Laura Ingalls Wilder, Farm Journalist

by Stephen Hines

  My friend who plays the piano so beautifully was a fair performer years ago, but has improved greatly as time went by. She spends several hours every day at the instrument practicing. “I have to practice,” she says, “or I shall lose my power of execution,” and because she does practice to keep what she already has, she goes on improving from day to day and from year to year.

  In contrast to this, is the other friend who used to sing so much and who had such a lovely voice. She hardly ever sings now and told me the other day that she thought she was losing her voice. She also said that she was so busy she had no time to practice.

  There is also the woman who “completed her education” some years ago. She thought there was no need for further effort along that line and that she had her education for all time, so she settled down to the house work and the poultry. She has read very little of anything that would help her to keep abreast of the times and does not now give the impression of being an educated, cultured person but quite the reverse. No doubt she has forgotten more than I ever knew, but the point is that she has lost it. Refusing to go ahead, she has dropped back.

  Even a housekeeper who is a good housekeeper and stays such becomes a better and more capable one from the practice and exercise of her art and profession. If she does not, you may be sure she is slipping back and instead of being proficient will soon be careless, a woman who will say, “I used to be a good housekeeper, but—”

  The same rule applies to character. Our friends and neighbors are either better friends and neighbors today than they were several years ago or they are not so good. We are either broader minded, more tolerant and sympathetic now than we used to be or the reverse is true. The person who is selfish, or mean or miserly—does he not grow more so as the years pass, unless he makes a special effort to go in the other direction?

  Our graces are either growing or shrinking. It seems to be a law of nature that everything and every person must move along. There is no standing still. The moment that growth stops, decay sets in.

  One of the greatest safeguards against becoming old is to keep growing mentally, you know.

  If we do not strive to gain we lose what we already have, for just so surely as “practice makes perfect,” the want of practice or the lack of exercise of talents and knowledge makes for the opposite condition.

  We must advance or we slip back and few of us are bright enough to turn a slip to good account as did the school boy of long ago. This particular boy was late at school one icy winter morning and the teacher reproved him and asked the reason for his tardiness.

  “I started early enough,” answered Tom, “but it was so slippery that every time I took one step ahead I slipped back two steps.”

  There was a hush of astonishment and then the teacher asked, “But if that is true, how did you ever get here?”

  “Oh, that’s easy,” replied Tom. “I was afraid I was going to be late and so I just turned around and came backwards.”

  Getting the Worst of It

  March 5, 1917

  Whenever two or three women were gathered together during the winter, sooner or later someone would ask, “Are your hens laying?”

  In one such small crowd where town and country women mingled, I was very much interested and also amused by a conversation which took place between a country woman and a woman who lives in town. Of course the inevitable question was asked and the country woman answered that her hens were doing their duty. Then a town woman inquired, “What are you getting for eggs?”

  “Thirty cents,” replied the country woman.

  “They make us pay 33 cents when we get them at the store,” said the town woman. “Why can’t you bring me my eggs?”

  “I can,” said the country woman. “How many would you want?” “Oh! Bring me three dozen. Might as well save 9 cents,” replied the town woman.

  Perhaps I imagined it, but I certainly thought that the country woman’s left eyelid dropped for an instant as she looked up at me, but her glance was so quick I could not be sure. Her reply was quick too.

  “Why! I thought you were offering me the 3 cents a dozen more,” she said. The town woman disclaimed this in a tone of surprise and the country woman asked, “How about dividing it?”

  “Oh! I wouldn’t bother with it for that,” said the other in a tone of disgust.

  “It is less bother for me to deliver our eggs all in one place. We sell them by the case, you know,” said the country woman and again I thought her eyelid dropped as she glanced once more in my direction. I wish I could be sure about that wink. It would make such a difference in the conclusions one might draw.

  There I said to myself, is the producer and consumer question in a nutshell, with the real reason why that terrible bogey, “the middleman” gets such a chance at us. Too much bother, unwillingness to co-operate and compromise, or in other words just plain selfishness is the cause at the bottom of all the trouble. The consumer wants something done about the high cost of living, but he wants all the benefit to accrue to himself. The producer wants something done to lessen the difference between the price at which he sells and what the consumer pays but he also desires what is thus saved to come his way, while the speculator standing between smiles to himself, secure in his position because of this weakness of human nature. For the rest of us, the punishment fits the crime and I am inclined to think that we get no more than we deserve.

  After all, it is thru some fault or weakness of our own that the most of the evils of life come to us. It is as if our strength of character and virtues formed a guard around us, but a fault or weakness of character makes an opening thru which our punishment comes.

  There was once a small boy with a quarrelsome disposition and a great unwillingness to obey the rules his mother made. At school he would seek a quarrel and get the thrashing he deserved; then he would come home, disobey his mother and be punished; then he would sit down and wail. “O-o-h! I always get the worst of it. I don’t know why, but at school and everywhere I always get the worst of it!”

  It was tragic for the child, but to me there was always something irresistibly comic about it also, because it reminded me so strongly of grownups I knew. We have all seen such persons. There are those who persistently disobey the laws of health, which being nature’s laws are also God’s laws, and then when ill health comes, wonder why they should be compelled to suffer.

  Others by their bad temper and exacting dispositions estrange their relatives and repel friendly advances. Then they bewail the fact that their friends are so few.

  From these, clear on down to the man who carelessly picked up the lid lifter from the hot part of the stove and then turned impatiently upon his wife exclaiming, “Why didn’t you tell me that was hot!” we are all alike eager to lay upon some one else the blame for the troubles that come from our own faults and all remind me of the boy who wailed, “I always get the worst of it! I don’t know why but—I always get the worst of it!”

  Buy Goods Worth the Price

  April 5, 1917

  We were speaking of a woman in the community who was ignoring the conventions, thereby bringing joy to the gossips’ hearts and a shock to those persons who always think first of what people will say.

  “Well of course,” said my friend; “it is all perfectly harmless and she has the satisfaction of doing as she pleases, but I’m wondering whether it’s worth the price.”

  There are very few things in this world that we may not have if we are willing to pay their price. You know it has been said that “Every man has his price,” which may or may not be true, but without doubt nearly every other thing has its market value and we may make our choice and buy. We must pay, in one way or another, a greater or less amount for everything we have and sometimes we show very poor judgment in our purchases.

  Many a woman and girl has paid her good eyesight for a few pieces of hand embroidery or her peace of mind for a new gown, while many a man’s good health or good standing in the community, goes to pay for h
is indulgence in a bad habit.

  Is there something in life that you want very much? Then pay the price and take it, but never expect to have a charge account and avoid paying the bills. Life is a good collector and sooner or later the account must be paid in full. I know a woman who is paying a debt of this kind on the installment plan. She wanted to be a musician and so she turned her children into the streets and neglected her husband that she might have more time for practice. She already has paid too high a price for her musical education and the worst of it is that she will keep on paying the installments for the rest of her life.

  There are persons who act as if the things life has to offer were on sale at an auction and if some one else is likely to secure an article, they will raise their bid without regard to the value of the goods on sale. Indeed the most of us are like people at an auction sale in this respect, that during the excitement and rivalry we buy many things we do not need, nor want, nor know just what to do with, and we pay for them much more than they are worth.

  Is it your ambition to outshine your neighbors and friends? Then you are the foolish bidder at the auction sale, raising your bid just because someone else is bidding. I knew a man like this. He owned a motor car of the same size and make as those his friends had but decided he would buy a larger, more powerful, and much more expensive one. His old car was good enough for all his needs, he said, but he was going to have a car that would be “better than the other fellow’s.” I suppose he figured the cost of the car in dollars and cents, but the real price he paid was his integrity and business honor, and for a bonus, an old and valued friendship. He had very poor judgment as a buyer in my opinion.

  Do you desire an education? No matter who pays the money for this, you cannot have it unless you also pay with long hours of study and application.

  Do you wish to be popular? Then there is a chance to buy the real lasting thing which means to be well thought of and beloved by people worth while, or the shoddy imitation, a cheap popularity of the “hail fellow well met” sort depending mostly on one’s ability to tell a good story and the amount one is able to spend on so called pleasure. As always, the best is the cheapest, for poor goods are dear at any price. The square dealing, the kindness and consideration for others, the helpfulness and love which we must spend if we wish lasting esteem enrich us in the paying besides bringing us what we so much desired. On the other hand, in buying a cheap popularity, people sometimes bankrupt themselves in things, the value of which cannot be estimated. If popular favor must be paid for by the surrender of principles or loss in character, then indeed the price is too high.

  Does “Haste Make Waste”?

  April 20, 1917

  A few days ago, with several others, I attended the meeting of a woman’s club in a neighboring town. We went in a motor car, taking less than an hour for the trip on which we used to spend 3 hours, before the days of motor cars, but we did not arrive at the time appointed nor were we the latest comers by any means. Nearly everyone was late and all seemed in a hurry. We hurried to the meeting and were late. We hurried thru the proceedings; we hurried in our friendly exchanges of conversation; we hurried away and we hurried all the way home where we arrived late as usual.

  What became of the time the motor car saved us? Why was everyone late and in a hurry? I used to drive leisurely over to this town with a team, spend a pleasant afternoon and reach home not much later than I did this time and all with a sense of there being time enough, instead of a feeling of rush and hurry. We have so many machines and so many helps, in one way and another, to save time and yet I wonder what we do with the time we save. Nobody seems to have any!

  Neighbors and friends go less often to spend the day. Instead they say, “We have been planning for so long to come and see you, but we haven’t had time,” and the answer will be: “Everyone makes the same complaint. People don’t go visiting like they used to. There seems to be no time for anything.” I have heard this conversation, with only slight variations, so many times that I should feel perfectly safe to wager that I should hear it any time the subject might be started. We must have all the time there is the same as always. We should have more, considering the time saving, modern conveniences. What becomes of the time we save?

  The reason oftenest given for not joining the Ruralist Poultry Club, by the girls I tried to interest was that they hadn’t the time. Their school duties, their music and the like kept them so busy that there was no time for a new interest. There was one pleasing exception. Lulu was hesitating about sending in her application for membership and when I inquired if she lacked time for it I found that she was already giving all the time necessary to the care of the poultry and that she had an incubator of her very own already at work hatching eggs for a purebred flock.

  Then I inquired if the record keeping was what made her hesitate and learned that she already kept most minute records of expense and income and of every egg laid. Not only this, but she keeps her father’s farm accounts and in good condition, too. Here was a girl with time and ability enough to have a business of her own and to keep track of it and of her father’s also. I think it was really shyness that made Lulu hesitate about joining the poultry club. She did send in her application at last and it was too late, but if the girls in the club do not hustle I feel sure this outsider will beat them, except for the prizes.

  If there were any way possible of adding a few hours to the day they could be used handily right now, for this is surely the farm woman’s busy time. The gardens, the spring sewing, the housecleaning, more or less, caused by the change from cold to warm weather and all the young things on the place to be cared for call for agility, to say the least, if a day’s work is to be done in a day.

  Some people complain that farm life is monotonous. They surely never had experience of the infinite variety of tasks that come to a farm woman in the merry springtime! Why! the ingenuity, the quickness of brain and the sleight of hand required to prevent a young calf from spilling its bucket of milk at feeding time and the patience necessary to teach it to drink is a liberal education in itself, while the vagaries of a foolish sitting hen will relieve the monotony for the entire day.

  So much of the work of the farm that we take as a matter of course is strange and interesting to a person who is not used to it. A man who has been in business in town for over 20 years is moving his family to the farm this spring and expects to be a farmer. The old order, you see, is reversed. Instead of retiring from a farm to town he is retiring from town to a farm. I was really surprised, in talking with him, to find how many things there are for a beginner to learn.

  Each in His Place

  May 5, 1917

  I know a farm woman who is wearing overalls this spring at her outdoor work. “They wear overalls in the munition factories,” she says. “Isn’t the raising of food to preserve life as important as the making of shells to take it? Why should I be hampered in my work and tormented by skirts flapping around my ankles when I am out in the field?”

  Why, indeed! When every bit of one’s time and strength can be put to such good use in work that is so very necessary to the world, it seems foolish to spend any of it uselessly. The simpler and more suitably we can dress the better. This year of our Lord 1917 is no time for giving much attention to frills, and when we remember the tight skirts of recent date, we surely cannot accuse overalls of being immodest. As the Man of the Place said to me, “Just hunt up a couple of your old tight skirts and sew them together, then you’ll have a pair of overalls.”

  We all feel that we would like to do something to help our country in these perilous times, however much we may regret the necessity. We may do this; may do our share of the work and bear our share of the burden of the world without leaving our homes or exposing ourselves to new and fearful dangers. Not that country women would hesitate to take these risks if it were necessary, but it is natural to be glad that we may help as much or more in our own accustomed ways. Women in the towns and cities can be spared to wo
rk in the factories, to make munitions, to join the navy or to go as nurses with the Red Cross, but what would happen to the world if the farm women should desert their present posts?

  Our work is not spectacular and in doing it faithfully we shall win no war medals or decorations, but it is absolutely indispensable. We may feed the field hands, care for the poultry and work in the garden with the full assurance that we are doing as much for our country as any other person. Here in the Hills we have helped plant the potatoes and corn, we help with the milking and feed the calves and hogs and we will be found on the line just behind the trenches, “fighting for Uncle Sam,” as I heard one woman say, and every extra dozen eggs, pound of meat or bushel of vegetables we raise will help beat back the enemy, hunger.

  Some women were talking over an entertainment that had been planned for the crowd. They seemed to be taking only a half-hearted interest in the subject and finally one of them exclaimed: “I can’t feel right about doing this! It does not seem to me that this is a time to be feasting and frolicking. I do not think we ought to eat an unnecessary mouthful and sometimes I feel like choking on the food I do eat when I think of the people in the world who are hungry and starving.”

  I fully agreed with her. When there seems not to be enough food to go around, we ought to be as careful and economical with it as possible. If it is true, as we are told, that most of us have the bad habit of overeating, now is a good time to break that habit.

  I am sure that we farm women will not be found second to those of any other occupation in willingness to bear our part in effort or in self denial, and if, as experts say, “armies travel on their stomachs,” we are doing our best to enable the soldiers of the United States to go as far as those of any other nation.