Laura Ingalls Wilder, Farm Journalist

by Stephen Hines

As a Farm Woman Thinks (17)

  January 1, 1923

  With the coming of another new year we are all more or less a year older. Just what does it mean to us—this growing older? Are we coming to a cheerful, beautiful old age, or are we being beaten and cowed by the years as they pass?1

  Bruised we must be now and then, but beaten, never, unless we lack courage.

  Not long since a friend said to me, “Growing old is the saddest thing in the world.” Since then I have been thinking about growing old, trying to decide if I thought her right. But I cannot agree with her. True, we lose some things that we prize as time passes and acquire a few that we would prefer to be without. But we may gain infinitely more with the years, than we lose in wisdom, character and the sweetness of life.

  As to the ills of old age, it may be that those of the past were as bad but are dimmed by the distance. Tho old age has gray hair and twinges of rheumatism remember that childhood has freckles, tonsils and the measles.

  The stream of passing years is like a river with people being carried along in the current. Some are swept along, protesting, fighting all the way trying to swim back up the stream, longing for the shores that they have passed, clutching at anything to retard their progress, frightened by the onward rush of the strong current and in danger of being overwhelmed by the waters.

  MOVING WITH FAITH

  Others go with the current freely, trusting themselves to the buoyancy of the waters knowing they will bear them up. And so with very little effort they go floating safely along, gaining more courage and strength from their experience with the waves.

  As New Year after New Year comes, these waves upon the river of life bear us farther along toward the ocean of Eternity, either protesting the inevitable and looking longingly back toward years that are gone, or with calmness and faith facing the future serene in the knowledge that the power behind life’s currents is strong and good.

  And thinking of these things, I have concluded that whether it is sad to grow old depends on how we face it, whether we are looking forward with confidence or backward with regret. Still in any case it takes courage to live long successfully, and they are brave who grow old with smiling faces.

  Hitching Up for Family Team Work

  The Oettings of Wright County, Building on the Sure Foundation of Faith and Industry, Have Made Ozark Farming Pay

  January 15, 1923

  While we are all preaching farmer co-operation and trying so hard to practice it, it is encouraging to find an example of successful, family co-operation on a farm. If the lesson can be learned at home it will be easier to apply its principles in a larger field.

  The Fred Oetting farm, near Mansfield, shows what can be accomplished by a few working together for the common good. It is a pleasant place to visit; the cheerful friendliness of the family makes visitors feel welcome. There is such quiet efficiency indoors and out, no confusion and seemingly no hurry. Still the work goes on with neatness and dispatch, while the condition of the farm and the sleek, contented livestock shows that nothing is neglected.

  This, of course, indicates good management, but I am sure a great deal is due to the good understanding of Mr. and Mrs. Oetting with their sons and daughters, their co-operation in the work and sharing in the profits of the farm.

  From the time the children were old enough to hunt hen’s nests and gather the eggs they had a share in the income from the farm. You may be sure it was a wise old hen who could manage to keep her nest hidden. Mr. Oetting says, “Giving the children a share is good for both them and me, for the more I get, the more they get and so they take an interest in their work.” And with the intelligent, interested help of the whole family Mr. Oetting has made a success.

  Mr. Oetting came to Wright county, Missouri, in 1885 from Iowa where he had worked as a farm hand since coming over from Germany five years before. In Iowa he learned how Americans farm and how to combine these new ways with the old country’s thrift and thoroness. Then in Missouri he found things done in still a different fashion and combined his knowledge with the experience of soil, climate and conditions which the native farmers of the Ozark Hills had incorporated in their ways of farming. He says he made a great many mistakes in the first years but his willingness to learn from others and thus adapt his knowledge to his surroundings saved him many losses he otherwise would have had.

  Mr. Oetting soon learned that no great success could be made by raising corn and wheat enough for his bread, and hogs enough for his meat as so many were content to do at that time. His first departure from the routine was in truck gardening. The truck could be grown, but marketing it was the problem. It had to be hauled to Marshfield and the trip took three days and nights. He nearly killed himself with overwork but he had promised to pay the note, and there was no other way to get the money so he stuck it thru the season, paid the note and then looked around for some easier way of making the farm pay.

  Raising strawberries was the thing he decided to try and this went better. The children, tho small, could pick berries enough to help a great deal without working too hard. Still, hauling the berries to town interfered with the regular farm work and the children grew tired of picking them. So with the consent of everyone concerned, strawberries were abandoned and the Oetting family started a dairy.

  It began with Mrs Oetting taking first prize for butter at the county fair, which led to a contract to deliver butter at 15 cents a pound. But after a few deliveries, the customer calmly informed Mr. Oetting that he did not want any more as he could buy butter for 10 cents a pound. Soon after this a company was formed and a creamery started in Mansfield. That made a great difference in the price of cream and butter.

  Mr. Oetting says that the hardest thing he had to learn in the dairy business was to control his own temper. He had to learn it for he found that cows do not respond with large yields of milk to being beaten with the milk stool or even to rough words, or loud, unusual talking. So he learned to grit his teeth and not kick the cow when things went wrong.

  Becoming convinced that a good, warm barn to protect the cows in cold or rainy weather saves feed and increases the yield of milk, Mr. Oetting built such a barn for 12 cows about eight years ago. A 50 ton silo is inside the barn. He put the Babcock tester in the separator room and proceeded to test out his cows. To his surprise he found that one he had thought his best cow was the poorest of all. Tho the quantity of milk was large, the butterfat content was small. By testing he found that the boarders in his herd were eating up the profits and decided he must have better dairy stock.

  Since then Mr. Oetting has weeded out the poor individuals and gradually acquired purebred Jerseys to take their place. His first purebred was too old for best results but she gave him some excellent calves.

  Three years ago he bought four registered Jersey heifers and tho the price paid was from $70 to $200 each he feels well repaid, for with his system of testing and culling he is building up a herd of which to be proud. One cow produces 54 pounds of butterfat in 30 days off pasture only; another gives 47 to 48 pound of milk at a milking; another gives 8,000 pound of milk a year and still another gives 11,000 pound of milk a year.

  The separator room is in the barn and each cow’s milk is weighed and tested carefully. There are still a few grade cows in the herd, but in a couple of years there will be only purebreds.

  Mr. Oetting’s experience has shown him that to get the greatest returns from his cows he must make a good use of the skim milk and so with the dairy business he combines hog and poultry raising. Four years ago he shipped the first purebred Poland China hog into Wright county from the Springfield fair. This hog soon died and the next venture in the purebred hog line was with Duroc Jerseys, which breed still is handled.

  It is interesting to look over Mr. Oetting’s farm account books and note the amounts he has received from his cows and hogs during the past few years. From $112.63 for cream from seven cows in 1911, his receipts went as high as $1,413.68 in 1919. In 1921, with the lower pr
ices for produce the receipts were $986.76.

  The amount received for cream during the last eight years is $6,925.71; for cattle during the last six years $2,346.14 and for hogs $4,047.20. Besides this there has been an average of from $3 to $4 a week from the poultry.

  Mrs. Oetting and the children raised the poultry and for their help the children’s share was 1 cent a dozen for all eggs sold. This amounted to quite a little when two cases of eggs a week were sold.

  As soon as they were old enough to milk the share allowed each child for helping care for the cows and milking was 10 per cent of the cream check. The girls were not expected to do this work, but one of them took her father’s place at milking time during his absence for the short term at the Missouri College of Agriculture. On his return she asked to be allowed to continue and receives 10 per cent of the cream check for herself.

  The two older boys now at home have been taken into partnership in the hog business and at present the three large sows are making a yearly profit of $100 each, besides furnishing the family’s meat.

  The Oetting success has not been made without the practice of intelligent economy. The home-made dry-house in the orchard saves a great deal of fruit that otherwise would go to waste and there is a good cellar for the storage of fruit and vegetables for winter use. It is built above ground, has double walls of oak lumber with sawdust between and a space between the ceiling and the roof to pack sawdust, hay or leaves. The cellar never freezes but is kept quite cold by an arrangement of two ventilator shafts. They are placed side by side one being about 20 inches lower than the other. The higher opening draws off the warm air, while cold air comes in thru the lower to take its place.

  The waste of feed from keeping poor cows was eliminated from the dairy and the saving and increased profits made by building the barn were enough, in six years, to build the comfortable farm house.

  The building of the silo is a story in itself. One of that size would have cost Mr. Oetting $150. He hadn’t the money to invest and so made his silo after a plan of his own. He built the concrete base with walls 2 feet high and the silo itself, resting on these walls, was made of matched flooring, 16 feet long, making the silo 18 feet high. It is 14 feet in diameter.

  The hoops binding the flooring were made of siding put on the thick edge up. Over that another hoop of the same size was placed, breaking joints with the first and with the thick edge down, making the completed hoop an inch thick. The hoops were well nailed to the body of the silo. Tho built eight years ago, the silo is in perfect condition. Its entire cost was only 40 dollars. Thus these things we should remember—co-operation, like charity, begins at home, and bringing up the family “on it” means clearer sailing for agriculture in the days to come.

  As a Farm Woman Thinks (18)

  April 1, 1923

  Just how much does home mean to you? Of what do you think when it is mentioned? Is it only the four walls and the roof within the shelter of which you eat and sleep or does it include the locality also—the shade trees around the house, the forest trees in the woodlot, the little brook that wanders thru the pasture where the grass grows lush and green in spring and summer, the hills and valleys, and the level fields of the farm lands over which the sun rises to greet you in the early morning and sets in glorious waves of color as you go about your evening tasks?

  When I think of home, the picture includes all these things and even the farm animals that are our daily care, our vexation and our pride and so I know I can never be a “Tin Can Tourist,” for a shelter on wheels moving from place to place cannot furnish all I require of a home.

  But if home to you is only a shelter, then you might be happy with this modern Gipsy band. According to World Traveler magazine, the “Tin Can Tourists of the World” was organized in 1917 at Tampa, Fla., of a few tourists who made traveling in motor cars their principal business. In 1922 there were 200,000 of them.

  These people live in their motor cars and tents, spending the summer in the north and going south for the winter.

  NO RESPONSIBILITY OR CARE

  “Labor—physical or mental—if it is not taboo in their creed, is reduced to the smallest possible proportions, likewise it follows that expenditures are put upon their most economical basis. Care, responsibility, and ambition— these things have no longer a place in the life of a Tin Can Tourist,” says Norman Borchardt.

  At first these tourists went back to farms and work when winter was over but now at least 30 per cent of them live in their cars the year around and the number who do this is increasing fast.

  There are families of children being raised in these traveling homes, and, since reading the article, I have been wondering just what this all will mean to us in the future.

  A DANGER TO CUSTOMS

  It seems to me that such a class of careless, unresponsible drifters will be a danger to our customs and our country, for where the home is eliminated an important part of our social structure is missing. No shelter on four wheels, continually on the move, can really be a home, tho children reared to know no better would not understand the difference.

  I am jealous for the farm home and fearful of anything that seems to threaten it so I hope we will do what we can to counteract the effect of so many choosing a homeless life by letting our love of home grow into a strong and beautiful sentiment, embracing the whole of the farm lands and all that goes to make life possible and pleasant upon them.

  THE LOVE OF HOME

  We can teach this love of home to the children and it will help to hold them steady when their time comes. They may need such help more than you think, for the greater number of the “Tin Can Tourists” are from farms of the Middle West.

  As a Farm Woman Thinks (19)

  April 15, 1923

  With the birds singing, the trees budding and, “the green grass growing all around,” as we used to sing in school, who would not love the country and prefer farm life to any other? We are glad that so much time can be spent out-of-doors while going about the regular affairs of the day, thus combining pleasure with work and adding good health for full measure.

  I have a favorite way of doing this, for I have never lost my childhood’s delight in going after the cows. I still slip away from other things for the sake of the walk thru the pasture, down along the creek and over the hill to the farthest corner where cows are usually found as you can all bear witness.

  Bringing home the cows is the childhood memory that oftenest recurs to me. I think it is because the mind of a child is peculiarly attuned to the beauties of nature and the voices of the wildwood and the impression they made was deep.

  “To him who, in the love of nature, holds community with her visible forms, she speaks a various language,”2 you know. And I am sure old Mother Nature talked to me in all the languages she knew when, as a child, I loitered along the cow paths, forgetful of milking time and stern parents waiting, while I gathered wild flowers, waded in the creek, watched the squirrels hastening to their homes in the tree tops and listened to the sleepy twitterings of birds.

  Wild strawberries grew in grassy nooks in spring time. The wild plum thickets, along the creek yielded their fruit about the time of the first frost, in the fall. And all the time between there were ever varied, never failing delights along the cow paths of the old pasture. Many a time, instead of me finding the cows they, on their journey home unurged, found me and took me home with them.

  The voices of nature do not speak so plainly to us as we grow older, but I think it is because, in our busy lives, we neglect her until we grow out of sympathy. Our ears and eyes grow dull and beauties are lost to us that we should still enjoy.

  Life was not intended to be simply a round of work, no matter how interesting and important that work may be. A moment’s pause to watch the glory of a sunrise or a sunset is soul satisfying, while a bird’s song will set the steps to music all day long.

  As a Farm Woman Thinks (20)

  May 15, 1923

  “The days are just f
illed with little things and I am so tired doing them,” wailed a friend recently. Since then I have been thinking about little things, or these things we are in the habit of thinking small, altho I am sure our judgment is often at fault when we do so.

  “FEEDING THE WORLD”

  Working in the garden, taking care of the poultry, calves and lambs, milking the cows, and all the other chores that fall to the lot of farm women may each appear small in itself, but the results go a long way in helping to “feed the world.” Sometimes I try to imagine the people who will eat the eggs I gather or the butter from my cream and wear the clothes made from the wool of the lambs I help to raise.

  Doing up cut fingers, kissing hurt places and singing bedtime songs are small things by themselves but they will inculcate a love for home and family that will last thru life and help to keep America a land of homes.

  Putting up the school lunch for the children or cooking a good meal for the family may seem a very insignificant task as compared with giving a lecture, writing a book or doing other things that have a larger audience, but I doubt very much if in the ultimate reckoning they will count as much.

  If, when cooking, you will think of yourself as the chemist that you are, combining different ingredients into a food that will properly nourish human bodies, then the work takes on a dignity and interest. And surely a family well nourished with healthful food so that the boys and girls grow up strong and beautiful while their elders reach a hale old age, is no small thing.

  It belittles us to think of our daily tasks as small things and, if we continue to do so, it will in time make us small. It will narrow our horizon and make of our work just drudgery.

  There are so many little things that are really very great and when we learn to look beyond the insignificant appearing acts themselves to their far reaching consequences we will, “despise not the day of small things.” We will feel an added dignity and poise from the fact that our everyday round of duties is as important as any other part of the work of the world.