Laura Ingalls Wilder, Farm Journalist

by Stephen Hines

  When blackberries came on, chiggers were ripe also and there is nothing a chigger enjoys so much as feasting on a “foreigner.” The blackberry patches are their home and we made many a chigger happy that season. We gathered the berries by bucketsfull; we filled the pans and pots and all the available dishes in the house, then hastily we bathed in strong soapsuds and applied remedies to the worst bitten spots. Then I put up the berries and cleared the decks for the next day’s picking, for gather them we would no matter how the chiggers bit.

  I was thinking of these experiences while the bluejays screamed at me in the berry patch—tame berries now. We never pick the wild ones these days because there are large tame ones in plenty. The apple trees that were little switches when we picked the wild fruit have supplied us with carloads of apples. Even the chiggers never bother us any more.

  We are so accustomed to an abundance of fruit that we do not appreciate the fine cultivated sorts as we did the wild kinds that we gathered at the cost of so much labor and discomfort.

  There is a moral here somewhere too, I am sure, and again I will leave it for you to discover.

  The Farm Home (27)

  July 20, 1920

  Coming in from a successful round with the hay fork, helping The Man Of The Place to put a load of hay in the barn, I sat down to read a letter from the daughter, now Rose Wilder Lane, who is traveling in Europe, and this is what I read: “The farmers are cutting their hay already, usually women helping in the fields. I am one traveler in Europe who does not ‘throw a fit’ at sight of a woman helping in the hay.”

  She has seen it many a time at home, you know, besides she had long ago read, “Maud Muller on a summer’s day raked the meadow sweet with hay” so she was well used to the idea both practically and with a glamor of romance.

  It is rather amusing, is it not, that persons from this country, where farm women help so much with the out-of-doors work, should be so shocked at the sight of European women doing the same thing? To be sure they work in different ways but their methods of farming are so much different that naturally they would. After all it is only the old custom of time immemorial, the woman helping her man.

  It is as easy to criticize other countries than ours as it is to find fault with other people than ourselves and both usually come from a lack of understanding. If we are looking for defects we are nearly certain to find them, while if we observe others with the purpose of learning and adapting for ourselves what is good in their lives and ways we gain much.

  Just to illustrate my meaning: One soldier boy came home from France and, when asked about the ways of farming there, told of the antiquated, awkward machinery and slow, old-fashioned methods. Another boy back from the same place, remembered and told of the way in which the farmers raised much more to the acre than we do here. While we are in the lead with our machinery and ways of working, we could learn from them in the care of our soil and the growing of crops. One boy had seen the defects, while the other learned the helpful lessons.

  There seems to be more beauty in the surroundings of country life in Europe than with us and here again we might learn, not to copy, but to adapt the idea to our circumstances.

  Let me read you a little more from Rose’s letter, written on the train as she was traveling from Paris to Geneva, Switzerland: “It’s a very warm, sunny day and the country is lovely. Tilled fields look like broad ribbons on the hillsides. I don’t know why, but the farmers cultivate all their land in long, narrow strips; one of oats, one of potatoes, perhaps; one of alfalfa, one of purple clover. The poppies are thick in the oats and wheat and they are the reddest things you ever saw and then there are strips perfectly yellow with wild mustard. So with the red-tiled roofs of the villages and white church spires and leafy green trees, there is lots of color in the landscape.”

  We would not cultivate our fields in their way for the sake of the color scheme but our farms might be planned to bring out and show their natural beauties. A determination that the beauty, as well as the utility, of our surroundings shall be considered will do wonders. It will prevent the new barn being placed where it will ruin the view from the kitchen window when it might as well be a little to one side. There are more inspiring views than a barn for a tired woman in a hot kitchen.

  A craving for and delight in beauty is natural with us all, because it is necessary for our right development, for our well being in every way, mentally, spiritually and physically. Beautiful sounds in music have been known to cure illness; beauty for the eyes to feast upon is a help in the cure of mental disorders and nothing so lifts our souls Heavenward as some beautiful scene in nature.

  From the spots on a butterfly’s wing to the snows on a mountain top; from the still growth of a wild flower to the rush of a mountain torrent, every sight of nature is beautiful. From the sweet song of a bird to the roar of the mighty winds of a hurricane, every sound in nature has the beauties of harmony.

  We Visit Arabia

  August 5, 1920

  Our ideas of Arabia have always been rather vague. It has been to us a land of romance, where swift camels and wild horsemen on fleet Arab steeds journey across the desert sands from oasis to green oasis. But in this land of mirage and mystery there has risen a new spirit and a new nation of Arabia is taking its place in the world.

  A very interesting story of the country is told by Frederick Simpich in the Geographic Magazine. It seems that for several years a group of Arab students in Paris have been agitating for Arab independence and the idea was warmly supported by the more advanced Arabs everywhere. The war gave them their chance and Mohammedan troops joined the British under General Allenby fighting both Turkey and Germany, which was surprising as the Sultan of Turkey was the head of the Moslem faith. This joining with Christians to fight Turkey was brought about by the great Mohammedan leader Agha Khan who sent out a manifesto declaring that Turkey had forfeited its leadership of Mohammedans by becoming a tool of Germany. So Arabs joined the British soldiers in the march on Jerusalem, and Mohammedan and Christian fought side by side against the Turk in the last crusade which has freed Jerusalem from the infidel.

  From Mecca, the holy city of Mohammedans, the Grand Shereef sent out a telegram to the leaders of Christian nations asking that “Arabia be admitted to the family of nations.” This telegram opened that forbidden city so that Christians are safe there where formerly they were killed simply because they were Christians; it lets in the missionaries and the traders from Western nations and may forever prevent a “holy war” which has been a fear in the Christian world. British influence, which is very strong in Arabia, has brought this about.

  The gateway to Mecca is the port of Jidda, squatting on its treeless hills at whose base rolls the oily waves of the Red Sea that once engulfed the hosts of Pharaoh. Jidda is further noted for having what is claimed to be the tomb of Eve. “Adam and Eve were big people, the Arabs say. Eve was so tall she could hold a grown lion in her lap and stroke it as we stroke a kitten.” Needless to say the tomb is long. It is shaped like an airship hangar and made of stone.

  Mecca is 45 miles east of Jidda. It is of great importance in both the political and religious worlds but it is small and ugly. Its chief business is living off travelers for it has the greatest tourist traffic of any city in the world, being the place of pilgrimage for Mohammedans, who are 12 per cent of all the people in the world.

  The origin of the Arabian race is lost in the mists of antiquity but the Arabs were a nation with a king of their own long, long before the birth of Christ. Arabia once ruled from India to the Atlantic and its schools of science were world famous. Schools of healing were established in Bagdad and botany was studied as a branch of medicine. Many of our medicines and their use were known to the Arabs of that far away time and we still use many terms and signs taken from the Arab language. But education as we understand it is almost unknown in Arabia today. Learning is mostly confined to the classics of their literature and the Koran is learned by heart. There are no schools of
any kind in small towns.

  Arabs are divided by their manner of life into two classes, the Al Bedoo or Bedouins which means the Dwellers in the Open Land, and Al Hadr, or Dwellers in Fixed Localities. The Bedouins are the desert roamers and are better known than those who are settled in one place. Most of Arabia even outside the deserts is so dry that it is suitable only for grazing and sometimes, from lack of moisture, even the scanty grass will not grow so that the Bedouin Arab must move his family and his herds from place to place. Living this free, roving life out in “The Open Land” has made the Bedouin Arab bold and defiant and quick to fight. He is tall and graceful, dark complexioned and very handsome, being usually strong and healthy and of clean and simple habits.

  The aristocracy of Arabia is found in the 80 per cent of the people who live in towns and villages. These families trace their ancestry back thru many generations. There is some admixture of African blood in the race which comes from intermarrying with freed slaves who have been brought from Africa. The Arabian people are very bright mentally, being the equal of any race in that respect.

  The most important provinces of Arabia lie along the Red Sea coast. The valleys of these provinces produce coffee, figs, spices, hides and dates, but dates are the only crop of any importance. Grapes are grown, but the Mohammedan religion forbids drinking so no wine is made. The methods of farming are so primitive that they barely furnish food for the people.

  The finest horses in the world are in Arabia and their pedigrees can be traced back to the Fifth Century. The Arabs value their horses more than their camels, but camels are the more useful, being worked and sheared for the camels’ hair and when old killed and eaten. Goats and sheep are numerous but there are only a few cattle.

  Wild animals are scarce. There are some tigers, panthers, wolves, foxes, hyenas and a few monkeys.

  There are a few skilled workers in Arabia and tools are of the most primitive kind. The buildings are of mud or brick. The country has no factories and a few years ago 75 per cent of all cotton goods were shipped from the United States. At present, because of the war, Japanese and Indian cottons have taken their place. Kerosene, sewing machines, phonographs and cheap watches are imported from the United States.

  In turn we buy many things from Arabia, chief among which is dates. When we open a package of dates in our kitchen we also open our minds to all the romance and mystery of the Orient, if we remember that the dates were picked and packed by dark skinned Arab women in the valleys by the Red Sea.

  And by opening their country to us they have really said, “Come, let’s get acquainted! Let’s exchange ideas as well as goods and learn from one another.”

  The Farm Home (28)

  August 20, 1920

  The whole world was a deep, dark blue, for I had waked with a grouch that morning. While blue is without doubt a heavenly color it is better in skies than in one’s mind, for when the blues descend upon a poor mortal on earth, life seems far from being worth the living.

  I didn’t want to help with the chores; I hated to get breakfast and the prospect of doing up the morning’s work afterward was positively revolting. Beginning the usual round of duties—under protest, I had a great many thoughts about work and none of them was complimentary to the habit. But presently my mind took a wider range and became less personal as applied to the day just beginning.

  First, I remembered the old, old labor law, “Six days thou shalt labour and do all thy work: But the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God: In it thou shalt not do any work.”1

  It used to be impressed upon us as most important that we must rest on the seventh day. This doesn’t seem to be necessary any longer. We may not, “Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy,”2 but we’ll not forget to stop working. With our present attitude toward work, the emphasis should be put upon, “Six days thou shalt labor,” and if we stick it out to work the six days, we will rest on the seventh without any urging. Given half a chance, we will take Saturday off also and any other day or part of a day we can manage to sneak, besides which the length of a work day is shrinking and shrinking for everyone except farmers, and they are hoping to shorten theirs.

  But really the old way was best, for it takes about six days of work to give just the right flavor to a day off. As I thought of all these things, insensibly my ideas about work changed. I remembered the time of enforced idleness when recovering from an illness and how I longed to be busily at work again. Also I recollected a week of vacation that I once devoted to pleasure during which I suffered more than the weariness of working while I had none of its satisfaction. For there is a great satisfaction in work well done, the thrill of success in a task accomplished.

  I got the thrill at the moment that my mind reached the climax. The separator was washed. It is a job that I especially dislike, but while my mind had been busy far afield my hands had performed their accustomed task with none of the usual sense of unpleasantness, showing that after all it is not so much the work we do with our bodies that makes us tired and dissatisfied as the work we do with our minds.

  We have been, for so long, thinking of labor as a curse upon man that, because of our persistently thinking of it as such, it has very nearly become so.

  There always has been a great deal of misplaced pity for Adam because of his sentence to hard labor for life when really that was all that saved him after he was deported from paradise and it is the only thing that has kept his descendents as safe and sane even as they are.

  There is nothing wrong with God’s plan that man should earn his bread by the sweat of his brow. The wrong is in our own position only. In trying to shirk while we “let George do it,” we bring upon ourselves our own punishment, for in the attitude we take toward our work we make of it a burden instead of the blessing it might be.

  Work is like other good things in that it should not be indulged in to excess, but a reasonable amount that is of value to one’s self and to the world, as is any honest, well-directed labor, need never descend into drudgery.

  It is a tonic and an inspiration and a reward unto itself. For the sweetness of life lies in usefulness like honey deep in the heart of clover bloom.

  Now We Visit Bohemia (1)

  September 5, 1920

  When you hear the word Bohemian what first comes to your mind? I’ll venture to say it is some tale you have heard of what is called Bohemian life in New York, which is supposed to be the very free and freakish life led by artists and poets where ordinary conventions are disregarded. Or perhaps you remember hearing that Gipsies are Bohemians and are uncertain whether there is a country of that name. If you followed the news of the Great War closely you will know that Bohemian people were compelled, by Austria, to go into its armies and that these soldiers deserted to the allies whenever there was a chance to do so.

  I wish I could show you the picture postcards that Rose Wilder Lane has sent me from Prague, the capital of Bohemia. I’ll share them with you anyway.

  After seeing these pictures of wonderful, old places, the word Bohemian will always bring to mind a brave people who have kept their national ideals, culture and language thru 500 years of oppression by a brutal, conquering nation.

  First there is the view of Prague as we approach it. On a high hill is the old city built by Queen Libussa in the year 600. The entire big hill is surrounded by great walls and on its highest point is the great castle and cathedral, in one building, built by the old Bohemian kings. The castle was taken by the Austrians under their Hapsburg rulers, but now since the World War, which freed Bohemia, it is again occupied by a Bohemian ruler, President Masaryk.

  The original style of the castle-cathedral building was pure Gothic and the graceful heavenward pointing effect of the towers is very beautiful. One ugly square tower was added by the Hapsburgs and somewhat spoils the effect of the building but since the Bohemians control their own country again this is being changed to Gothic also.

  Then there is the picture of the city clustering at the foot of
the castle hill. Its buildings are all of stone with roofs of hand-baked tile and ornamented with carvings and mosaic work. They are the most wonderful colors of soft browns and yellows and grays with tints of red and shadows of blue.

  A river runs thru the town with a beautiful stone bridge at every street crossing. The banks of the river are walled and gardened and there are many canals opening from it that are used as streets where all movement is by boat.

  Spanning the river to Old Town is Charles Bridge built in the days of the old Bohemian kings. At each end of this bridge is a square stone tower with an arched opening thru which the street runs to the bridge. The towers, like all the stone buildings in the city, are ornamented with carvings and mosaic work.

  In the city are many beautiful churches and public buildings made more beautiful by wonderful carvings of human figures and of warriors on horseback that show against the sky.

  The National theater is on the river bank as is also a large old monastery. The old powder tower now about in the center of the city, used to stand over the inner end of the drawbridge that led to the city gate. Inside the archway are still the remnants of the portecullis that used to be let down over the entrance when the place was to be defended in the old wars. The moat, across which the drawbridge reached when let down, is now filled in and used as a street.

  Adjoining the powder tower is the city’s community meeting place. It has a splendid restaurant, big auditorium, dance halls and a little theater. Austria, the conqueror, gave Prague money to build a modern sanitary system but the city used it instead to build this community house. It was part of the effort to keep alive Bohemian culture and national spirit thru the 500 years of subjection to Austria when even the Bohemian language could be spoken only in secret.