Norwich bulletin., 1912-08-03
THE HIGH COST OF LIVING vs. HAND-TO- FARMING FOR LOSS AND FARMING

chance to wash into them. But there l Is a difference between men and clans. l They exist under different conditions and with quite different objects in view. It doesn't really matter much if a slant of the wind and a change ot the tides starVes few bushels ot cla1Vs. But it matters very much II men and women supinely waiting Tor what luck may happen to send Sheir way, end up in the scrap-heap of ln- competence and failure.
 We can't forsee everything, it is true, But we can forsee some things. And it is not only within our power, 1T IS d part of our plainest duty to use all the foresight we haVe,-eVery least and faintest blink of it,-for the avoid ance of injury and the seizure of ad- vantage. It is not only important, 1t is vitally essential that we should all the time keep our eyes lifting and cur brains bubbling. Oh, l know 1t seems useless at times. We do the best we can, the best we know how weary our minds with worry and we tire our muscles with strain to raise some crop, and poufi along comes a frost or a hail-storm to nullify all our work. Whereupon we say "Oh, whats the use?" Well, dear hearts. what's the use of the winter storms which rage and sweep over the mountains? I don't know; you don't know; they're mighty unpleasant while they last, not only to men and chipmunks but also to the oak trees which thrash and twist and shiver in the blasts. But, somehow the oak which stands up against this sort of thing for life time, which resists the hurricanes when they come and spends the fair days sending its roots down deeper aid bracing it's branches with added fber,-somehow the oak which does this makes a great deal better timber than the pithless poplar down at the i edge of the sheltered swamp which never fights anything stronger than a summer breeze.
 You and don't know what the plans | of the Universe -Molder are about US or for us. But, whatever they may be, | it is our part to make ourselves into l it timber for His building work. i If the farmer were simply the slave | of the farm, if he were what he is solely to raise crops and make rIoney; l f the dirt he blows and hoes were more important than the Manh;od he is potentially endowed with,-why then there wouldn't be sc much diff 1 ference between men and clans, after all
 They'd both take what was com ing to them" and let it go at that.
 But we are not the servants of our | farms, nor even of our horses and cat | tie. They are all for our Use, and to 1 be used for our own sakes.
 Farming isn't in itself the end of farming; the years don't go round in ] an endless circle, one after the other treading the same monotonous ring, like padding horse in some sad cir GUS. Life is the end of farming as of all other worth while human activi- ties and Getting Somewhere is the order of the Great Ringmaster. Not merely getting our farms somewhere,
 but getting somewhere ourselves. Us ing the farms as tools or servants or roads to that end.
 This view of the farmers life and
 opportunities and objects does not lead
 to slip-shod farming. It does not
 permit or excuse slip -shod farming Ii demands and compels the very best
 farming we are capable of. It calls on
 us to farm as diligently as our
 strength, suffices; as scientifically as
 our brains can discover; as practically i Q6NOLGQll
 as duty ordains
 It has neither excuse for nor pa- l tience with the eternal Worriment
 which makes some farmers grey before
 their time: nor with the fabby i'm
 providence which leads others to lei everything go tat loose ends" Indeed
 it is more impatient of these last thar : of any other sort For the man who
 throws away opportunities is more
 contemptible than the man who
 wastes strength seeking impossible opportunities. The impossible of to.
 day may very well be possible tomor. row. And who shall know when tha
 tomorrow is to dawn? But there is nt tomorrow for opportunities wasted They take their place forever in
 dead and unreturning yesterday. 
 I'm not thinking, while writing this . of the habit some farmers share O
 leaving their moving machines ove
 winter in the last meadow mown, ant
 their blows at the end of the last fur
 row turned. That form of shiftless ness has been sufficiently preache,
 against. I'm thinking of the nor
 general habit many have of shirkini
 responsibility for the future; of ig
 noring 1t; of practicing a mere day 1 " Ne1S 444Oll1Od LII llNlnSs OL IyiuS | , shift their own duty of foresight O
 the shoulders of others, or on the la
 of chance.
 As l think over the farmer neiqh
 bors l know or have known, it seem
 to me that there is nothing which ha
 been more instrumental in holdin , 1 many of them back than their hab of heedlessness. They waste time i ' hunting for mislaid tools; they vast l strength in failing to plan their wor [ ahead; they waste energy in doin over again work which, rightly don the first time, would have needed T ] repetition; they waste money in the f.ail tn.I-