Savannah courier. (Savannah, Tenn.) 1885-1979, 1893-04-06
FARMER AND PLANTER.
The RURAL HOME.
IL Is Not What II should lie, hut IT Is
IMPROVING.

IL Is Not What IL should he, hut II Is
Improving.
After considering that our food, cloth
ing, fuel, cattle and almost every essen
tial of life come from the soil, we are
not surprised when we hear the ques-
tion;' "How is the farmer?" lie can
stand an embodiment of independence
or subsist in the dregs of poverty II
ne tenders an aggressive imitation the
bee will fill his gum with honey, and
by his silent permission the fly will
take II away.
Yes, when the farmer obtains his
subsistence from home production the
world will nestle in his grasp. But
how is he now? Some one in the dirt
robbed him of pauperism; others on
the high plain of prosperity; and n
large number have gained luxurious
plenty. Yet, to take the southern
farmer as whole, he is hardlya COM
parison to the farmer who titled the
same soil five decades in the past. Then
man walked through the verdure of his
field with pride, and reared cattle for
home and market. Now, in an air of
discontentment, he walks through a
field of dwarfed vegetation, and buys
cattle and supplies from the west. But
there is courage in the breast of n
southern man.
In 1865, when five years OF war left
him in restitution and his soil bathed
in human blood, he never stopped;
but turned the field of battle into
field of luxuriant harvest Having
once more gained his equilibrium, he
gradually Inundated himself to the
western man for grain, and to the New
England man for apparel, and in 1891
the fleecy staple had monopolized his
land; and his food was brought from
the occidental bounds. At this station
there seems to have been n change, for
many granaries and meat houses that
were destitute of home production in
January, 1891, are to-day stocked with
a sufficient supply. In preparation for
futurity broad area has already re-
ceived the germ of its wheat crop, and
the tillers' pillow is preparing land for
the maize. 1t is true much good soil
has gone to an alluvial deposit, but
much still remains, and there is an ex-
haustless supply of material for fer
tilizing. To great extent, this idea
has loomed before the southern famer;
and with continued application, few
| years will find the grain crop spreading
in its vigor and glistening meath a
southern sky. What next? We want
to utilize the water power; we want
employment for southern men in the
| south; and why not have it? There is
a mammoth power rushing over our
shoals and falls in idleness, that could be
turned on the factory wheel and cause
millions of spindlcs to hum the
buzz of prosperity, and fill the dis
mantled homes of this far land with
occupants clad in garments spun on
their native stream.
Many factories have already come to
our aid; but there is room for many
more, and, thanks to the tide of enter
prise, they are coming. A hearty well
come will greet their arrival when
they come. The fortunate owner of a
factory site is eager to see develop
ment spread over his bounds. The ar
tisan stands in readiness to construct
domicies for the increasing population.
The artist stands with his pen. to por-
tray to the world the bonanza of the
south
Amid these lucrative vocations, we
want seats of learning arrayed in all
their splendor. With men, at the
helm, capable of propagating knowl-
edge, and carrying the young mind to
an intellectual maturity. Educa.
ton is sought, and already she is on
the brow of the hill Every rural gath
ering, hamlet or town has its academy,
high school or college. The learned
professor goes amid the green harvest
and tells the farmer boy: "We want
you at school," He goes to the
country domicile and tells the fail
maiden: "The old school bell will cal
you, respond to its peal" Thus learn
ing enters the hut, as well as the pal
ace Tuition is within the reach of all
and a big majority of our children are
grasping the golden opportunity
knowledge is rapidly sweeping ovel
the rustic domain, and l long to see the
day when science has illuminated
every home: when the southern farmer
reaps bountiful harvest of grain, ant
the willing spindle huns to the work
mans ear.-Southern Farmer.