Year: 1874




1 dislike superlatives. and I have a
horror of the gushing style; therefore I
cannot say all that I feel in regard to
the Order of the Patrons of Husbandry.
I must curb my pen and trim my SEN
tences for the sake of rhetoric. But I
earnestly wish that those who sit in
their counting-rooms and essay to make
light of the farmers movement, and
those who from their purple-cushioped
pews and rosewood chancelrail send
their spare pennies for the improve
ment of the condition of the natives Of
Borriboola- Cha, could see what l have
seen and know what have known
they would surely feel as I feel, that
one wiser than man is guiding with
cloud by day, and pillar of fire by
night, this great army of workers up to
a broader and better life.


Six months ago | had little interest
in or knowledge of the farmers of Iowa.
L looked upon them as class of people
who were made poor and kept poor from
the very overplus of their productions;
the richness of the soil and their own
never ending labor surfeiting the mar
ket and reacting upon them. never
inquired into the causes of their condi.
ton farther than this. The ''middle- g
men were my neighbors. That they
became rich and improved the town
was a matter Of congratulation. The
causes of their success in business I
never understood.


My husband became interested in
agriculture, and was solicited to join a
Grange, and became Worthy Master,
~ about the only person within the
limits Of the Grange capable to fill the
place. [ Joined to keep him company,
feeling no interest in it, understanding
little of its purposes and caring less.


There were perhaps thirty members.
Not one face among them that I had
ever seen before The men all looked
alike to me; with untonsured heads,
and unkempt boards The women were
in the plainest garments; some Of them
with hair so plentiful and so brightly
tinted, that any city belle would have
been glad t. possess it-yet dressed in
such a manner that it deformed instead
Of beautifying. l remarked to some
one that l had joined the army of the
great unwashed. The Worthy Master,
as he blacked his boots and donned his
clean linen for the Grange meeting,
would remark that he feared the men,
bers would not like him as we'll for it,
that they would think he was putting
on style. His better and wiser half
would reply: "There is not a man
among them all, but loves cleanliness
and would be glad to dress better.
Hard labor has bent their pride, but
has not broken it. They meet together
so seldom, socially, that there is little
incentive for a good appearance. They
need cultivation in this particular"


The first few times that I met with
them, it was wearisome enough. But
this state Of apathy did not last long.
I soon became interested in those
around me. Each person began to
claim an individuality. Natural talent
began to assert itself-rising as by mag
ic from the mist. Soon, too, clean
collar and neck-tie here, and we'll
barbered head there, came into being,
followed by dozen others. Those who
shivered in their seats when the Grange
was organized, began to "speak out In
neeting," and to speak intelligently, II
not exactly in the most perfect Kings
English. Matters of vital interest to
every producer were discussed freely.
The cupidity of the middle man came to
be fully understood, and with that un.
derstanding came the knowledge Why
their years of hard labor had brought
them so little of the worlds goods.


A positive and untaught eloquence
cropped out. Wrongs that had been
borne in silence all their lives suddenly
found utterance, but, by free exchange
Of opinions, clear and practical man.
ner of righting these wrongs found Ut
terance. Faces that had seemed almost
the same as rock to me, as far as any
signs Of culture were concerned, seemed
by degrees to carve themselves into new
shapes, from the new life that was
opened to them. Eyes that were be-
fore expressionless took a depth nd
new beauty from the wider range Of
vision.


Two or three women, who, it seemed
to me, had studied to deform them.
selves, suddenly appeared with long,