The Coconino sun. (Flagstaff, Ariz.) 1898-1978, 1915-06-25
THE FARMER IS THE
ONE REAL SPORT

When it comes to the question of
real sport the farmer has them all
bested. He is the one genuine sport
in the national life. In the spring
time he CANDLES his summer wages
and the earning capacity of his land
that there will be plenty of rain in
due season and sunshine at harvest.
All that the farmer does he does at
the risk of losing 1865 days of hard
labor and the interest on his capital
investment for whole year. When
he plants his early grain he does it
on a wager with Nature that there
will be no late frost or lingering
freeze to kill it in the sprout and if,
by chance, his planting is delayed, he
simply takes another bet with the
weather clerk that the drought will
not "set in" early enough to blight
the fullness of the crop.
The farmer plants an orchard-it is
a chance he takes against the canker
worm and the codling crop.
The sensitive souls in the city 60
out on June morning and see cloud
in the sky. All that it means to them
is perhaps a day of inconvenience or
menace to some personal enjoyment.
But on the farm there is field of new
mown alfalfa. The farmer has made
a bet with the elements he can get
that hay "cured" and safely stored
away before the thunderstorm comes
up, and on the winning of his bet de-
ponds the winter food supply for his
cattle and his horses.
The farmer stocks his pens with
Jersey Reds or Poland Chinas; it is a
chance he has taken that he can sell
the increase and lift the mortgage on
the lower eighty" before the hog
cholera comes down the lane from the
next county and stops over night at
his place. He fattens a bunch of
promising cattle; another wager that
the market will not take a big slump
the very morning he unloads them at
the stock yards in the city.
There always is the element of
chance to keep the farmer alert and
attentive to the game. 1t never rains
quite enough or it rains too much. 1t
does not fall at the right time or else
it falls at the wrong time. The farm
er must outwit the weather or he
stands to lose. He has much at stake
against rain and drought alike.
Every morning he hears of some
new enemy approaching-a new bug
in the wheat, a new worm in the corn,
new moth in the orchard or a new
microbe in the live stock. The scient-
lists are at work all the time to mar
shall fresh armies of enemies and
march them against the fields and the
crops and all the farmer has.
And the farmer bets them all he can
beat them at the game. That is the
fascination of the farm. Every hour
there is new problem to solve; every
day new situation to try his mettle
with dollars at stake all the time.
There is the answer to the question
as to why the farmer does not quit
the game. It is because it is too we'll
worth while; that is, for the men who
have the right stuff in them. The weak
become discouraged at the odds
against them and fall out of the game,
but for the right sort, once a farmer
always a farmer. Take him away
from the land and he is like fish out
of water. The noise and the hustle
and the bright lights of the city can
not make him content. Nothing 60
ing on in town." he says. "There is
too little of variety here for me-"