LuC anu dNdls
where, everywhere"
Certain persons who profess to know
the cost of wheat production in the
territorial home of the bonanza far
mer claim that the berry can be raised
for q cents per bushel. While the
HerdtdS mathematician is not prepared
to successfully contradict the state
ment, he has elected to base his calcu-
lations on the first-namcd estimate
Otherwise it would be found that the
profit of the Dalrymple farm for the
season of 1887 was something like
$172,574- a sum far ahead of even the
expectations of tenderfeet who went
to Dakota, thinking that wheat grew
spontaneously and could be sold
standing in the field at 81 per bushel.
Conferred in self-a perfumery- bot
tle.-Neto HdUen Nes0s
The New York Club has mortgaG
its new club house for 100000.
Ray.
The fields are drest in subdued garb to-day
The birds seek southern chimes on heetest
wing;
My life seems but a sad and wasted thing,
And all my song weird and mOurnful lay,
Because dear one, thou art not with me
here
Because no more thy smiling face see;
The sweetest buds are faded, dead and sere,
And dull and desolate the dreary lea.
Yet come to me, sweet love, and darkest
night
Shall melt and merge itself into the day,
And brightest sunshine gladden. all my
way,
And every path be filed with fond delight
More dear thou art than gold or diadems
And lovel!er than pearls or costly gems.
Luther q. RiRRs.