The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1910-04-02
THE SOUTH As A
FIELD FOR POULTRY

The South is land without
rival in its bright mornings, sunny
Moons and starry eventides-without
a rival in trees, fields, silvery stream
lets and azure heavens. Italy may
have bluer skies, but they are beyond
the Alps; Switzerland may have
clearer lakes, but they are shut in by
narrower boundaries. Nowhere are
there as many broad acres under as
wide a scope of unremitting sun
shine. Nowhere are there as many
brave bodies making rich soil for
vegetation as rises from the honor
ed graves in the land of the Con
quered Banner The South! What
world of melody fills the air at
the touch of the fairy wand of
thought recalling Dixie and The
Girl | Left Behind Me-" The South!
What a world of industry has arisen
from the ashes of her vanished past;
what a world of unused material is
growing in her surface, blowing in
her breezes, and cleaning in her
sunshine for the almost virgin in
| dustry of poultry culture. The in
dustry that should appoint in every
farmyard a gallant Chanticleer to
| herald the dawning of the morning
| hours, and halt the dancers at mid
| night of the closing year. An indus
| try that should make merry music
| for the hillsides and the dales, and
merry hearts for the matrons, maids
and males, and merry jingling of the
guineas to fill the purse that erst-
while was but trash.
Musing on the retreating years of
the decades that have silently slip
| ped into the infinite guidance of Him
who gave them birth, we see the
plantations of the "Old South" white
with cotton blooms, sweet with the
| odor of the ripening sugar-cane, and
resOunding with the deep-throated
harmony of contraband corn songs
rising and swelling in dulcet meas
ures to the flashing of the cutting
blade and the moving of the nimble
fingers as they lay low the mellifiu-
| Gus stalk and bag the white pods
which, by and by, will be transform
ed into a harvest of gold. These
were the days when the toll of man
was the only factor counted in the
nations wealth. These were the
days when the mothers donned their
robes of silk and the graceful man
titles draped their ease-loving Shout
ders, whose highest mission was a
place for loving heads to rest Sand
loving hearts to deal out their tim
| orOuS tales of romance with some
princely swain of Southern chivalry.
| These were the lOtus-eating days of
dreamful peace. But a change came
over the homes of our luxurious land
in answer to the red cry of war, and
though bathed in manly blood, wash
ed in wOmen'S tears, and dotted over
with silent cities of the dead, ii
brought change of conditions and
opportunities, and opened new
world to women. Labor is now dig
nified for all alike, and made almost
majestic to woman, when she crowns
it with success-a success adorned
with the grace of tender hand. Nc
longer must the mothers, and sisters
and wives, and sweethearts sit with
folded hands and dream the day
away for the world of action invites
them. No pursuit, now open within
their grasp, is more suited to then
strength, or productive of greater
reward, than the perfecting of the
farmyard fowls whose intrinsic
worth and natural beauty respond sc
readily to painstaking care. And il
no land can these fowls be brought
to greater perfection at so little ex
pense of mind, muscle and money
Indeed, with our salubrious climate
our vast territory, our semi-tropica
sun, our stretches of green, and oul
> long love-dream summers, more egg:
and more downy feathered thing!
are possible to the South than any
where else in this great empire o
. God. We only need women a!
guardians of the poultry yard tt
make this one of the most lucrat iy,
. fields of business, affording also
graceful and healthful employment
} curing ennui and soothing griefs.
= | am a breeder of Buff Orping
f tons. My Joyous Gard" poultr!