The Connecticut labor press., 1920-11-27

ricultural implements, to improved methods of farming, to greater knowl edge of prairie conditions, to reduc tions in the cost of transportation and enlarged facilities for marketing or to world prices for the product of the farm. But whatever the causes-and no doubt all of the above contributed -the fact gradually dawned upon the settlers that land-their land-was worth money.
 It was the farmers from the United States, scouting for cheaper lands than were available in their own communi- ties, who first drove the conviction home. They came with money in their wallets; they were actually prepared to exchange real money for land. Such thing had never before been heard of in Plainville district.
 But few transactions took place {; lands were sold at five dollars, six dol larss eight dollars an acre. The farm CTS began to realize that land repre- sented wealth--that 1t was an asset. not liability-and there was a rush for the cheap railway lands that had so long gone a-begging. Harris was among the first to sense the change in the times, and a beautiful section of railway land that lay next to his homestead he bought at four dollars an acre. The first crop more than paid for the land, and Harris sudden ly found himself on the way to riches.
 The joy that came with the realiza- ton that fortune had knocked at his door and he had heard was the con trolling emotion of his heart for a year or more. But gradually, like a fog blown across moonlit night, came sense of chill and disappointment If only he had bought two sections If at least he had proved up on his pre- emption, which be might have had for nothing He saw neighbors about him adding quarter to quarter. None of them had done better than himself, but some had done as well. And in some way the old sense of oneness. the old community interest which had held the little band of pioneers to- gether amid their privations and their poverty. began to weaken and dis solve, and in its place came an fndi- yidualism and a materialism that measured progress only iR dollars and cents. Harris did not know that his gods had fallen. that his ideals had been swept away; even as he sat at supper this summer evening, with his daughters arm about his neck, he felt that he was still bravely, persistently, pressing on toward the goal, all un- aware that years ago he had left that goal like lighthouse oh rocky shore, and was now sweeping along with the turbulent tide of Mammon- ism. He still saw the light ahead, but it was now phantom of the imagina- tion He said, When am worth ten thousand I will have reached it :" when he was worth ten thousand he found the faithless light had moved on to twenty-five thousand. He said. aWheIi I am worth twenty-five thou sand will have reached it." when he was worth twenty-five thousand he saw the glow still ahead. beckoning him on to fifty thousand. To stop now might mean losing sight of his goal, and John Harris held nothing in heaven or earth so great as its attain ment.
 So. gently enough, he disengaged his daughters arm and finished his sup per in silence As soon as 1t was ended the men started for the barn, and in few minutes two wagons rat tied noisily down the trail.
 Beulah helped with the supper dish es, and then came out with the milk pails to the corral where the cows, puffing and chewing, complacently awaited her arrival But she had not reached the gate when the hired man was at her side and had slipped one of the pails from her arm.
 '.Now, Jim. don't think that's fair at all," she said and there was a tremor in her voice that vexed her. Here you're slaving all day with coal and water. and think that's enough, without milking cows at night"
 But Jim only smiled and stirred a COW into position.
 There was tuneful song of the tin pails as the white streams rattled on their bottoms.