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I've often wondered if the colleges that teach farmin' en sich, ever tackled en solved that heavy problem: 'Is hit better to fret en worry a cow by pennin' her up in a clean box-stall, er allowin' her in cheerful contentment to go off by herse'f en have her calf in the fringe of a mudhole at the far away corner?" Davy was looking about as he listened.
My sister Polly was 'sponsible more 'n any one, I guess, an' the only one o' the whole lot that ever gin me a decent word. Small farmin' ain't cal'lated to fetch out the best traits of human nature an' keep 'em out an' it seems to me sometimes that when the old man wa'n't cuffin' my ears he was lickin' me with a rawhide or a strap.
"'The people won't stand it they can't, says I. 'You'll be drownin' the miller. They'll leave you. "'It won't do 'em any good, says he. 'Bill an' Eph will make their prices agree with mine. "'Folks will go back to the land, as I have, says I. "'They don't know enough, says Sam. 'Farmin' is a lost art here in the East.
Now, if 'twas farmin', we'd be in it." "Thar ain't no more farmin' out yere than a rabbit, thet's shore. What might yer bizness be at home?" "I'm a hoss trader." "Thar ought ter be somethin' doin' out yere fer yer, then. All thar is in this country is hosses an' cattle." "They ain't my kind o' hosses." "Yer don't seem ter fancy cow ponies, eh?"
Buggins, almost tearfully "It is not this world but the next, that we must think of! We must pray for our souls!" "Well, marm, I ain't got a 'soul' wot I knows on an' as for the next world, if there ain't no cattle farmin' there, I reckon I'll be out o' work. Do you count on keepin' a bar in the 'eavenly country?" A loud guffaw went the round of the room, and Mrs. Buggins gasped with horror.
They come in by freight trainload, cars of horses and cattle, and machinery for farmin', from back there in Ohio and Indiany and Ellinoi all over that country where things a man plants in the ground grows up and comes to something. They went into this pe-rairie and started a bustin' it up like the ones ahead of 'em did.
"Weel, Robert," began the latter, after they had jogged on in silence for half a mile or so, "what's to be done wi' little Annie Anderson and her Auntie Meg, noo that the douce man's gane hame, an' left them theroot, as't war?" "They canna hae that muckle to the fore efter the doctor an' a' 's sattled for." "It's no to be thought. "Jeames Dow luikit weel after the farmin', though." "Nae doot.
Three boys an' two gals is still livin'. I lives wid my daughter, Claud, what is farmin' a place 'bout five miles from Clarksdale. I has' bout fifteen head o' gran'chillun an' ever' las' one of 'em's farmers. "Things is all peaceful now, but de worl' was sho' stirred up when Abraham Lincoln was 'lected. I 'member well when dey killed 'im.
And he had consider'ble to say about folks tryin' to farm when they didn't know a cucumber from a watermelon, and how 'farmin'' was a good excuse for doin' nothin', and such. And I didn't have any good answer to that, 'cause I do know more about seaweed than I do cucumbers, and the farm wasn't payin' and I knew it.
I wouldn't ef I was you. It's an onsartin business. There's nothin' like farmin' for stiddy work." "The old man kept me at work pretty stiddy," thought Ben. "He'd always find something for me to do." "'Ive been thinkin' that I need a boy about your age to help me on my farm. I ain't so young as I was, and I've got a crick in my back. I don't want a man-"
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