READINGS IN RURAL SOCIOLOGY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK BOSTON CHICAGO DALLAS ATLANTA SAN FRANCISCO MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED LONDON BOMBAY CALCUTTA MELBOURNE THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. TORONTO READINGS IN RURAL SOCIOLOGY BY JOHN PHELAN Professor of Rural Sociology and Director of Short Courses at Massachusetts Agri- cultural College H2eto gorfe THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1920 Att rights reserved COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Set up and electrotyped. Published September, 1920. PREFACE The rapid introduction during the past ten years of courses in rural sociology in universities, colleges, normal schools and other institutions engaged in the preparation of young men and women for the rural field has prepared the way for a book of readings in this subject that may be used as a text for an introductory course. Much of the material included in this book has been used with college classes in this institution and with classes of teachers in normal schools and in university summer courses. In the selection of the material it has seemed best to draw upon the writings of men and women whose long experience or professional standing entitles them to speak with some degree of authority. I have assumed that an introductory course in rural sociology should endeavor: first, to develop a broad, sympathetic under- standing of the real needs and actual conditions of farm and com- munity life in the United States ; second, to lead students to ap- preciate the relationship between life and labor, wealth and wel- fare on the farm, since farming is not only an occupation but also a mode of life ; third, to show as concretely as possible the unity of interest of rural and urban groups based on the fact that the farm supplies the city not only with food but also with a large proportion of its population, thus making necessary a sound rural life as the condition for the development of a permanent industrial democracy; fourth, to interest students in taking an active part in the work of those agencies that make for better conditions on American farms and in American rural communi- tion; fifth, to endeavor to prevent students from making that most common of all errors the undervaluation of the farmer's own judgment of what is best for himself. Grateful acknowledgment is here made to the authors and publishers for their generous contributions and unfailing cour- tesy. Their names appear from page to page. My thanks are v vi PREFACE due to many colleagues and friends for suggestions and criti- cisms concerning the organization or selection of the material, and to President Kenyon L. Butterfield for his interest and encour- agement in its publication. To my wife, Ida Densmore Phelan, I am indebted for assistance in the abridgement of selections, the reading of the proof and the preparation of the index. JOHN PHELAN. Massachusetts Agricultural College, Amherst, Massachusetts, 1920. TABLE OF CONTENTS CHAPTER I PAGE COUNTRY LIFE IN NEW ENGLAND 1 Farm Life a Century Ago .... Ethel Stanwood Bolton . 1 Intemperance in Colonial Days . . Percy Wells Bidwell . . 13 What Awaits Rural New England . Thomas Nixon Carver . 16 Facts New England Faces . . . Hampden County Im- provement League . 20 Agriculture in New England . . . Kenyan L. Butterfield . 20 Bibliography 25 CHAPTER II THE DEVELOPMENT OF COUNTRY LIFE IN THE WEST .... 27 The Middle West The Fiber of the People Edward Alsworth Ross . 27 The Significance of the Frontier in American History ..... Frederick Jackson Turner 29 The Spirit of the Pioneer .... Eay Stannard Baker . . 34 The Passing of the Frontier . . . James Bryce .... 35 The Great Southwest . . . . . Eay Stannard Baker . . 36 Life in the Corn Belt Thomas Nixon Carver . 38 Bibliography 44 CHAPTER III THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW 46 Social Conditions of the Old and the New South PHilip Alexander Bruce . 46 Our Carolina Highlanders . E. C. Branson ... 58 The Rural Negro and the South . . Booker T. Washington . 65 Following the Color Line .... Eay Stannard Baker . . 69 Bibliography 72 CHAPTER IV THE IMMIGRANT IN AGRICULTURE 75 1 Immigration in Agriculture . . . John Olsen .... 75 vii viii CONTENTS PAGE Why Immigrants Go to Cities . . Henry Pratt Fairchild . 86 Immigration as a Source of Farm Laborers John Lee Coulter ... 88 Bibliography 93 CHAPTER V PRESENT PROBLEMS OF COUNTRY LIFE 95 Wanted A National Policy. in Agri- culture Eugene Davenport . . 95 Who Is the Farmer? A. M. Simons . . .110 The Point of View in Comparisons of City and Country Conditions . . Kenyan L. Butterfield . Ill Soldier Settlements in English-Speak- ing Countries Elwood Mead .... 114 The Farmer in Relation to the Wel- fare of the Whole Country . . . Theodore Roosevelt . . 116 Bibliography 117 CHAPTER VI SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 119 A. COOPERATION The Moral Basis of Cooperation . . Thomas Nixon Carver . 119 Farmers' Cooperative Exchanges . Alexander E. Cance . . 120 Social Effects of Cooperation in Eu- rope C. 0. Gill 131 B. OWNERSHIP AND TENANCY Tenant Farming John M. Gillette . . .137 Some Advantages of Tenancy . . W. 0. Hedrick . . . 142 Agrarian Aristocracy and Population Pressure E. C. Hayes .... 145 C. ADULT LABOR The Influence of Machinery on the Economic and Social Conditions of the Agricultural People . . . H. W. Quaintance . . 147 The Agricultural Element in the Pop- ulation Eugene Merritt . . . 150 A Point of View on the Labor Prob- lem L. H. Bailey . . . .152 D. CHILD LABOR Rural Child Labor John M. Gillette . . . 155 Colorado Beet Workers .... Dr. E. N. Clopper . . 156 CONTENTS IX PAGE Strawberry Pickers of Maryland . . Harry H. Bremer . . 157 Children or Cotton Lewis H. Hine . . . 158 Bibliography 160 CHAPTER VII MENTAL AND MORAL ASPECTS OF RURAL LIFE 162 Characteristics of the Farmer . . . James Bryce .... 162 The Influence of Farm Life on Child- hood Charles W. Elliot . . 164 An Appreciation of Rural People . T. N. Carver .... 165 The Rural Environment and Great Men W. J. Spillman ... 168 Suggestion and City-Drift . . . Ernest R. Groves . . 172 The Mind of the Farmer .... Ernest E. Groves . . 175 The Need of Ideals in Rural Life . Kenyan L. Butterfield . 181 Bibliography 183 CHAPTER VIII RURAL HEALTH PHYSICAL AND MENTAL 185 A. RURAL HEALTH PHYSICAL A Sociologist's Health Program for the Rural Community . . . . L. L. Bernard . . . 185 City is Healthier for Children than the Country Thomas D. Wood . . 193 Rural Sanitation : Definition, Field, Principles, Methods, and Costs . . W. S. Rankin, M.D. . . 197 B. RURAL HEALTH MENTAL Feeble-mindedness Defined . . . E. J. Emerick . . . 203 Fundamental Facts in Regard to Feeble-mindedness Va. Board of Charities . 204 The Hill Folk Danielson and Davenport 206 The Extent of Feeble-mindedness in Rural and Urban Communities in New Hampshire Report of the Children's Commission . . . 213 Feeble-minded Citizens in Pennsyl- vania Dr. W. E. Key . . .214 Amentia in Rural England . . . A. F. Tredgold . . . 217 Urban and Rural Insanity . . .U.S. Bureau of Census . 218 What is Practicable in the Way of Prevention of Mental Defect . . W. E. Fernald . . .219 Bibliography 223 xii CONTENTS PACE The Community Fair J. Sterling Moran . . 402 The Smith-Hughes Act v . . . 407 Bibliography 407 CHAPTER XV THE COUNTRY CHURCH 411 Ten Years in a Country Church . . Matthew B. McNutt . . 411 Land Tenure and the Rural Church . Henry Wallace . . . 421 Rural Economy as a Factor in the Success of the Church . . . . T. N. Carver . . . .426 The Church Situation in Ohio . . C. 0. Gill .... 431 The Genoa Parish Rev. A. Ph. Kremer . . 435 Rural Work of the Y. M. C. A. . . A. E. Roberts and Henry Israel 437 County Work of the Y. W. C. A. . . Jessie Field . . . . 440 Ten Years' Progress in County Y. M. C. A. Work in Michigan . . . C. L. Rame . . . .441 The Call of the Country Parish . . Kenyan L. Butterfield . 442 Sectarianism Warrer. H. Wilson . . 443 Report of Committee on Country Church Function, Policy, and Pro- gram Kenyan L. Butterfield, Miss Jessie Field, Charles 0. Gill, Albert E. Roberts, Henry Wallace . . . 444 Bibliography 452 CHAPTER XVI - THE VILLAGE 455 The History of Village Improvement in the United States W. H. Manning . . .455 Social Privileges of Village or Small City C. J. Galpin .... 464 The Town's Moral Plan .... llarlan P. Douglass . . 467 Civic Improvement in Village and Country Frank A. Waugh . . . 471 Bibliography 476 CHAPTER XVII THE SURVEY 478 The Survey Idea in Country Life Work L. H. Bailey .... 478 Five Principles of Surveys . . . Paul U. Kellogg . . . 481 CONTENTS xiii PAGE A Method of Making a Social Survey of a Rural Community . . . . C. J. Galpin .... 484 The Social Anatomy of an Agricul- tural Community C. J. Galpin .... 490 Bibliography 497 CHAPTER XVIII THE ORGANIZATION OP RURAL INTERESTS t . 500 A. RURAL ORGANIZATION Rural Organization Kenyan L. Butterfield . 500 B. INTERNATIONAL ORGANIZATION The International Institute of Agri- culture Official 512 C. NATIONAL ORGANIZATION "Work of the Office of Markets and Rural Organization C. J. Brand .... 515 The Place of Government in Agricul- tural Cooperation and Rural Or- ganization 516 The County Farm Bureau . . . . L. R. Simons .... 518 Farmers' Clubs Kenyon L. Butterfield . 536 Farmers' Social Organizations . . A. D. Wilson .... 541 D. VOLUNTARY ORGANIZATION Declaration of Purposes of the Pa- trons of Husbandry Preamble 552 E. POLITICAL ORGANIZATION The National Non-Partisan League 557 F. COMMUNITY ORGANIZATION. How to Organize a Community . . E. L. Morgan .... 567 Definition of a Rural Community . . C. W. Thompson . . . 576 Bibliography 576 CHAPTER XIX LEADERSHIP 581 Leadership or Personal Ascendency . Charles E. Cooley . . 581 Leadership E. C. Hayes . . . .583 Rural Leadership L. H. Bailey .... 584 The Secret of Influence .... James Bryce .... 584 Training for Rural Leadership . . John M. Gillette . . . 585 The Sources of Leadership . . . John E. Boardman . . 587 The Development of Rural Leadership G. Walter Fiske . . . 589 x i v CONTENTS PAGE Seaman A. Knapp Pub. U. S. Bur. of Ed. . 601 Henry Wallace Herbert Quick . . .604 Bibliography 609 CHAPTER XX THE FIELD OF RURAL SOCIOLOGY 611 The Sociology of Rural Life . . . A. R. Mann . . . .611 The Scope of Rural Sociology . . John M. Gillette . . .615 The Teaching of Rural Sociology . . Dwight Sanderson . . 620 Definitions of Rural Sociology 622 Bibliography 623 READINGS IN RURAL SOCIOLOGY CHAPTER I COUNTRY LIFE IN NEW ENGLAND FARM LIFE A CENTURY AGO 1 ETHEL STANWOOD BOLTON IN the old days, when methods of work about the house and farm were prized for their hoary antiquity rather than, as now, for their novelty, and all farmers did as their ancestors had done, there was hardly a man in the New England towns who was not engaged in the pleasant occupation of farming. The storekeeper and the miller plowed, harrowed, and cultivated in the intervals of their other work, and the minister himself hung up his gown after the last service on Sunday, and, like the rest of the community, worked his land on Monday morning. A century ago each town owned a farm, the use of which was al- lowed the minister, rent free, as a part of his salary. The struggle in modern times is for the money to buy the necessities of life; then there was less to buy, and each man was dependent on his own exertions to get the necessities them- selves from the soil or from the stock which he could afford to keep. In those days, aside from the work which the miller or the itinerant cobbler performed, each farm was a nearly self-sup- porting entit} T , both for food and clothing. In modern times the great English artist, printer, and socialist, William Morris, founded a settlement which tried to be independent of the out- side world, growing and making all its own necessities and luxuries. The experiment was no more of a success than Mr. Alcott's similar scheme at Fruitlands, in the town of Harvard. i Adapted from a paper read upon several occasions, privately printed. 1 SOCIOLOGY In our great-grandfathers' time, however, this was no expe: ment, curious and interesting, but a fact to be reckoned wi from day to day throughout their lives. The village store sold the few luxuries of life white ai brown sugar, salt, West Indian goods, such as molasses ai spices, and, most of all, New England rum. Nearly every town boasted a foundry, where articles we made by hand, which would be far beyond the ability of 01 modern blacksmith. Here were made the plows and scythes, the foundry was equipped with a trip hammer; shovels and ho for outside work, nails for the carpenter, from the great ire spike to the shingle nail. The tools the carpenter used also can from the hands of the local blacksmith. In many country town old garrets will yield great chisels, primitive axes, and wrong! iron bit-stocks, all made by hand and testifying to the excellenc of workmanship by their age and condition. The househol utensils, too, were his work, the fire dogs, toasting racks, hob; iron kettles, skillets, and an endless array of less common things and all this in addition to the shoeing of horses and oxen. From 1799 to 1853, without a break, a good man of Massachusetts town kept a line-a-day diary, and from that I as going to quote, from the four seasons of the year, to show th dull routine of work in which the lives of our grandfathers am great-grandfathers were passed; how it lacked the diversifiec interests which we consider necessary to our happiness to-day and yet how little the unrest of modern times enters into any o: its spirit. Take these short sketches of the life of James Parker, knowi as ' * Captain James, ' ' a young and newly married man in 1806 " April 1st. I cut Hop-poles at the South End. 2nd. I wrought for Ivory Longl'ey, cart wood. Mr Edgarton Departed this life. 3d. Fast Day. I and Ruthy (his wife) went to Mr. Harkness (his wife's father). James came home with us. 4th. I and Ruthy went to the Funeral of Mr. Edgarton. Buryed in Mason order. The day was pleas- ant. A great collection of People. COUNTRY LIFE IN NEW ENGLAND 3 5th. I split staves, mortised posts. Ruthy went to Groton. 6th. I and Ruthy went to meeting 1/2 the day 1/2 went to funeral of Joel Willard's Child that was drowneded. 7th. I made a Curb to the well. Went to town Meet- ing. 8th. I partly made a yoak and it stormed. ' ' Later on, in the summer, his work changed, and was that of a tiller of the soil about his business: " July 28th. I mow'd 1/2 the day, 1/2 plow'd hops. Abner mow'd all day. 29th. I plow'd and how'd hops 1/2 the day. I went and plow'd Abner 's Corn. Abner helpt me 1/2 the day. 30th. I sow'd some turnips, it rain'd. I went to Davids (his brother). 31st. I helpt Father plow with my oxen and Vene helpt Drive. August 1st. I was haying. Abner helpt me 1/2 the day. I carted my N to Capt. Edgarton's. 2nd. I was plowing my stubble, it rain'd and Clowdy. 3. I went to meeting. Esq. Tom (the minister's son) red the Discourse. And so it is a constant reiteration of plowing, mowing, raking, hoeing, all done by hand or with the slow-paced oxen. How many lessons in patience the farmer learned in those days, and what a dignified ease there was about it all! There were no complaints when the hay was all cut and the weather turned bad, but a calm acceptance. In October preparations for the winter were being made. " October 1 I began to draw and hew the timber for my hog- pen. 2nd. I drew and hew'd timber for the same Abner helpt me. RURAL SOCIOLOGY 3rd. I hew'd timber, Abner helpt me. I dug some potatoes. 4th. I kiled my Bull. Abner helpt me. 5th. I and Ruthy went to meeting 1/2 went to Mr. Harkness's. 6th. I helpt my father 1/2 the day made cider at Capt, Hazen's. 1/2 dug Potatoes at the Pond. 7th. I and Ruthy went to Lancaster. I went to A little later, after frost had set in, more animals were killed cattle, sheep, and pigs and frozen. The creatures were hung whole in the attic or in some convenient shed, and represented the winter's supply. Apples were dried or turned into cider, for few were kept in barrels for the winter's use, as we now keep them. Most towns had cider mills in which the neighbors had rights. The mills were usually stone-walled and sometimes were cut into a hillside, like a cellar open in front, Inside was the great press, which was worked by a horse going round and round, harnessed to a great bar overhead. The size of the press is evidence of the universal use of cider. There is one note which is dominant throughout the diary, and that is one of mutual helpfulness. When haying time came, it was not each man for himself, but all the men of a small neigh- borhood worked together, and harvested the hay from each farm until it was all well housed. Even then the harvest was slow in comparison with what our modern machinery will accom- plish. If any were in trouble, help was immediate and prac- tical. If a man were sick and the burden fell on the woman alone, the cattle were tended and the work done by the neighbors. Throughout December Captain Parker sledded wood for him- self and for others with his pair of oxen, and doubtless got some of the ready money which all men like to have. One entry on Christmas Day, less than ten years later, shows how much our forefathers lacked appreciation of the joys of a holiday. Cap- tain James writes : COUNTRY LIFE IN NEW ENGLAND 5 "December 25th. I helpt clean the school-house. The school kept 1/2 the day." There was one great industry which brought much money to New England towns for many years; that was hop growing. Disease and competition from more Western States finally put an end to one of the great money-making employments of the New England farm of those days. In the middle of one Massa- chusetts town there can still be seen a field plowed and hilled for the hops that were never planted. Why they were not, no one can tell now, but there the furrows are, in the midst of a great wood, with sixty-year-old pine trees reaching far over your heads, growing in that forsaken field. On many of the farms one can see the old hop kilns in a more or less advanced state of ruin adding their picturesque touch to the landscape. A hundred years ago the vocation of a husbandman or farmer was as truly a trade to be learned as that of cobbler, miller, black- smith, or the rest. So young boys were apprenticed to this trade, as to the others. This custom, also, in large measure, solved the problem of help for the farmers of that day. The low wages paid these apprentices for their services gives some explanation of the reasons for the acquisition of a comfortable living by many farmers. Among the Parker papers in Shirley I found an indenture of about one hundred years ago, which gives a vivid picture of the duties of the apprentice and his master. The father's caution in demanding education "if the said apprentice is capable to learn," shows how meager the learning was in those days among the poorer classes. "This Indenture Witnesseth, that David Atherton of Shirley in the County of Middlesex and Commonwealth of Massa- chusetts, Yeoman, hath put and placed and by these presents doth put and bind out his son David Atherton Jun r and the said David Atherton Jun r doth hereby put, place and bind out himself as an Apprentice to James Parker Esq r of Shirley in the County and Commonwealth afore- said to learn the art or trade of an husbandman ; the said David Atherton Jun r after the manner of an Apprentice to dwell with and serve the said James Parker Esq r from the day of the date o RURAL SOCIOLOGY hereof untill the eighth of January one thousand, eight hundred and twenty four, at which time the said apprentice if he should be living will be twenty one years of age. During which time or term the said apprentice his said master well and faithfully shall serve, his secrets keep, and his lawful commands every- where at all times readily obey, he shall do no damage to his said master, nor wilfully suffer any to be done by others, and if any to his knowledge be intended, he shall give his master seasonable notice thereof. He shall not waste the goods of his said master, nor lend them unlawfully to any ; at cards, dice or any unlawful game he shall not play, fornication he shall not commit, nor matrimony contract during the said term ; taverns, ale-houses or places of gaming he shall not haunt or frequent; from the service of his said master he shall not absent himself, but in all things and at all times he shall carry himself and be- have as a good and faithful Apprentice ought, during the whole time or term aforesaid and the said James Parker Esq r on his part doth hereby promise, covenant and agree to teach and in- struct the said apprentice or cause him to be instructed in the art or trade of husbandman by the best way and means he can, and also to teach and instruct the said apprentice or cause him to be taught and instructed to read and write and cypher to the Rule of Three if said apprentice is capable to learn and shall faithfully find and provide for the said apprentice good and sufficient meat, drink, clothing, lodging and other necessaries fit and convenient for such an apprentice during the term afore- said, and at the Expiration thereof shall give unto the said ap- prentice two good suits of wearing apparel, one for Lord's Day and the other for working days and also Eighty Dollars in good curant money of this Commonwealth at the end of said term. In testimony whereof the said parties have hereunto interchange- ably set their hands and seals this sixteenth day of October in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and twenty." The food of our forefathers has always had a certain enchant- ment. Who can read of the chicken roasting on the spit before the open fire without wanting a taste ; or who can listen to tales of one's grandmother of the great baking of those days without a feeling of longing? In hunting over dry deeds in the Court House in Cambridge, I came across one which interested me very COUNTRY LIFE IN NEW ENGLAND 7 much, as it gave an enlightening touch to the question which to all housekeepers is a most vivid one the food problem. In 1823, Hezekiah Patterson, who lived in the eastern part of Shirley, being old and tired of the responsibility of farming, sold his forty-eight acres of land and his house to Thomas Hazen Clark, in exchange for the support of himself and his wife, Jane, for the rest of their lives. They reserved room enough for their horse and its hay in the barn, and room enough in the house for themselves, and then gave an itemized account of what they called "support" for one year. "6 bushels of rye 6 bushels of indian Corn 1 bbl. white flour 200 Ibs. Shoat pork 100 Ibs. beef. 1/2 quintal of Cod-fish 60 Ibs. of butter 60 Ibs. of cheese 2 Ibs. of SouChong tea 2 Ibs; chocolate 1 Ib. Coffee 5 Ibs. loaf sugar 30 Ibs. of brown sugar 10 gals. New England Rum 1 gal. West Indian Rum 6 gal. Molasses 2 bushels of Salt 1/2 bushel of white beans 15 bushels potatoes 1/2 of all the cider and enough wood for the fire. ' ' This yearly menu hardly suggests variety, but it was at least sweet and substantial. While the men worked in the fields and tended the cattle, the women had their many duties, too. Their energies were de- manded for so many things that a housekeeper in those days need be an expert along many lines. Men in those days ate simple things, and simple cooking, like very simple clothes, must 8 RURAL SOCIOLOGY be so much the better intrinsically. The food that is simple must be well seasoned or well cooked to tempt, while a compli- cated dish disguises its poor cooking by its high seasoning, as a badly cut dress may be made to look well by its many furbe- lows. Baking in a brick oven was an art. The oven was filled with wood, lighted and burned out, making the bricks of the right degree of heat. Then the oven must be cleaned. At the farthest end were put the beans, followed by the brown bread, Indian pudding, white bread, pies, and cake. They were al- lowed to stay, and were taken out in the reverse order from that in which I have named them. All other cooking must be done over the coals of a great wood fire, or in a tin kitchen placed on the hearth. We may imagine that the table service in a country farmhouse was not complicated. It was etiquette to eat with the knife, as forks had not come into use. Pewter and old blue iron ware abounded ; copper, also, was much used, and must have added color to the kitchen. After the inner man was satisfied, the wife must still clothe her husband, her- self, and her children. Cloth could, of course, be bought, but as a rule was far too expensive for anything but a farmer's very best. Homespun was the general wear, and to make home- spun the wool had to be taken from their own sheep oftentimes to make their clothes, and all the process after the shearing and washing fell to the woman's share. I believe that there were itinerant tailoresses later on, but of course only the well-to-do could afford such luxuries. The flax, too, had to be spun and woven. Many houses throughout the country still show the old loom room, where the loom stood for generations. Many parts of old looms can still be found, reeds, shuttles, needles, and heddles. Stockings had to be knit and many endless tasks performed to keep the family warm and dry. Often the man of the family did part of the cobbling of his children 's shoes and his own. Candles must be made foe light, and candle dipping was a hard and dirty task. It took skill to make them round and even. Later molds came in fashion and made the task easier and less dirty. Soap had to be made for the family use. These were tasks in addition to the ordinary sweeping, cooking, and housework which every house demands. Floors were scrubbed COUNTRY LIFE IN NEW ENGLAND 9 with soap and sand until they were white and they were kept so by the thrifty housekeeper. Nearly every town had a man whose occupation must have been picturesque the hatter who made those enormous beaver hats that looked almost like fur, that men wore years ago. It took him a long time to make a hat, and when it was done the owner wore it proportionately long. We New Englanders are all familiar with the costumes of a hundred years ago. The Shakers still wear them when they dress in their uniform. When Mother Ann Lee founded the order, about 1793, the clothes as you see them now were the ordinary clothes in vogue then. They have never changed the style, unless of late years some of them have grown more worldly and have adopted modern dress. And now, after a hundred years of disuse, the stylish cloak of a former century is again in demand. And when all the work was done, they gathered around the great fireplace, in the candle-light. The light, even until kero- sene came to be used, was very poor, and in those days one read with the paper or book in one hand and the candle in the other, so that it might be moved back and forth before the print. The picture that one has is the coziest in the world, but contempor- aries tell us that the reality was often far from the ideal. The great chimneys, with their huge fires, created a draught which brought the outer cold into the room, and fires really warmed but a small area. Yet here, around this kitchen fire, centered all the life of the home, all its comfort and its homeliness. Life was not all a grind to these good people, for they had their social gatherings, and varied ones, too. First and fore- most stood the church with its services, the social center of the town. But when we remember that country towns were nearly isolated from the outer world ; that the only travel was by the slow method of stage-coach or private carriage, and was seldom indulged in ; it seems natural that the people should have turned to the church, where all were welcome in fact, where all must go, or be labored with by the minister and deacons. So it came to pass that this was the one thing in which all were interested, in which all had a share. When we remember, too, how large a part religion played in the minds and hearts of our ancestors, 10 RURAL SOCIOLOGY it is inevitable that the church should stand as the most im- portant and the unifying factor of their lives. On Sundays nearly every one went to meeting and stayed all day. No one cooked on Sunday, and all the food for that day was cold. The women were expected to go to church all day, as well as the men, so that the Saturday baking, which tradition still holds many a modern household to regard, was then a mat- ter of urgent need as well as a matter of conscience. The man who had relatives living near the church, or who lived near by, was indeed lucky, because a warm fire at noon might then be his. Otherwise the dinner was carried and eaten in the church in winter, or outside in summer. JEow many of us would submit to the discomfort of sitting all day in an unheated building, regaling ourselves at noon with cold food, with the thermometer many times in the neighborhood of zero? Yet duty led them and personal comfort did not enter into their consideration. We may hope that the dish of gossip, taken with their dinner, compensated for much which might otherwise have been unbear- able. Perhaps this human companionship softened the denun- ciations and threats of the two sermons. The church, aside from its spiritual teachings, furnished a place in which all the town met once a week. It was more or less political in a broader sense, for there matters of national politics, state politics, and even those of local importance were discussed by the minister. As he was the best educated man, his opinion and its expression very often formed that of the majority of those of the other men in town. In the church, also, were held the town meetings, with their serious and sometimes humorous debates, which furnished a means of growth and expression to others. It was this training which enabled the colonies to withstand the mother country. Men had learned to think in a logical way, and to express their thoughts. They were keen to find the weak places in an argu- ment and to search out sophistries. When England attempted to cheat their sense of justice, she found a community made up of citizens, not of peasants. The town was divided into districts; the center of each was the school. Each district met and decided its own educational problems as best suited it; each engaged its own teachers, and COUNTRY LIFE IN NEW ENGLAND 11 disbursed its own share of the school appropriations. Bitter and often sanguinary were the fights over this important ques- tion; many and hard were the debates as to whether it should be a ' ' writing school " or a * ' reading school, ' ' and how they could make their share of the funds hold out. These districts also took care of their own roads, and most men, rather than pay their taxes in cash, "worked out" their taxes on the roads. So far as one can gather from the records the roads were treated a good deal like a plowed field, and must have been exceedingly poor. They were plowed every spring and heaped up into the middle, with the intention of making a watershed. The roads were a constant annoyance at all seasons mud spring and fall, dust in the summer, and drifting snow in win- ter. Complaint was made in a nearby town that a certain man named Hildreth had put his stone wall so far into the road that the drifting snow made it impassable. The road commissioner warned Hildreth to remove the wall, which he refused to do. So the wall was moved back by those working on the road. Hildreth tore it down in the night and rebuilt it on the former site. The wall was torn down again by the road commissioner, and replaced where it belonged. It was then guarded by men until the town met and voted that Hildreth leave his wall where it should be, and write a letter of apology to the commissioner. All this Hildreth did with a bad grace. A domestic amusement was a house or barn raising. To this about every one in the town went, the men to do the actual raising, the women and girls to prepare and serve the feast which followed. Their hospitality was generally lavish. To one who has never partaken of the delights which can be baked in a brick oven, the tales of those so blessed seem more or less like those of the ''Arabian Nights." A halo, formed of the reminiscences of gay good times and the appetite of youth, is put around these pleasures of a bygone day, making them shine with a preternatural light. And at these raisings, besides the baking and the roast meats, was there not cider and Medford rum to make glad the heart of man ? Funerals and weddings were also legitimate social times, the former to afford the luxury of woe, the latter of unalloyed joy. 12 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Then there were the kitchen dances in the winter, and each man took his turn at entertaining, and showed with pride the good things that his wife could make. The good times, as we look back upon them, seem so simple and wholesome, they were en- tered into with such a spirit of enthusiasm and expectancy, that it makes one wish that one could now have so whole-hearted a good time from so little. It seems almost as if the hard work and drudgery of daily life gave a fine zest to their amusements. Later on the Lyceum came to try the sinews of men in debate, came to prove the literary ability of their wives and daughters. They debated on everything under the sun huge philosophical subjects jostled trivialities; questions of morals, religion, and politics followed discussions of farming and cattle raising. The records of such a Lyceum lie before me. The members began their work by this debate, "Resolved, that a scolding wife is a greater evil than a smoking house. ' ' They decided in the affirm- ative, and then passed to this, "Resolved, that the old man in the story in Webster's spelling book was justified in throwing stones at the boy. ' ' They next discussed the morality of giving prizes in the schools. Excitement often waxed high, and per- sonalities were dealt in, but the end of the evening brought calm. It was devoted to the literary efforts of the women of the Lyceum. These consisted of recitations, readings, and original essays. So our fathers on the farm varied their hard work with fun in much smaller quantities than we enjoy to-day. But in those days the actual struggle was less; a man toiled for his daily bread itself with no competitors but the soil, the weather, and his own temperament. Now a man works at his specialty to outdo his competitors, to get his goods to the market quicker and in better condition, to sell that he may buy, not to grow and tend that he may eat and be warm. Through all their life there is a note of contentment, and I think that deep in the heart of most modern farmers that same note could be struck. For after all is said, the actual owner- ship of a large piece of mother earth is a continual source of peace; and the freedom from the oversight and commands of others, to be at no man's beck and call, lends a dignity to the farmer, and enhances his self-respect, until he feels himself and is the equal of any in the land. COUNTRY LIFE IN NEW ENGLAND 13 A rhyme on an old English pitcher shows that this feeling has been through many, many years the underlying one of the Anglo- Saxon farmers : Let the mighty and great Koll in splendor and state, I envy them not, I declare it. I eat my own lamb, My own chicken and ham, I shear my own sheep and wear it. I have lawns, I have bowers, I have fruits, I have flowers, The lark is my morning charmer ; So you jolly dogs now, Here's God bless the plow Long life and content to the farmer. INTEMPERANCE IN COLONIAL DAYS 1 PERCY WELLS BIDWELL intemperance of the colonial period," says Charles Francis Adams, " is a thing now difficult to realize ; and it seems to have pervaded all classes from the clergy to the pauper." We have -already remarked the large consumption of cider in the farmers' families and have commented upon the importance of the retail sale of stronger liquors in the business of the country stores and taverns. Every important occasion in home or church life, every rural festivity was utilized as an opportunity for generous indulgence in intoxicants. Neither the haying-season in early summer, nor the hog-killing season at the end of autumn could be successfully managed without the aid of liberal pota- tions of "black-strap" and "stone-wall." Husking bees, house- raisings, training days, and even christenings, burials and or- i Adapted from "Rural Economy in New England at the Beginning of the Nineteenth Century." Publication of the Connecticut Academy of So- cial Science, 1916, pp. 374-77. 14 RURAL SOCIOLOGY dinations were often disgraced by the drunkenness of partici- pants. The craving for stimulants with its disastrous results on the fortunes of individuals and on the general moral tone of the community proceeded partly from the coarse and unvaried diet of the farming population, and probably to a larger extent, from a desire to relieve at least temporarily the dreary monotony of village life. There are always two opposing views current among the older generation concerning the relative virtues of their early days as compared with the conditions which they see about them in their declining years. Some look back to a sort of Golden Age and view all the features of the past through rose-colored spectacles. Others with a more optimistic frame of mind are quite willing to admit that the passage of the years has brought improvement along many lines and do not hesitate to glory in the progress that has been achieved under their eyes during a long life. There are probably elements of truth in both views, but as far as the general features of social life are concerned and their effect in stimulating or in depressing the individual, the latter view seems to be more in accord with the facts as we know them. The Rev. Mr. Storrs, in reviewing a pastorate of fifty years in the town of Braintree, Mass., said: "And when it is remem- bered that fifty years ago, and for many after years, no post office blessed the town, nor public conveyance for letters, papers, or persons, was to be had, even semi-weekly, except through vil- lages two miles distant ; that but for the occasional rumbling of a butcher's cart, or a tradesman's wagon, the fall of the hammer on the lap-stone, or the call of the plowman to his refractory team, our streets had well nigh rivaled the graveyard in silence, it can scarcely surprise one, that our knowledge of the outer world was imperfect, nor that general intelligence and enterprise was held at a discount ; and if powder, kettle drums, and conch- shells, proclaimed the celebration of a wedding ; or if wine, and spirits more dangerous than any from the vasty deep, were im- bibed at funerals to quiet the nerves and move the lachrymals of attendants ; or if rowdyism and fisticuffs triumphed over law and order on town meeting, muster and election days, ... it was but the legitimate overflow of combined ignorance and heaven- COUNTRY LIFE IN NEW ENGLAND 15 daring recklessness. Those days are passed and shame throws its thick mantle over them. ' ' An isolated community always tends toward social degenera- tion, and the drunkenness, rowdyism, and general coarseness of manners of the inland towns at this time were but premonitions of the more disastrous results which might be expected from economic and social stagnation. At no time in these commun- ities was there a distinct criminal class, of the type now tech- nically known as degenerate ; but petty crimes, stealing, assaults and disturbances were of frequent occurrence. There are many indications that the influence of the church was decadent. Up to the beginning of the nineteenth century, the ecclesiastical or- ganization had secured, by means of a censorship of the private life of its members so inquisitorial as to seem nowadays intoler- able, fairly submissive adherence to a rigid code of morality. With the decline in the authority of the church in matters of doctrine came sses, each man must stand his share. So powerful, indeed, are these associations that they can even venture to fight the railroad companies in the matter of freight rates, as they have done more than once in California. Farming in the East is a sort of guerilla warfare, every man for himself; in the arid West, it is a highly organized and disci- plined struggle. It is interesting to speculate as to the effect which these new conditions of life will have on the American character. Irri- gation requires a greater degree of skill than ordinary agricul- ture; it is more a matter of exact science, less of chance. The Easterner sows his crops and depends on the will of Heaven for his rain ; the Westerner goes out to his head-gate and lets in the rain, in just such amounts and at just such times as he pleases. He knows how much water he is entitled to, and its distribution is a simple matter of calculation. But he must be a careful student of his crops; he cannot water his strawberries and his sugar-beets at the same time and in the same amount, for the strawberries are always thirsty, while the beets require only a few waterings in the season. He must also know his own peculiar climate, for fields require much more water in the desert air of Arizona than in the moister climate of southern California, and he must have a care that the water leaves no alkali in his soil. In other words, he must be an intelligent, reading, scientific farmer if he would outwit the desert and compete with the energy of his neighbors. Men in the irrigated lands live closer together than in the East, and farms are smaller. Some valleys, indeed, seem like villages, each resident of which lives in the midst of handsome grounds; whole districts in southern Cali- fornia are veritable parks for beauty. This brings neighbors closer together, breaks up the deadly isolation of the Middle States farmers, enables a community to have better schools, 38 RURAL SOCIOLOGY churches, and places of amusement, tempts the mercurial young man to stay on the farm. LIFE IN THE CORN BELT 1 T. N. CARVER THE average Western farmer is as well informed upon the questions of the day as the average business or professional man of our Eastern cities, though he lacks acquaintance with many things which some regard as essential to culture. He takes a deep interest in politics, and he is better informed about what goes on in our legislative halls than any other class. The corn belt is probably the most prosperous agricultural region of any considerable size in the world, but success requires great industry and a degree of knowledge that comes only from experience. In the East, especially in New England, where farming is not prosperous and the cities furnish better oppor- tunities for men of capacity, it happens that the best men are drawn from the country to the city, leaving, as a rule, only the less competent to people the country districts. That is why there has been so much discussion during the last year or two over the degeneracy of the farming regions. But in the corn belt the conditions are quite reversed ; the best opportunties are furnished by the farms, and one of the most striking facts that one observes on a tour of this kind is the manifest superiority of the average farmer, physically, intellectually, and morally, to the average dweller in the towns of that region. With the exception of the retired farmers, who make up a fair proportion of the population of the country towns and small cities of the West, the bulk of the population seems to be made up of people who are not fit to make good farmers. Even some of the so-called retired farmers have retired, not because they have accumulated a competence, but because they were unable to make farming pay or because they have found work too hard. They have moved to town, where their wives keep boarders while they loaf around the stores. For this i Adapted from World's Work, 7: 4232-9, Dec., 1903. COUNTRY LIFE IN THE WEST 39 reason there is a sharp distinction made between " tired" and " retired" farmers. The hotels and livery stables also are generally kept by this class of tired farmers. It seems that every line of business carried on in the towns and small cities in the corn belt is largely in the hands of in- ferior men, though of course there are numerous brilliant ex- ceptions. Almost every town or city will have one or two news- papers, which claim to be the organs of the leading political parties, but which really seem to be published for the purpose of apologizing for their own existence. The manual labor which is done about such towns is almost invariably done by men who are not fit for farm hands. Some are so profane and obscene in their language that a decent farmer would not have them around, but they will work as section hands on the railroad for less wages than farm hands get, and loaf about the depot and the streets at night, play Sunday baseball, and have other similar enjoyments not open to the farm hand. Even a good deal of the mercantile business is carried on by men who do not show a degree of intelligence at all comparable to that of the average farmer. One hears a great deal of shockingly bad grammar in the corn country, but correct speech is really a matter of conventionality, and a farmer's success does not depend upon his observance of conventionalities. On the other hand, there are certain things which he must know, and which no amount of suavity or grace or good form will enable him to dispense with. He is dealing with nature rather than with men, and nature can not be de- luded by a pleasant front nor a smooth tongue. One must not be hasty in forming conclusions as to the farmer's intelligence on the basis of his clothes, his knowledge of the forms of polite society, nor even his use of grammar. Though the average family is somewhat larger than that of the well-to-do urbanite, there is a manifest decline even in the country districts. Families of four or five children among the native Americans are quite common, but one almost never finds such patriarchal families of ten and twelve children as were common in the days of our grandfathers. The most conspicuous case of this kind that I saw was a family of eight children be- longing to an Iowa farmer. The mother, who is still slightly on 40 RURAL SOCIOLOGY the sunny side of forty, was a daughter of a well-to-do farmer and had excellent ' ' schooling ' ' for the time and place. She was a country schoolma'am at the age of eighteen, and also gave music lessons to a few children in the community. She spent one year at a small Western college, but was married at the age of twenty-two to a young farmer who was living on a rented farm and whose only capital consisted of a team and farming im- plements. She has raised or is raising her eight children ; they have bought a farm of 160 acres, which is now paid for; they have a comfortable house; and they are just beginning to feel in easy circumstances. The long, hard struggle through which they have gone has in no way embittered their dispositions. They are active in church work; the mother teaches a class in Sunday-school ; and the eldest daughter, seventeen years of age, is the organist. The children were unusually bright and healthy, and the mother insists that some way must be found to send them all through college, and I have little doubt that they will succeed. The husband is a hard working man of kindly disposition, but considerably her inferior in mental and social endowments, of which fact, however, both seemed utterly oblivious. One form of social diversion common throughout the corn belt is what is known as the "basket-meeting." A basket-meeting is nothing more nor less than a regular church service turned into a picnic. Some grove near the country church is selected, and on Saturday afternoon the men gather and erect an outdoor pulpit, with a sufficient number of benches for the congregation, and on the following Sunday, at the regular hour, the church service is held here instead of in the church. After the service the members of the congregation, having come supplied with baskets of provisions, spread them upon the benches and partake of a bountiful dinner. But such a minor festivity pales into insignificance in com- parison with such annual events as the Fourth of July, Old Settlers' Day, and the County Fair, though the latter has sadly degenerated since it fell into the hands of city sports, who make it simply an occasion for horse-racing, accompanied by all the devices for separating a fool from his money which usually sur- round a circus. COUNTRY LIFE IN THE WEST 41 The farmer in the corn belt has his labor problem, too, though I have never heard any one predicting the doom of the corn belt on that ground. The fact is that while the existence of the labor problem is recognized, it is of such minor significance as to be almost negligible. Fortunately for Western agriculture and American society in general, there is no proletariat of agricul- tural laborers. There are practically no farm laborers of the European type that is, men who expect always to work for wages as farm hands. The typical farm hand is a young un- married man, usually the son of a farmer living in the neighbor- hood though frequently a foreign immigrant who "works out ' ' for a few years merely to get money enough to begin farm- ing on his own responsibility on a rented farm. The scarcity of farm labor, however, in no way interferes with the success of corn-growing. In the first place, the corn-grower works with his own hands, and so do the other members of his family. Riding plows and cultivators, disk harrows and corn harvesters, as well as twine binders and hay stackers, so reduce the amount of muscular strength needed that a boy of ten years of age will frequently render almost as much service as a grown man. Another factor which contributes to the solution of the labor problem is the distribution of the work of the farm over the year. On a typical corn farm there .is no season which is pre- eminently the 'busy season, unless the corn-plowing has fallen be- hind because of wet weather. Though farmers with whom I talked universally agreed that corn was by far their most profit- able crop, there were very few farms where corn was grown exclusively. With a given labor force, only a certain amount of corn can be cultivated, anyway, and it requires no more labor force to grow a certain amount of other crops in addition. Wheat and oats are sown before corn-planting time, and are harvested after the corn has been "laid by" that is, after the plowing is finished. The hay harvest also comes in this interval, and the threshing is usually done before the corn-husking be- gins. Moreover, the stubble fields can usually be plowed in the interval between the harvesting of the small grain (wheat and oats) and the husking of the corn. Thus the farmer in the corn 42 RURAL SOCIOLOGY belt has practically eliminated the labor problem, so that even the limited supply of farm hands is no serious handicap upon the corn-growing industry. As to the problem of domestic service, there is practically none. Hired girls are almost non-existent. Every farmer's wife ex- pects to do her own work, and if in time of sickness or of special stress of work she can induce some girl from the neighborhood to come in and help her, she considers herself fortunate. Like other parts of the West, the corn belt was settled by people from a great variety of sources, and has not been without its share of tough communities; but the land was too valuable, and there was too high a premiun on thrift and industry for such communities long to remain. Everywhere in the corn belt, and indeed wherever farming is prosperous, one meets with the interesting phenomenon of the retired farmer. In general, he is a man considerably past mid- dle age, who has by hard work and careful management become the owner of a fair-sized farm, with perhaps a moderate bank account besides, and who has either sold or rented his farm and moved to town to spend his declining years in rest. From the number of such cases one might almost conclude that the average farmer's idea of paradise was a country town where he could live comfortably, supplying his daily needs without denying himself rest or sleep, and where he would be free from the wear and tear of continually guessing at the weather, caring for his live-stock, battling with weeds and the thousand-and-one other relentless enemies of the farmer. But when he reaches this paradise, unless he has retired on account of old age, he is almost invariably disappointed, if not demoralized. The life soon grows monotonous. Having always been accustomed to an active out- door life, he becomes restive and discontented. Sometimes he takes up some other line of business goes into a store, starts a hotel or a livery stable, or goes into the real estate business ; and. again he sometimes degenerates into an ordinary town loafer. He frequently makes a poor urbanite, for his ideas of living were developed under rural conditions. He is somewhat slow to ap- preciate the value of good sewage, generally opposes levying taxes for street improvements, and is almost invariably disliked by the merchants because of his parsimonious way of buying COUNTRY LIFE IN THE WEST 43 goods. The habits of his early life stay with him and dominate all his business transactions. The effect of town life upon the retired farmer is, however, by no means to be compared with its demoralizing effect upon his minor children, especially his boys, if he happens to have any. As a traveler moves westward, if he keeps his eyes, or rather his ears, open, he becomes more and more impressed at the roughness and even profanity of the language which he hears in public places. This impression, however, is due partly to the fact that the ordinary traveler only sees and hears what goes on about the railway stations, hotel corridors, and similar places, and the class of people who infest such places are by no means representative. When he gets away from beaten lines of travel, out into the rural districts, this impression is by no means so vivid. Nevertheless, it remains, and it is undoubtedly true that there is more rough language in the West than in the East. At the same time, if he takes the trouble to attend country churches and to form some idea of the popular interest in religious matters, he is impressed with the piety of the people. It will usually take him some time to reconcile these two apparently contra- dictory impressions, but the explanation is that as one moves westward through the agricultural districts he meets fewer and fewer of that class which is so numerous in cities and also in the rural districts of the East, who are neither pious nor wicked simply indifferent. In other words, it seems that throughout the West, especially beyond the Missouri River, every man is either pious or profane, and the prevailing type of piety is of the Methodistic sort, just as the prevailing type of impiety is of the turbulent, swearing sort. Politically, the West is rapidly settling down to more fixed habits of thought, though it had its period of unrest. In the early seventies, and again in the early nineties, the "Western farmer became the spoiled child of American politics. He has been flattered and cajoled by demagogues until he came to think himself the most important factor in our social system. This position he has now been deprived of by the wage-worker, who is to-day laying the flattering unction to his soul that he is the most important personage in the universe. To be sure, neither the Grange nor the Farmers' Alliance in their wildest days ap- 44 RURAL SOCIOLOGY preached in arrogance the labor organizations of the present; nor did they ever, either directly or indirectly, countenance violence or lawlessness of any kind. This is probably due to the fact that the farmers, as a class, are vastly more intelligent and law-abiding than the rank and file of the wage-workers, though they are more numerous and politically more powerful. The corn belt is the most considerable area in the world where agriculture is uniformly prosperous. This prosperity is, more- over, healthful and natural, and not artificial, like the sugar- beet industry, for example, which has never in any country shown its ability to stand alone unaided by government favors, nor, like much of our manufacturing prosperity, based upon government protection. The people engaged in the corn-growing industry are an independent, progressive class, drawing their sustenance from the soil, and not from other people. BIBLIOGRAPHY Baker, Ray Stannard. Destiny and the Western Railroad. Century, 75 : 892-94, April, 1908. The Vitality of Mormonisra, a Study of an Irrigated Valley in Utah and Idaho. Century, G8 : 165-177, June, 1904. The Great Northwest. Century, 66:85-97; 643-55, May and Sep- tember, 1903. The Great Southwest. Century, 64 : 5-15 ; 213-25 ; 361-73 ; 635-45 ; May, June, July, August, 1902. Bryce, James. The American Commonwealth, Macmillan, N. Y., 1889. Bentley, Arthur F. The Condition of the Western Farmer as illus- trated by the economic history of a Nebraska township. Johns Hopkins University Studies, Series 7-8, The Johns Hopkins Press, Baltimore, 1893. Canfield, Dorothy. The Westerner. Scribner, 49 : 158-165, Feb., 1911. Cannon, Frank J. and O'Higgins, Harvey J. Under the Prophet in Utah, Clark, Boston, 1911. Cannon, Frank J. and Knapp, George L. Brigham Young and his Mormon Empire, Revell, Chicago, 1913. Coman, Katherine. Economic Beginnings of the Far West. Mac- millan, N. Y., 1912. Fite, E. D. Social and Industrial Conditions in the North during the Civil War. Macmillan, N. Y., 1910. Garland, Hamlin. A Son of the Middle Border. Macmillan, N. Y., 1917. Gleed, Chas. S. True Significance of Western Unrest. Forum, 16: 251-260, Sept., 1893. Harger, C. M. The AVest at Home in the Country. Outlook, 86: 32-36, May 4, 1907. COUNTRY LIFE IN THE WEST 45 Hartt, Rollin L. Middle Westerners and that Sort of People. Cen- tury, N. Y., December, 191(3. Hinsdafe, B. A. Old Northwest. Silver, N. Y., new ed. Ilowells, William C. Recollections of Life in Ohio, 1813-1840. Stew- art & Kidd Co., Cincinnati, 1007. Lumrais, Charles F. Pueblo Indian Folk-Stories. Century, N. Y., 1916. Norris, Frank. The Pit. Doubleday, Garden City, 1903. Page, Walter H. The Land and the People. World's Work, 10 : 6459- 65, July, 1905. Paxson, Frederick Logan. The Cow Country. Amer. Hist. Assoc. Review, 22 : 65-82, October, 1916. The Pacific Railroads and the Disappearance of the Frontier in America. Amer. Hist. Assoc. Rept., 1907, 1 : 105-122. The Last American Frontier, Macmillan, N. Y., 1910. Phillips, Ulrich B. Documentary History of American Industrial So- ciety, Vols. I and II. (Plantation and Frontier.) Clark, Cleve- land, 1910. Pinchot, Gifford. The New Hope for the West. Century, 68 : 309-13, June, 1904. Robinson, Edward V. Early Economic Conditions and the Develop- ment of Agriculture in Minnesota. Univ. of Minnesota, (Studies in the Social Sciences, No. 3), St. Paul. Roosevelt, Theodore. Winning of the West. R. of Rev., N. Y., 1904. Ross, J. B. Agrarian Revolution in the Middle West. N. Amer. Rev., 190 : 376-91, July-December, 1909. Ross, Edward A. The Middle West. Century, 83:609-15; 686-92; 874-80; Feb., Mar., Apr., 1912; 84: 142-8, May, 1912. Showerman, Grant. A Country Chronicle. Century, N. Y., 1916. Small, A. W. and Vincent, G. E. The Rural Group, An Introduction to the Study of Society. Pp. 112-127, American, N. Y., 1894. Turner, Frederick Jackson. Rise of the New West. Harper, N. Y., 1906. Significance of the Frontier in American History. Univ. of Chi- cago, 1899. (Nat. Herbart Soc., 5th Yearbook.) Contribution of the West to American Democracy. Atlantic Monthly, 91:83-96, Jan., 1903. Colonization of the West, 1820-1830. Amer. Hist. Rev., 11 : 303-27, Jan., 1906. Thwaites, R. G. Early Western Travels. Clark, Cleveland, 1904-7. Cyrus H. McCormick and Reaper. Wis. Hist. Soc., Madison, 1909. Stories of the Badger State. American, N. Y., 1900. Van Dyke, John Charles. The Desert. C. Scribner's Sons, N. Y., 1901. White, Stewart Edward. Riverman. Grosset, N. Y., n. d. Blazed Trail. Grosset, N. Y., 1913. Westerners. Doubleday, Garden City, N. Y., n. d. Winsor, Justin. Westward Movement. Houghton, Boston. CHAPTEE III THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW SOCIAL CONDITION OF THE OLD AND THE NEW SOUTH * PHILIP ALEXANDER BRUCE BROADLY speaking, no institutions of the South were so pro- foundly affected by the failure of secession as the social. It is true that it was a great economic revolution to pass from slave labor to free labor, but the ground is still chiefly tilled by the hand of the Negro. The large plantation has been cut up into numerous estates, but the same staples continue to be cultivated. There has been a radical alteration in political conditions, but, on the whole, the representatives of the Southern States in their local legislatures and in the national Congress are drawn from the same general class as they were in times of slavery. The eco- nomic and political life of the South has been transformed, but transformed to a degree that falls short of the change that has taken place in its social life ; here the change has been complete so far as the rural districts, in which the overwhelming mass of the Southern people reside, are involved. The French Revolu- tion, with its drastic laws touching the ownership of land, did not sweep away the aristocracy of France one-half as thoroughly as the abolition of slavery swept away the old rural aristocracy of the South. The social condition of this part of the Union is now the reverse of what it was before the War of the Secession ; then all that was best in the social life of the people was to be found in the country; now all that is best is to be found in the city. The close of the great war marked the end of a society that had safely passed through all the vicissitudes of several hundred i Adapted from "The Rise of the New South," pp. 421-435, Barrie, Phila- delphia, 1905. 46 THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW 47 years. The peculiar social life of the Southern States, as a body, in consequence of its being coincident with the very existence of these States, had permeated with its spirit the genius of the Southern people from generation to generation, until it had become the most powerful of all the influences in molding their character and destiny. This social life rested primarily on the system of large plantations. In the early part of the history of the older Southern communities Virginia and Maryland, for instance when the plantation system, as it existed before the war, was founded, this system derived its strength, not from slavery, but from indentured white service, which, however, was not unlike slavery in spirit and influence, 'but as time went on, its principal support became the institution of slavery itself. As the number of Negroes increased, which they did very rapidly after the beginning of the seventeenth century both by natural addition and importation, the individual plantation grew larger and larger in order to create room for the employment of super- abundant labor. Not even the opening up of new territory could carry off the surplus slaves. The tendency toward the engross- ment of the soil in a few hands was just as remarkable in Vir- ginia, the oldest of the Southern States, as it was in Texas and Mississippi among the youngest, and it was just as strong in 1861, when the war began, as it was two hundred years earlier. What did this engrossment of land through so many genera- tions mean from a social point of view? It meant that from 1624, when the plantation system became firmly established in Colonial Virginia, down to 1861, when it prevailed in the most extreme form from one end of the South to the other, there existed a class in every Southern community, whose social pre- eminence rested as distinctly upon vast landed possessions as the like preeminence of the English aristocracy. The South illustrated anew a fact that had been strikingly illustrated in the history of England: namely that there is something in the ownership of the soil, confined to a comparatively small number, that gives peculiar social distinction to the class possessing it. The social prestige of great landed property was rendered the more impressive in the Southern States by the large retinues of slaves; there was, for that reason, a more baronial importance about such an estate than about the like estate of the English 48 RURAL SOCIOLOGY nobleman of the same day, whose dependents and retainers were at liberty, if they chose, to transfer their services to another employer. The slave belonged to the master absolutely; the tie could only be severed by the latter 's will. The complete sub- serviency of the relation gave a certain barbaric aspect to the condition of the great Southern landed proprietor, but the social life which centered in him was on that account not the less truly distinguished. In possession of a great estate in a comparatively thinly settled country, stocked up with hundreds of slaves, who were in the habit of looking to him for everything in life, the Southern landowner, under the old system, was, naturally enough, remarkable for a proud and aristocratic spirit. This was the general tone which men of his class gave to the highest social life of the South. There were, of course, no legally de- termined and fixed ranks in that life, but the line of separation was as clearly defined, and as firmly drawn as if the hereditary principle of caste had a distinct recognition, as in France under the ancient monarchy. The opportunities for accumulating large estates by the exercise of great talent for heaping up money were very few. The city shop and the country store of the South were narrow fields of operation for this purpose. The highest rank in society was not receiving unceasing additions in great numbers from the lower, in consequence of success in gathering together fortunes, as has always been the case at the North, where trade has ever been an unfailing means of building up new families. There were, it is true, many accessions in the Southern States, but it required a full generation at least to envelop the intruder in the odor of social sanctity, unless he had secured an exceptional connection by marriage. Pride of ancestry was one of the most powerful of all social influences in the South, and the ability to prove a long and distinguished descent one of the most valued of possessions. Unlike the society of England, that of the South possessed no common center resembling London to direct general taste and govern fashion. The social life of every large plantation community was re- stricted to the bounds of the community ; it was the social life of neighborhoods, which might have a radius of as much as twenty . THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW 49 miles ; in this circuit everywhere in the older States of the South was to be found a social life reflecting a high degree of culture, refinement, and intelligence. The direct effect of the plantation life was to foster all the influences giving strength and per- manence to the family. The love of home was increased, not only by long personal association with the spot, but also by tra- ditions running back many generations into the past. Around it gathered the memories of a family life as old, in many cases, as the first settlement of the country. The house in which the planter resided had been erected perhaps a hundred or more years before, and was hallowed by innumerable events in the family history. The ties of family were strengthened, not only by long trans- mitted influences of this character, but also by the fact that, under that system, sons, as a rule, settled on lands which had been given them by their fathers in the neighborhood of the paternal estates. In time, there sprang up a community united by the bonds of closest kinship; and as the years passed, and brothers and sisters had children of their own, these bonds were knit more closely together still by the intermarriage of cousins. A whole countryside was frequently descended from the same ancestors, and the most skillful genealogist often found it im- possible to follow the ramifications of the common strain. It needed but the law of primogeniture to make the state of Southern society precisely similar in spirit to the society of England in the previous century. That society was even more given to hospitality than English society in the country. There was practically an unlimited supply of servants ; the abundance of provisions of all kinds was inexhaustible; and there was no effort at display imposing ex- pense and inconvenience. The seclusion of the planter's life threw around the visitor an unusual degree of interest; hospi- tality, at first a pleasure, took on very shortly a sacred character it became a duty which it was always delightful to perform. The guest, as often a stranger as a kinsman, was rarely absent from the plantation residence. Below the highest class of planters there was practically only one great class among the whites, a class which the general changes following the war have brought into the greatest promi- 50 RURAL SOCIOLOGY nence, but which, under the system prevailing before 1860, occupied a position of small social importance. The class made up of the small landowners always formed the body of the white population. Its members, as a rule, owned from fifty to two hundred acres of land, which they worked themselves, with the assistance, at the most, of a few slaves. When the first patents were sued out, it was deemed all-im- portant to take up the most fertile soil as, in the absence of arti- ficial manures, the best fitted for the culture of cotton or tobacco, and such as was least likely to be exhausted by prolonged tillage. The lands preferred were those situated on the rivers and larger streams which furnished an alluvial deposit. The constant aim of the wealthy planter was to engross as extensive an area of these lands as he could acquire ; broad reaches of upland were patented or purchased as a means of obtaining wood for fuel and timber for building, and as affording a wide range for the browsing of cattle. The mass of the white population, the true yeomanry of the country, were confined to the ridges and narrow low grounds of the small streams, the soil of which was inferior in productive capacity as compared with the grounds lying around the large streams held by the wealthy planters. The class of small landowners represented, in many instances, a high degree of thrift, but in some cases an extreme degree of poverty, according to the character of the different holdings, Many of the small estates were cultivated with great care and enabled the owners to live in comfort and abundance. The tables were set forth with a considerable variety of food; there was a slave to furnish the household service ; the residence though plain was substantially built and sufficiently spacious; to it were attached small gardens for both flowers and vegetables; also an orchard of fruit trees enclosed as a pen for the hogs ; and there were several milch cows, and a horse and vehicle for conveying the family to church. During the week, the owner with his sons and a Negro or two hoed and plowed in his tobacco and corn fields. When the end of the year came, he had perhaps several hundred dollars in his chest. If ambitious of improving his con- ditions, he expended his savings in the purchase of more land, by which he was enabled to plant cotton or tobacco over a larger area of ground. The increase from one couple of slaves made a con- THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW 51 siderable addition to his small fortune. Even when he had no occasion himself for the labor of the young Negroes as soon as they were strong enough to work, he could hire them at a profit ; many small landowners derived a good income from this letting of slaves who had been trained by them for some mechanical trade. The landowner whose entire holding consisted of soil on the ridge was by no means so well off as the members of his own class who owned land on the small streams. The expression ' ' po ' white, ' ' so freely used by the slaves as a term of opprobrium, was applied especially to these inhabitants of the highlands. The narrowness of their fortunes was disclosed in many ways in the sallowness of their complexions, resulting chiefly from in- sufficient and unwholesome food in the raggedness of the cloth- ing in the bareness and discomfort of their cabins, which were mere hovels with the most slovenly surroundings and in the thinness and weakness of the few cattle they possessed. No- where could there be found a population more wretched in some respects than this section of the Southern whites, the in- habitants of the ridge and pine barrens, men and women who had no interest in the institution of slavery and whose condition of extreme poverty was partly due to the system o large planta- tions. The abundance of Negroes diminished the calls for the labor of white men, which might have been furnished by this class, and the engrossment of land into great states shut them off from the most productive soil. The poor white man of energy and intelligence could look forward to but one career which gave him a certain opportunity to improve his condition. He could not hope to get anything but a bare livelihood out of his impoverished acres; the slave me- chanics stood in the way of his securing work in any local handi- craft, and there were no manufacturing towns where he could obtain a position in a factory; but throughout the South there was a constant need of faithful and resolute overseers. From the point of view of the indigent class of whites, the overseerships were most desirable, not only as indicating a social advance in life, but as offering a very sure prospect of accumulating a com- petency. This was the beginning of many considerable fortunes in lands and slaves. 52 RURAL SOCIOLOGY The relations of the small landowners with their neighbor, the large planter, were marked by a spirit of kindness, goodwill and esteem. They looked to him as their natural leader. The line of social difference was never crossed, but there was no barrier to the display of the warmest regard in their personal association with him. The society which they formed among themselves was noted for its homely respectability, but was not remarkable for any features of general interest. The simplicity distinguishing the social life of the leading planters took, in the case of that of the lower, the form of extreme plainness. The existence led by this section of the people was one of unusual seclusion; in- deed, their only places for general meeting were the churchyard, the courthouse, and the store, while the furthest point to which they traveled was the town in which they found a market for the sale of their cotton or tobacco. Their entire withdrawal from the world produced a marked primitiveness of character which was transmitted from generation to generation. There were two influences to maintain great pride of spirit in persons of this social rank even when they had to endure extreme poverty. First, they followed the independent life of the plan- tation; it is true that their estates were small, but they were absolute masters of their own property. Secondly, the presence of the slave, a standing object of social degradation, inspired the plainest white man with a sense of his superiority of race, a con- viction tending to strengthen his self-esteem as an individual. These influences gave a prouder tone to the whole social life of the common people of the South than would otherwise have distinguished it. On the other hand, the absence of educational advantages had a considerable effect in sinking this social life below the point which has been reached by the same grade of population elsewhere. Illiteracy, as we have already pointed out, was very prevalent ; it was one of the unfortunate results of the old plantation system that it curtailed all educational facili- ties, by its tendency to reduce the number of inhabitants occupy- ing a given area of country. Taken as a whole, the common people of the Southern States, during the existence of slavery, were an unusually intelligent, conservative, and sturdy population. The rank and file of the armies of the Confederacy in the War of Secession were chiefly THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW 53 drawn from this class, and surely the world never saw a body of soldiers more distinguished for the qualities that win the respect and admiration of mankind. The higher planting class of the South staked everything on the issue of the war their lives, their fortunes, the framework of their social life, their political supremacy, their all. When the more violent influences which the destruction caused by the conflict set in motion had practically finished their work, and this was done in a very few years after the close of the contest, the society in the rural districts of the South was like a vast field of grain over which a reaper had passed, cutting off the heads of the tallest stalks only, while it left practically untouched those of less height. The great planters were, with hardly an exception, ruined in the end, even though they succeeded for a short time in holding on to their estates. But as a body, the small planters, who had few slaves and who were cultivators of their own ground, remained upon as good a footing as they occupied before the War of the Secession began ; indeed, the general position of the lower whites of the South to-day is, from an economic point of view, far more advantageous than it was previous to 1860. This is due to several causes. First, in the breaking up of the large estates, which, as we have seen, were for the most part made up of the most fertile and most eligibly situated lands in the country, the small proprietors, who, before the war, had been confined to the ridges and creek bottoms, were able to purchase ground of the finest quality, because offered for sale in small tracts, without competition on the part of the former great and wealthy proprietors. This class, of old, always overbid the would-be buyers of small means. Many of the richest acres to be found in the Southern States are now owned by such men, who, had slavery been prolonged, would have spent their whole lives in cultivating a poor soil with very small returns. Secondly, the complete alteration in the economic system of the Southern States has directed the attention of their most enterprising business men to manufactures of all kinds, but especially to the manufacture of cotton. The development of this branch of industry, which, before the war, was carried on in a very limited way, has given employment to many thousands of operatives, drawn entirely from among those persons of the rural 54 RURAL SOCIOLOGY population who earned a livelihood by cultivating the ground in small tracts with their own hands. Had slavery not been abolished and the large plantation system destroyed, the manu- facturing interests would doubtless have continued to languish; and the opportunities now open in this rapidly expanding de- partment of industry would perhaps never have arisen to improve the condition of the poorer classes of the Southern whites. Thirdly, during the existence of slavery, it was to the interest of the large landed proprietors, who controlled the industrial affairs of every rural community, to train their own Negroes in the different handicrafts; there were blacksmiths, carpenters, wheelwrights, masons, bricklayers, shoemakers, and saddlers con- nected with all the most extensive plantations, and, with hardly an exception, they were the slaves of the owners. The only white mechanics to be found in those parts of the South where the black population was very numerous were residents of the scattered villages and towns. The Negro under the new system shows in the country a marked distaste for every branch of me- chanics, and the handicrafts there have in consequence steadily gravitated to white tradesmen. Thus the poorer class of white persons have a means of earning a livelihood and even a com- petence, of which they were practically deprived before the abolition of slavery; employment in this department of activity is now afforded to tens of thousands of men of their race where, during the existence of the large plantation, employment was afforded to hundreds only, because in reality almost the entire work in his line was done by slaves. These are three most important ways in which the old class of small landed proprietors have benefited by the change in the economic system of the Southern States. With increased op- portunity for improving their pecuniary standing, it has followed that their general social condition is better than it used to be, but in no social particular as yet has the new order in the Southern rural districts become a satisfactory substitute for that old order which gave the South its social charm under slave in- stitutions. The characteristics of the ruling class of small land- owners in the country to-day which before the war was the class occupying an entirely subordinate social rank are essentially what they have always been. The prosperity of this class has THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW 55 not been sufficient as yet to allow them to make any real advance in social attractiveness; the life which they lead still removes them from the general currents of the world; they are still the primitive people, as in former times, with social qualities com- manding respect, but with none to produce a society so notable as that which passed away. Education is more general, on account of the establishment of free schools ; some social ad- vantages are enjoyed, which, under the old system, were beyond the reach of all except the rich, but in its principal features, the social condition of the rural population remains as it was when subordinated to that of the higher planting class during the existence of slavery. How entirely this latter class has vanished and how wholly the country is given over to the former lower rank in society is nowhere more conspicuous than in the rural churches. Owing to the increase of the white population, these churches are more fully attended than they ever were, but the families belonging to the old rural gentry are no longer to be seen there. A general social equality prevails among the whites in all the rural districts. In the agricultural regions, outside of the towns, there are, as yet, no means of accumulating sufficient fortune to give superiority to new families possessing talent for getting money; the old rural gentry has not been succeeded, even in a comparatively remote degree, by a new gentry which rests its claims to social distinction upon large estates acquired in recent years. In the rural district, all the tendencies are toward a further consolidation of the existing social equality among the whites, because the subdivision of the land means a further progress toward the reduction of the whole number of white in- habitants to the condition of the men who work the soil with their own hands. There are no substantial social distinctions among manual laborers of the same race. The small farmer and the small planter who are making up to an increasing extent every year the entire body of the rural white inhabitants may hold themselves a little above their white assistants who are without property, but there is no real difference in their social level. We see in the South to-day a vast rural white population, which, as a whole, stands upon the same footing, a footing of great respect- ability, but entirely devoid of those charms which made the 56 RURAL SOCIOLOGY social life of the rural gentry, during the existence of slavery, one of the most attractive in the world. What has become of the descendants of this rural gentry ? As a body they are no longer to be found in the country. While many have emigrated to other parts of the Union, the far greater number have settled in the towns of the South. All the in- fluences of the old system, as we have seen, tended directly to the discouragement of the growth of cities ; all the currents ran toward a dispersion of the population over an ever widening extent of space. It is now precisely the reverse. The drift to- ward the subdivision of land signifies a drift toward the con- centration of population. The inability of the petty landholders to produce on their own estates the artificial supplies they re- quire, has increased the importance of the local distributing and manufacturing centers, both great and small; the towns have become steadily larger each year, partly in consequence of the rising rural demand for manufactured supplies; while the villages have grown because they have drawn to themselves a greater number of tradesmen working in different departments. The comparative unprofitableness of agriculture under the present system, unless the land is cultivated by the owner with his own hands, thus cutting the expenses down to the smallest point, prompted the descendants of the old higher planting class to re- move to the Southern cities as offering a better opportunity for the improvement of their fortunes. In addition, they expected to find there the best social advantages which the new order afforded. If we go to some Southern county, which, in times of slavery was the seat of an intelligent, refined, and cultivated gentry, we shall discover that the only society there possessing any distinc- tion is centered in the courthouse town; and this society is generally made up of families of professional men whose names are amongst the most ancient .and honorable in the history of their State. The gentry of the South, from having been asso- ciated only with life in the country, have become now thoroughly identified with life in the city. The energy and ability that have built up so many Southern towns in so short a time, have been drawn, in largest measure, from a class that, before the War of Secession, visited the city only in winter and looked upon the THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW 57 country as offering all that was highest and most interesting in life to people of birth and culture. In the course of the last quarter of a century many fortunes have been made by repre- sentatives of the old rural gentry who have emigrated to the towns,, but there has been no disposition in these representatives to return to the life of their ancestors; some have purchased rural estates, but it has been for pleasure and recreation during the summer, and not for occupation throughout the year. The social life of the South now rests upon the same general foundation as the social life of the North, and as time passes the character of the one will be wholly indistinguishable from the character of the other. The country districts will be occupied exclusively by a great body of small farmers, planters, and their assistants in the field. The whole extent of the soil will become, in less than a century, so subdivided that two or three hundred acres will form the average estate. The owners of the land, by the vast increase in the rural population which will follow this subdivision, will enjoy to a far greater degree than they do at the present time all the advantages springing from a teeming community a, more frequent and more diversified social inter- course, more varied and refined amusements, a larger number of public schools, and a more thoroughly organized and more effi- cient system of public education. The towns and cities of the South, on the other hand, will become, as they have done in the North, the centers of the greatest accumulations of wealth and the seats of the highest culture and refinement. Here, as in the Northern towns and cities, society will be controlled, to an ever increasing degree, by families whose rise to social prominence has been brought about by the extraordinary talents of the men at their head for building up great fortunes. The influence of mere ancestry going back many generations, perhaps several hundred years, will grow less socially powerful in the Southern centers of population, where the ability to accumulate money already gives the highest personal consideration, just as it does in the like Northern communities to-day. The material spirit will govern the forces in Southern urban society precisely as it has always done in urban society of the North. Indeed, time will only show more clearly that the defeat of the South in the War of Secession meant the complete social unification of the United 58 RURAL SOCIOLOGY States as the inevitable result of the economic unification that followed almost immediately upon the destruction of the institu- tion of slavery. OUR CAROLINA HIGHLANDERS 1 E. C. BRANSON WHAT I shall say or try to say concerns the seventeen High- land counties of North Carolina, and the 243,000 people who dwell in this land-locked area. This is the region and these are the people I best know in our Southern mountain country. I as- sume to speak for no others. First of all I want to claim for the whole of North Carolina an identity with our mountain people. They are our very own kith, kin, and kind. They are not a peculiar people in illiteracy, poverty, degree of isolation, fiery individualism, or organ izable qualities. They differ in no essential particular from the demo- cratic mass in North Carolina in mood, humor, temper, and atti- tudes. Their economic and social problems are not regional; they are state-wide. There are no differences in kind, and few in degree, between the civilization of our hill country and that of the State as a whole. Its virtues and its deficiencies are ours, and I claim them as our own. Our civilization in North Carolina is primarily rural. Both the strength and the weakness of our democracy lie in this fact. We are saturated with a sense of equality. We stand unabashed in kingly presences. We revel in assured freedom. We have a fierce passion for self-government. We have always held high the spirit of revolt against centralized power, and we have been quick to wrest from tyranny its crown and scepter. All of which is magnificent. But we are learning that untaught and unrestrained individualism needs to develop into the wisdom and power of safe self-government. The civic and social mind sup- plants the personal and individual view of life all too slowly everywhere. i Adapted from "Extension Bureau Circular, No. 2," University of North Carolina. THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW 59 Our dwellers in the open country number 1,700,000, and they average only thirty-nine to the square mile. The ills attendant upon sparsity of population in rural regions are social isolation and insulation, raucous individualism, illit- eracy, suspicion, social aloofness, lack of organization and co- operative enterprise ; but our mountain people suffer from these deficiencies not a whit more than the people in definite areas of the tide-water country and in the State at large. Everywhere in thinly settled country regions we find people here and there who are suspicious, secretive, apathetic, and un- approachable ; who live in the eighteenth century and preserve the language, manners, and customs of a past long dead else- where, who prefer their primitive, ancient ways, who are ghet- toed in the midst of present-day civilization, to borrow a phrase from President Frost. They are the crab-like souls described by Victor Hugo in "Les Miserables," who before advancing light steadily retreat into the fringe of darkness. People like these abound in Clinton and Franklin counties (New York) where an eighth of the native white voters are illiterate, in Aroostook County (Maine) where nearly a fifth of the native white voters cannot read their ballots or write their names; in Windham County (Connecticut), where an eighth of the white males of voting age are illiterate. Windham, by the way, lies midway between the academic effulgence of Yale on the one hand and of Harvard on the other. You can find within the sound of college bells anywhere what we found the other day in a field survey that took us into every home in a mid-state county in North Carolina a family of whites all illiterate, half the children dead in infancy, and never a doctor in the house in the whole history of the family. All the ages of race history and every level of civilization can be found in any county or community, even in our crowded centers of wealth and culture. We. need not hunt for eighteenth century survivals in mountain coves alone. We shall not make headway in well-meant work in the moun- tains unless we can bring to it what Giddings calls a conscious- ness of kind. "We need to be less aware of picturesque, amusing, or distressing differences, and more keenly conscious of the kin- ship of the mountain people with their kind elsewhere and 60 RURAL SOCIOLOGY everywhere. Otherwise we shall bring to noble effort in the mountains a certain disabling attitude that is fatal to success. And so over against the types we find in the pages of Crad- dock, Fox, Kephart, and the rest, let us set the mountain people as they are related to the civilization of which they are a part. I therefore urge upon your attention the fact that they are not more poverty-stricken, nor more lawless and violent, nor more unorganizable than the democratic mass in rural North Carolina. 1. In the first place and quite contrary to popular notions, our mountains are not a region of wide-spread poverty. In per capita rural wealth Alleghany is the richest county in North Carolina. Among our 100 counties, five highland counties rank 1st, 5th, 6th, 13th, and 14th in the order named, in the per capita farm wealth of country populations; and two more are just below the state average in this particular. The people of these counties are not poor, as country wealth is reckoned in North Carolina. They dwell in a land of vegetables and fruits, grain crops, hay and forage, flocks and herds. It is a land of overflowing abundance. It is not easy for such people to feel that they are fit subjects for missionary school enterprises. As a matter of fact, they need our money far less than they need appreciative understanding and homebred leadership. Their wealth is greater than their willingness to convert it into social advantages. They need to be shown how to realize the possi- bilities of their own soils and souls. Mountain civilization, like every other, will rise to higher levels when the people them- selves tug at their own boot-straps ; and there is no other way. Approaching the poverty of our mountain people from an- other angle, let us consider indoor pauperism in 11 mountain counties that maintain county homes or poor houses. The 1910 Census discloses an average rate for the United States of 190 almshouse paupers per 100,000 inhabitants. In North Carolina the rate was 96; in these 11 highland counties it was only 79. Six of the mountain counties make a far better showing than the State at large. But we may make still another and better approach to the subject of poverty in our mountains by examining the outside pauper rates; better, because outside help is less repugnant to the feelings than residence in the poor house. In 1914 the state THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW 61 rate for outside pauperism was 234 per 100,000 inhabitants. In 12 highland counties the average rate was 205. Seven of the counties have rates far smaller than the state average, ranging from 35 in Mitchell to 184 in Cherokee ; three are just below the state average ; and only two are near the bottom. It ought to be clear that poverty in the mountains of North Carolina is actually and relatively less than elsewhere in the State. Here both indoor and outside paupers in 12 counties in 1914 numbered only 559 in a population of 209,000 souls. 2. In the second place, illiteracy among native whites in our mountains is not more distressing than white illiteracy else- where in the State. The average rate for the mountain region is 15.1 per cent., due to excessive white illiteracy rates in eight counties. More than one-seventh or 15.1 per cent, of all the white people ten years old and older in 17 mountain counties are illiterate. It is appalling; but the fact that nearly one- eighth of all the white people of these ages the whole State over are illiterate is also appalling. But nearly one-fifth or 18.5 per cent, of all our people, both races counted, are illiterate; and this fact is still more appalling. There is comfort, however, in the further fact that with a single exception North Carolina led the Union in inroads upon illiteracy during the last census pe- riod, and we are running Kentucky a close second in Moon- light Schools. Our mountain people are not peculiar, even in their illiteracy. Sparsely settled rural people are everywhere apt to be fiercely in- dividualistic, incapable of concerted effort, and unduly illiterate ; both behind and beyond mountain walls, in New York State, Maine, Connecticut, and North Carolina alike. The problems of developing democracy in our highlands, I repeat, are state-wide, not merely regional. They concern a sparsely settled rural pop- ulation, socially insulated, fiercely individualistic, unduly illit- erate, unorganized, and non-social, both in the mountains and in the State at large. 3. For instance, the bad eminence held by North Carolina in homicide rates among the 24 states of the registration area is due to the slow socialization of a population that is still nearly four- fifths rural. In 1913, we led the registration states with an urban rate of 274 homicides per million inhabitants, and a rural 62 RURAL SOCIOLOGY rate of 173, against a general rate of 72 in the registration area. I may say in passing that Virginia, Kentucky, and North Car- olina are the only southern states in the registration area, and that 24 states are all told still on the outside. Town rates are higher than country rates in twenty-one states, largely because the steady coward drift of country people in- troduces into the organized life of American towns an element that is slow to learn the lessons of social adjustment. On the other hand, the high spirited retreat into inaccessible coves be- fore advancing civilization. They climb into the high levels of the Great Smokies in Haywood, Swain, and Graham, where they settle personal difficulties in the highland style of primitive times. These counties lead the mountain region in homicide rates. These are the people, by the way, among whom Kephart dwelt and who colored his impressions of our entire mountain civilization. But just as might be expected, three of our low- land counties have just as fearful records. No, our Highlanders are not peculiar even in their fierce and fiery individualism. Human life is just as safe west of the Ridge as east of it. 4. Kephart urges that the mountain people cannot pull to- gether, except as kinsmen or partisans. "Speak to them of com- munity interests, try to show them the advantages of coopera- tion," says he, "and you might just as well be proffering advice to the North Star. They will not work together zealously even to improve their neighborhood roads. ' ' But these are the faults of sparsely settled rural populations in the mountains and on the plains alike. Nothing could be worse, for instance, than the country roads of southern Illinois in the bad winter seasons. Failure to organize and cooperate is the cardinal weakness of country people everywhere. True, there were no improved country roads in four counties west of the Ridge on January 1, 1915 ; but also, four neighbor- ing counties in the Albemarle country fall into the same category. Thirty-one of our counties in 1914 had ten per cent, or less of their public road mileage improved. Seven of these were west and twenty-four were east of the Blue Ridge. Five mountain counties are among the forty counties that made the best show- ing in the State in improved public road mileage in 1914. Avery, a mountain county with no improved roads in the last THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW 63 report, is now spending $150,000 in road construction. Our mountain counties are falling into line about as rapidly as other sections of the State. And North Carolina is doing well in high- way building. In 1914 she stood ahead of twenty-nine states in per cent, of surfaced roads, and outranked thirty-two in the expenditure of road funds locally raised. 5. As a last word in my attempt to show that our mountain conditions and problems are state-wide conditions and prob- lems, let us consider the investment made by our Highlanders in their schools and children; say, their per capita investment in country school property in the census year. In 1910 it was only $1.86 per rural inhabitant. But then, it was only $2.08 the whole State over. Seven mountain counties were well above the state average with per capita investments ranging from $2.56 in Swain, one of the three poorest counties in the State, to $4.56 in Transylvania. Our mountain counties are moving forward in rural school property about as rapidly as the rest of the State. Between 1900 and 1914 the value of such property in seventeen highland counties rose from $408,000 to $637,000, an increase of 56 per cent., against an increase of 45 per cent, in the State at large. Ashe and Yancey more than doubled their investments in rural school property during these four years. In Cherokee the in- vestment was more than trebled. And it is proper to add that under the superb leadership of Hon. J. Y. Joyner, the State School Superintendent, our State as a whole has made mar- velous gains during the last ten years in the education of all our people. As a matter of fact, these gains make a story of un- paralleled achievement. The mountain people I know are democratic by nature, high spirited, self-reliant, and proudly independent. They scorn charities, and scent patronage afar. They are not a weakling people. They are sturdy and strong in character, keenly respon- sive to fair treatment, kind hearted and loyal to friends, quick to lend help in distress; and salted unto salvation by a keen sense of humor. They are not a submerged race. They are not down and out, after a hand to hand struggle with advancing civilization. They are not victims of social mal-adjustment. They are, as yet, the 64 RURAL SOCIOLOGY unadjusted. They are not decadents like the country people in the densely populated industrial areas of the North and East. They are a coming, not a vanishing race. Their thews and sinews are strong, their brains are nimble and capable, and at bottom they are sane and sound, healthsome and wholesome, in wind and limb, body and soul. They are a hopeful element in developing democracy in North Carolina. There is immense lifting power in the people of our hill country. They need, to be sure, to be organized for economic, civic, and social efficiency ; but this need is state-wide, not merely regional. The Highlanders have long been a segregated, unmixed ethnic group a homogeneous mass without organic unity. Miss Emma Miles, herself a mountaineer, says in "The Spirit of the Mountains," " There is no such thing as a community of moun- taineers. Our people are almost incapable of concerted action. We are a people yet asleep, a race without consciousness of its own existence." All of which means that here is a social mass that lacks social solidarity. It lacks the unity in variety and the variety in unity that social development demands in any group of people. A fundamental need .in the mountains is an influx of new people with new ideas and enterprises. The homogeneity of our Highlanders has long been a liability, not an asset. Appalachia needs the mingling of race types. The English Midlands offer an illustration in point. Here is where the Cymric, Pictish, and Irish tribes of Celts struggled for long centuries with the Anglo- Saxons, Danes, and Scandinavians. Here they finally coalesced, and here is the seed-bed of national supremacy in intellect. Here is the England of Shakespeare, Macaulay, Ruskin, and George Eliot, Hogarth, Turner and Burne- Jones, Watt, Hamil- ton, and Farraday. But a new era is at hand in our hill country. Industrialism is rapidly invading and occupying this region. The timber, min- eral, and water power treasures of the mountains have at last challenged the attention of organized big business. The blare of steam whistles, the boom of dynamite, the whir of machinery, the miracle of electric lights and telephones, the bustle of busi- ness in growing cities announce an economic revolution in our mountain country. Industrial enterprises will introduce the THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW 65 needed elements of population. They demand railway connec- tions with the outside world. Automobiles in increasing num- bers demand improved public highways. This economic revolu- tion will mean better schools, stronger newspapers, another type of religious consciousness, and a more liberal social life. The industrial transformation of Appalachia has begun, and the next generation of Highlanders will be well in the middle of this new era. We ought to keep clearly in mind a concern of primary im- portance to the mountain people. The question, says President Frost, is whether the mountain people can be enlightened and guided so that they can have a part in the development of their own country, or whether they must give place to aliens and melt away like the Indians of an earlier day. That is to say, both the church and the school problems are fundamentally economic and social. The highest values, of course, are spiritual. As invading industrialism turns into gold the natural resources of these mountains, will it enhance the value of their largest asset the men and women of the hill country ? THE RURAL NEGRO AND THE SOUTH * BOOKER T. WASHINGTON OF the nine million Negroes, or nearly that number, in the South, about seven million are in the rural districts. They are on the farm, the plantation, and in the small town. They in- clude 80 per cent, of the whole Negro population in the South, the great bulk of the Negro population in America, in fact. Of this seven million it is safe to say that 2,200,000 persons are actually working, either as hired hands, tenant farmers, crop- pers, or renters and independent owners, upon the land. This number includes women and children, for, on the farm and the plantation, the unit of labor is not the individual but the fam- ily, and in the South to-day Negro women still do a large part of the work in the fields. i Adapted from "Proceedings of the National Conference of Charities and Corrections," Memphis, Tenn., May, 1014, pp. 121-127. 66 RURAL SOCIOLOGY People who live in the cotton growing States know that a very large part of the business of those states is based on the Negro and the mule. In the South, when a planter wants to borrow money, he finds his credit at the bank is usually determined by the number of reliable Negro tenants he can control ; business is based on labor. In other words, the value of the land and of all that goes with it and depends upon it, is determined very largely, more largely, perhaps, than is true of any other part of the country, by the character and quantity of the labor supply. The two million and more Negroes who are employed in agri- culture in the Southern States have in their hands, either as renters or as owners, 40 per cent, of the tillable land. Some- thing like 100,000,000 of the 150,000,000 acres of improved land is cultivated by Negro labor, and of every eleven bales of cotton produced in the South, seven are raised by Negroes. The Negro is here and he is likely to remain. First, because after something like three hundred years he has adapted him- self to the country and the people ; because experience has taught him that, on the whole, the vast majority of the Negroes are more at home and better off in the agricultural regions of the South than they are likely to be in any other part of the world; and finally because the Southern white man does not want him to go away. You may say what you please about segregation of the races, but when there is work to be done about the plantation, when it comes time to plant and pick the cotton, the white man does not want the Negro so far away that he cannot reach him by the sound of his voice. At the present time Negroes in the rural districts represent, in some respects, the best portion of the Negro race. They are for the most part a vigorous, wholesome, simple-minded people. They are, as yet, almost untouched by the vices of city life, and still maintain, on the whole, their confidence in the good will of the white people by whom they are surrounded. These seven million people represent, therefore, tremendous possibilities for good and for evil to themselves, and the com- munity in which they live. From an economic view alone, this large actual and potential labor force represents a vast store of undeveloped wealth, a gold mine of productive energy, in fact. THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW 67 Imported to this country at an enormous cost in suffering and in money; trained and disciplined during two hundred and fifty years of slavery, and now waiting to be developed, under the in- fluences of free institutions, the Negro is one of the great nat- ural resources of this southern community. This being so, the prosperity of the South is very largely bound up with the latent possibilities of the Negro. Just in proportion as he becomes an efficient farmer and a dependable laborer, just to that extent will the whole country move forward and prosperity be multi- plied. If Negro labor is to become more efficient, every effort should be made to encourage rather than to discourage the Negro in his ambition to go forward, to buy land and plant himself perma- nently on the soil. In the long run the planter will not suffer from the existence in his neighborhood of Negro farmers who offer an example of thrift and industry to their neighbors. For example, Macon County, in which I live, was the only one of the Black Belt counties of Alabama which showed an increase of Negro population in the decade from 1900 to 1910. The rea- son was that a special effort had been made in that county to improve the public schools and this brought into the county a large number of progressive farmers who were anxious to own homes in the neighborhood of a good school. G. W. McLeod, who owns a large tract of land in Macon County, Alabama, is a good example of the white planter who treats his tenants well. Mr. McLeod believes in having a good school in the community, so he gave an acre of ground upon which the school house was built and $100 in addition to help put up the $700 school house. He deeded the land to a set of colored trustees. Mr. McLeod also offers annual prizes for the best kept stock, best kept houses, best cared for children, best attendance at Sunday school and church. The man or woman guilty of taking intoxicating liquors or engaging in family quar- rels is not eligible to prizes and must go at the end of the year. Mr. McLeod by this method of dealing with his tenants has little if any trouble in finding profitable tenants for his lands. Not only does he find that this policy pays in cash, but he has the satisfaction of seeing around him people who are prosperous 68 RURAL SOCIOLOGY and contented, who are every year making progress, who are growing in intelligence, ambition and the knowledge of all those things which make life worth living. From direct investigation I find that many valuable colored laborers leave the farm for the reason that they seldom see or handle cash. The Negro laborer likes to put his hands on real money as often as possible. In the cit3 r , while he is not so well off in the long run, as I have said, he is usually paid off in cash every Saturday night. In the country he seldom gets cash oftener than once a month, or once a year. Not a few of the best colored laborers leave the farms because of the poor houses furnished by the owners. The condition of some of the one- room cabins is miserable almost beyond description. In the towns and cities, while he may have a harder time in other re- spects, the colored man can usually find a reasonably comfortable house with two or three rooms. No matter how ignorant a colored man may be himself, he al- most always wants his children to have education. A very large number of colored laborers leave the farm because they can not get an education for their children. In a large section of the farming district of the South, Negro schools run only from two to five months in the year. In many cases children have to walk miles to reach these schools. The school houses are, in most cases, wretched little hovels with no light or warmth or comfort of any kind. The teacher receives perhaps not more than $18 or $25 a month, and as every school superintendent knows, poor pay means a poor teacher. In saying this, I do not overlook the fact that conditions are changing for the better in all parts of the South. White people are manifesting more interest each year in the training of col- ored people, and what is equally important, colored people are beginning to learn to use their education in sensible ways ; they are learning that it is no disgrace for an educated person to work on the farm. They are learning that education which does not somehow touch life is not education at all. More and more we are all learning that the school is not simply a place, where boys and girls learn to read and cipher ; but a place where they learn to live. We are all learning that education which does not somehow or other improve the farm and the home, which THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW 69 does not make a return to the community in some form or other, has no justification for its existence. The possibilities of the Negro farmer are indicated by the progress that he has made in fifty years. In 1863 there were in all the United States only a few farms owned by Negroes. They now (1910) operate in the South 890,140 farms which are 217,800 more than there were in this section in 1863. Negro farm laborers and Negro farmers in the South now cultivate approximately 100,000,000 acres of land, of which 42,- 500,000 acres are under the control of Negro farmers. The in- crease of Negro farm owners in the past fifty years compares favorably with the increase of white farm owners. The Negroes of this country now own 20,000,000 acres or 31,000 square miles of land. If all the land they own were placed in one body, its area would be greater than that of the state of South Carolina. The Negro has made his greatest progress in agriculture dur- ing the past ten years. Prom 1900 to 1910 the total value of farm property owned by the colored farmers of the South in- creased from $177,404,688 to $492,898,218, or 177 per cent. In view of all this it seems to me that it is the part of wisdom to take hold of this problem in a broad, statesmanlike way. In- stead of striving to keep the Negro down, we should devote the time and money and effort that is now used for the purpose of punishing the Negro for crimes, committed in many instances because he has been neglected and allowed to grow up in ig- norance without ambition and without hope and use it for the purpose of making the Negro a better and more useful citizen. FOLLOWING THE COLOR LINE 1 RAY STANNARD BAKER GENERALLY speaking, the sharpest race prejudice in the South is exhibited by the poorer -class of white people, whether far- mers, artisans or unskilled workers, who come into active com- petition with the Negroes, or from politicians who are seeking i Adapted from "Following the Color Line," American Magazine, 64: 381-393, July, 1907. 70 RURAL SOCIOLOGY the votes of this class of people. It' is this element which has driven the Negroes out of more than one community in the South and it commonly forms the lynching mobs. A similar an- tagonism of the working classes exists in the North wherever the Negro has appeared in large numbers. On the other hand, the larger land owners and employers of the South, and all professional and business men who hire servants, while they dislike and fear the Negro as a race (though often loving and protecting individual Negroes), want the black man to work for them. More than that, they must have him: for he has a practical monopoly on labor in the South. White men of the employing class will do almost anything to keep the Negro on the land and his wife in the kitchen so long as they are obedient and unambitious workers. But I had not been very long in the black belt before I began to see that the large planters the big employers of labor often pursued very different methods in dealing with the Negro. In the feudal Middle Ages there were good and bad barons; so in the South to-day there are "good" and "bad" landlords (for lack of better designation) and every gradation between them. The good landlord, generally speaking, is the one who knows by inheritance how a feudal system should be operated. In other words, he is the old slave-owner or his descendant, who not only feels the ancient responsibility of slavery times, but believes that the good treatment of tenants, as a policy, will produce better results than harshness and force. The bad landlord represents the degeneration of the feudal system: he is in farming to make all he can out of it this year and next, without reference to human life. Conditions in the black belt are in one respect much as they were in slavery times, or as they would be under any feudal system : if the master or lord is * ' good, ' ' the Negro prospers ; if he is harsh, grasping, unkind, the Negro suffers bitterly. It gets back finally to the white man. In assuming supreme rights in the South, political and industrial, the white man also as- sumes tremendous duties and responsibilities ; he cannot have the one without the other ; and he takes to himself the pain and suf- fering which goes with power and responsibility. Of course, scarcity of labor and high wages have given the THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW 71 really ambitious and industrious Negro his opportunity, and many thousands of them are becoming more and more inde- pendent of the favor or the ill-will of the whites. And therein lies a profound danger, not only to the Negro, but to the South. Gradually losing the support and advice of the best type of white man, the independent Negro finds himself in competition with the poorer types of white man, whose jealousy he must meet. He takes the penalties of being really free. Escaping the exac- tions of a feudal life, he finds he must meet the sharper diffi- culties of a free industrial system. And being without the po- litical rights of his poor white competitor and wholly without social recognition, discredited by the bestial crimes of the lower class of his own race, he has, indeed, a hard struggle before him. In many neighborhoods he is peculiarly at the mercy of this lower class white electorate, and the self-seeking politicians whose stock in trade consists in playing upon the passions of race-hatred. When the Negro tenant takes up land or hires out to the landlord, he ordinarily signs a contract, or if he cannot sign (about half the Negro tenants of the black belt are wholly illiterate) he makes his mark. He often has no way of know- ing certainly what is in the contract, though the arrangement is usually clearly understood, and he must depend on the landlord to keep both the rent and the supply-store accounts. In other words, he is wholly at the planter's mercy a temptation as dan- gerous for the landlord as the possibilities which it presents are for the tenant. It is so easy to make large profits by charging immense interest percentages or outrageous prices for supplies to tenants who are too ignorant or too weak to protect them- selves, that the stories of the oppressive landlord in the South are scarcely surprising. It is easy, when the tenant brings in his cotton in the fall not only to underweigh it, but to credit it at the lowest prices of the week ; and this dealing of the strong with the weak is not Southern, it is human. Such a system has encouraged dishonesty, and wastefulness ; it has made many land- lords cruel and greedy, it has increased the helplessness, hope- lessness and shiftlessness of the Negro. In many cases it has meant downright degeneration, not only to the Negro, but to the white man. These are strong words, but no one can travel 72 RURAL SOCIOLOGY in the black belt without seeing enough to convince him of the terrible consequences growing out of these relationships. I made inquiries as to why the Negroes wanted to leave the farms and go to cities. The answer I got from all sorts of sources was, first, the lack of schooling in the country; and, second, the lack of protection. And I heard also many stories of ill-treatment of various sorts, the distrust of the tenant of the landlord in keeping his accounts all of which, dimly recognized, tends to make many Negroes escape the country, if they can. Indeed, it is growing harder and harder on the great plantations, especially where the management is by overseers, to keep a sufficient labor supply. In some places the white landlords have begun to break up their plantations, selling small farms to ambitious Negroes a signifi- cant sign, indeed, of the passing of the feudal system. Comment- ing on this tendency, the Thomaston Post says : "This is, in part, a solution of the so-called Negro problem, for those of the race who have property interests at stake cannot afford to antagonize their white neighbors or transgress the laws. The ownership of land tends to make them better citi- zens in every way, more thoughtful of the rights of others, and more ambitious for their own advancement. The tendency to- wards cutting up the large plantations is beginning to show itself, and when all of them are so divided, there will be no agricultural labor problem, except, perhaps, in the gathering of an especially large crop." BIBLIOGRAPHY THE SOUTH Branson, E. C. Farm Life Conditions in the South. Chapel Hill, N. C. The Church as a Country Life Defense. Branson, E. C. Rural Life in the South. Am. Statistical Ass'n., Pub. 13:71-75, March, 1912. Brooks, Robert P. The Agrarian Revolution in Georgia, 1865-1912. Univ. Wis., Madison, Hist. Series, Vol. 3, No. 3. Bruce, P. A. Economic History of Virginia, in the Seventeenth Cen- tury. Macmillan, N. Y., 1896. Bruce, P. A. The Rise of the New South. Barrie, Philadelphia. The Hist, of North America, V. 17, 1905. Bogart, E. L. The Economic History of the United States. Long- mans, N. Y., 1907. Cable, George W. Old Creole Days. Scribner, N. Y., 1907. Cable, George W. The Creoles of Louisiana. Scribner, N. Y., 1884. THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW 73 Coulter, John Lee. The Rural South. Am. Statistical Ass'n., 13 : 45- 58, March, 1912. DuBois, W. E. The Rural South. Am. Statistical Ass'n., 13:80-4, March, 1912. Dunning, W. A. Essays on the Civil War and Reconstruction. Mac- millan, N. Y., 1898. Dyer, G. W. Southern Problems that Challenge our Thought. South- ern Sociological Congress Proceedings, pp. 25-37, Nashville, Tenn., 1912. Frissell, H. B. Southern Agriculture and the Negro Farmer. Am. Statistical Ass'n., 13 : 65-70, March, 1912. Glasson, Wm. H. Rural Conditions in the South. Am. Statistical Ass'n., 13: 76-79, March, 1912. Gray, Lewis. Southern Agriculture, Plantation System and the Negro ^Problem. Annals, 40 : 90-99, March, 1912. Hale, Louise Closser. We Discover the Old Dominion. Dodd, N. Y., 1916. Haney, Lewis H., and Wehrwein, George S. A Social and Economic Survey of Southern Travis County. Univ. of Texas Bui., 65, Aus- tin, 1916. MacClintock, S. S. The Kentucky Mountains and Their Feuds. Amer. Jour, of Soc., 7:171-187. September, 1901. Page, Walter H. Journey Through the Southern States. World's Work, 14 : 9003-9028, June, 1907. Kephart, Horace. Our Southern Highlanders. Macmillan, N. Y., 1913. Olmstead, Frederick L. The Cotton Kingdom. Mason, N. Y., 1862. Olmstead, Frederick L. Journey in the Seaboard Slave States. Put- nam, N. Y., 1904. Page, Thomas Nelson. Red Rock. 'Scribner, N. Y., 1898. Southern Agriculture, its Conditions and Needs. Pop. Sci. Mo., 64: 245-261, January, 1904. Southern Soc. Congress. Proceedings. Nashville, Tenn. Stone, A. H. Studies in the American Race Problem. Doubleday, Garden City, 1908. Vincent, George E. A Retarded Frontier. Amer. Journal Sociology, 4:1-20, July, 1898. Waldo, Frank. Among the Southern Appalachians. New England Mag., 14:231-247, n. s., May, 1901. THE NEGRO Baker, Ray Stannard. Following the Color Line. Doubleday, Page & Co., Garden City, 1908. Commons, John R. Races and Immigrants in America. The Macmil- lan Company, N. Y., 1908. DuBois, W. E. B. The Souls of Black Folk. A. C. McClurg & Co., Chicago, 1907. Douglass, H. Paul. Christian Reconstruction in the South. The Pil- grim Press, Boston, 1909. Dunbar, Paul Laurence. Lyrics of Lowly Life. Dodd, Mead & Co., N. Y., 1896. 74 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Hart, Albert Bushnell. The Southern South. Appleton, N. Y., 1910. Haynes, George Edmund. The Negro at Work in New York City, a Study in Economic Progress. Columbia Univ. Studies in History, Economics, and Public Law, Vol. 49, No. 3 (Whole No. 124), N. Y., 1912. Horwill, Herbert W. Negro Exodus. Contemporary Review, 114: 299-305, Sept., 1918. Miller, Kelly. The Negro's Part in Racial Cooperation in the Com- munity. Conf. Social Work, 1918, pp. 481-85. Negro Education. U. S. Bur. of Ed. Bui., 1916, Nos. 38 and 39, Vols. I and II. Negro Migration in 1916-17. Bui. U. S. Dept. of Labor, Div. of Negro Economics, Gov't. Printing Of., Washington, 1919. Negro Rural School and its Relation to the Community. The Extension Department, Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, Tuskegee, Ala., 1915. Wolfe, Albert B. The Negro Problem in the United States. In Read- ings in Social Problems, Book V. Grim & Co., Boston, 1916. CHAPTER IV THE IMMIGRANT IN AGRICULTURE IMMIGRATION .IN AGRICULTURE 1 JOHN OLSEN AT the beginning of the nineteenth century the United States found itself in possession of vast undeveloped resources, which were tremendously increased by successful purchases and an- nexations in the course of the century. To secure the rapid de- velopment of these resources the government not only threw them open to unrestricted development by private enterprise but even encouraged such development by public assistance. As a result of such a policy public lands of apparently unlimited extent and enormous fertility were offered to any one at a nominal expense. Later the land acts were multiplied so that any individual could obtain 480 acres of virgin territory. Fur- thermore this policy of encouraging private enterprise led to the extension of the means of communication so that these not only accompanied but in many cases preceded the growth of the settlement. Thus access to the splendid public demesne was assured. The temptation to enter premises so promising could not be suppressed by the unfavorable attitude at first assumed by for- eign governments. Consequently a steady stream of immigrants commenced flowing into this country. Even though separated by political boundaries the English, Scotch, Welsh, and Irish still felt that the states were peculiarly their own. Soon the wanderlust of the Germans, the Danes, the Swedes, and the Nor- wegians led them to the same destination. There were also some Swiss and Dutch and a few from southern and eastern Europe in this first wave which we shall designate the Old Immigration. i Adapted from a paper prepared by a graduate student in the Editor's Class in the University of Minnesota, summer 1917. 75 76 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Of the motives which actuated this immigration, the religious and political, which had been very important, were rapidly diminishing in influence. In general, hard times in their own country due to crop failures and fluctuations in industry pre- ceded the great waves of emigrants. This statement applies prin- cipally to Ireland and Scandinavia although there were serious crop failures in Germany, for example the one in Baden in 1825. The famines in Ireland, however, surpassed all. The first one occurred in 1826. Far more serious was the one due to potato rot in 1846-7. As a result emigration and death reduced the population 50 per cent. At the same time the general prosperity, which, with the ex- ception of brief periods designated as panics, continued unin- terruptedly throughout the century in this country, presented an attractive antithesis. The liberality of our land laws invited any foreigner to become a partaker of our prosperity since they afforded him the opportunity either of securing a farm of his own or of employment at good wages. The tariff, the invention of new machinery, and the rapid development of new industries were auxiliary forces tending at least temporarily to the better- ment of the conditions of the laborers. The increasing facili- ties of communication enabled the foreigner to compare the op- portunities of the New World with those of the Old. Advertis- ing campaigns by the states and especially by private enterprises, such as steamship companies, railways, and other American in- dustrial organizations, which previous to the passage of the Anti-Contract Immigration Law were absolutely unrestricted, tended to create a favorable impression. Most influential of all were letters from countrymen already in America. Of course there were also a number of other auxiliary causes. Such were the improved facilities of reaching our country, the financial assistance which foreigners settled here could render in enabling relatives to come, and the dread caused by wars and epidemics in the densely populated communities of Europe. Back of all these, however, lay the prime psychological instinct which has been back of all Teutonic migrations in historical times, the desire for -adventure the Teutonic wanderlust. Of these immigrants a relatively large percentage engaged in agriculture. Of the total number of males of foreign origin THE IMMIGRANT 77 about 30 per cent, belong to the English-speaking races. They are distributed fairly equitably throughout the North Central, Eastern, and Western states although their main strength is in the first group. This distribution is also true of the Germans. They are the most important people belonging to this group, including 775,175 males or 28 per cent, out of a total of 2,- 105,766. In direct contrast are the Scandinavians, of whom a far greater percentage, 44 per cent, of the Danes and 50 per cent, of the Norwegians, are engaged in agriculture. Although found throughout all of the above-mentioned sections, by far the greatest percentage of those engaged in agriculture are found in the North Central states. This concentration is most marked in the case of the Norwegians, of whom 97 per cent, of those in agriculture are found in that section and Washington. Their total number is only 140,000. Nevertheless by further concen- tration in Wisconsin, Minnesota, North Dakota, South Dakota, Illinois, and Iowa within the North Central section they trans- form those states into a veritable Norway in America. The Danes, on the other hand, scatter so that it is difficult to point out a single large and well-defined Danish settlement, while the Swedes may be termed the compromisers, neither scattering as much as the Danes nor concentrating as much as the Nor- wegians. These settlers were further reinforced by a few Ice- landers. The natives assumed a by no means favorable attitude towards those who were entering into competition with them; but the newcomers were on a quest for homes which nothing except absolute prohibition could prevent. In this search the similarity of conditions in the various sections of America to those of their former habitats was their principal guide. Thus the Germans selected the timber lands of the Northwest; the Norwegians the rough and hilly lands; the Irish the well-wa- tered meadows. This conception that agriculture in America must necessarily resemble their own in Europe was not always fortunate. Since agricultural conditions in Ireland were wretched, it deterred a large number of the Irish from going on the land. As a result only 354 out of every 10,000 Irish own farm homes while 611 of the Germans, 717 of the Scan- dinavians, and 721 of the British do. The immigrants were, of course, influenced by other considerations also. Some had 78 RURAL SOCIOLOGY friends or relatives in certain localities. Industrious land agents were always portraying the splendid advantages of the sections in which they were interested. The building of the railways facilitated immigration both by providing better markets and also by familiarizing laborers with the conditions in the unset- tled sections. Sometimes events which ought to be condemned had fortunate results. During the canal mania Illinois became virtually bankrupt. As a result it paid its Irish laborers with so-called canal scrip. The only thing for which this was ac- ceptable was land. Consequently a number of the Irish invested in land and became permanent settlers. The presence of the Negro in the South caused the foreigners to avoid that section. It is only in recent years that the in- creasing demand for labor in order that the South may develop its resources has met with any distinct response. Of those that are testing the possible opportunities there the Swedes, Germans, and Irish are foremost. The exhaustion of the public demesne forces the immigrants into such new channels. Thus the neg- lected and abandoned lands of the Middle Atlantic and New Eng- land states are now being put into cultivation. Among those who utilize this opportunity the Irish, Swedes, Finns, Norwe- gians, Dutch, Germans and Poles are the leaders. The success of these settlers has depended largely on the type of settlement formed. The joint stock company proved a failure in promoting settling. Money-making and colonization would not go together. Communistic enterprises also proved ephem- eral. More promising were the religious, philanthropic, and national enterprises, especially when they were provided with ample funds. In the case of the Irish, the Catholic church tried to promote colonization. A priest was the first sent so as to secure effective religious services. The Germans tried to direct their emigrants to definite sections so that they might be Ger- manized. In case the expectation that the United States would break up had been realized those settlements would then have become independent states. The chief of these attempts cen- tered in Wisconsin and Texas. All of these attempts failed, principally on account of mismanagement. Nor was it advis- able in the earliest period for an immigrant to start out alone. Great suffering frequently resulted. The best plan was for the THE IMMIGRANT 79 settlers to settle in groups, but each one independent of all the others. Germans and Scandinavians often did this following the instructions either of friends already settled in that locality or of an agent sent in advance to ascertain conditions there. These settlers came from the agricultural sections of Europe. Consequently their success depended on their ability to adapt themselves to American methods. That such success has been attained will be questioned by no one who has compared the rude conditions of the pioneer with those of to-day. Since the great majority settled in the North Central States, they engaged in general farming. In this type of farming the Scandinavians and Germans are leaders. The Danes are noted for their suc- cess in butter-making and dairying. The Scandinavians are more likely to waste the fertility of the land than the Germans, who maintain it through the rotation of crops and the applica- tion of fertilizers. Wisconsin is the example of German success just as Utah is of English. The fortunate choice of land con- tributed to German success while the Welsh succeeded in spite of an unfortunate choice. The success of the immigrant is by no means confined to general farming. The Germans raise grapes in California and carry on truck-raising and dairying in Georgia. Together with the Irish they raise rice and other southern prod- ucts in Louisiana, Florida, and Alabama. The Scandinavians raise grapes in Alabama and truck and fruits in New Jersey. The German-Russians are especially successful in the beet sugar sections of Nebraska and the Swiss in the cheese industry in Wisconsin. Those w ( hom we ought to praise the most are the Dutch who undertake the reclamation of our lowlands. The best proof of the superiority of the foreign to the native farmer is that the latter is yielding. The Germans and Irish are se- curing control of the farm lands of New Jersey, the Scandinav- ians are replacing the natives in Vermont, the Germans are re- placing them in New York, and the Poles in Massachusetts. The desirability of the immigrant does not, however, depend principally on his ability to accumulate wealth. If such ac- cumulation is accompanied by a lowering of the American standard of living, he is undesirable. Among our foreign set- tlers we find the food simple, the clothes cheap and coarse. These features seem inevitable in a frontier community. If, 80 RURAL SOCIOLOGY however, they are retained after the community passes the frontier stage, the settlers are undesirable. As soon, however, as the immigrants from northwestern Europe passed that stage, they commenced imitating American customs. During the pioneer days any make-shift for a house had to be satisfactory. Now substantial houses are found almost everywhere. The early settlers had to work excessively hard to attain success. With the increase of prosperity they have ceased to do this. A very influential reason that the Germans, Scandinavians, and certain minor groups of foreigners outdistanced the natives was that among the former the women and children did a great deal of outdoor labor. The generation born in this country do not put the women and children in the fields. Thus in general the earlier immigrants are conforming to American standards. Foreigners on the farms are easily assimilated. The main factor against assimilation is religion. This statement does not, of course, apply to the English-speaking peoples who belong in general to the same church as the natives. Other nationalities couple their language very closely with their forms of worship. They therefore try to maintain schools in their own language. Such attempts fail because of the preference on the part of the young for the English schools and also because a large number of the older people realize the paramount importance of Eng- lish. Attempts were made by the conservatives to introduce their languages into the public schools. With the exception of Ohio and Pennsylvania where the Germans succeeded in intro- ducing German such efforts have been failures everywhere. In the schools these peoples rank high. In fact the literacy of the Scandinavian immigrant has been higher than that of the North- erners as a whole. Their inclination is indicated by the large number of Germans and Scandinavians who engage in educa- tional work. To obtain public land they had to become nat- uralized. Later the questions of local government naturally aroused interest in politics. The English on account of their previous acquaintance with our political customs excelled. The others, however, were also used to fairly democratic institutions so that they were not at such a great disadvantage. But they have been rather indifferent in this respect except where they have composed practically the entire population and therefore THE IMMIGRANT 81 have been forced to participate. The Germans, as a matter of fact, looked on politics as a burdensome duty. Many thought abstinence from American politics creditable on account of the questionable character of the methods employed. The one ex- ception is the Norwegian. He is a natural politician. He in- sists on his right to be recognized, and where due recognition is not voluntarily given he organizes to secure it. The most cred- itable feature of the engagement in politics of any of these for- eigners is that they have generally worked for cleaner politics. Although with the exception of the Irish they are generally Re- publicans, they are by no means bound to the party. Exercis- ing their right of independent thinking they make their vote depend on the issues. The final criterion of the desirability of the immigrant is his character. The earlier immigrants were noted for their indus- try, economy, and frugality. Upon their arrival in this country they frequently developed an initiative and self-reliance which had previously been entirely unsuspected. Even the Irish, al- though those of them who sought the cities have been denounced severely, have proven very desirable on the farm. Further- more ethnically nearly all of the earlier immigrants belonged to the same Teutonic stock as the natives. The wearing off of the clannishness of the foreigner and the appreciation by the Amer- ican of his sterling qualities was followed by rapid assimila- tion. During the greater part of the nineteenth century inadequate transportation facilities prevented a considerable number of im- migrants from southern and eastern Europe from entering the United States. Towards the close of the century, these facilities were improved so as to equal those from northwestern Europe. As a result, a vast number of immigrants from the former sec- tions began to arrive. Simultaneously immigration from north- western Europe decreased both because of the severe strain of the competition with the newer immigration and also because the settling of the United States and the industrial improve- ments of northwestern Europe had eliminated the advantages of the former. The turning point in immigration was about 1890. Since that time the bulk of the immigrants have been Jews, Italians, Portuguese, Poles, Bohemians, and Slovaks. 82 RURAL SOCIOLOGY With the exception of the Jew all of these are laboring under the most undesirable economic circumstances at home. Out- of-date industrial organization together with the dense popula- tion makes the United States seem the Isle of Bliss. The Jew, on the other hand, although able through his innate shrewdness to attain an independent economic status, is prevented from doing so by the racial and religious prejudices of the people. This is especially true of Russia and Rumania, from which we obtain the mass of our Jewish immigrants. That such emigra- tion is not due to economic hardships is perfectly clear in the case of the latter country, from which practically only Jews emi- grate while the Rumanians remain at home. That the Teutonic Americans would not look with as much pleasure upon the Slavs, Latins, and Jews as they did upon the entrance of the earlier immigrants who were of their own race can be explained as being due to unconscious race prejudice. It can not be said that the recent immigrant is very inferior morally. It is true that petty thefts occur frequently in Italian settlements and that the number of lawsuits in Polish settle- ments is extraordinarily large. The latter fact is largely due to the preference on the part of the Poles to settle personal differ- ence involving trifling amounts in court rather than out of court as Americans do. None of the excessive criminal tend- encies which exist among these peoples in the cities extend to the rural communities. In these communities the Italians and Slavs utilize all their time and in the case of farm owners and tenants every available inch of land. They are very frugal. The opposition they meet from business men may be largely due to their hesitation to spend. That they do not devote the land around their houses to trees and flowers, which is often explained as indicating a lack of the appreciation of beauty, may probably be just as much due to this characteristic whether we call it frugality or parsimony. The Jew, on the other hand, meets a much heartier welcome from the business world on account of his inclination to spend. He is not as industrious as the Slavs or Italians. Even in the rural communities his trading propensity often causes him to devote a part of his time to it. The decrease in the number of immigrants that engage in agri- culture may not be entirely due to the change in the type of im- THE IMMIGRANT 83 migrants but also to economic changes in the United States in connection with the exhaustion of the public demesne and the more intense industrial development. In fact this change had already commenced in the case of the earlier immigrants. For example a lower percentage of the Scandinavians engaged in agriculture after 1880 than before. To a large extent it is due to the foreigners' ignorance of the opportunities in agriculture, the uncertainty of the returns, and the isolated condition of American farm life. The friends and relatives of the recent immigrant are in the cities and thither he goes. With the ex- ception of a few in Wisconsin we find the Italian farmers in New England, Middle Atlantic and Southern states, the Slavs are found in New England, Pennsylvania, and the East North Central and the West South Central states; the Jews in New England, New York, and New Jersey; and the Portuguese in Massachusetts and Rhode Island. Most of these peoples have been in America too short a time to enable us to make definite conclusions as to their ability to conform to our customs. The third generation seems almost Americanized. Upon their entrance here they retain their typi- cal food and clothes. Soon they find Old World styles and cus- toms inconvenient and commence imitating the Americans. They seem content, however, with the cheapest and coarsest food and care little about its preparation. In selecting clothes they often retain their predilection for gaudy colors. Of course, the custom depends on the people. In general the Latins represent the lowest type, the Slavs the middle, and the Jews the highest. The Portuguese are considerably lower than the Italians. The Bohemians stand foremost among the Slavs, showing a distinct preference for good living and good clothes whenever they are financially able to afford them. The same general tendencies are observed in the case of houses. The Portuguese, Italians, and a number of the Slavic peoples manage in shacks with gardens right up to the walls. The Bohemians and Jews are eager for more substantial dwellings. Many of these peoples care for cleanliness and neatness neither outside or nor within their houses. Nevertheless the Portuguese on Martha's Vineyard, who are considered one of the lowest races in social standards, have well-kept gardens and even some flowers around their houses. 84 RURAL SOCIOLOGY One reason for the ill-prepared food and the lack of tidiness is undoubtedly that the women and children must work so much in the fields. The entire family spends all the available time out- doors. Their poverty compels this, consequently these condi- tions are bound to continue until these peoples have accumulated a surplus sufficient to afford them some leisure. Another result of this hard work is the neglect of education, a tendency furthered by an inclination to under-estimate its value. In their own countries the educational facilities are very de- ficient, thus accounting for the high percentage of illiteracy among them. Since religion and education -are very closely asso- ciated among them they prefer sending their children to the Catholic parochial schools in which a minimum emphasis is placed on English education. Furthermore they are not accus- tomed to democratic institutions. Therefore it is not surprising that they take little interest in politics. No free public lands act as a spur. Gradually but very slowly they are commencing to take interest in local affairs. Participation in these will un- doubtedly broaden their conception until they extend their at- tention to state and national affairs. Here again lies a danger. Hitherto they have generally acted as a group, following certain leaders. If these leaders should happen to be unscrupulous, the result would be detrimental. The exception is again the Jew. He realized the value of education, and succeeds well in educa- tional lines. In politics he acts independently although gov- erned by a strong race-consciousness. On account of their poverty and the absence of free public lands, a large number of these immigrants become tenants and laborers. Practically all the Portuguese labor in the cranberry bogs where they have become almost indispensable. The Slavic laborer is very subservient while the Italian is inclined to shirk if he is not closely supervised. Their type of agriculture differs from that of the earlier immigrant with respect to the average acreage. A large number have five acres or less while very few have eighty which may be considered the minimum holding of the earlier immigrant. On account of the smaller holdings there are also fewer general farmers. The agricultural conditions of their own countries would lead us to expect small scale farming. The products raised depend, of course, on the section in which THE IMMIGRANT 85 they are located. They raise tobacco, cotton, truck, and fruit. The Italian especially may be called the truck and fruit-grower. Their bank accounts are small because they invest their surplus in additional land. Consequently the steady growth in their acreage is an accurate index to their prosperity. Such pros- perity is, however, due to lower standards of living rather than to improved methods of farming. They still prefer hand-labor to machinery. They make only slight use of fertilizers. Again the Jew is the exception. He is a farm owner and does not hesi- tate to invest in machinery and fertilizers. In fact he tends to go to the other extreme. His outlays are often unwise. More- over, he likes to undertake side occupations. As a result it fre- quently happens that he does not prosper on the farm. This condition is the more surprising because he has had more out- side assistance than any of the others. The best managed effort for that purpose has been the one financed by the Baron de Hirsch fund. In fact the Jew would probably never have at- tempted agriculture to any 'considerable extent if it had not been for these efforts. The result has been a few colonies of rather impractical farmers. Colonization efforts in the case of the other immigrants have frequently been mismanaged and have failed unless each one has been given sole possession of his property. Such settlements differ considerably from the group settlements of the earlier immigrants in that each one is far more dependent on the others socially. Recently the impression has been growing that too many un- desirable immigrants are being admitted. To remedy this de- fect a literacy test has been provided. The protection which such restrictive legislation will afford American capital and labor will undoubtedly be temporary. Far more important is the question whether we can assimilate the hordes which are entering. As indicated above, the number entering has in- creased so rapidly in the last few years that the result is doubt- ful. Nevertheless a literacy test does not seem the proper method of securing the result desired. It excludes individuals who have not had an opportunity rather than those who lack ability. What is needed is a publicity bureau to inform the immigrants of the best opportunities in this country. If any one is admitted without the necessary means to betake himself to the 86 RURAL SOCIOLOGY proper locality it is our moral duty to aid him. This publicity and distribution bureau would find no lack of opportunities for the immigrants. The density of the population of the Southern States to-day is very low compared with that of the Northern : Alabama 35 New York 152 Arkansas 24 Illinois 86 Louisiana .*.... 30 Ohio 102 Texas 11 Pennsylvania 140 Florida 9 Massachusetts 349 The wonderful resources of those States are almost untouched. The foreigners are very welcome there. It would be unfair to the South to deprive her of these immigrants who would de- velop her agricultural resources merely because the North is more fully developed. In the West there are still 485,000,000 acres of idle land. The East has its abandoned farms. If the results of a policy of internal distribution of the immigrant should prove unsatisfactory then it would be time to pass laws restricting immigration. In the meantime we should not forget America's great debt to the immigrant. WHY IMMIGRANTS GO TO CITIES 1 H. P. FAIRCHILD IT is apparent that our foreign-born residents tend irresistibly to congregate in the most densely settled portions of the country, and in the most densely populated states. But this is not all. They also tend to congregate in the largest cities, and in the most congested sections of those cities. In 1890, 61.4 per cent, of the foreign-born population of the United States were living in cities of at least 2500 population. In 1900 the percentage had increased to 66.3, while 38.8 per cent, of the entire foreign- born population were huddled into the few great cities having a population of over 100,000. In the same year only 36.1 per cent of the native-born population were living in cities of over 2500. This tendency appears to be increasing in strength, and i Adapted from "Immigration," pp. 229-231. Macmillan, New York, 1913. THE IMMIGRANT 87 is more marked among the members of the new immigration than among the older immigrants. Thus in 1910 the percentage of foreign-born living in cities of the specified size had risen to 72.2. The reasons for this tendency of the foreign-born to congregate in the most densely settled districts may be briefly summarized as follows. (1) They land, almost without exception, in cities, and it is often the easiest thing for them to stay there. It takes some capital, knowledge, and enterprise to carry the immigrant any distance from the port of arrival, unless he has a definite connection in some other place. Yet it is claimed that, land them where you would, about the same number of immigrants would find their way to New York within a few weeks. (2) Economic opportunities are much more abundant and varied in the cities than in the country. (3) Such occupations as are obtainable in the city require much less capital than the char- acteristic country occupations. With a few dollars, an im- migrant in the city can set himself up in some independent busi- ness, depending on turning over his capital rapidly to make a living. There are so many people in the city, that if one can .manage to serve the most trivial want satisfactorily, he can get along. But any independent business in the country requires a larger outlay of capital than the average immigrant can hope for. The only country occupation open to him is common farm labor, and there are other reasons which make him ill adapted for this. (4) In the cities, the newly arrived immigrant can keep in close touch with others of his own race and tongue. In the compact colony of his fellow-countrymen, he may be sure of companionship, encouragement, and assistance when needed. It is the most natural thing in the world for an immigrant to want to settle where there are numbers of others of his immediate kind. (5) Knowledge of the English language is much less essential in the city than in the country. The presence of others who can speak the same tongue makes it possible for an immigrant to make a living without knowing a word of the language of his adopted country, as many of them do for year after year. In the rural districts, however, it is impossible for a newly arrived immigrant to get along at all without a knowledge of the English language, either in independent business, or as an em- ployee, unless he settles in a farm colony of people of his own 88 RURAL SOCIOLOGY race, of which there are, of course, many to be found. (6) Not only is there more chance of friendly relief from fellow-country- men, in case of necessity, in the cities, but public relief agencies and private benevolences are much more available there than in the country. (7) The excitement and novelty of American city life is very attractive to many immigrants just as it is to natives. Trolley cars, skyscrapers, and moving picture shows are wonderfully alluring features. In fact, in addition to the considerations which are peculiar to himself, the immigrant has all the general incentives to seek the city, which operate upon the general population, and which have produced so decided a change in the distribution of population within the last few decades. IMMIGRATION AS A SOURCE OF FARM LABORERS 1 JOHN LEE COULTER AGRICULTURE has so long been looked upon as the dumping- ground of all surplus labor in case of city industries, of all poverty-stricken persons in case of famines, and all revolutionary individuals in case of disruption in European countries, that it is hard to realize that we have reached the state where farming in practically all of its branches requires a very high order of intelligence and the capacity to grasp and use a great variety of scientific facts. We may, therefore, say that, although it is true that we need farm labor very much, as a relief for current im- migration agricultural distribution is not promising. There are two great classes of immigrants that can find room in various branches of the agricultural industry. The first class is composed of those from overcrowded agricultural communities in their home countries. On account of the high state of de- velopment of their industry they can teach us much which we have failed to take advantage of and which would result in the uplift of many of the sub-industries in agriculture in this country. These should be urged to bring with them their home industries and introduce new phases of agriculture into this country. The United States has been spending millions of i Adapted from Annals 33: 373-379, Jan.-June, 1909. THE IMMIGRANT 89 dollars in introducing new plants, animals, and methods of fann- ing from other countries. At the same time little groups of foreigners, such as the Swiss of Wisconsin or later the Italians in some Southern districts, formerly thought of as the least desirable immigrants, have settled in our midst and put into practice their home training, which has resulted in the establish- ing of great industries, such as the Swiss cheese industry. The class of immigrants most desired is, therefore, those who will add most to the industry they enter. But it is not necessary that the immigrants should introduce some new sub-industry or be in advance of us in their methods in order to make them eligible to enter the agricultural industries. We may say as a general proposition that farmers from nearly any agricultural community in Europe would be acceptable in some of the agri- cultural industries of this country. If reasonable pre- cautions are taken the immigrants referred to, even though they bring no new industry, will not become public charges, but will add to the general prosperity of the country. The class objected to, the refuse from other industries, not only adds nothing new but is apt either to lower the standard of the agri- cultural industry or to become a public charge. But it is not enough to encourage one class of immigrants and discourage or prohibit others. The immigrants must not only come from rural districts in their mother-country; if they are to succeed, they must be properly located here. Probabty the most important single condition is that immigrants should be directed toward and urged to locate where their physical en- vironment will correspond as nearly as may be to that of their mother-country. By that I mean that not only should the climate be nearly the same, but the precipitation, the soils, and the topography should approach that of their former home, if possible. Failure to satisfy these preliminary requirements has resulted in almost complete failure or a long period of suffering, while attention to these factors has produced unpredicted suc- cesses. The next consideration of singular importance is that the social environment should be acceptable. If the agricultural operations are not close to a city where others of the same nationality are employed in other industries, it is desirable 90 RURAL SOCIOLOGY almost necessary that a considerable number be allowed, even induced, if need be, to settle in a community. At first, they will live as in a world apart, but they give off ideas and take on others and at the end of a generation or two a few intermarriages will have broken down the hard-and-fast wall between settlements. Common markets, interchange of labor supply, contests between settlements, political and other conflicts, and back of it all the common-school system, soon result in an amalgamated, assimi- lated race. The next consideration which should be held in mind in de- termining upon the distribution of immigrants among the dif- ferent branches of the agricultural industry is the economic status of the people to be distributed and their plans or am- bitions for the future. Thus, some are independent laborers, others ready to become tenants, and still others to be landowners. Some plan to be employees as long as they stay; some of these would plan to save a snug fortune in a few years and return to the mother-country, others to earn and use the returns from year to year. Some plan to step up to the position of tenant and employer, others are ready to enter that state at once. Some are ready to become landowners and independent farmers by pur- chase of land in settled districts, others with less capital would go to the frontier with poorer markets and grow up with the country, enduring hardships but accumulating wealth. There is room for all of these classes of people in nearly all parts of the country. The extended successes accompanied by individual failures of the English-speaking peoples who early entered the agricultural industry of this country need not be expanded upon here. Neither will any detailed treatment of the extensive settlement by Germans in the North Central States during the last half -cen- tury be made. We may place the general influx of Scandinavians into Minnesota and the Dakotas in/ the same class and pass by all of these which means the great bulk of immigrants of agri- cultural peoples with the statement that they represent success and with the assumption that students of economics know of these classes and know of their successes. It is because we are too apt to stop at this point and say that other nationalities as a rule have little or nothing to offer that this paper is presented. The THE IMMIGRANT 91 writer would emphasize the fact that we have room for farmers from many lands, assuming that we act intelligently in our choice and properly distribute those who come. The large Swiss settlement in Green County, Wisconsin, illustrates success in the introduction of a new sub-industry of great importance. Having struggled for years trying to farm in the American way, these immigrants finally turned to the great industry of their home country. They had settled in a physical enviroment which was very much like what they had left abroad. Now several hundred cheese factories are prosper- ing and millions of pounds of cheese are annually placed upon our markets. Most of it is the famous Swiss cheese. It should also be noted that nearly all of those engaged in making this cheese and in buying and selling it are Swiss or of Swiss origin. The writer feels that this colony is a great success, is the kind of thing this country wants, is the basis of prosperity in our agriculture, and must not be condemned because of the fact that broad Swiss is sometimes spoken or because the thousands of members of the district are not assimilated during the first generation. The writer has found individuals and small groups of settlers from this colony and from "the old country" moving far up into the Northwest carrying with them the information and ambition to start other colonies as prosperous as the old one. The acquisition of such an industry is as valuable to this country as the introduction of a new plant that may have required the expenditure of a hundred thousand dollars. Turning from this prosperous Swiss district, we may direct our attention to a Bohemian center in northwestern Minnesota. The Swiss had sent explorers ahead to find a desirable location before coming to this country and settling down. The Bohemians were in no greater financial straits in their home country than the Swiss had been, but they were brought in and located by great transportation companies. The soil where the Bohemians were ' * dumped ' ' is very good ; but the country needs an expensive drainage system. The poor immigrants are not in a position to establish it. The result is that for some fifteen years we have had before our eyes a Bohemian colony number- ing hundreds of people, unable to establish a prosperous com- munity because of unfavorable natural conditions. These people 92 RURAL SOCIOLOGY will succeed in time, despite obstacles, but some common-sense assistance would hasten the day of their prosperity. In other parts of the United States large settlements of Bohemians of no higher standard are prosperous and happy. As an illustration of the status that should obtain the writer would refer to some of the very prosperous communities of Poles and Icelanders in North Dakota and elsewhere. No class of citizens, whether immigrants or descended from immigrants half a dozen steps removed, could ask for greater material prog- ress, better buildings homes, churches, schools, and town build- ings than the Polish settlements around Warsaw, Poland, Minto, and Ardock in Walsh County, North Dakota. The writer's knowledge of this and other communities of like char- acter leads him to say that to encourage such settlements is to foster prosperity and frugality as well as to place the stamp of approval upon a home-loving, land-loving class of farmers. If we pass on to settlements of Russians we may say nearly the same as above. With a love for land and home which is almost beyond our understanding, these people are too often frugal to a fault. They come with a low standard of living and during the first generation the standard does not rise much. But the change soon comes. The children, or at least the grandchildren, become thoroughly American unless the immigrants have been located in an enviroment where success is impossible. In this connection we might refer to such concrete cases as the settle- ments in central and western North Dakota, or the large pros- perous colony in Ellis County, Kansas, or the newer settlements in the Southwest. Nor need we stop with the Swiss, Bohemians, Polanders, Ice- landers, and Russians. If we turn our attention to the Italians coming into the South we find them filling the various places demanding attention. There is a large demand for white labor, and the mass of Italians who do not intend to make this their life-home more and more fill a long-felt need. With the great numbers of Mexicans coming across the line for part of a season this demand may gradually be better and better satisfied. There is also a large demand for tenants, and this cry is being answered by Italians. These newcomers are not only fitting into the cotton-growing industry in competition with the colored people, THE IMMIGRANT 93 but are proving their efficiency in vegetable and fruit farming. Of late years such settlements as that of Italians at Tontitown, Arkansas, in the Ozark Mountains, show also that Italians can bring their home industry with them and succeed here. They not only settle down as dignified farmers, but actually teach our farmers many things. Vegetables, apples, plums, grapes, and, other fruits are successfully grown. If the colony located at Sunnyside, Arkansas, at an earlier date was a failure at first, it is no sign that Italians cannot succeed in agriculture. Immi- grants, largely from other industries, placed in competition with Negroes in production of a crop that they knew absolutely nothing about, under foremen accustomed to drive slaves, in a swamp country hot and sickly to newcomers attacked by malarial fever and losing a large number of the first settlers, it is not to be wondered at that failure was threatened. But suc- cess has come even in that case, where failure at first stared all in the face. With colonies like the Brandsville Swiss settlement in Mis- souri, with the Italians and Russians coming even into old New England, with Mexicans pushing up into the Southwest, and with other nationalities gradually finding their own, we may indeed turn our attention toward the agricultural industry as a much-neglected field. The cry of "back to the land" will not go unheeded by immigrants who have come from farms in their mother-country if any reasonable amount of effort is put forth to ' ' assist them to find themselves. ' ' Reference might also be made to the Jewish farm problems of the Middle Atlantic States, problems which have importance as far West as Wisconsin; and to the Japanese and Chinese agri- cultural labor problems of the far West and Southwest. There are possibilities here which few people have yet appreciated. The question of demand for seasonal agricultural labor and the pos- sibilities of continual labor by passing from one industry to another in neighboring districts or following the same industry from one part of the country to another are left untouched. BIBLIOGRAPHY Balch, Emily G. The Peasant Background of Our Slavic Fellow Citi- zens. Survey 24 : 6G7-77. August, 1910. 94 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Cance, Alexander E. Recent Immigrants in Agriculture. Senate Document, G33, 61 Cong. 3rd Session, Vol. II, 1911. Cance, Alexander E. Immigrant Rural Communities, Annals 40 : 69- 80. March, 1912. Commr. Gen. of Immigration. Annual Report, year ending June 30, 1919. Supt. of Documents, Washington, D. C. Coulter, John Lee. The Influence of Immigration on Agricultural De- velopment, Annals, 33 : 373-379, March, 1909. Connor, Ralph. The Foreigner. Doran, New York, 1909. Elkinton, Joseph. The Doukhobors. Charities, 13 : 252-6, 1904. Flom, George T. History of Norwegian Immigration to the United States from the Earliest Beginning Down to the Year 1848. Torch Press, Cedar Rapids, la., 1909. Hall, Prescott F. Immigration and Its Effect Upon the United States. Holt, N. Y., 1906. Hoverstad, T. A. The Norwegian Farmers in the United States. Hans Jervell Publishing Co., Fargo, N. D., 1915. Jenks, Jeremiah W., and Lauck, W. Jett. The Immigration Problem. Funk & Wagnalls, N. Y., 1917. Joseph, Samuel. Jewish Immigration to the United States. Columbia Univ. studies. Longmans, N. Y., 1914. Mashek, Nan. The Immigrant and the Farm. World To-day, 20: 206-9, Feb., 1911. Mathews, John L. Tontitown. Everybody's, 20:3-13, Jan., 1909. Morse, W. N. Earning a Valley. Outlook, 96 : 80-86, Sept. 10, 1910. Morse, W. N. Black Dirt People. Outlook, 93:949-57, December, 1909. Robinson, Leonard G. The Agricultural Activities of the Jews in America. American Jewish Committee, N. Y., 1912. Ross, E. A. The Germans in America. Century, 88 : 98-104, May, 1914. Ross, E. A. The Scandinavians in America. Century, 88 : 291-8, June, 1914. Shaler, Nathaniel S. European Peasants as Immigrants. Atlantic, 7:646-655, May, 1893. Steiner, E. A. On the Trail of the Immigrant. Revell, N. Y., 1906. Steiner, Lajos. Our Recent Immigrants as Farmers. Review of Re- views, 29 : 342-345, March, 1914. Thomas, Wm. I., and Znaniecki, Florian. The Polish Peasant in Eu- rope and America, Vols. I-III, University of Chicago Press, 1918. Vols. IV and V, to appear. Titus, E. K. Pole in Land of Puritan. New England Mag., 29 : 162- 6, October, 1903. CHAPTER V PRESENT PROBLEMS OF COUNTRY LIFE WANTED: A NATIONAL POLICY IN AGRICULTURE 1 EUGENE DAVENPORT THE purpose of this paper is to invite attention to the very great need at the present time of a more definite policy regarding agriculture ; a policy that shall be national in its scope, universal in its interests, and comprehensive in its procedures. The term national policy is not intended to mean a policy of the Federal Government as over against the States, nor in- deed a governmental policy of any kind as distinct from the con- victions and the ideals of the people from which and from whom our democratic government proceeds. What is meant is rather such consensus of intelligent opinion and such a deliberate judgment about agriculture as shall repre- sent the constructive purpose of the American people whether farmers, laborers, or business men, and whether operating in their private or their governmental capacities. What is meant is such a common recognition of certain facts and principles to be established by investigation and conference as shall amount at any given time to a national policy about farms and farmers and farming as over against the policy which assumes a struggle of each separate interest to maintain its place in a constantly shift- ing balance of power in which all are frankly antagonistic and each prospers or suffers in proportion to the force it is able to exert and the advantage it is able to secure. This policy is not called a program because programs are made to carry out fixed and predetermined purposes, while the thing in the mind of the speaker is rather a status and a procedure i Adapted from "Proceedings of 32nd Annual Convention of the Assn. of Am. Agricultural Colleges and Experiment Stations," pp. 52-68. 95 96 RURAL SOCIOLOGY under shifting conditions, with the intent always to promote the prosperity of the farmer, not as a favored class but as a typical and component part of society, producing the food of the people and in potential control of the land policies of the commonwealth. My general thesis is this : That considerations of fairness and of public safety both demand a higher regard for the affairs and interests of the open country and for the welfare of the farmer and his family; that in a real democracy the farmer must stand higher than hitherto in public esteem, not because of demands he may make upon society but by reason of his worth and his service ; and that he should count for more in the management of public affairs not administratively, in which he has little skill, but in matters requiring counsel, in which he is comparatively wise and relatively unprejudiced. Agriculture, whether considered as a profession or .as a mode of life, has never figured adequately in world affairs, being re- garded by publicists mainly as the source of cheap food for cheap labor and of raw materials good for commerce and for manufacture, both convenient for holding the balance of trade upon the right side of the ledger. The farmer himself has been generally considered as an unskilled laborer, a humble producer rather than a typical citizen. Outside the technical journals, the public press is almost as silent about farmers and agriculture except for an occasional poor joke, the annual crop statistics, or the market report as if our farming were done upon Mars. The columns are full of the struggles between labor and capital, of society notes and of busi- ness schemes, but in general a murder trial with a mystery, or the love letters in a triangular divorce suit are good for more space than the greatest livestock exposition in the world. Our magazines and the public mind are full of modern scientific achievements and of art, but how much does the world know or care about the farmer and his phenomenal success in animal and plant improvement or the pictures he paints every year upon the landscape? Clearly our public press is animated almost exclusively by urban interests even in cities that owe their very commercial existence and financial support to the agricultural activity of the immediate environs. To be sure, the statistician and the speculator know something about farming but not about PROBLEMS OF COUNTRY LIFE 97 the farmer, for their interest is limited to the mass results in the form of millions of bushels and does not extend to the matter of their production, the welfare of the producer, or the effect upon the land. Everybody agrees that this is to be a different world after the war, but no thoughtful man can fail to be struck with the char- acter of the economic and social questions that begin to loom large in connection with reconstruction : trade routes, the new merchant marine, raw materials, improved facilities for extending credit, cooperative business, public ownership of public utilities, government oversight of private enterprises, excess profits, in- heritance taxes, prohibition, woman suffrage, the perennial problems of the relations between capital and labor, the mini- mum wage, the maximum day, and time and a half for overtime. Not an item, not a suggestion, of anything agricultural either as a business or as a mode of life, if we may except the occasional mention of the word "land" and certain plans for providing homesteads for the returning soldiers, which is an army, not an agricultural, proposition. For the most part our considerable list of reconstruction problems may be reduced to the two great questions that mainly concern the public mind to-day; namely, foreign and domestic trade, and the perennial contest between capital and labor. We forget the citizen because we have learned to think politically and socially mainly in terms of commerce based upon manu- facture, under conditions requiring vast combinations of capital, concentration of population, and division of labor the very con- ditions that inspire not only greed of gain and social unrest, but international war. Yet our interest lies here rather than with the peaceful pursuits of the open country. It may well be said that if there is a dearth of live problems in the public mind regarding agriculture, it is the fault of the farmers themselves inasmuch as each interest is assumed to be responsible for promoting its own affairs. Granted, but even so the conclusion is irresistible that people generally do not regard agricultural problems as of public concern, while my chief con- tention is that the public even more than the farmer is interested in the discovery and the proper solution of every problem con- nected with the public domain, with the production of food, and 98 RURAL SOCIOLOGY with the character and condition of that portion of our popula- tion that shall live upon the land. I say that the public is more interested than the farmer in these matters because "The Farmer" is actually a collection of individuals who can for the most part extricate themselves from any intolerable situation that may develop ; while the country as a whole cannot extricate itself from the consequences of bad agricultural policies that easily develop when matters of funda- mental character intimately connected with food production, home-building, and land ownership are left to shift for them- selves. But we are not without a start in the right direction. More than half a century ago we began to think nationally about agriculture. The impulse had its origin in our consular service and in the primitive collecting instinct whereby seeds and roots of promising foreign plants were sent to America for trial. Out of this grew the Department of Agriculture, representing the official determination of America to do whatever could be done administratively to promote agricultural welfare at home and marketing facilities abroad. Again, in the darkest days of our Civil War the United States established the most unique educational s} 7 stem which the world has ever known ; hence this association and the colleges it repre- sents. Aiming at increased production though it does, and national in scope though it is, yet after all, the basis of the system is the education and the initiative of the individual, for it is founded upon instruction of collegiate grade and based upon scientific investigation of the highest order. We could not have a better foundation for 'the edifice that shall one day stand as emblematical of our national aims and purposes in agriculture than is the education system represented l by this Association of American Agricultural Colleges, and there could be no better corner-stone for the structure than the work of the experiment stations connected therewith. But this is only a beginning of a national policy for agri- culture ; there yet exists a wide gulf between what these public agencies are doing or can do and what the individual is accom- plishing or able to accomplish under anything like present or prospective conditions. If agriculture is to figure as it must PROBLEMS OF COUNTRY LIFE 99 figure in a successful democracy, then this gulf must somehow be bridged. It must never be forgotten in this connection that in a suc- cessful democracy occuping territory of continental proportions, approximately one-third of all the people will live upon the land. Moreover, it is this third and not the mass representing organized industry or the fraction representing ' l business, ' ' through which the line of descent will mainly run. Who these people are, therefore, that live upon the land, which third of our population they represent, and what they are thinking about day by day and year by year as the generations come and go, may easily make all the difference between success and failure in the experiment of democratic government, to which all the world now stands committed and in which experiment the United States occupies a position of associated leadership as conspicuous as it was inevitable. Specifically, then, what is it that agriculture needs and does not have but that is essential to the highest success and the greatest safety both of the farming people and of the nation as a whole ? What are some of the things that must be provided from the national end after the individual, by his education, his in- dustry, and his thrift, has done all that may fairly be expected of him, and the State he lives in has done what it can ? If agriculture were solely >an individual enterprise we should simply consult the farmer about his needs and desires. But agriculture is more than farming and the public must be party to any policies affecting the production of its food, the manage- ment of its lands, or the social and political welfare of its people. The question, therefore, what does agriculture need? must be divided and considered both from the point of view of the farmer and from that of the public in its largest capacity that is to say, the nation, present and prospective. First of all, then, what more does the farmer need? If this question should be put to the observer from the parlor car or to the publicist, he would likely say that the farmer needs to work to a better purpose and to be more careful of his equipment; that he doubtless needs more capital as he certainly needs to organize his affairs according to modern business methods, and to know better than he does what things cost him. 100 RURAL SOCIOLOGY But if the same question be asked the farmer, he will have a different answer. He will say that the farmer needs many things which he is powerless to provide but without which the business is becoming less and less desirable from a relative point of view, therefore declining. He will probably say first of all that he wants better ed- ucational opportunities for his children, for as matters stand now they must leave the parental roof at a tender age or else he must uproot his "home, abandon his business, and go to town if his children are not to fall behind those of the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker to be more specific, of the carpenter, the plumber, and the day laborer. But we have the Smith-Hughes bill which in itself is evidence that the public has not only recognized but acknowledged the conditions and begun to correct them in a wise way too, for in a democracy the people must take the lead or at least carry a part of the burden of all progress. This plan which we have begun is a logical extension of the land-grant idea into the domain of secondary education. We are evidently headed in the right direction at this point, but our progress will be insufficient until we succeed in providing for the children of the farm as wholesome, as adequate, and as cultural if not as varied, educational opportunities as are pro- vided in the most favored cities. There are obstacles to be over- come of course, chief of which are the low tax-paying ability of the open country as compared with the congested city, and the high per capita cost of education. But if we are to remain a democracy and be safe, this burden must in some way be assumed by the public and not remain a permanent handicap upon the profession of farming. If it is not so assumed as a national policy and as .a part of a national plan, even to the extent of heavily subsidizing rural education, it is inevitable that we shall ultimately have a peasant population on the farms, and colleges such as ours will have no students of collegiate grade except from among land-holding city residents. It requires no prophet to foresee that when such a time comes democratic institutions will begin to crumble at their foundations. Next to the lack of educational opportunities for his children comparable with those of the city, the farmer will insist that the PROBLEMS OF COUNTRY LIFE 101 income from his business is inadequate to enable him to main- tain the same scale of living as that provided through other occupations requiring equal or even less preparation, industry, or investment. Pushed for proof, he will reason substantially as follows : All studies in cost accounting show a labor income from farming which in the vast majority of cases is ridiculously small, failing oftener than not to require more than three figures for its ex- pression and recognized by the public as a joke. We are not now considering the exceptional man, or what might be done, but we are to study deliberately what the great mass of farmers, our hardest working people, are accomplishing or indeed can accomplish in earning power through the production of staple foods under conditions that have prevailed and that are likely to obtain at the close of the war and afterwards. The farmer will confess that he has long been criticized for tight-fistedness in refusing to pay "decent wages" and that he has thereby lost the bulk of his best labor, even his own sons. He will point out that a Federal milk commission very recently after six weeks' deliberation refused to allow a price that would net him thirty cents an hour for the labor involved in milk pro- duction, even though the same milk was delivered by drivers getting a hundred or more dollars a month with no risks and no expenses. He will point out how severely he has been criticized in the press and from the platform for failure to provide bathrooms in his home and modern conveniences for his wife, whom he loves as other men love their wives ; but he will also point out that the policy which refused him thirty cents an hour for his own labor, permits the plumber in a country town to charge eighty cents (by the latest information, to be exact, eighty-one and one- quarter) with fifty cents for a boy helper, who for the most part does little work, and the like of whom would not be "worth his salt" upon the farm. This farmer will be able to show also that if he should attempt to pay the minimum wage of Mr. Ford or of the labor unions with an eight-hour day and time and a half for overtime now recognized by the Federal Government, he would either speedily lose his farm or else the cost of food would run to a level un- 102 , RURAL SOCIOLOGY a'pproacneci by the present war prices. Specifically, this would mean that milk would have retailed in Chicago last winter at some seventeen cents a quart instead of twelve, as allowed by a Federal commission, or the thirteen that would have satisfied the farmers, and that present prices of meat and butter would ex- pand some twenty or twenty-five per cent. If he reads the daily papers, as he probably does, this farmer will also point out that under Federal management of the rail- ways, his local station agent (not a telegrapher) has just been granted a minimum wage of ninety-five dollars a month on the basis of an eight-hour day, pro-rata addition for two days over- time and time and a half for further excess. Any good farm laborer can do this work; how, therefore, shall the farmer com- pete at less than thirty cents an hour and with what arguments shall he preserve the independence and initiative of his own son over against a government job, protected by the civil service, backed by a powerful union, and guaranteeing with no invest- ment and no risk a minimum wage far in excess of what the father has ever made upon the farm, with an eight-hour day and time and a half for overtime, spent wholly under shelter and mostly in an armchair ? The situation is illustrated by my own experience within a fortnight wherein a farm laborer protested against his wage of seventy-seven dollars per month upon the ground that his son of seventeen was making one hundred and sixty-five dollars a month in the railroad yards a mile away. There are vast wheat growing regions in this country under- lain by coal deposits. Here farming and mining come together. Here the farmer's income from wheat growing and the miner's wage may be directly compared. When this is done, it will be found that the farmer is unable with the most modern machinery and methods to cultivate with his own hands land enough to produce a labor income equal to that of the soft coal miner, working and living in the same neighborhood, trading at the same stores, attending the same churches, and sending his children to the same schools. Here we have a class of artisans largely of alien birth and not yet citizens, but protected in their earning capacity by a power- ful organization whose existence and demands are now recognized PROBLEMS OF COUNTRY LIFE 103 as a part of our national policy. No preparation is required for their business, nothing is invested, no taxes paid, and no risks assumed except perhaps a slightly, a very slightly, increased hazard of life offset to a considerable degree by easier hours and healthier conditions of work. But the citizen farmer who lives in the same community with the miner, whose children grow up with his own, and who is a manager in 'a small way, competing in the labor market, must in- vest in land and buildings, tools and livestock. He must pay taxes and insurance and repairs and veterinary fees. He must work often sixteen hours, seldom less than ten, and he must be on duty day and night, ready always to care for his independent plant all this, and yet in order to receive a labor income equal to that of the soft coal miner, whether citizen or alien, with no preparation, with nothing invested but a pick and shovel, and with no risk involved, the farmer must not only work himself as no professional laborer ever works, but he must also work his children without pay. The ultimate consequence of this condition needs no exposition here. By as much as this country could not permanently remain half free and half slave, no more can our democracy endure with- out a national policy and plan that will equalize to some degree at least the income from the land and investment in the most perishable of all equipment on the one hand and the rewards of unskilled labor upon the other. But if the profits of farming are so meager, how can we have so many "rich farmers" here and there as to make the term proverbial? The situation to which this question refers will bear analysis. There are many rich farmers, as riches go among common people, but it will be found upon investigation that they belong to one of four classes, mostly unique or temporary : First. Exceptional men on large farms or else engaged in some branch of specialized farming which by its nature is limited in its application. Second. Men who have inherited their farms and to whom these farms therefore represent a capital investment that cost them nothing. Third. Men who have deliberately raised large families in order to have at hand an abundance of unpaid labor, brutalizing 104 RURAL SOCIOLOGY womanhood from no higher motives than actuated thousands in raising soldiers for the Kaiser. Fourth. Men who have obtained their lands in an early day at a nominal rate, often as low as fifty cents an acre, and who have worked the land "for all that's in it," mining out fertility as the operator mines out coal. Here is where most of the rich farmers will be found a crop that can be produced once and only once in any country. Whoever knows the conditions that actually obtain in respect to home-building will understand the deep-seated unrest that is becoming wide-spread in this country because of the increasing difficulty in securing ownership to land. To the public generally this is a sealed chapter in the notes of an unwritten history, but to those of us who can remember when there was no "Great West," when Cincinnati was called Porkoplis, and when steers were fed from the open ranges across the prairies to the central market, this is no mystery. We understand perfectly well what the mass of Americans do not know, that until about the opening of the present century, men, women and children worked will- ingly and often cruelly without money and without price for the sake of developing out of nature's; raw material "a home of their own. ' ' That opportunity has now gone and with it the impulse to labor for something better than money. Hereafter the farmer, like other people, will have to reckon his income in terms of cash. The wave of land hunger now going upf over this country is but the premonition of what is coming if it is to remain as diffi- cult as now for country-minded young families to obtain, within a reasonable period, homes of their own. Here within our midst almost unnoticed and for the most part unknown is growing up a situation of vastly more import to public welfare than are all the questions of merchant marine, trade routes, raw materials, and preferential tariffs combined. The facts are that as matters are going now, land is slipping away from the typical farmer, and his children will soon be disappearing from our colleges. But why be so solicitous about a class of people who cannot or will not take care of themselves? That is exactly the point. We have now reached a time in world development when we recognize the fact that many very good things cannot take care PROBLEMS OF COUNTRY LIFE 105 of themselves but must be cared for, even fought for, and that the policy of laissez faire is often fatal to peaceful progress. If the farmer is not satisfied and thinks he can better himself then let him change his profession. Exactly, and that is what he is doing in an alarming proportion of instances, but what about the rest of us, and wherewithal shall we be fed ? If farm- ing were a profession engaging but a few thousand people, we might afford to let it alone, but it is our largest industry, engag- ing millions of some kind of citizens. It is a matter of public concern, therefore, both ways, that they be prosperous and gradually evolving with the rest of the world. It is because the farmer as such cannot take care of himself; because we are drifting rapidly away from conditions that pro- mote a stable democracy and toward agrarian revolution, that a national policy about agriculture must be one of the major and not the minor considerations in readjusting the affairs of this disturbed country, which is now, in common with the rest of the world, in a highly fluid condition and ready for the hand of the molder. Whatever is true of farmers as individuals or of farming as a profession, the chief concern about agriculture after all, and the considerations that demand a national policy and plan, fall well within the domain of public welfare. The country as a whole, even more than the average farmer, is concerned about the housing, the sanitary surroundings, and the health of that third of our population which lives upon the farm under what ought to be and what can well be ideal physical and moral conditions for raising the citizens of a democracy. Yet no man will admit that even in this great, new, rich country, with its high percentage of literacy, are these conditions any- where near ideal. Again, the country as a whole is more interested than the average man is likely to be in the kind and amount of education which is to be combined with the wholesome industry that naturally attends upon life in the country, and in so far as either of these considerations is hampered from lack of funds or ideals, the public is bound to supply both, for the class of people is too numerous, its power for good or evil too great, to justify neglect. 106 RURAL SOCIOLOGY The home-building instinct is not only the greatest known incentive to work but it is also the safety clutch for democratic institutions. We have enjoyed a half century of unexampled prosperity, largely because it has been based upon cheap food food so cheap as not to repay the labor bestowed upon it, to say nothing of capital, of which there was little, or the extraction of fertility, of which there was much. There is nothing that will get so much work out of a man and his family as the desire to own the home that shelters them, and we have capitalized this instinct to the limit, together with an almost total disregard of virgin fertility. This latter component of cheap food is gone; it behooves us now to make the most of the former even though it may somewhat increase the price of food. Under existing conditions farmers will do one of two things : require financial returns comparable with those of other people, or settle back upon the primitive self-sufficing system, producing not a supply but a simple surplus over their own needs. In either case more expensive food is inevitable in the one instance from an increased initial cost of production and in the other from a reduced supply. From the standpoint, therefore, both of the amount and the price of food it is in every way to the advantage of the public to stimulate the home-building as against the money-making motive among farmers. That way too lies safety for our de- mocracy. To this end it must be made easier for the young people of each and every generation to acquire the ownership of land with such betterments and such opportunities for living and rearing families as may produce ideal Americans. As the land must change operators every generation, it must not be too diffi- cult also to change ownership. And we must go on further in our national plan than to make it easy to acquire ownership in land. We must care for this land as a national asset and as a perpetual obligation, in the in- terest of future Americans. Ownership means at best but tem- porary control, and whoever carries in his pocket a deed to a portion of the national domain is in reality a tenant at will, and the conditions of his tenantry should be such decent regard to the fertility of the land he occupies as shall insure increasing, not decreasing, productivity. In no other way can the lives and the PROBLEMS OF COUNTRY LIFE 107 fortunes, in no other way can the domestic peace of the millions of coming Americans be guaranteed. This too must go into the policy. After all, who is The Farmer? And where is the land which he wants? The attempt to answer these questions brings us very near to the crux of the situation. Not far from half the acreage of our better lands is owned by one group and operated by another. Who then is The Farmer? When two families are attempting to live off the same farm, one of them in idleness, or when eleven families are living off ten farms, with whose in- terests do those of the public lie ? In one county of Illinois, twenty per cent, of the farm lands are said to be owned by men who have never seen their properties because they live with other interests on the Atlantic seaboard, collecting rent through agents as they clip coupons from stock certificates. It is said that the estate of Lord Scully is just now raising the rents of some hundreds of thousands of acres of our best prairie land to ten dollars an acre, or about two thousand per cent, annually of the original cost. Investments and betterments? Not a dollar! For the agent is instructed that if the renter wants a house or a pig pen, let him build it. No investments ex- cept in additional land. Here is a mare's nest for hatching trouble, and the tenants are already reported as organizing for resistance. Nobody cares how large is the farm that one man operates economic limitations will control, and the larger the better so far as the public is concerned. But when a man deliberately acquires not one farm but ten farms, not with the intention of occupying any of them or of producing anything, then the public will one day have something to say about the matter. It dare not do otherwise. We shall always have renters, but shall renting and landlordism become typical in the country as it is now in the cities? If so, in that direction lies trouble. Specifically the public wants to know and it will one day in- quire whether capital is invested in land from a desire to operate it or merely from a wish to live without labor and at the same time by speculation to grow rich upon the rise of real estate. In no other form are investments of moderate amounts of capital 108 RURAL SOCIOLOGY so influential for weal or woe, not only to men and families, but to the public at large, as are investments in land. For this reason, therefore, in one way or another, investments in land will one day be limited as to amount and prescribed as to condi- tions. In no other way can private ownership be preserved from the general wreck of Bolshevism certain to follow a bad land policy. We all know what has been done in Russia and what is being done in Hungary. We know that England has been forced to control land ownership by limiting the conditions of inheritance, by progressive taxation, and by applying the principle of excess profits. Even so, one of the points insisted upon now by the British Labor Party is the nationalization of land. Among the achievements necessary to insure the proper de- velopment of American agriculture whether from a private or a public point of view, the following at least are of sufficient significance to be considered as fundamental in a national policy. First. Subsidization of country schools to an extent that will insure to every child born upon the farm the opportunity of a good high school education admitting to college, with choice of differentiation along agricultural, mechanical, commercial, scien- tific, or literary lines and this without leaving the father's roof or breaking up the home and the business. Second. Public recognition of the fact that the farmer is neither a capitalist nor a laborer, as the terms are understood in the commercial world, but a managing operator of a small busi- ness of which the home and the family are integral parts, and therefore entitled to stand in the public esteem as a typical demo- crat, not as a "rube," or even as an eminently useful laborer that should be contented with his lot. Third. Recognition of the fact that the American farmer, as a typical citizen representing our largest and most fundamental industry, and as our greatest home-builder, is entitled to an in- come comparable with his labor, his investment, and his managerial skill. Fourth. The assurance of this income, not by arbitrary price fixing in defiance of the economic law of supply and demand, not by force, but by conference between producer, distributor, and consumer. PROBLEMS OF COUNTRY LIFE 109 Fifth. Requirement by law of minimum housing conditions upon rented farms, such conditions to be maintained under a system of adequate inspection. Sixth. The obligation not only to maintain but to increase the fertility of land, this obligation to be equally binding upon landlord and tenant and enforced by public license. Seventh. Recognition of the fact that as between the owner and the operator of the land, the sympathy and support of the public should be with the operator. Eighth. Recognition of the fact that as between the owner- operator, the tenant, and the speculator, the sympathy and sup- port of the public should be with the owner-operator as the typical farmer. Ninth. The elimination from the public mind of the idea that tenantry is to be regarded in America as typical land occupancy or as the ideal road to ownership, theories for nationalization and mutualization of land to the contrary not- withstanding. Tenth. The appropriation of public funds for financing young men in prospective ownership as soon as they shall have fully established a reputation for thrift and shall have ac- cumulated say ten per cent, of the purchase price of productive lands. Eleventh. The establishment of interest rates on funds loaned upon land for home-building purposes that shall be based upon those of the most favorable bond issues, not upon current banking rates for short term loans rates that cannot be generally realized in farming and that ought not to be realized in the business of producing the staple foods. Twelfth. Discouragement of speculation in land, by means of graduated taxation and if necessary by prohibiting the ac- cumulation of large numbers of farms or other acquisition of land with no intention of occupancy ; in other words, the absolute dis- sociation of real estate speculation from farming and from the production of the food of the people. If we are to retain the principle and practice of private ownership, we must not abuse the privilege. Thirteenth. Recognition of agriculture in all its phases as a matter of deep public concern, whether regarded as the ma- 110 RURAL SOCIOLOGY chinery for the production of the food of the people, or as the means of providing ideal conditions for the rearing of children. Fourteenth. Finally, the determination to maintain upon the land the same class of people as are those who constitute the pre- vailing type among the mass of American citizens. Granted that these or some similar principles are not only right but desirable, how may we best set about their realization in the form of a working National Policy ? Upon this point there is interesting material for reflection in the methods by which we have arrived at other convictions that may fairly be called national. Second only to the need of a new national policy regarding any important matter is the method by which in a democracy such new policy may be elqyated from the plane of discussion into the realm of conviction and finally established as a per- manent part of our national habit of thought. In this connection it is both interesting and profitable to note with some care the various and diverse processes by which our own particular and characteristic national policies have not only come into being but have developed sufficient strength to determine and to domi- nate the everyday life of the people. For example, our fundamental doctrine that all men are equal in respect to their right of life and the pursuit of happiness, was declared and formally^ adopted in a document published to the world. WHO IS THE FARMER 1 A. M. SIMONS IF we are to select any particular section or type, which shall it be? Shall it be the New England Yankee wresting from his stumpy and rocky soil a niggard subsistence and swapping prod- ucts with his neighbors? If so, when we seek him in his native states we shall find him displaced by French Canadians, Italians and Irish immigrants. If we follow up his children we shall hardly recognize them in the tillers of the broad prairies of the i Adapted from "The American Farmer," p. 15, Kerr, Chicago. (Copy- right holder A. M. Simons.) PROBLEMS OF COUNTRY LIFE 111 West with a mind and hospitality as wide and as fertile as the teeming soil beneath their feet. OF is the American farmer best typified by the early pioneer, that strange combination of hunter, fisher, lumberman, farmer, trapper and scout, now well- nigh extinct, but to whom we owe Lincoln, the best and most typical American citizen? Or shall we find him in the South, amid the cotton, rice and sugar plantations? And if here, is he white or black a member of ante-bellum aristocracy or ''poor white trash"? If purity of American blood is to be the test, the latter will demand first consideration, for in few places is the foreign strain less present than among the moonshining, feud- fighting mountaineers of Kentucky and the Carolinas. Is he cow- boy, rancher or sheep farmer on the Western plains? Or is the typical American farmer the resident of the great arid irrigated belt, a dependent upon a great water company, raising almost fabulous crops and receiving a beggarly return? Or is he the Slav, or Italian, or Dutch truck farmer of the city suburb, work- ing beneath glass and aided by steam and electricity ? Or shall we find him upon the dairy and stock farms of Illinois, Iowa and Wisconsin? Or is he a fruit farmer, and if so is he in tropic or temperate climes? Is it all of these, or none, or part of each, or a composite picture of the whole that makes up the American fanner ? THE POINT OF VIEW IN COMPARISONS OF CITY AND COUNTRY CONDITIONS 1 KENYON L. BUTTERFIELD IN view of this apparent change in the attitude of people toward the farm problem, it may not be idle to suggest some possible errors that should be avoided when we are thinking of rural society. The student will doubtless approach his prob- lem fortified against some misconceptions he probably has thoughtfully established his view point. But the average per- son in the city is likely to call up the image of his ancestral home i Adapted from "Chapters in Rural Progress," pp. 4-5. ( Copyright by University Chicago Press, 1907.) 112 RURAL SOCIOLOGY of a generation ago, if he were born in the country, or, if not, to draw upon his observation made upon some summer vacation or on casual business trips into the interior. Or he takes his picture from ' * Shore Acres ' ' and the ' ' Old Homestead. ' ' In any case it is not improbable that the image may be faulty and as a consequence his appreciation of present conditions wholly inade- quate. Let us consider some of these possible sources of mis- conception. In the first place it is not fair to compare the country life as a whole with the best city conditions. This is often done. The observer usually has education, culture, leisure, the experience of travel, more or less wealth; his acquaintance is mostly with people of like attainments. When he fails to find a rural en- vironment that corresponds in some degree to his own and that of his friends, he is quick to conclude that the country has noth- ing to offer him, that only the city ministers to the higher wants of man. He forgets that he is one of a thousand in the city, and does not represent average city life. He fails to compare the average country conditions with the average city conditions, manifestly the only fair basis for comparison. Or he may err still more grievously. He may set opposite each other the worst country conditions and the better city conditions. He ought in all justice to balance country slum with the city slum ; and cer- tainly so if he insists on trying to find palaces, great libraries, eloquent preachers, theaters, and rapid transit in rural com- munities. City life goes to extremes ; country life, while varied, is more even. In the country there is little of large wealth, luxury, and ease; little also of extreme poverty, reeking crime, unutterable filth, moral sewage. Farmers are essentially a mid- dle class and no comparison is fair that does not keep this fact ever in mind. We sometimes hear the expression, ' ' Country life is so barren ; that to me is its most discouraging aspect." Much country life is barren ; but much more of it is only relatively and not essen- tially so. We must admit that civilization is at least partially veneer; polish does wonders for the appearance of folks as well as of furniture. But while the beauty of ''heart of oak" is enhanced by its "finish," its utility is not destroyed by a failure PROBLEMS OF COUNTRY LIFE 113 to polish it. Now, much of the so-called barrenness of country life is* the oak minus the polish. We come to regard polish as essential; it is only relative. And not only may we apply the wrong standard to our situation, but our eyes may deceive us. To the uninitiated a clod of dry earth is the most unpromising of objects it is cousin to the stone and the type of barrenness. But to the elect it is pregnant with the possibilities of seed-time and harvest, of a full fruitage, of abundance and content for man and beast. And there is many a farm home, plain to the extreme, devoid of the veneer, a home that to the man of the town seems lacking in all the things that season life, but a home which virtue, intelligence, thrift, and courage transform into a garden of roses and a type of heaven. I do not justify neglect of the finer material things of life, nor plead for drab and homespun as passports to the courts of excellence; but I insist that plainness, simple living, absence of luxury, lack of polish that may be met with in the country, do not necessarily accom- pany a condition barren of the essentials of the higher life. Sometimes rural communities are ridiculed because of the trivial nature of their gossip, interests and ambitions. There may be some justice in the criticism, though the situation is pathetic rather than humorous. But is the charge wholly just? In comparing country with town we are comparing two environ- ments; necessarily, therefore, objects of gossip, interests, and ambitions differ therein. We expect that. It is no criticism to assert that fact. The test is not that of an existing difference, but of an essential quality. Is not Ben Bolt's new top buggy as legitimate a topic for discussion as is John Arthur Smythe's new automobile ? Does not the price of wheat mean as much to the hard-working grower as to the banker who may never see a grain of it? May not the grove at Turtle Lake yield as keen enjoyment as do the continental forests? Is the ambition to own a fine farm more ignoble than the desire to own shares in a copper mine? It really does not matter so much what one gossips about or what one's delights are or what the carvings on the rungs of ambition's ladder; the vital question is the effect of these things on character. Do they stunt or encourage the inner life? It must be admitted that country people do not al- 114 RURAL SOCIOLOGY ways accept their environing opportunities for enjoying the higher life of mind and heart. But do they differ in this respect from their cousins of the town ? SOLDIER SETTLEMENTS IN ENGLISH-SPEAKING COUNTRIES 1 ELWOOD MEAD ALL English-speaking countries except the United States have passed special soldier settlement legislation and made appropria- tions therefor. Where good free land exists he is usually given assistance in the individual purchase of private land, or such private land is purchased by the State in blocks. In countries like England, New Zealand, Victoria, and New South Wales it is largely a question of resuming land. When land-settlement boards do not already exist they have had to be created, except in the case of Ontario and some of the other Canadian Provinces, which are using their minister of lands, their agricultural, and forestry departments for this purpose. Handling applications and placing soldiers is largely decen- tralized and in the hands of voluntary local committees. The English and Canadian method of settlement is to estab- lish central farms on which to try out crops, to employ and train settlers, stock them with animals and implements for the use of the settlers, and about these farms to lay out farm blocks of varying dimensions. The Australian plan is to follow the policy of closer settlement already laid down and so successfully prosecuted. Explicit data concerning total appropriations are not avail- able. The usual method is to start the work with a small appro- priation and to add to it as required. In the case of Canadian Provinces and the Dominion, funds come from an appropriation for general development, probably derived from taxation; in England it is a disbursement from the treasury; in New Zea- land and Australia the funds are derived wholly from the sale of bonds in the London market. i Adapted from Bulletin. Department of the Interior, U. S. Reclamation Service (1919). PROBLEMS OF COUNTRY LIFE 115 In the two countries where a Federal Government exists, namely, Canada and Australia, tentative steps have been taken toward working out a cooperative plan the general nature of which is for the general Government to supply the land and to supervise its division, and maybe control. A general board has been appointed in each case and on which each of the states or provinces is represented. Undoubtedly when the period of de- mobilization approaches this plan in the case of Canada and Aus- tralia will be carried out in great detail. Aid to the soldier takes a variety of forms. There are, first, the allowances which are given a soldier for himself and family in the probationary period of working and beginning of expe- rience; under this head might be mentioned transportation which all of the countries offer the soldiers when they are travel- ing to training stations or to the land ; second, either the giving of land or the pricing it to the soldier at the cost of purchase and subdivision; third, the supplying of advice, guidance and instructions by all countries; fourth, the supply of grading, farm tools and sometimes farm animals free or at cost (under this head may be mentioned the supply of seeds and fertilizers) ; fifth, credit advances for the taking up of mortgages and incum- brances, for clearing, leveling, and ditching of lands, for erec- tion of fences, buildings, barns and houses, for the building of homes; sixth, assistance in the organization of cooperative buy- ing and selling associations and the giving of whatever aid the State Governments ought to give in this direction. In every instance the payments for the purchase of the land or for the reimbursement to the State for advances are stretched over a long period of time. The period of payment varies from 20 years, as in the case of Ontario, to 36Vs> years, which is the case in the Australian States. Advances for stock and develop- ments are repayable in from 10 to 25 years. The interest charged is seldom more than % cent more than the interest paid on public securities. In Canada freehold rights prevail In England the perpetual lease predominates. In New Zealand both the lease and .the freehold are given. In Australia some of the States, such as New South Wales, South Australia, and Queensland, do not give a freehold title. The occupier pays a rent- of about l 1 /^ per 116 RURAL SOCIOLOGY cent, of the capital value of the land and receives a perpetual lease which is inheritable and, under certain restrictions, trans- ferable. The other States offer a freehold title or a lease. The governments of all these countries- are not inclined to part with their grazing lands or lands that are suitable for further sub- divisions. They are usually leased for short or long terms. In nearly all cases, while the soldier is not legally required to maintain a residence, he can not lease his land or transfer it within a stated period and he can not meet his payments on the advances received unless he is giving his whole attention to his land. Residence, therefore, is practically assured. The selection of soldiers and the advice they receive is largely in the hands of local committees in the case of Canada, England, and Australia. Such local committees are usually expected to give their advice in the selection of lands to be purchased by the State. Some training of the soldier in agriculture, and some practi- cal farm experience is always expected. Such training and ex- perience are obtainable from three sources: Employment on farms, from agricultural colleges, or from farms associated with the colony enterprise. The legislative acts in all countries are practically complete. The organization for the administration of the acts is largely completed. Some private lands have been purchased and public lands set aside by all the English-speaking countries. It is not possible at this time to give a table of the amount of land so acquired. THE FARMER IN RELATION TO THE WELFARE OF THE WHOLE COUNTRY 1 THEODORE ROOSEVELT THERE is but one person whose welfare is as vital to the wel- fare of the whole county as is that of the wage-worker who does manual labor ; and that is the tiller of the soil the farmer. If there is one lesson taught by history it is that the permanent iFrom "The Man Who Works With His Hands," U. S. D. /,.,' Office of Secretary, Circ. 24. 1912. PROBLEMS OF COUNTRY LIFE 117 greatness of any State must ultimately depend more upon the character of its country population than upon anything else. No growth of cities, no growth of wealth, can make up for a loss in either the number or the character of the farming popula- tion. In the United States more than in almost any other coun- try we should realize this and should prize our country popula- tion. When this Nation began its independent existence it was as a Nation of farmers. The towns were small and were for the most part mere sea-coast trading and fishing ports. The chief industry of the country was agriculture, and the ordinary citizen was in some way connected with it. In every great crisis of the past a peculiar dependence has had to be placed upon the farm- ing population ; and this dependence has hitherto been justified. But it can not be justified in the future if agriculture is per- mitted to sink in the scale as compared with other employments. We can not afford to lose that preeminently typical American, the farmer who owns his own farm. BIBLIOGRAPHY Antrim, Ernest I. Fifty Million Strong. Pioneer Press, Van Wert, 0., 1916. Anderson, W. L. The Country Town. Baker, N. Y., 190G. Annals of American Academy of Political and Social Science, Vol. 40, March, 1912. Bailey, L. H. The Country Life Movement. Macmillan, N. Y., 1911. Cyclopedia of American Agric., Vol. IV. Farm and Community, Macmillan, N. Y., 1909. The State and the Farmer, Macmillan, N. Y., 1908. Bookwalter, J. W. Rural vs. Urban, Knickerbocker, N. Y., 1910. Buck, S. J. The Granger Movement. Harvard Univ. Press, Cam- bridge, 1913. Butterfield, K. L. Chapters in Rural Progress. University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1907. Farmer and the New Day, Macmillan, N. Y., 1919. Carver, T. N. Principles of Rural Economics, Ginn, Boston, 1911. Carver, T. N. Selected Readings in Rural Economics. Ginn, Boston, 1916. Country Life Commission (Report). Sturgis, N. Y., 1909. Davenport, E. Education for Efficiency. Heath, Boston, 1909. Douglass, Harlan Paul. The Little Town. Macmillan, N. Y., 1919. Fiske, G. W. The Challenge of the Country. Association Press, N. Y., 1912. Gillette, John M. Constructive Rural Sociology. Sturgis, N. Y., 1912. Groves, Ernest R, Rural Problems of To-day. Association Press, N. Y., 1918. 118 9 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Hart, J. K. Educational Resources of Village and Rural Communi- ties. Macmillan, N. Y., 1913. Herrick, M. T. Rural Credits, Land and Cooperative. Appleton, N. Y., 1914. Howe, Fred. The Land and the Soldier. Chas. Scribner's Sons, 1919. Morman, J. B. Rural Credits. Macrnillan, N. Y., 1915. Nourse, E. G. Agricultural Economics. The Univ. Chicago Press, 1916. Plunkett, Sir Horace. The Rural Life Problem of the United States. Macmillan, N. Y., 1910. Proceedings of the First National Country Life Conference. Balti- more, 1919. Pub. by Secy. Natl. Country Life Association, Ith- aca, N. Y. Proceedings of the Natl. Conference of Social Work, Pittsburgh, 1917, 315 Plymouth Court, Chicago, 111. Roberston, J. W. Conservation of Life in Rural Districts. Assoc. Press, N. Y., 1911. Ross, E. A. Folk Depletion as a Cause of Rural Decline. Pub. Am. Sociological Society 11 : 21-30, 1916. Sociology of Rural Life. American Sociological Society, Vol. XI, 1916. Taylor, H. C. Agricultural Economics. Macmillan, N. Y., 1912. Vincent, Geo. E. Countryside and Nation. Pub. Am. Sociological Society, 11 : 1-11, 1916. Vogt, Paul L. Introduction to Rural Sociology. Appleton, N. Y., 1917. Weld, L. D. H. Marketing of Farm Products. Macmillan, N. Y., 1916. Wilson, W. H. Evolution of the Country Community. Pilgrim, Bos- ton, 1912. Country versus City. Pub. Am. Sociological Soc., 11:12-20, 1916. CHAPTER VI SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS A. COOPERATION THE MORAL BASIS OF COOPERATION 1 THOMAS N. CARVER So far as I know, everybody agrees that cooperation would be a good thing. Nevertheless, there is little cooperation as yet. If we all agree that it is a good thing, why do we not cooperate ? This is a question which has puzzled many of us. I believe I have one or two suggestions which go pretty nearly to the root of the matter. The causes of this lack of cooperation are funda- mentally moral, and we must attack the problem at this point before we can make much progress. All problems hang in clus- ters. You can't separate from our moral problems the eco- nomic problems that all hang on the same stem. I believe if you will look about your own neighborhood you will find that if you have a neighbor who is very careful about his own rights and your obligations, he is not an easy neighbor to work with. These two things mean the same. His rights are your obliga- tions, his obligations are your rights. They are different names for the same thing, different sides for the same shield. Suppose 3'ou are the same way. You two will never get along together and work together in this world. A whole community made up of people of this kind will never cooperate. On the other hand, if your neighbor is very careful of his obligations and your rights, he is easy to get along with. And if you are very care- ful of your obligations and his rights, you are also easy to get along with. You two can work together peaceably and amicably. A whole neighborhood made up of people of that kind can work together and cooperate. Here is some work for the moral and religious agencies. i Adapted from "Proceedings of National Farmers' Congress," p. 191. 119 120 RURAL SOCIOLOGY There is a story of an aged savage who, after having lived in civilized communities most of his life, returned in his old age to his native tribe, saying that he had tried civilization for forty years and it wasn't worth the trouble. Much of the philosophy of civilization is summed up in that remark. Civilization con- sists largely in making trouble. Genius, in the individual, has been said to consist in the capacity for taking pains in one's work. It is this capacity which marks the superior race as well as the superior individual. They who find the taking of pains too burdensome to be borne, will naturally decide that civiliza- tion is not worth the trouble. They who do not find it so very burdensome to take pains, will naturally decide that civilization is worth the trouble, and will therefore become civilized. This principle applies to every stage of civilization and prog- ress. The greatest advancement is made by those who are cap- able of taking the greatest pains. It applies especially to agri- cultural progress. It is more trouble to select than not to select seed, and to select it in the field than in the bin. It is more trouble to test cows than to not test them, to keep accounts than not to keep them, to diversify or rotate crops than not to diver- sify or rotate, to mix fertilizers intelligently than to buy them already mixed, to cooperate with one's pig-headed neighbors, especially if he himself is a little pig-headed, than to go to it alone. It is also more profitable. In all these and a multitude of other cases it is found that it pays to take trouble. Suppose we can secure a higher development of these two moral qualities: first, the deep sense of loyalty and obligation to the neighborhood; and second, the willingness and capacity for taking trouble. Then I believe the cooperative movement among farmers would make rapid headway. FARMERS' COOPERATIVE EXCHANGES 1 ALEXANDER E. CANCE WITHIN the past few years very much has been said and writ- ten about the unprofitableness of agriculture, and on the other i Adapted from Bulletin of the Extension Service, Massachusetts Agricul- tural College, Amherst, 1914. SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 121 hand much complaint has been made of the high cost of living and the desperate straits of the consumer. Many causes have been advanced to account for this state of affairs, but probably none more frequently than the somewhat vague accusation that the middlemen take all the profits. It is asserted that the farmer must take what he is offered for his products and pay what he is asked for his supplies and equip- ment that he fixes the price neither of what he sells nor what he buys. In a general way and considering farmers individ- ually, this is undoubtedly true. When it is said that this is due to the machinations of predatory middlemen the statement needs some qualifications. In the main, the system of middlemen has arisen and developed with the growth of farming for the market. As soon as farmers began to give up producing solely for themselves and to raise crops to sell, the question of means of disposal of crops became very important. One of the first middlemen was the local buyer, often the storekeeper, who took the farmer's produce, sold him dry goods, groceries and supplies, and in his turn passed the corn and eggs, feathers and honey, on to the user or manufacturer. But division of occupations and industries resulting in the growth of cities and the concentration of population on the one hand and the call for more raw materials of agriculture on the other, gradually separated the countryman from the urban dweller geographically, commercially and socially. Commer- cially the division meant that the farmer must devote himself to growing crops and producing raw materials of food and clothing, that the manufacturer and artisan give themselves up to their vocations; hence of necessity there grew up a lot of marketmen, transporters, storage men, purveyors and the like, who made a business of getting goods from the farmer to the consumer and from the manufacturer to the farmer. This body of men holds a strategic position which has been strengthened by combination, capital investments, natural and trade monopolies, and a beneficent Congress. It is not difficult to understand that they are powerful because they have by organization and superior bargaining ability come to dominate 122 RURAL SOCIOLOGY almost the entire trade in raw materials and manufactured products. It is only natural that the middlemen should endeavor to in- crease their gains by buying cheap and selling dear, that they should specialize and multiply as the wants of consumers grow and the sources of supplies become more and more distant. The widening gap between the farmer and the users of the farmer's product makes a place for a large number of go-betweens. Aside from the fact that these men are specialists in their various activities, that they furnish the money to store and distribute the products of producers, to find markets and facili- tate trade, they have in many instances taken over all the mar- keting activities of the farmer. They often purchase apples upon the tree, pick them, grade them, pack them and ship them, severing all connection between the farmer and his product be- fore his fruit is harvested. Differing somewhat in degree, the same may in many instances be said of tobacco, live stock, poul- try, eggs, potatoes, grain, etc. The farmer buys his fertilizer and feed prepared, mixed, bagged, labeled, delivered by the re- tail dealer into his wagon and paid for by the dealer, who gives the farmer credit. The farmer is a producer of goods, nothing more. Possibly that is sufficient, but if so, he should be an in- telligent producer, purchasing shrewdly and selling his produce at a reasonable margin of profit. Now it is very evident that farm methods are improving; the farmer is a better producer than he was years ago. But it is also evident that much of the advantage he has gained through education, applied science, government aid, better equipment and more intelligent practice, has been altogether lost because he has not been able to dispose of his crop or to buy his supplies and equipments advantageously. In some agricultural industries in the United States and al- most everywhere in Europe, farmers have secured great financial advantages and acquired a keen sense of business by combining their interests, by buying and selling together. In some coun- tries the results of cooperative business methods are marvelous. Denmark has become rich and world-famous, and little Ireland, for years known as the very poorest agricultural country in Eu- rope, has made remarkable progress, simply because the farmers SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 123 of these countries have learned to sell their products in a business- like way and buy their agricultural requirements together. They give their attention to production but they also see to it that their products are sold intelligently and wisely by their own paid agents. The farmer cannot very well learn all there is to know about any market but a hundred farmers can hire a marketing expert to handle their products and can afford to pay him a good salary out of increased returns that otherwise would go to a host of middlemen. The market of to-day demands two or three very simple things of the producer. One of the first and simplest is that the quality of the product be dependable. The market desires such products as are of known quality, whether this quality be first, second or third. One great reason why farmers do not receive the highest price for their crops is that they have not learned to ship to the market uniform grades or qualities. When, for example, a barrel of apples is packed it is likely to contain apples of the first grade, second grade and culls; perhaps a large part of the barrel cannot be used at all. The second barrel may be just like the first or it may be something very different. In the second place, the market demands a neat and uniform package. Every marketman in the country complains of the fact that farmers have little real business sense in the matter of putting up their products in packages. One finds potatoes com- ing into the market some in barrels, some in boxes, some in bags, some in other packages of every description and degree of de- crepitude. A uniform, neat and tasty package suited to the commodity which it contains is a great factor in increasing the price of the product. In the third place, the market wants products shipped reg- ularly in quantities sufficient to supply the demand. It is no little matter to the marketman that he can get all the potatoes he wants one week and cannot get any the next. What he de- sires is, perhaps, a carload of potatoes every other day for six months and a carload every three days for the other six months. At any rate, it is essential that he receive his shipments regularly from the shipper. These simple essentials dependable goods, packed uniformly and neatly, well graded, shipped regularly in sufficient quantities 124 RURAL SOCIOLOGY to meet the demand, can hardly be supplied by the small indi- vidual farmer ; and because they cannot be supplied in that way, the marketman and consumer naturally go to the jobber to get their goods. The jobber pays the farmer as small a price as he can and charges the consumer as high a price as he can for his costly services of packing, grading and distributing the prod- uct uniformly. European farmers in England, Ireland, Denmark and other countries found themselves confronted with the same marketing conditions which the farmers of the United States have found. They struggled with it just as the farmers of the United States are struggling, but unlike the majority of the farmers of the United States, they struggled to some effect. The farmers of the Old World are small farmers. Not many of them produce more than a mere handful of products of any one sort. Some of them found themselves with no home market and were obliged to ship their products across the seas into foreign countries. Some of them found an organized opposition to the sale of their goods in other countries. Nevertheless, the European farmers in the countries mentioned found the way out by organizing themselves into small cooperative selling associations. By pool- ing their products they were able to facilitate their marketing because, in the first place, they were able to pack uniformly, supply the market sufficiently and regularly, and because of the supply which they controlled, they were able to meet success- fully organized opposition to their interests. No other poultry in the world is packed as well as Danish poultry; no other eggs are graded as well as Danish eggs; there is no bacon that commands a higher price than Danish bacon, This is true chiefly because Danish poultry, Danish eggs, and Danish bacon are skillfully packed, uniformly graded and shipped regularly under the guarantee of the shipper. It is known the world over that this cooperation has been the salva- tion of Danish agriculture, that the farmer of Denmark is to-day the most important man in his country and is important chiefly because he has known how to organize. It is said that the number of cooperative organizations in Denmark is four times the number of farmers ; that is to say, on the average, each far- mer in Denmark belongs to four cooperative organizations, SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 125 In Ireland and England cooperative buying and selling have not yet reached the perfection they have in Denmark. Never- theless, the Irish farmer has for some years been selling his bacon, eggs and poultry on the markets of the world very suc- cessfully because he has been shipping them through his local cooperative societies. The United States has lagged somewhat behind in the matter of cooperative endeavor among farmers; nevertheless, there are some examples of very successful cooperation even in our own country. Perhaps nowhere in the world is there a stronger sell- ing organization than the California Fruit Growers' Exchange. The Exchange has passed through various vicissitudes and has met successfully the most serious opposition from railroads, com- mission men and other opposing interests. It is now so strongly entrenched in handling the citrus fruit of the Far West that it is a mere truism to say that without it citrus fruit growing on the Pacific Coast would be an utter failure. The Hood Kiver and other northwestern apple-shipping asso- ciations have been almost as successful in marketing apples as the citrus fruit men have in handling their California oranges. The Hood River apple growers have a world-wide reputation for neat and uniform packages of thoroughly dependable apples which are absolutely guaranteed to the consumer. These apples are packed by authorized inspectors and shipped by experts. They are sold on the markets of the world by agents of the fruit growers' association and all the returns for the apples go to the grower after deducting the charges of transportation and the services of agents employed* by the association itself. Moreover, the truck growers of the Atlantic Coast and the Gulf region have made use of associated selling for some years. The example of the Eastern Shore of Virginia Produce Exchange is most worthy of imitation. Beginning a few years ago with a number of disgruntled farmers who had been shipping their per- ishable products individually to the markets of Philadelphia and other cities, it has grown to be one of the strongest marketing associations in the United States, doing millions of dollars worth of business and putting upon the market products guaranteed by the Exchange in which the commission men and retailers have the utmost confidence. 126 RURAL SOCIOLOGY These cooperative associations, in fact, are becoming more and more numerous wherever specialized products, usually of a per- ishable nature, must be put upon a market at some distance. Wherever they have been established successfully they have suc- ceeded in bringing to the producer a higher price for his product, a cheaper charge for transportation, a more dependable and a wider market, and consequently an increased prosperity. On the other hand, the consumer has been able to get a product of standard and dependable grade at a price not exceeding very greatly, if at all, the price which he paid for a poorly graded product unreliable in quality. Nowhere is it more true that "In union there is strength" than in the shipment of perishable products to commission men. The united farmers have been able to protect themselves in a way the isolated individual farmer could never hope to do, against commission men, transportation agencies, and other al- lied interests. The fact that they were a'ble to choose between twenty or thirty different markets during the season gave them an added advantage in selling their products. Cooperation among farmers in New England has never been very enthusiastically received although it must be said that several very successful farmers' cooperative societies, both for purchase and for sale of products, have been formed in our east- ern states. Some of the alleged reasons for the lack of enthus- iasm on the part of our New England farmers are first, the in- dividualism of the farmer, his desire to do his own marketing and to make his own bargains, and perhaps his dislike of inter- fering in his neighbor's business or to permit his neighbor to interfere in what he considers private matters. As a matter of fact, the old independent farmer about whom so much has been said has practically gone out of existence. The farmer of to-day depends upon his market quite as much as the grocer does. His products are frequently prepared for market, shipped to mar- ket, handled by marketmen in precisely the same way as are the products of the manufacturer. Consequently the farmer is interested in the amount his neighbor sells and in the quantity the consumer in his marketing town purchases. He is interested in railroads, transportation, banking, and all means of exchange, and the markets of the world measurably affect him. SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 127 In the second place, it is said that the farmer has not sufficient business ability to conduct a cooperative organization. While this is true in a number of instances, it should not be true of the farmers of New England who are said to be as shrewd bargainers as any farmers in the world. The farmers of New England are intelligent and should be as enterprising and as capable of han- dling the cooperative associations as the farmers of Ireland, the farmers of Denmark or the farmers of Texas. Another legitimate reason for the failure of cooperative or- ganizations among farmers has been the fact that most organiza- tions of farmers have had so many purposes that the real object of the association has become obscured. This has been one diffi- culty in the formation of business cooperative associations by the Grange. Again, too, a good many of these cooperative so- cieties have failed because the members of them have had no common interest; a cooperative organization is a very simple thing but each should be composed of men who are bound to- gether by some common interest. A large number of purposes or objects is likely to defeat the whole end and aim of a business enterprise. One of the first essentials to successful cooperation is suffi- cient material in a given community with which to do a coopera- tive business. On the other hand, for purposes of cooperation, it is alto- gether best that the cooperating area be rather small. It is much easier for a number of farmers in a small community to organize for purposes of purchase or sale than it is for the far- mers scattered over a county or two counties to organize. Con- sequently intending cooperators might well consider the growing of one or two special crops by all the members of the cooperative association. The third great essential to cooperation is loyalty. There is no use considering a cooperative society unless the members are loyal to the association even to the point of suffering some loss for the sake of keeping the association alive and prosperous. This loyalty is one of the most noticeable features of cooperative societies abroad and of successful cooperative societies in the United States. The members uphold their societies against all charges, furnish the required raw material even when the coop- 128 RURAL SOCIOLOGY erative society pays them less than they could receive outside, and sometimes even when cooperative selling is not always as successful as individual selling. The fourth essential is singleness of purpose. It is true that a great many of the cooperative societies in the United States both buy and sell but it is also true that most of these successful so- cieties are organized either for buying or for selling only. A cooperative society should be organized to sell apples, or to buy feeds, fertilizers or other agricultural requirements, or to store cabbages or onions, and if these same farmers desire to cooper- ate with others for some other purpose they should form a sec- ond association. The fifth essential is incorporation. Nearly every success- ful cooperative society in the United States and many abroad are incorporated under state laws. The incorporation of a so- ciety is a simple matter but very many fine results accompany it. In the first place, the management is a board of directors definitely provided for in the articles of incorporation. In the second place, an incorporated society cannot go out of business during the limit of time fixed by the articles of incorporation, whereas, a society organized otherwise may stop business at any time, frequently with disastrous results. In the third place, the members of an incorporated society are liable for the debts of the society only in proportion to the number of shares which they have taken ; and finally, the incorporated society is subject to the inspection of the state and all its business must be con- ducted on approved business lines. The sixth essential is paid, efficient management. A great many of our cooperative societies have gone to the wall because the management was inferior or because the management was in too many hands. The best societies in the United States, in fact almost the only societies that are successful, are those that have a single manager. Moreover, if this manager does any business at all and is at all capable he should be paid and well paid. Managers of some of the larger cooperative societies are paid remarkably good salaries. For example, the manager of one of the vegetable exchanges is receiving $10,000 a year. The seventh essential is absolute publicity regarding the af- fairs of the society; this includes a full and complete oversight SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 129 of the books, papers, and policies of the exchange by its mem- bers and, in addition, a careful supervision of the accounts at stated intervals. Another essential to successful cooperation is that the business be done as far as possible on a cash basis. Extension of credit has been a rock on which a good many otherwise successful or- ganizations have been wrecked beyond repair. The temptation to extend credit to members or to outside interests is very great, and though sometimes a credit business may be carried on very successfully, in general it is decidedly safer to make all business cash business. A corollary to this is that sufficient cash should be provided to carry on the work of the exchange effectively. Finally, every cooperative association should be organized on strictly cooperative principles. A number of cooperative so- cieties, both in this country and abroad, are merely joint stock companies, and some of them are operating more or less suc- cessfully. Nevertheless, there are some principles which are es- sential to the true spirit of cooperative endeavor and which, in the long run, give better financial and social results than others. THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLES OF COOPERATION The essential difference between a cooperative society and a joint stock company is this: A joint stock company is a com- bination of capital or shares. Capital is invested in the busi- ness and all the profits are supposed to accrue from the use of capital, consequently all profits are returned as dividends to the shareholders. It makes no difference whether the dividend be 2 per cent, or 20 per cent, or 200 per cent., it is distributed among the men who hold the shares. Again, the men who hold the capital stock in a joint stock company are the men who do the voting. They do not vote as men, they vote as shares ; the man who has ten shares has ten votes; he who has but two shares has two votes; the thought being that the more shares a man has the more powerful he should be in determining the policy of the company. Now the principle of a cooperative society is fundamentally different. A cooperative society recognizes the need of capital but it also recognizes the fact that a reputable concern may ob- tain capital anywhere at the ruling rate of interest. The ruling 130 RURAL SOCIOLOGY rate of interest is now between 5 and 6 per cent. Why should a man who invests only his money in any business receive more than the 5 or 6 per cent, that is recognized as legitimate pay- ment for capital, the rate that a bank will charge? So in a strictly cooperative society it is agreed that capital shall be paid merely the ruling rate of interest, say 6 per cent., and that all further profits shall be returned to the men who have supplied the business of the cooperative society, on the basis of the amount of business they have furnished. That is to say, in the coopera- tive creamery, the profits will be distributed among the mem- bers who have furnished milk to the creamery, in proportion to the amount of milk they have furnished. The man who has purchased shares will draw 6 per cent, on his capital invest- ment, but the men who have been responsible for the success of the exchange will receive whatever profits there are in accord- ance with the amount of business they have done. In the next place, the cooperative society is democratic ; it is a union not of shares, but a union of individuals. Instead of allowing each share to have a vote, each man is given one vote. The principle is this : It is believed that each member, no mat- ter what his contribution to the capital of the association, has as much right to vote concerning its policies as any other share- holder; just as a citizen, no matter how many children he has or whether he has any children at all, has a right to vote for school officers. In a democracy every man has a vote; so it is in a cooperative society. One man, one vote. Further than this, the cooperative society recognizes that there should be a limitation on the amount of capital stock any man may control. Surely, in a cooperative society the capital should be contributed by members approximately according to the amount of business which each man expects to do with the society. If a cooperative society is established with 200 shares, it is quite legitimate to say that no member shall hold more than one-tenth of the total number or twenty shares. This keeps the shares well distributed and makes for democracy. Another point of importance is the transfer of shares. It is ordinarily unwise to have men investing money in a cooperative concern in which they are not interested. A cooperative so- ciety, in the first place, should be formed of men who are inter- SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 131 ested in a particular line of cooperation. Consequently, when any member drops out and wishes to dispose of his shares, he should not be permitted to sell them to any person he pleases for, in that case, he might sell them to some person opposed to the interests of the cooperative society. Hence, the proviso that a member may not make a transfer of his shares that is not first approved by the board of directors. These are the fundamentals upon which a cooperative society should be founded. If placed on this foundation, and the mem- bers remain loyal, success is reasonably assured. SOCIAL EFFECTS OF COOPERATION IN EUROPE * CHARLES O. GILL THE expansion and magnitude of the cooperative movement are no more impressive than are its social effects. In mention- ing these it is not intended to give the impression that in every community where there is a cooperative society all the good results are observable which are commonly attributed to co- operation. Doubtless large numbers of cooperators think chiefly of the reduced cost of their purchases, of the higher prices they have received for their products, or of other material benefits. But it is none the less true that in this economic movement the application to business of certain ethical principles of a high character has produced a variety of other good results which also are well worth consideration. The good results of cooperation among the poor farmers in Europe are incalculably great. It has emancipated them from the usurer. In many places small farmers had never known freedom from oppressive creditors until the founding of rural co- operative institutions. By these they have been released from this bondage. Whole communities of people have been emanci- pated. By capitalizing the common honesty of the poor, cooper- ation has secured for the small farmer at the lowest rates of interest, money to be used by him for productive purposes while 1 Adapted from Report of Commissions, pp. 127-143. Federal Council of the Churches of Christ in America. Missionary Education Movement of the U. S. and Canada, X. Y., 1916. 132 RURAL SOCIOLOGY the time fixed for payment is well suited to his convenience and to the needs of his occupation. Agricultural cooperation in dis- tribution has enabled the farmer to work for his own support instead of for the support of a large number of superfluous dis- tributors who constituted an enormous burden resting upon his shoulders. Before the introduction of the cooperative system the small farmer in all business operations had been discriminated against. He had been forced to buy inferior goods at high prices and to sell his products at prices unreasonably low. Probably the farmer 's business was the only one where products were sold at wholesale while its requirements were purchased at retail prices. But cooperation has changed all this. It has enabled the small farmer to place himself on a level with the large farmer in producing articles of good quality as well as in the matter of prices received for them. It has enabled the smallest holders to obtain at moderate prices goods of guaranteed quality. Thus while it promotes efficiency on the farm, cooperation secures freedom in the market and so contributes to the highest life in the home. Agricultural cooperative societies engage in many benevolent enterprises for their members. The Raiffeisen banks in Ger- many, for example, support infant and continuation schools. They furnish the ordinary schools with maps, musical instru- ments and other equipment. They make grants to village libraries, organize circles for reading and acting and establish evening clubs and clubs for juvenile members. They conduct village institutes, build meeting halls and establish children's savings banks, telephone services and arbitration courts. They appoint local cattle shows and hold regular meetings at which instructive lectures on cooperation and agriculture and other topics are delivered. They form gymnastic societies and bath- ing establishments, cattle and poultry breeding societies, singing societies, local nursing centers, infant aid associations and anti- consumption leagues, and engage in other good works of great variety. Not only does the increased prosperity of cooperators secure for them better education through the ordinary channels but the special facilities provided by the society, the training in doing cooperative business, together with mutual association SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 133 under these favorable conditions, the close contact and associa- tion with the larger world which cooperation always assures, all result in intellectual development and help to increase the in- telligence and add to the fund of general information of the co- operators. It has been observed both in country and in city that coopera- tion has a most marked effect on the promotion of thrift. The cooperative society provides the farmer with the means of pur- suing productive enterprises and consequently he engages in them. He gets out of debt and as a rule begins to save. In the urban movement it is often the case that the hard drinking la- borer who is head of a wretched family is induced to trade with the cooperative society and finds in a few months that he has money to his credit drawing interest. It is likely that he has never had in his possession money enough to supply his family with food for a week in advance. But his accumulated savings give him hope and he is encouraged to save further. Many a man of this sort, whose original investment had been only a dollar and twenty-five cents, eventually has acquired as much as five hundred dollars. The condition of his family of course becomes greatly improved. When a man begins to save, his money, instead of going into the dram shop, is invested in the cooperative institution. In the country as well as in the city the wastefulness and the evil effects of alcoholic intemperance become recognized and the influence of the cooperative society is thrown against it. In Dungloe, Ireland, the cooperative store is the only one in the village which does not sell spirituous liquors, though it is doing a larger business than any other drug store. In another place where the people wished to form a cooperative society and run a store for household goods the Irish Agricultural Organization Society refused assistance because the people who desired to co- operate thought it necessary to sell whiskey in order to hold their business in competition with the other stores, all of which engaged in the liquor traffic. In Austria and Hungary the priests are the more active in the promotion of the cooperative movement because the members spend their evenings in the co- operative society rooms instead of in the public houses. In Bel- gium the influence of the cooperative societies is strongly used 134 RURAL SOCIOLOGY in favor of abstinence from strong drinks. In nearly all the cafes and restaurants connected with the cooperative institutions spirits are not sold while customers are encouraged to drink light beer or non-alcoholic beverages. Thus the cooperative movement has become one of the strongest movements in the old world both in city and in country for the promotion of tem- perance. One of the most marked effects of the movement is the pro- motion of business integrity. This is a matter of common ob- servation and experience and is well known throughout the co- operative world. For example where there is a small rural cooperative credit society, a person ordinarily cannot borrow from it unless he has acquired a reputation for reliability. As a consequence a loan comes as a certificate of character, while a refusal of one may well be a cause of serious reflection on the part of the would-be borrower. As a result, people learn to care more for their character and reputation in their dealings with one another. It becomes manifest to all that honesty is an essential quality for business efficiency. In agricultural cooperation high prices are secured only be- cause the good quality of the produce is guaranteed by the so- ciety. Any member who fails to conform to the standard will be fined or excluded from its privileges. The consumer and the careful producer therefore are protected from loss resulting from the misrepresentation of the careless or dishonest producer. By making the producer more careful, much waste and injustice is avoided, while it is continually being demonstrated that a high standard of business morality in the individual is an as- set both for himself and for his community. The promotion of honesty by the cooperative movement comes also more directly through the atmosphere it creates. Coopera- tive business promotes what is called the cooperative spirit. It is a consciousness of brotherhood. Under its influence one does not wish to injure one's neighbor. Cheating and sharp practice are so out of place and altogether discordant with the cooperative spirit as to insure their infrequency. The independence, courage and self-respect, induced by free- dom from debt, material prosperity, thrift, and temperance are also increased by reason of membership in a firmly knitted self- SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 135 help association of responsibility and power. In one community visited it was remarked to the investigator that you can tell a cooperator by his independent bearing'. In more than one locality attention was called to the fact that on the part of the bankers and business men in their dealings with the small farmers and the poor people, there has been a marked disap- pearance of condescension and the air of favor and patronage. In parts of Ireland visited the respectful treatment on the part of others is keenly appreciated by the cooperators, while the system has caused a greater fellowship and better mutual understanding between the classes. There is a social and industrial leveling up which is satisfactory to all concerned. All this points to the powerful influence of cooperation in the promotion of democracy. The cooperative movement was essen- tially democratic in origin. Both the original founders and the prime movers were mainly from the class most directly benefited. That the democratic principle is the basis of success in agri- cultural cooperation is proved by the fact that attempts of farmers to combine on other principles almost invariably have failed, while in cities no other industrial system has been attended with social results which are so satisfactory. True cooperation which alone can hope for enduring prosperity is founded on the principle of pure democracy. The educational effect of the cooperative system is such as to give the wage earners a keen interest in public affairs and to cause them to realize their own power and responsibility in them. That the cooperators use this power intelligently may be seen in the large number of their representatives in the public bodies and the creditable manner in which they acquit themselves. It is confidently asserted that 70 per cent, of the cooperators are on the side of political progress. Cooperation is becoming one of the strongest aids to efficiency in political democracy. It is the hope of most leaders in the cooperative movement that it will do much to make war less frequent. The cooperative alliances of different countries will undoubtedly increase their trade with one another. Already reference has been made to an international alliance of cooperators. The members of a great international business organization will understand the folly of going to war with one another. Among cooperators there is a 136 RURAL SOCIOLOGY minimum of mutual suspicion. "With them the recognition of brotherhood and community of interest is a habit of mind. Add to this their increased intelligence, larger information, broader outlook, and increased political efficency, and we must recognize that the bonds which hold the people of the earth together in peace will be strengthened as the cooperative movement advances throughout the world. The experience of the cooperative movement indicates that the application of right ethics to business results well, not only to business itself but to the character of those engaged in it and to all parts of the social fabric. It was observed by members of the American Commission that in nearly all the European countries from Italy to Ireland "the great body of cooperators, especially among the leaders, think of agricultural cooperation as a sort of social reform and in some cases almost as a religion." The admirable moral and social results are recognized nearly everywhere. Not only has it taught illiterate men to read, made " dissipated men sober, careless men thrifty, and dishonest men square" but it has made friends out of neighbors who had always been enemies, while estrangements among men through religious antipathies and the inheritance of ancient feuds have yielded to its influence and have disappeared. It is natural that sound principles of economic justice and the spirit of brotherhood should create enthusiasm in those who are engaged in the movement. In the cooperative enterprises there- fore laborers are more contented, enjoy their work better and labor and live with more zest. Large numbers of capable executives are engaged in the movement at great personal sacri- fice to themselves of time and money. Many men, because of the same spirit, are living in great frugality though rendering invalu- able service. Frequently organizers of cooperative societies in whole hearted devotion live on the lowest possible salaries, suffer- ing hardships and prolonged absence from congenial homes. The Agricultural Organization Society in Ireland impressed the in- vestigator as a Christian institution quite as really as did the churches in that country. The movement in the vicinity of Dungloe, Ireland, has an atmosphere like that of a Christian mis- sionary enterprise in its pioneer stage of development. In two SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 137 other places in Donegal, Ireland, two meetings attended were like religious services. The cooperative movement in the vi- cinity of the Temple Crone Society is regarded by the people as divinely inaugurated, inspired, directed and sustained. It could scarcely be expected that a movement with such bene- ficial results could have been inaugurated and successfully furthered apart from close association with the Christian churches. In many of the cooperative enterprises it was found that the clergymen have played an important part. B. OWNEKSHIP AND TENANCY TENANT FARMING 1 JOHN M. GILLETTE THERE is a tendency somewhat pronounced toward the opera- tion of farms by tenants rather than by the owners. The owners ceased operation to the extent of almost ten per cent., in the twenty years between 1880 and 1900, and tenantry was sub- stituted. The results appear to ensue chiefly from three causes. First, the investment in farm lands by city residents generally in proximity to their municipality, and second, from the retire- ment of well-to-do farmers into the neighboring city or village. Third, a larger period is required to save money with which to buy a farm than was previously the case. As a consequence, each successive generation of farmers must remain longer in the tenant class. The tendencies in the United States are not decisively toward extended consolidation and enlarged holdings. In the regions where the enlargement is most noteworthy, it is apparently due to the operation of causes other than the advantage in production which arises from large holdings. Quick and large rises in land values, as in Iowa and Illinois, have induced multitudes of i Adapted from "Constructive Rural Sociology," pp. 130-137, by permis- sion, copyright 1913, 1916, by Sturgis & Walton Company, N. Y. Copy- right now held by The Macmillaii Company. 138 RURAL SOCIOLOGY owners to sell out and go to newer regions in the United States and Canada where several times the amount they owned can be purchased for what they received. In the Southeastern States it is the outcome of the dependency of agriculture on an ignorant, colored, labor population. Further, it is likely that when the possibility of procuring cheap land in the United States and Canada has passed farmers in the improved agricultural regions will cease to sell to neigh- boring farmers. When this point is reached, and when, also, estates begin to be divided among the descendants of present farmers, we may expect to see the cessation of the consolidation tendency and the development of small and intensive farming. Farms are almost always leased in Great Britain. In France 77.6 per cent., and in Germany 83.6 per cent, of the farmers own all or a part of their farms, while in the United States 35.3 per cent, are tenants. There are two opposing views as to the effects of tenant farm- ing and small proprietorship. 1. Young and Mill held that small proprietors form the basis of individual prosperity, independence, and well being. Young, who traveled through Europe in 1787-8, and who believed in large agriculture, testified that while there was much poor farm- ing on small properties, "yet the industry of the possessors was so conspicuous and meritorious that no commendation would be too great for it. It was sufficient to prove that property in land is, of all others, the most active instigator to severe and incessant labor. ' ' He thinks the way to get mountains farmed to the very top is to let them out as property to small owners. Mill reviewed the facts and literature of the continental method of small holdings as opposed to the English practice of large estates in his attempt to get England to see the mistake and loss incident to its practice. He believed the evidence proved that peasant properties conduced to the moral and social welfare of the laboring class by increasing their industry to what a Swiss statistical writer described as "almost superhuman industry"; that territorial arrangement is "an instrument of popular edu- cation." "The mental faculties will be most developed where they are most exercised; and what gives more exercise to them than the having multitudes of interests, none of which can be SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 139 neglected, and which can be provided for only by varied efforts of will and intelligence ? ' ' Small proprietorship is ''propitious to the moral virtues of prudence, temperance, and self-control. ' ' Laborers are liable to spend their entire wage. ' * The tendency of peasant proprietors, and of those who hope to become proprietors, is to the contrary extreme ; to take even too much 'thought for the morrow' " ; to be penurious. Even among the pleasure-loving French people of the agricultural sort ' ' the spirit of thrift is diffused through the rural population in a manner most gratifying as a whole, and which in individual instances errs rather on the side of excess than defect." Mr. Mill further holds that small holdings would not interfere with the desirable and much needed purpose on the part of the workers to exercise prudence and restraint in the increase of population. Some writers had held that peasant proprietors would be likely to multiply up to the limits of food production and thus force a minute subdivision of land. Mr. Mill believes that without education and habituation into the exercise of pru- dence the land proprietors, like other workers, would increase in number up to the food limits. But that if indoctrinated like their urban brothers they would exercise due restraint. Furthermore, he marshals facts from Switzerland, Norway, Prussia, and other continental countries to demonstrate that peasant proprietorship not only did not evoke over-population but rather checked it. Concluding his chapters on peasant proprietors he says : "As a result of this inquiry into the direct operation and in- direct influences of peasant properties, I conceive it to be established that there is no necessary connection between this form of landed property and an imperfect state of the arts of production ; that it is favorable in quite as many respects as it is unfavorable, to the most effective use of the powers of the soil; that no other existing state of agricultural economy has so bene- ficial an effect on the industry, the intelligence, the frugality, and prudence of the population, nor tends on the whole so much to discourage an improvident increase of their numbers; and that no existing state, therefore, is on the whole so favorable, both to their rural and their physical welfare. Compared with the 140 RURAL SOCIOLOGY English system of cultivation by hired labor, it must be regarded as eminently beneficial to the laboring class. French history strikingly confirms these conclusions. Three times during the course of ages the peasantry have been purchasers of land ; and these times immediately preceded the three principal eras of French agricultural prosperity." 2. The other view is that effective farming in the future can only be done by a system of large properties and tenant renters whose rights are protected by legal provision. It is held that the capital which needs to be invested in machinery and equip- ment in order to make farming competitively profitable and pos- sible cannot be provided by small owners. They will be forced to sell to capitalistic owners who can make the large investments needed. Moreover, the fall in prices places a shock on the land- lords and farmers which is not felt by other callings in the same manner. Small proprietors have nothing to shield them from the shock and must give way to men of larger resources. It would seem that recent events and the spirit of present times is in favor of the position held by Mill. The progress that is being made in agricultural development in Europe and Great Britain is most conspicuous just where the larger estates are being broken up, parceled out, and vested in numerous small proprietors. This is notably the case in Ireland and in Den- mark and in both countries farming and dairying have made prodigious progress, and in both the consequences have been of the best for the character and intelligence of the citizenship. New interest in life, renewed industry, progressive and coopera- tive undertakings, enriched social and moral life, have been the results. Of much importance to rural sociology is the effect on rural social life of absentee landlordism and of tenant farming. The economic effects of absentee landlordism with its attendant abuses has had historic examples. Perhaps the most notable recent one has been that of Ireland. The profits of the large estates were spent abroad, draining Ireland of its productive capital; the best land of large estates was turned into pasture land ; and when tenants made improvements on farms to enlarge the production the rents were systematically raised to absorb the reward of initiative and industry. Consequently a premium SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 141 was placed on neglect, shiftlessness, drunkenness, and social squalor, and agricultural Ireland was emigrant as to its best and most vigorous element, decadent economically and socially, and rapidly increasing in pauperism and insanity. The various Land Purchase Acts passed by Parliament revolutionized Irish society, for it was mostly agricultural and rural. Small estates could be purchased on one hundred year payments. Buildings and sanitation were fostered. Agriculture and education were promoted. Cooperative undertakings took root. As a con- sequence the inhabitants are becoming thrifty, industrious, in- terested in their own community affairs, temperate, and a larger life is full of promise. In America social degeneration due to tenancy has been noted. Absentee landlordism visits on the given region heavy economic injuries. The tenant who keeps up the buildings, grounds, fences, and fertility of a farm as he would were he owner is rare indeed. No doubt juster laws and more progress in scientific agriculture would form a basis for the correction of some of these matters. Now the tenant sees no profit in the upkeep of the farm. He believes he obtains the greatest advantage in getting the largest returns with the least effort. Could just returns for his efforts be secured the results would be better. But the economic phase is less important than the social. The community interests are at stake, and are put in jeopardy wherever a neighborhood is given up to renters dominantly. This fact has been observed frequently. Strong spoke of it in his "New Era" many years ago. It has received passing atten- tion now and then since that time. Near Syracuse, New York, (1894), life in certain tenant communities seemed pathetic. Church, school, and home indicated systematic neglect. In north central Kansas (1895) renters exercised neither interest nor influence in community matters. Observations in Mont- gomery County, Illinois, (1901-1903), resulted in the belief that schools and churches were declining under tenant conditions. Resident owners recognized and deplored the fact. Observers in North Dakota report similar conditions wherever renting pre- dominates. As an accompaniment of the neglect of church and school the moral and cultural tone of the neighborhood sink low. Coopera- 142 RURAL SOCIOLOGY tive ethical activities of country districts usually reside with, the church. The larger cultural and social outlook associate them- selves with church and school and are products of their life. Immorality, vulgarity, low ethical ideals, insufficiency of infor- mational and esthetic agencies and outlets result from irrespon- sibility and transiency. SOME ADVANTAGES OF TENANCY 1 W. O. HEDRICK THE public has become interested only recently in the size of businesses generally, but since 1890 our census bureau has col- lected statistics relative to the size of farms. Speaking generally, the public cares not at all whether factories and stores and rail- roads are rented or are owned by their operators, but it has given much attention to the ownership and rental tenures of land since 1880. The curious fact is revealed by the last census enumeration (1910) that it is the very large farm which has been notable during the past ten years. The farms of from 500 to 999 acres have had second place in growth of numbers, have exceeded all others in absorbing total farm area, have exceeded all others in enlarging improved acreage per farm, have shown the biggest in- crease in value of total farm property of any class, were second greatest in increased building valuation, have had greatest in- crease in machinery valuation and third greatest in livestock in- crease. The relatively small number of these farms, however, robs this record of much significance in characterizing American farm sizes. With regard to landlordism and tenantry, the same motive which is relied upon by society to secure effective farm handling, that is, "self interest," is the very one which stimulates tenants to rent farms. The farm business requires a combination of several factors notably land, labor, and equipment for its best success. The extremely high price of all these elements renders it sometimes necessary that two enterprisers should combine their i Adapted from Publications American Sociological Society, Vol. 11: 94-96, Dec., 1916. SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 143 factors, one furnishing land, the other labor and equipment, and we have, therefore, the landlord and tenant relation. Farm- management studies show almost invariably that tenant farmers make good labor incomes, and no little care should be taken in disturbing a system not adverse to public policy which with all its faults is distinctly profitable to the farmer. Country-life improvement may indeed be hindered in its cooperative aspect by the presence of the shifting tenant, but an even more fundamental wrong may be done by striking at the productivity of agriculture itself in the attempt to eliminate this sort of farmer. Commonly it is assumed that tenancy is a step- ping-stone to ultimate land ownership. The young farmer or the needy farmer may come to own a farm through a preliminary period spent as a tenant farmer, or he may attain full ownership through the mortgage-indebtedness route. Comparing only the more superficial features of these two methods of reaching the same end and we have the following results. Through having the stimulus to industry which comes from ownership and through directing his business at will, the mortgagor is ad- vantaged, but he is limited in his farm operations through having invested his capital in land. On the other hand, the tenant leaves to the landlord the burden of carrying all the unproductive farm parts, such as buildings, fences, lanes, wood lot, etc. He is further advantaged through putting all his capital into livestock and equipment, thus being enabled to operate to the maximum of profitableness. He gains nothing, however, by the apprecia- tion in value of land. The suppression of tenancy restricts the young farmer or the impecunious farmer to alternatives which may prove hurtful from the business standpoint. The going in debt for a full-sized farm, as we have seen, is likely to leave the farmer short-handed in the means for the operation of this farm. Another alternative is the little farm one which he is able to pay for and yet have some means left over but every study of the little farm has con- vinced the student of the utter unprofitableness of this style of farming. Farm machinery is standardized in size to the needs of the full-sized farm ; a profitable number of labor hours for man or team can be found only upon the full-sized farm. Insufficient variations of enterprises and too high costs in overhead expenses 144 RURAL SOCIOLOGY are only a few of the many reasons given for the unprofitableness of the small farm. The sharing of the expenses of carrying on a farm business between two parties, one furnishing the land factor and the other the labor and equipment, has afforded a successful farm business in the past and still has merits for the future. We find nothing to justify the belief that the landlord's share is to grow larger to the disadvantage of the tenant through the income-absorbing power of land. Landlords will doubtless always secure the re- turns which are possible to them through owning advantageous differentials in land. The differentials tend to become accen- tuated with the increase in price of farm products, but the means have not yet been shown whereby the landlord may wrest away from the renter any share to which this renter is properly entitled. Tenancy, it may be said in conclusion, has stood the test of experience. We do not mean by this every tenancy system absentee landlordism, or rack renting, for example but good systems have survived. The greatest system of farming in the world measured by the test of endurance is a tenant system. English farming, where all but 4 or 5 per cent, are tenants, has given us our leading types of livestock, our best farm practices, such as marling, drainage and rotations and the measure in acres of our customary farm. On the other hand, among the farm- owning peasants of Continental Europe (other than the ex- tremely recent notion of cooperation) scarcely a single fruitful farm notion has developed. Few farm animals or practices have been originated. Women customarily do the farm work and the peasant himself is frequently unable to speak the language of the country in which he lives. The test of a system of agriculture is the character of its professional representatives, and without doubt the British farmer, though a tenant, ranks high among farmers everywhere. The constantly enlarging growth in numbers of population in this country makes ever- increasing demands upon the output from the farms. This in- evitably leads to intensive cultivation with all its expensiveness in land, equipment, and labor. It seems almost unthinkable under these circumstances that a normal tenancy system should not develop here as in England. SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 145 AGRARIAN ARISTOCRACY AND POPULATION PRESSURE * E. C. HAYES THE agricultural sections of America have in general by no means reached that balance between population and resources which tends ultimately to establish itself. They are in a period of transition. The coming changes will offer opportunity for great improvements, but they will bring with them one great danger, namely, that of too rigid social stratification. At first sight such stratification seems inevitable. Omitting qualifications, this tendency may be thus stated : when land be- comes worth hundreds of dollars per acre, as it already has in certain sections, the landless youth can seldom, if ever, succeed in buying a farm, and if he remains in the country must be a tenant or a hired laborer. On the other hand, those who own land will be in a position to buy more. Thus ownership of land may be expected to concentrate and the number of landless dwellers in the country to increase. This tendency will be strongest where land is most productive and most valuable, and therefore hardest for the landless to purchase, and at the same time requiring the employment of a large number of hands to tend its heavy crops. The application of scientific methods to agriculture which will be necessary to make the best lands pay for their cost requires capital, and this will put an additional obstacle in the way of the landless youth and add to the tendency created by the high cost of land to develop a small body of wealthy agrarian aristocrats with a large body of tenants or paid farm hands. There are, however, three counteracting tendencies. First, the more intensive the agriculture, the smaller the number of acres which the landless youth must buy in order to become inde- pendent and to support a family. The increased price of good land and the demand for fine fruits, vegetables and meats may be expected to force a more intensive cultivation, which makes fewer acres suffice for the maintenance of a household. So long i Adapted from "Introduction to the Study of Sociology," Appleton, N. Y., pp. 47-50. 146 RURAL SOCIOLOGY as wasteful, extensive modes of cultivation prevail, the growth of cities clamoring for food and raw materials powerfully tends to increase both "the cost of living" and the monopoly of land. It is true that intensive agriculture .by increasing the pro- ductivity of the land tends to increase its price. But in in- tensive agriculture the part played by labor is greater and the proportional part played by land is less, so that the land values do not increase as rapidly as does the product, and there is a gain in position to those who contribute the labor required for production. Whether the rural population is made up of independent farmers or of tenants and hired laborers, increase in the number of those who dwell in the country and maintain a high standard of living there, is dependent upon the increase of manufacturing cities, either of the same nation or abroad, to absorb their prod- uct of food and raw materials. Thus the high rate of urban increase is favorable to intensive agriculture, and to the increase of rural population in numbers and prosperity. A second and more important qualification of the tendency to form an agrarian aristocracy and proletariat is found in the absence of laws of primogeniture and the wish of parents, as testators, to divide their holdings among their children. A third counteracting tendency is in the fact that in the long run farming land is worth more to the man who cultivates it than to any one else, because it gives him a steady job, inde- pendent of the will of any employer. The price of farming land contains at least three elements: first, a sum which if invested at interest would yield annually an amount equal to the rental of the land ; second, a price paid for the expected unearned in- crement ; third, a sum paid by the purchaser for the opportunity of independent self-employment. In time the second element will dwindle, for there will no longer be so great an expectation of unearned increment; indeed, that expectation might largely be extinguished by taxation, as the next paragraph will show. Then, unless land be valued as a basis of social prestige, or for some other extraneous consideration, the third element will tend to become the decisive factor in its ownership, for it will raise the price of land above the capitalized value of its rental, and only he who values it as an opportunity for independent self- SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 147 employment can afford to pay this third element in the price of land. An artificial barrier to the concentration of land in large holdings would be the heavy taxing of unearned increments. The motive for land purchases by the wealthy who do not farm is largely the hope of enjoying the unearned increment which is resulting from population increase, improvements in transporta- tion and general progress. Deeds might be required to state the true price paid, and the proof of fraud in the statement might invalidate the deed. The purchasers would then have two strong motives for having the price correctly recorded, first, in order to get a valid title, and second, because whenever in the future the purchaser became a seller it would be advantageous to him to have had the full price recorded, since it would be the only amount which he could receive untaxed. On the other hand, he would not overstate the price lest he invalidate the title, and the seller would not allow it to be overstated, if there had been an increment since the previous transfer, because the seller is taxed on that increment. If the actual price at successive sales were recorded the unearned increment could readily be taxed. To cheapen land by taxing the unearned increment, and rendering it unattractive to speculators, would tend to make it more valuable to the man who would labor on it than to any one else, and so to distribute it among independent farmers in holdings no larger than they could properly cultivate. C. ADULT LABOR THE INFLUENCE OF MACHINERY ON THE ECONOMIC AND SOCIAL CONDITIONS OF THE AGRI- CULTURAL PEOPLE * H. W. QUAINTANCE THE social conditions resulting from the use of machinery are even more difficult to trace than are the economic. Yet, even i Adapted from Cyclopedia of American Agriculture, Vol. IV: 110-113. (Copyright, 1900, by The Macmillan Company.) 148 RURAL SOCIOLOGY here, some measure of the truth may be indicated with approxi- mate certainty. Whatever the social conditions of a people may be at any given time, they are largely the product of wealth and intelligence. That the farmers of the United States have ad- vanced in material welfare has already been shown, and this ad- vance has been, and is, a prerequisite to intellectual growth and social attainment. For, "as long as every man is engaged in collecting the materials necessary for his own subsistence, there will be neither leisure nor taste for the higher pursuits." That the use of machine power stimulates mental growth and activity, even in the operator himself, is too clear to require demonstration, for the men who work most with machines are among those properly classed as the most intelligent. It has been noted that, principally as a result of the intro- duction of farm machinery, the agricultural population of the United States decreased from 47.6 per cent, of the total popula- tion in 1879, to 35.7 per cent, in 1900. The urban population classes have increased, of course, by the same amount. Among those who have continued on the farms, socialization has become a struggle for place against greater and constantly increasing odds ; and this, too, in spite of the fact that not only the general level but also that of the lower classes is much higher than before. If we look to the proprietor, or independent class of farm workers, we shall find a great difference between the farmers of the period just before the introduction of machinery and the farmer of to-day. The life of the farmer was charac- terized by isolation. Cooperation was. largely limited to house- raisings and husking-bees, -and these were so infrequent as to be real social events. Self-sufficiency is no longer the ideal. The farmer has be- come a specialist, devoting himself to particular branches of farm work, as stock-raising; dairying; potato-, corn-, or wheat- culture ; or to the raising of fruits, vegetables, cotton, or tobacco, having in mind to secure the other things for which he has need by means of exchange. The farmhouse is no longer isolated. Good roads, the free delivery of mails, the telephone and the electric car lines bring the farmhouse into the very suburbs of the city. The home is supplied with conveniences undreamed of by SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 149 farmers of fifty years ago. The farmer and his wife are no longer to be set aside as "from the country. " They are people of consequence, and their voices are heard in institutes, in clubs, federation meetings, and at the polls the man everywhere and the woman also in some states. What they say is listened to with respect due to one who knows whereof he speaks. The farmers are coming forward also as members of the state legislature and as governors of states ; and many of those who lead in the national affairs are proud to claim some farmstead as the place of their early training. They are practical politicians, and if less crafty, are less unscrupulous than their associates from the cities. But there is another phase of farm life the social import of which must not be overlooked. Along with the increasing wealth, home comforts and influence of the proprietor class, there has been an increase also in the material welfare and general intelligence of farm laborers. But where machine power is used, the laborers have not advanced as rapidly as have the proprietors. During the twenty-year period, from 1880 to 1900, the farm- laborer class, in all the states, increased 35 per cent. The farm- proprietor class increased 34.2 per cent. Taking the country as a whole, these classes were evidently keeping a fairly equal pace. But, turning to the seven leading cereal-producing states, those especially using complex and expensive machinery, we find the population was distributed as follows: 1900 1880 Proprietors 1,073,911 836,969 Agricultural laborers 631,740 363,233 The farm-proprietor class here increased 28 per cent., but the farm-laborer class increased 74 per cent, In 1880, the laborer class constituted only 30.3 per cent, of the total pupulation engaged in agriculture in these seven states; but, in 1900, this class constituted 37.1 per cent, of the population, The difference, 6.8 per cent., represents a loss of 115,984 persons from the farm- proprietor class and an addition of that number to the farm- laborer class. The reasons for unequal growth of these two classes of the agricultural population is not deeply hidden. It is the greater advantage that the possessor of a machine has over another who 150 RURAL SOCIOLOGY has only his hands. The farm laborers of to-day, like the work- men in the factories, are being more and more separated from the proprietors whom they serve. These classes understand each other less and tend more and more to become as lords and proletariat. The larger farms, moreover, are passing out of the hands of resident owners and, like factories, are being run by managers whose primary duty is to return profits. The more intelligent of the farm laborers, those who must be depended upon to operate the machines, fare very well; but the ignorant and the unskilled are probably as ill-conditioned now as before the introduction of machinery. The decadence, or disintegration of the agricultural popula- tion due to the use of machinery, is evident even in the pro- prietor class itself. The group (of states) showing the highest percentage of decrease (from farm ownership to tenancy) is composed of those states in which large farms and costly ma- chinery are plainly the characteristic feature. It contains, in fact, the seven leading cereal-producing states of the country. The rate of decline from ownership to tenancy is nearly four times as rapid in the states where much machinery is used as in the states where comparatively little machinery is used. THE AGRICULTURAL ELEMENT IN THE POPULATION * EUGENE MERRITT IN practically all countries where the number dependent upon agriculture is known, they form -a decreasing proportion of the total population. Wherever a comparison of the male agri- cultural workers with the total males gainfully employed is available, the agricultural workers form a decreasing proportion of the total. Thus is released to engage in other occupations a corresponding percentage of the total workers. Apparently the principal reasons for this decreasing percentage are that the agricultural element in the population is becoming more efficient and that in the readjustment or changes in the methods of pro- i Adapted from Publications of the American Statistical Association, March, 1916, pp. 50-65. SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 151 ducing and distributing agricultural products, the agricultural people now perform a smaller part of the complete operations than was the case formerly. For example, cheese was manu- factured in the home; now it is a factory product. There is a smaller proportion of meat slaughtered and cured on the farm than formerly. Farmers perform a smaller part of the hauling of farm produce to market because the railroads more thoroughly cover the country. Many persons, in calling attention to the decreasing propor- tion of the population living in rural districts, feel that this is a national calamity. Indeed if it should happen that an increas- ing proportion of our people were found on farms it would be a sure sign that our agricultural people were losing their efficiency and should be cause for alarm. If conditions in the United States were similar to those in China there would be between 70 and 75 per cent, of the population engaged in agriculture or dependent on it for their subsistence, whereas in the United States in 1910, only 35 per cent, were so engaged. In other words, the agricultural element in the population of the United States is twice as efficient as the agricultural element in the population of China, to say nothing of the difference in the standards of living of the population of China and that of the United States. The evidence of the fact that the agricultural element in the population of the United States is becoming more efficient is abundant. The per capita crop production based on total population increased 30 per cent, between 1856 and 1915, while the percentage that the males engaged in agriculture formed of those engaged in all occupations decreased from 50 to 35 per cent, in the last 30 years. In other words, we are producing more crops per capita and use a smaller percentage of our total population for the purpose. Thus it is evident that the reason for the decreasing per- centage of all peoples found in rural districts and the migration of young men and women from our farms, is that as the agri- cultural element in the population becomes more efficient, a smaller percentage of them is needed on farms and they have to seek employment in the non-agricultural industries. The higher death rate, age for age, in urban districts depletes 152 RURAL SOCIOLOGY the ranks of the workers so that the rural peoples are called upon not only to furnish raw material to feed and clothe the nations, but to fill up the ranks of the city workers and to contribute to the supply of labor demanded by our growing industries. A POINT OF VIEW ON THE LABOR PROBLEM 1 L. II . BAILEY IT is a general complaint in the United States that there is scarcity of good labor. I have found the same complaint in parts of Europe, and Europeans lay much of the blame of it on America because their working classes migrate so much to this country; and they seem to think we must now be well supplied with labor. Labor scarcity is felt in the cities and trades, in country districts, in mines, and on the sea. It seems to be serious in regions in which there is much unemployed population. It is a real problem in the Southern States. While farmers seem now to complain most of the labor short- age, the difficulty is not peculiarly rural. Good farmers feel it least ; they have mastered this problem along with other problems. As a matter of fact, it is doubtful whether there is a real labor shortage as measured by previous periods ; but it is very difficult to secure good labor on the previous terms and conditions. The supposed short labor supply is not a temporary condition. It is one of the results of the readjustment and movement of society. A few of the immediate causes may be stated, to illus- trate the nature of the situation. 1. In a large way, the labor problem is the result of the passing out of the people from slavery and serfdom the rise of the work- ing classes out of subjugation. Peoples tend always to rise out of the laboring-man phase. We would not have it otherwise if we desire social democracy. 2. It is due in part to the great amount and variety of con- structive work that is now being done in the world, with the con- sequent urgent call for human hands. The engineering and i Adapted from "The Country Life Movement in the United States," pp. 134-148. Macmillan, 1911. SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 153 building trades have extended enormously. We are doing kinds of work that we had not dreamed of a half-hundred years ago. 3. In some places the labor difficulty is due to the working-men being drawn off to other places, through the perfecting of in- dustrial organization. The organization of labor means com- panionship and social attraction. Labor was formerly solitary; it is now becoming gregarious. 4. In general, men and women go where things are " doing." Things have not been doing on the farms. There has been a gradual passing out from backward or stationary occupations into the moving occupations. Labor has felt this movement along with the rest. It has been* natural and inevitable that farms should have lost their labor. Cities and great indus- trialism could not develop without them ; and they have made the stronger bid. 5. In farming regions, the outward movement of labor has been specially facilitated by lack of organization there, by the introduction of farm machinery, by the moving up of tenants into the class of renters and owners, by lack of continuous em- ployment, by relatively low pay, by absence of congenial asso- ciation as compared with the town. Much of the hired farm labor is the sons of farmers and of others, who "work out" only until they can purchase a farm. Some of it is derived from the class of owners who drift downward to tenants, to laboring men, and sometimes to shifters. We are now securing more or less foreign-born labor on the farms. Much of this is merely seasonal; and when it is not seasonal, the immigrant desires to become a farm owner himself. If the labor is seasonal, the man may return to his native home or to the city, and in either case he is likely to be lost to the open country. There is really no "solution" for the labor difficulty. The problem is inherent in the economic and social situation. It may be relieved here and there by the introduction of immigrants or by transportation of laborers at certain times from the city; but the only real relief lies in the general working out of the whole economic situation. The situation will gradually correct itself; but the readjustment will come much more quickly if we inderstaud the conditions. As new interest arises in the open country and as additional 154 RURAL SOCIOLOGY values accrue, persons will remain in the country or will return to it ; and the labor will remain or return with the rest. As the open country fills up, we probably shall develop a farm artisan class, comprised of persons who will be skilled workmen in certain lines of farming as other persons are skilled workmen in manu- factures and the trades. These persons will have class pride. We now have practically no farm artisans, but solitary and more or less migratory workingmen who possess no high-class manual skill. Farm labor must be able to earn as much as other labor of equal grade, and it must develop as much skill as other labor, if it is to hold its own. This means, of course, that the farming scheme may need to be reorganized. Specifically, the farm must provide more continuous employ- ment if it is to hold good labor. The farmer replies that he does not have employment for the whole year; to which the answer is that the business should be so reorganized as to make it a twelve months' enterprise. The introduction of crafts and local manufactures will aid to some extent, but it cannot take care of the situation. In some way the farm laborer must be reached educationally, either by winter schools, night schools, or other means. Every farm should itself be a school to train more than one laborer. The larger part of the farm labor must be country born. With the reorganization of country life and its increased earning power, we ought to see an increase in the size of country families. The real country workingmen must constitute a group quite by themselves. They cannot be organized on the basis on which some other folk are organized. There can be no rigid short-hour system on a farm. The farm laborer cannot drop his reins or leave his pitchfork in the air when the whistle blows. He must remain until his piece of work is completed ; this is the natural responsibility of a farm laborer, and it is in meeting this re- sponsibility that he is able to rise to the upper grade and to develop his usefulness as a citizen. It is a large question whether we are to have a distinct work- ing-class in the country as distinguished from the land-owning farmer. - The old order is one of perfect democracy, in which the laboring-man is a part of the farmer 's family. It is not to be expected that this condition can continue in its old form, but the SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 155 probability is that there will always be a different relation be- tween workingman and employer in the country from that which obtains in the city. The relation will be more direct and per- sonal. The employer will always feel his sense of obligation and responsibility to the man whom he employs and to the man's family. Persons do not starve to death in the open country. Some persons think that the farming of the future is still to be performed on the family-plan, by which all members of the family perform the labor, and whatever incidental help is employed will become for the time a part of the family. This will probably continue to be the rule. But we must face the fact, however, that a necessary result of the organization of country life and the specialization of its industries, that is now so much urged, will be the production of a laboring class by itself. D. CHILD LABOR RURAL CHILD LABOR 1 JOHN M. GILLETTE IT has been the customary assumption that the child labor evil is confined to our cities and manufacturing villages. Un- doubtedly the more vigorous and unwarrantable conditions rel- ative to youthful workers do entrench themselves in those places. Another familiar assumption is that the child labor performed on the farm is entirely wholesome and is therefore to be encouraged. But it is largely the product of those who are ignorant of farm life, or of those who have seen agriculture at a distance or in certain favored regions. It can hardly be questioned that much of the work which farm children do is a distinct advantage to them. Work which is suited to the growing boy and girl is conducive to a better de- velopment of body and mind. The chores about the house and barn, and the lighter forms of labor which may be engaged in outside of school hours are distinctly favorable to the estab- i Adapted from Child Labor Bulletin, No. I, p. 154. National Child Labor Committee, New York. 156 RURAL SOCIOLOGY lishment of a disciplined ability to carry on useful activities, which is deadly lacking in urban children. It is one of the recognized defects of city life that there is nothing at which to set the boys and girls outside of school hours and in vacation periods. Idleness and idle habits, bad associations, and irregular wayward tendencies are often directly traceable to this void in the city boy life. It is not the adjusted, timely work of children in the country which is the question. There is far more labor of an excessive nature placed on children, particularly boys, who live on farms than we would suspect. COLORADO BEET WORKERS * DR. E. N. CLOPPER WE have been undertaking some isolated investigations of child labor in agriculture because it is a subject about which we know very little although the 1910 census reports that almost 72 per cent, of all the children between ten and fifteen years of age engaged in gainful occupations in the United States are in agri- cultural pursuits and that 18 per cent, of them or 260,000 are farm laborers working for other than their own parents. In a recent study of the employment of children in the cultiva- tion of sugar beets in Colorado we found an interesting situation. There are about 5,000 children between six and fifteen working in the beet fields, practically all of them with their own parents. These children of course are under the compulsory education law of Colorado which requires them to attend school nine months, but as the local system is organized on the district plan the local truant officer does not always enforce the law because he would be required to prosecute his own immediate friends and neigh- bors. The remedy seems to lie in a large unit of organization that would remove enforcement outside the immediate locality. We found that the best working children were kept out of school about three months in the fall and lost about three and a half times as many days of school as the non-beet workers. This makes it impossible for the teachers to do the same work with i Adapted from Child . Labor Bulletin. May, 1916. P. 38. National Child Labor Committee, New York. SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 157 them as the other children and hence the beet-workers were found to be very much retarded. STRAWBERRY PICKERS OF MARYLAND * HARRY H. BREMER TWENTY-EIGHT farms were visited in a brief investigation last spring. On none of these was provision for family privacy made. In one or two cases only one family was found occupying a single house but this was not from any desire of the farmer to meet the lowest possible standard of decency, but simply be- cause only about half of the usual number of pickers had been taken out, owing to the poor crops. On one farm the farmer pointed with pride to his pickers' shanty and claimed it was the best on all the farms. He boasted that in its construction he had paid especial care to ventilation and the general well-being of the pickers. What I saw was a two story building I would have taken for a barn, with four windows and two doors on the first floor, and two windows and one door on the second. The building contained but a single large room on each floor, and showed absolutely no provision for comfort or privacy. In this he housed his pickers, men, women, and children, without regard to age, sex, or relationship. And as a sort of explanation of such meager provision, he went on to expatiate on the low standard of morals and the promiscuous living he thought characterized the lives of the people when in the city, "In the city," said he, "they live like cattle. Go into any house in Bond Street and you will find them crowded in worse than they are here." The other farmers, I found, held the same mistaken idea. This is a base libel on these people. Preceding the investigation of the farms nearly four hundred families were visited in their homes. In not one instance was more than one family living together and most families had three or four rooms. For the most part these homes were clean and showed care. i Adapted from Child Labor Bulletin, No. 4. P. 71. National Child Labor Committee, New York. 158 RURAL SOCIOLOGY CHILDREN OR COTTON 1 LEWIS H. HINE No wonder a school superintendent told me : " Cotton is a curse to the Texas children." I was then just beginning a detailed investigation of conditions on Texas farms. For two months I went from farm to farm through forty counties from the "Pan- handle" to the Gulf, where I saw Mellie and Millie and Edith and Ruby and other tiny bits of humanity picking cotton in every field. We have long assailed (and justly) the cotton industry as the Herod of the mills. The sunshine in the cotton fields has blinded our eyes to the fact that the cotton picker suffers quite as much as the mill-hand from monotony, overwork and the hopelessness of his life. It is high time for us to face the truth and add to our indictment of King Cotton, a new charge the Herod of the fields. Why ? What is it that is actually happening to these children ? Come out with me at "sun-up" and see them trooping into the fields with their parents and neighbors. At first the morning will be fresh, and nature full of beauty. You will see kiddies four or five years old picking as though it were a game of imita- tion and considering it great fun, and you will think (perhaps) that it is a wholesome task, a manifestation of a kind Providence. But watch them picking through all the length of a hot summer day, and the mere sight of their monotonous repetition of a simple task will tire you out long before they stop. Their working day follows the sun and not until sundown do they leave the fields for the night. Then turn to the "older" children of six or seven, who are considered steady workers, and responsible for a share of the output, and you will realize that for them even in the beauty of the early morning the fun has quite lost its savor. Here and there a strong voice is raised in protest. Such a one was Clarence Ousley, who addressed the Southern Commer- cial Congress. He said : * * We all are exercised about the hours of labor, the wages and the living conditions, of the women and children who work in the i Adapted from the Survey, Vol. 31, pp. 589-592. 1913-14. SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 159 mills, stores and offices, but we take little or no thought of the hours of labor, the wages and the living conditions of the women and children who furnish the raw material of the looms. It is for the comfort and happiness of these primarily, for the greater prosperity of the South secondarily, and finally for the social and political blessings to come to the republic through a thriving yeomanry, through the strength and virtue of a contented and cultured rural population, that I beg your patience." It is quite possible that the Texas farmer is not so indifferent to the exploitation of his children as he appears to be, for he is literally "up against it," and he may be applying the common anodyne of accepting and even justifying that which appears to him to be inevitable. It is obviously easier for outside observers to tell him that child labor is only making matters worse and that there is no way out until he abolishes it, that it is for him to appreciate and act upon such a long plan. More than half of the farmers in' Texas are transient renters, moving on every two or three years in a hopeless search for better things. They are weighed down with debt ; mortgages are high and climbing higher; illiteracy and dependence upon the one crop keep them treading a vicious circle. The cotton picker's bag hanging about the neck of every child, bending his head with its weight and tripping him as he walks, is a symbol of the life his father leads and the life to which the child himself will come. He may be just on the verge of better things when the boll-weevil will blight his entire crop and reduce him again to hopeless ruin. Years, decades, of such experiences have broken many a spirit. They have lost the little interest they had in education and the younger generation has been growing up in ignorance. Therefore it is that I place first and foremost in any program of change the restriction of child labor. Children must be left free to go to school. The school year must be lengthened and attendance required through the entire term. This is obviously and immediately necessary. 160 RURAL SOCIOLOGY BIBLIOGRAPHY COOPERATION Austin, C. B. and Wehrwein, G. S. Cooperation in Agriculture, Mar- keting and Rural Credit, Bulletin 60, Extension Service, Univer- sity of Texas, Austin, 1914. Buck, S. J. The Granger Movement. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, 1913. Cance, Alexander. The Farmer's Cooperative Exchange. Mass. Ag. Col. Extension Bui., 1914. Coulter, John Lee. Cooperation Among Farmers. Sturgis, N. Y., 1914. Fay, C. R. Cooperation at Home and Abroad. King, London, 1908. Filley, H. C. Cooperation. Bulletin 31. June, 1915, Agricultural Experiment Station, Lincoln, Nebraska. Ford, James. Cooperation in New England. Survey Associates, Inc., N. Y., 1913. Hibbard, B. H. Agricultural Cooperation. Bulletin 238. Jan., 1917. Agricultural Experiment Station, Madison, Wisconsin. Jefferson, Lorian P. The Community Market. Massachusetts Agri- cultural College Extension Service Bui. No. 21, Amherst, April, 1918. Poe, Clarence. How Farmers Cooperate and Double Profits. Orange Judd, N. Y., 1915. Powell, G. Harold. Cooperation in Agriculture, Macmillan, N. Y., 1913. Report of U. S. Am. Comm. to Study Cooperation in Europe. Senate Doc. 214, 63rd Cong., 1st Session, Washington, 1913. Part I. Sinclair, John F. Cooperation and Marketing. Report Wisconsin State Board of Public Affairs, Madison, 1912. Tousley, E. M. Cooperation Among Farmers Ethical Principles In- volved. Minneapolis, Minn., 1910. Wolff, Henry M. Cooperation in Agriculture. King, London, 1912. MARKETING Holmes, Geo. H. Systems of Marketing Farm Products and Demand for Such Products at Trade Centers, U. S. D. A. Report No. 98, 1913. Huebner, Grover G. Agricultural Commerce. Appleton, N. Y., 1915. Miller, Cyrus C.; Mitchel, John Purroy, and McAneny, Geo., Report of the Mayor's Market Commission of New York City, Dec., 1913. Weld, L. D. H. The Marketing of Farm Products. Macmillan, N. Y., 1916. TENANCY Ely, R. T. and Galpin, C. J. Tenancy in an Ideal System of Land Ownership. Am. Econ. Assn. Proc., pp. 180-212, March, 1919. Ely, R, T. Private Colonization of Land. Am. Econ. Rev., Sept. 1918. SOME ECONOMIC INTERESTS 161 Haney, Lewis. Studies in the Land Problem in Texas. Bui. Univ. of Texas, No. 39, 1915. Hibbard, B. H. Farm Tenancy in the U. S. Int. Rev. of Agri. Eco- nomics, Vol. 8, No. 4, pp. 90-99, April, 1917. Found also in Annals 40:29-39, March, 1912. Kent, Wm. Land. Tenure and Public Policy. Am. Econ. Assn. Proc., pp. 213-225, March, 1919. Found also in Yale Review, pp. 5(>4- 579, April, 1919. Mead, Ehvood. The Tenant Farmer and Land Monopoly. Conf. of Social Work, pp. 373-382, 1918. Nourse, E. G. Agricultural Economics. Chapter XII, Univ. of Chi- cago Press, 1916. Putnam, G. E. Tenancy and Land Reform. Univ. of Kansas Bui., Vol. 17, No. 18, pp.' 73-91, Dec. 1, 1916. Spillman, W. J. and Goldenweiser, E. A. Farm Tenantry in the U. S. Yearbook, U. S. D. A., pp. 321^6, 1916. Stewart, C. L. Tenant Farming in the U. S. with Special Reference to Illinois. Univ. of 111. Studies in Soc. Sci., Vol. 5, No. 3, Sept., 1916. Taylor, H. C. Landlordship and Tenancy. In Cyclo. of Ag., Bailey, Vol. IV: 174. Vogt, Paul L. The Land Problem and Rural Welfare. Proc. Am. Econ. Soc., pp. 91-114, March, 1917. Wallace, Henry. Land Tenure and the Rural Church. In Church and Country Life, Vogt, Paul L., pp. 232-242. LABOR Barber, M. A. On the Recollections of a Hired Man. In Readings in Rural Economics, Carver, T. K, pp. 547-557. Ginn, N. Y., 1916. Coulter, John Lee. Agricultural Laborers in the U. S. Annals 40 : 40-44, March, 1912. Country Life Commission Report, pp. 28, 39, 43. Sturgis, Walton Co., N. Y. Nourse, E. G. Some Problems of Agricultural Labor. In his Agri- cultural Economic, Chap. XVI. Univ. of Chicago Press, 1916. Powers, G. L. Agricultural Labor. Cyclo. of Am. Agri., IV: 198. Wilcox, E. V. The Farm Labor Problem. Am. Econ. Assn. Proc., pp. 158-170, March, 1918. CHILD LABOR Child Labor on English Farms. School and Society, May 5, 1917, p. 525. Child Labor Bulletins. National Child Labor Com., 105 East 22nd Street, New York. Monahan, A. C. Rural Child Labor Problem. Reprint, Child Labor Bull, Vol. VI, No. 1, May, 1917. National Child Labor Com., 105 East 22nd Street, New York. CHAPTEE VII MENTAL AND MORAL ASPECTS OF RURAL LIFE CHARACTERISTICS OF THE FARMER 1 JAMES BRYCE I BEGIN with the farmers because they are, if not numerically the largest class, at least the class whose importance is most widely felt. As a rule they are the owners of their land; and as a rule the farms are small, running from forty or fifty up to three hundred acres. In a few places, especially in the West, great land owners let farms to tenants, and in some parts of the South one finds large estates cultivated by small tenants, often Negroes. But far more frequently the owner tills the land and the tiller owns it. The proportion of hired laborers to farmers is therefore very much smaller than in England, partly because farms are usually of a size permitting the farmer and his family to do much of the work themselves, partly because machinery is much more extensively used, especially in the level regions of the West. The laborers, or as they are called "the hired men," do not, taking the country as a whole, form a social stratum distinct from the farmers, and there is so little distinction in education or rank between them that one may practically treat employer and employed as belonging to the same class. The farmer is a keener and more enterprising man than in Europe, with more of that commercial character which one ob- serves in Americans, far less anchored to a particular spot, and of course subject to no such influences of territorial magnates as prevail in England, Germany, or Italy. He is so far a business man as sometimes to speculate in grain or bacon. Yet he is not free from the usual defects of agriculturists; he is obstinate, tenacious of his habits, not readily accessible to argument. His i Adapted from "The American Commonwealth," volume II, pp. 293-4. Revised edition. Macmillan, N. Y. 162 MENTAL AND MORAL ASPECTS 163 way of life is plain and simple and he prides himself on its simplicity, holding the class he belongs to is the mainstay of the country, and regarding city folks and lawyers with a mixture of suspicion and jealousy, because he deems them inferior to himself in virtue as they are superior in adroitness, and likely to out- wit him. Sparing rather than stingy in his outlays, and living mainly on the produce of his own fields, he has so little ready money that small sums appear large to him; and he fails to see why everybody can not thrive- and be happy on $1,500 a year; he thinks that figure a sufficient salary for a county or district official, and regulates his notion of payment for all other officials, judges included, by the same standard. To belong to a party and support it by his vote seems to him part of a citizen's duty, but his interests in national politics are secondary to those he feels in agriculturist's questions, particularly in the great war against monopolies and capitalists, which the power and in some cases the tyranny of the railroad companies has provoked in the West. Naturally a grumbler, as are his brethren everywhere, and often unable to, follow the causes which depress the price of his produce, he is the more easily persuaded that his grievances are due to the combinations of designing speculators. The agri- cultural newspaper to which he subscribes is of course written up to his prejudices, and its adulation of the farming class con- firms his belief that he who makes the wealth of the country is tricked out of his proper share in its prosperity. Thus he now and then makes desperate attempts to right him- self by legislation, lending too ready an ear to politicians who promise him redress by measures possibly unjust and usually un- wise. In his impatience with the regular parties, he is apt to vote for those who call themselves a People's party or Farmer's party, and who dangle before him the hope of getting ''cheap money," of reducing the expenses of legal proceedings, and of compelling the railroads to carry his produce at unremunerative rates. However, after all is said and done, he is an honest, kindly sort of man, hospitable, religious, patriotic, the man whose hard work has made the West what it is. It is chiefly in the West that one must look for the well-marked type I have tried to draw, yet not always in the newer West ; for, in regions like northern Minnesota, Wisconsin and Dakota, the farming popula- 164 RURAL SOCIOLOGY tion is mainly foreign, Scandinavian and German, while the native Americans occupy themselves with trading and railroad management. However, the Scandinavians and Germans ac- quire in a few years many of the characteristics of the native farmer, and follow the political lead given by the latter. In the early days of the Republic, the agriculturists were, especially in the middle and newer parts of the Southern States, the backbone of the Democratic party, sturdy supporters of Jefferson, and afterwards of Jackson. When the opposition of North and South began to develop itself and population grew up beyond the Ohio, the pioneers from New England who settled in that country gave their allegiance to the Whig party; and in the famous "log- cabin and hard cider" campaign, which carried the election of General Harrison as President, that worthy taken as a type of hardy backwoodsman made the Western farmer for the first time a noble and poetical figure to the popular imagination. Nowadays he is less romantic, yet still one of the best elements in the country. He stood by the Union during the war, and gave his life freely for it. For many years afterward his vote carried the Western and especially the Northwestern states for the Re- publican party, which is still to him the party which saved the Union and protects the Negro. THE INFLUENCE OF FARM LIFE ON CHILDHOOD 1 CHARLES W. ELLIOT CHILDREN brought up in the country get a deal of invaluable training from their rural surroundings. They roam the fields and wade in the waters, observe plant and animal life, use and take care of domestic animals, and help their fathers and mothers in the work of the house and the farm, and thereby get invaluable training first, in observation, secondly, in attention to the task in hand, and thirdly, 'in good judgment which prevents waste of strength and distinguishes between the essential or immediately necessary in productive labor and the unessential and deferable. i Adapted from Report of the Board of Education, Connecticut, 1903, p. 290. MENTAL AND MORAL ASPECTS 165 A roaming child brought up on a farm, learns from nature what it is almost impossible to impart to a city child. In city schools we have been for twenty years past laboriously trying to provide substitutes for this natural training in country life. The recent natural history study from specimens used indoors, the manual training given in carpentr} r , forging, filing and turning, the garden plots and roof gardens, the vacation schools, and the excursions to parks and museums, are all sincere efforts to replace for urban children the lost training of eye and hand which country life supplied. It is impossible to exaggerate the im- portance of these substitutes ; but after all, these substitutes are inferior to the spontaneous, unenforced results of living in con- tact with nature, and of taking part with mother and father in the productive labors of a farm, a market garden, a hennery, or a dairy. What children acquire in the spontaneous, intense, self- directed use of their faculties is always more valuable than the results of a less eager though more prolonged attention to en- forced tasks. AN APPRECIATION OF RURAL PEOPLE l T. N. CARVER NOTHING can give us a clearer idea of the failure of urban people to appreciate rural people than the names which are sometimes applied to the latter. Saying nothing of such recent slang as "hayseed," "rube," "clod hopper," etc., we have such ancient words as heathen, pagan, boor and villain, all of which meant originally the same as these modern epithets. Even the modern word peasant has come to have, in the ears of the typical urbanite, a somewhat opprobrious sound. The reason is not difficult to find. One characteristic difference between rural and urban industry is that in the former, men get their living out of the soil and in the latter, the dominant element gets its living out of other men. They who coax their living out of the soil must become expert in the knowledge of the soil and the things pertaining to i Adapted from Rural Manhood, March, 1910, pp. 7-10. 166 RURAL SOCIOLOGY it, such as crops, implements, and live stock. But they who coax their living out of other men must of necessity become expert in the knowledge of men and the things which please them, such as fair speech, manners and dress. It is as much a part of their business to become expert in these things as it is of the farmer to become expert in his work of subjugating nature and directing its forces. The dominant element in a city is always one which makes its living by talking (or writing and picture making, which amount to the same thing). This is the element which makes the sentiment of the city, coins its slang and determines its tastes. Since such element has so little in common with those whose work consists in manipulating things rather than men, who are therefore less adroit in the amenities of social life, and less expert in the complexities of drawing room etiquette, it finds itself unable to appreciate them. That is the reason why urban people have always found occasion to reproach rural people with their lack of urbanity. But to the discriminating mind there are abundant grounds for an appreciation of those who make their living by tilling the soil. In consequence of the antiquity and universality of the agricultural industry there has developed a body of rural lore and rural technique the like of which is found nowhere else. Our attention is sometimes attracted by the peculiar wisdom of the sailor people; but that of the farmer people is vastly greater though less peculiar and therefore considered less interesting. But because so much of it is learned outside of the schools by the actual process of doing rural work father and son working together generation after generation it does not commonly go under the name of learning. The marvelous technique of rural work is acquired in such a commonplace way that we usually re- gard it as a matter of course and do not realize that it is a real technique. But there are probably no tools or implements known to any craft or profession which are more perfect in their adaptation, with more fine points known only to the initiated, upon which excellence in form and structure depends, than some of the common implements of modern husbandry. The common plow is an example. The shaping of the mold board in such a way to give the maximum efficiency with the minimum of re- MENTAL AND MORAL ASPECTS 167 sistance is a result of generations of experience and adjustment. Another significant characteristic of the agricultural industry is that it is still, and shows no sign of ceasing to be, an industry of small units. A small unit in the agricultural industry means merely a small number of persons employed on each unit and not a small acreage. This characteristic of agriculture is of great importance because it signifies that a very large proportion of those engaged in it are self-employed and only a small propor- tion, as compared with other industries, are employed. This fact of self-employment means, among other things, self direction, initiative, independence, and responsibility for the success of the business. This requires qualities never demanded of the wage earning or salaried employee. The demand for these qualities is still further heightened by another significant characteristic of the agricultural industry, viz, its seasonal character. The farmer's work not only changes from season to season, but from day to day, and even from hour to hour. Besides there are multitudinous, unexpected and un- foreseeable changes made necessary by the instability of the natural forces with which he has to contend, such as changes of the weather, etc. All this means that the farmer must reorganize the work of the farm frequently, sometimes at an hour's notice. He never knows what it is to carry on a single operation the year round as is often possible in the mechanical trades. He must always be on the alert and ready to decide what is to be done next. They to whom this everlasting deciding what to do next is a painful process must leave the farm and go where that question is decided for them by a boss or manager. Again it is a fact which educators still have to lament that no substitute has yet been found for the schooling which the boy gets on the farm as a matter of course. Here is where the boy on the farm has a priceless advantage over his city cousin. He can watch his father at work, and, as soon as he is old enough, may help. There is no schooling equal to this ; but it is seldom open to the city boy in these days. The intimate association of parents and children in the work of the farm and the farm household gives a common interest to the rural family which is not always maintained under urban con- ditions. The rural family is a stable institution as compared 168 RURAL SOCIOLOGY with the city fa:nily. This is shown by the larger divorce rate in the cities, and the lower rate of multiplication. This dif- ference in the stability of the rural and urban families explains why it is that city populations have to be continually replenished from the country districts. It has been said that the greatest social distinction is that be- tween those who live in town and those who live in the country. Were it not true that city people are themselves country people, not more than three generations removed, there would be some truth in this statement. The differences between country life and city life are so wide as to produce inevitable divergences of great width in their ideals, their manners and their outlook upon life were it not that nature has a way of exterminating city people when they get too far away from the rural point of view. If we may assume that nature knows what she is about it is safe to conclude that the rural point of view is the correct one. It therefore behooves us to ponder seriously what seems to be the maturer preference before we affect to despise the homely virtues of rural people. THE RURAL ENVIRONMENT AND GREAT MEN * WILLIAM J. SPILLMAN DR. WOODS has shown that at the time when the average man noted in "Who's Who" was a boy, about 16 per cent, of our population lived in the cities. He further showed that about 30 per cent, of the individuals in "Who's Who" were brought up in the city. He accounts for this excess of city men amongst men of note by the fact that the city attracts talent, the percentage of ability in the city, therefore being greater than in the country. He would, therefore, explain the excess of city men mainly as the result of heredity. He may be correct in this position. I am inclined at present, however, to believe that while this excess may be partly due to the fact that talent is attracted to the city and that, therefore, the city child has a better chance of inheri'- ing talent, part of it is due to that fact that cities in general hav; i Adapted from Science, 30: 405-7, Sept, 24, 1900. MENTAL AND MORAL ASPECTS 169 better school facilities than the country. Most of the men in " Who's Who" are those who had good educational advantages. I suspect, therefore, that if an adequate study were made we should find that in this case environment has had something to do with the fact that 30 per cent, of the men in "Who's Who" are from the city. But for the sake of argument let us accept Dr. Woods 's point of view. It would then follow that 30 per cent, of our leading men should be accredited to the city if their leadership is due entirely to heredity. Now for the facts in the case. It is recognized that the following statistics are meager and that conclusions can only be drawn from them tentatively, but the fact that the figures are consistent with each other confirms their correctness. The following table gives statistics for the three classes of men who may be, perhaps, placed highest amongst the list of our leading men : Per Cent. Class of Men City Country and from Village Country Presidents 2 23 92.0 .Governors 4 41 91.2 Cabinet Officers 9 47 83.9 Totals 15 111 88.2 The figures for presidents include all the presidents this country has had. Of course in the early days a smaller pro- portion of our population lived in the cities. But this criticism can not be applied to the list of governors. Figures from this class of men relate to the present governors of the states. It is seen that 91.2 per cent, of this class of men are from the country or village. The figures for cabinet officers include members of cabinets between 1869 and 1903. The average of these three classes of men shows 88.2 per cent, of them from the country. Now, if we accept Dr. Woods 's view that the cities furnish a larger proportion of our leading men for the reason that talent is attracted to the city, the proportion of these men coming from the country should be considerably less than the proportion of our population in the country, but the facts show that the proportion of these men from the country is actually 170 RURAL SOCIOLOGY greater than the proportion of country population. This seems to me to argue strongly for farm life as an educational force. I have received replies from forty-seven railway presidents in this country. Of these 55.4 per cent, are credited, to the village and country. When we remember that preferment in this industry is greatly influenced by hereditary wealth it seems to me that the fact that so large a percentage of these men are country bred is somewhat significant. Statistics for members of the house of representatives are of less value for our present purpose than most of the other statistics given here, for the reason that nativity is a distinct force in politics, and that many representative districts are wholly city while others are wholly country districts. Sixty-four per cent, of the present members of the house of representatives are from the country. Figures for members of the senate are of more value in this respect, since senators represent states. Yet the fact that most of our senators are very wealthy men would seem to justify the inference that the city has more than its share of this class of men, yet 70.6 per cent, of the eighty-five members of the present senate for whom data could be obtained are from the country. Taking all six of these classes of men, the average per cent, from the country is 69.4. It will t>e noted that the higher we go in the scale of leadership in those classes which are least influenced by ex- traneous considerations, the higher is the per cent, of country- bred men. I believe these figures substantiate the claim made in my original article, namely, that country life has a distinct educational value. But what is it in country life that gives this advantage? President Lucius Tuttle, of the Boston and Maine Railroad, in answering my circular letter answers this question. He says: Among other things, the farm boy learns methods of economy and, in- cidentally, the value of money. He is a part of the business machinery of the farm and is brought into close contact with all its affairs. He learns methods of trade and how to buy and sell, as well as possible, with- out incurring losses, and, later on when he leaves the farm and goes into a general business, the education he has acquired during his farm life be- comes a fundamental and valuable part of his after business life. As a general rule, the city boy has no connection with his father's busi- ness and knows nothing about it. His father may be eminently successful but the boy has nothing to do with making his success and is very seldom MENTAL AND MORAL ASPECTS 171 allowed to be cognizant of the methods of business his father uses. Under modern conditions, school life gives the boy very little business knowledge and, at the end of his school education, when he enters business, he is obliged to begin at the bottom of the ladder without knowledge of many things that the farm boy has learned in connection with his daily home life. To my mind this is the fundamental reason why boys brought up on the farm appear to make better successes in their after business life than do city boys who have not had the advantages of a similar business train- ing in their earlier days. President White, of the Richmond, Fredericksburg and Po- tomac Railroad Company, in discussing the effect of life on the farm, says : It is preeminently, in my judgment, an experience which develops in- dependence and self-reliance and, therefore, I think, the spirit of achieve- nfent, more than any other I know of. Another railroad president remarks: I believe that farm life lays a good and broad foundation for a healthy, vigorous manhood in both mind and body. Another noted railway man, who never spent a day on the farm, says : I am inclined to think boys brought up on the farm have better con- stitutions and are less liable to temptations. President L. W. Hill, of the Great Northern Railway, says : My present home is on a farm and my principal reason for making my home there, rather than at some of the lakes or in the city, is that I have three boys of my own I am trying to give a fair start in life. I believe there is no end of arguments that living on the farm gives the best chance for a growing boy. While my making the farm my home sometimes works an inconvenience to me, I realize that the benefits to my children are -well worth the inconvenience to me of getting in and out between my office and the farm. I have always contended that the value of farm rearing lies in the fact that on the farm there is a chance to place responsibility on the growing boy. I firmly believe that it is possible to work out a system of education that will give our schools all the ad- vantages of the farm life. This is being done, to a certain extent, in the cities, and I believe that this fact has something to do with the increasing number of strong men who come from the city. 172 RURAL SOCIOLOGY But I must admit that the actual data on this subject are very meager. SUGGESTION AND CITY-DRIFT * ERNEST R. GROVES THE present movement of population toward urban centers, so strongly expressed in Europe and America at the present time, deserves study in the light of the modern teaching of psychology concerning the meaning of childhood experiences as determining adult conduct. It is everywhere admitted that this urban at- traction of rural population is socially significant, and that its causes are many. It is even -feared by many that it represents aji unwholesome and dangerous tendency in modern life, arid that it should be investigated for the purpose of discovering a reason- able check upon this drift to the cities. No study of the mental causes behind this urban enticement can fail to discover the importance of the suggestions received by country Children during their preparation for life. (See "The Mind of the Farmer" Ed.) Rural education, of course, provides many opportunities for penetrating suggestions, and any one who knows the schools of the country will affirm that their suggestions are not always friendly to rural interests. The character of some studies makes it difficult for the teacher not to emphasize urban conditions. In the endeavor for the dramatic and the ideal, the teacher is likely to draw upon urban life. It is fair to state that a beginning has been made in the effort to utilize the country life possibilities in teaching material. But one usually finds in the ordinary text book an unconscious ten- dency to emphasize the urban point of view and to accept it as the social standard. Many of the striking experiences of modern life necessarily culminate amid urban conditions even when caused largely by rural influences. The urban center is the pas- sion spot, and affords more opportunity for the dramatic. The same fact is true of ideals. The teacher is often tempted to use urban illustrations in her effort to establish ideals of con- 1 Adapted from Rural Manhood, 7: 47-52, April, 1910, MENTAL AND MORAL ASPECTS 173 duct. The spectacular character of moral struggle and ethical effort in the city makes urban life a source from which to draw interesting moral appeal. This bias in teaching is magnified not infrequently by the attitude of the teacher toward rural life, consciously or unconsciously. The suggestion of the urban minded teacher and the urban inspired school system are bound to provide effective suggestions that will later provide a basis for rural discontent. The early experience on the farm may leave a suggestion of unreasonable toil. Romantic youth can not rest content with a vision of endless, lengthened hours of work and merely a living. Other opportunities provide a living also, with less toil. Parents have at times been responsible for this conception of farming, because they have insisted upon having their sons and daughters work unreasonably during vacation and after school. The parent, who looks backward upon a generation more given to long toil than this, and uses his own earlier experience as a standard, may the more easily commit this mistake and teach his children to hate the farm and rural life. The boy on the farm finds at times that his holiday and vaca- tion are encroached upon by needed labor. Weather and harvest conditions rob him of the pleasures that his village chum enjoys. Some definite plan for an outing,, or some greatly desired day > of sport has to be given up that the crop may not be injured. Doubtless parents allow these disappointments to happen with little reason, and looking at the matter from an adult point of view, do not regard the boy 's feelings as of serious significance ; and yet, in the light of modern psychology, we know that such experiences may build up a very significant hostility to the rural environment that appears to be the cause of the agonizing disap- pointments. The cumulative effects of a few bitter experiences of this nature may be' sufficient to turn the boy away from the country in his heart of hearts for all time. In such cases the first opportunity to leave the country for the town vpll be ac- cepted gladly, as a way of escape from a life emotionally in- tolerable. The student of rural life is tempted to look too much to the country and too little to the city for the cause of rural migration. It is not easy to value properly the constant and impressive sug- 174 RURAL SOCIOLOGY gestions of urban opportunity furnished by the city. It is im- portant to recognize that the prosperity of the city requires that it exploit itself in ways that bring people to the city to live, as well as to trade. Better business is obtained by methods of ad- vertising that naturally lead to more people. Modern advertising is in itself a supreme illustration of effective suggestion, and its development has been for the most part in the hands of urban interests. Such advertising has forced rural people to contrast their manner of life with urban conditions and often with the result of discontent. They are drawn to the city on special o'ccasions by a luring city publicity manipulated with scientific skill by experts, and often return to their country homes dissatisfied because of false notions regard- ing the pleasures of the city. Of course this is more largely true of young people as they are more open to suggestion. Spectacular success is largely dependent upon urban con- ditions of life, and such success obtains public attention. Even in the country the successes talked about are likely to be those made possible by city life. These are given space in the maga- zines and daily papers edited and published in cities, and so they naturally occupy the minds of rural readers of such periodicals. The young man who feels the attraction of such enterprise, who wishes to have a part in big things, even if an insignificant part, who craves knowing big business at first hand, receives a suggestion that invites him cityward. When a community is itself represented by some former resident in some spectacular success, it is certain that many young men will question their future on the farm in that locality. Thus the human product of a rural community robs it of its personality resources and the career of the man of fame may continue to act as a tradition long after his death, and still add to the rural migration. It is not altogether clear what effect visitors in the summer from cities have upon rural people with reference to city drift. Although a matter of accident, perhaps, dependent upon the character of the city people, and only important in a limited area of the country, summer visitors, nevertheless, must provide sug- gestions that occasionally operate powerfully upon some young people in the country in encouraging their going to the city. Certain facts in some of our New England country towns where MENTAL AND MORAL ASPECTS 175 visitors from the city return summer after summer, appear to indicate that this condition does encourage young people in going to the city to live. THE MIND OF THE FARMER 1 ERNEST R. GROVES THE difficulty is to find the typical farmer's mind that in the South, in the East, and in the West will be accepted as standard. In our science there is perhaps at present no place where general- ization needs to move with greater caution than in the statement of the farmer's psychic characteristics. It is human to crave simplicity, and we are never free from the danger of forcing con- crete facts into general statements that do violence to the op- posing obstacles. The mind of the farmer is as varied as the members of the agricultural class are significantly different. And how great are these differences! The wheat farmer of Washington State who receives for his year's crop $106,000 has little understanding of the life outlook of the New Englander who cultivates his small, rocky hillside farm. The difference is not that one does on a small scale what the other does in an immense way. He who knows both men will hardly question that the difference in quantity leads also to differences in quality, and in no respect are the two men more certainly distinguishable than in their mental characteristics. It appears useless, therefore, to attempt to procure for dis- section a typical rural mind. In this country at present there is no mind that can be fairly said to represent a group so lacking in substantial unity as the farming class, and any attempt to con- struct such a mind is bound to fail. This is less true when the class is separated into sections, for the differences between farmers is in no small measure geographical. Indeed, is it not a happy fact that the American farmer is not merely a farmer? Although it complicates a rural problem such as ours, it is fortunate that the individual farmer shares the larger social mind i Adapted from Publications of the American Sociological Society, Vol. XI, 47-53. 176 RURAL SOCIOLOGY to such a degree as to diminish the intellectual influences born of his occupation. The method of procedure that gives largest promise of sub- stantial fact is to attempt to uncover some of the fundamental influences that operate upon the psychic life of the farmers of America and to notice, in so far as opportunity permits, what social elements modify the complete working of these influences. One influence that shows itself in the thinking of farmers of fundamental character is, of course, the occupation of farming itself. In primitive life we not only see the importance of agricultural work for social life but we discover also some of the mental elements involved that make this form of industry socially significant. From the first it called for an investment of self- control, a patience, that nature might be coaxed to yield from her resources a reasonable harvest. "We therefore find in primi- tive agriculture a hazardous undertaking which, nevertheless, lacked any large amount of dramatic appeal. It is by no means otherwise to-day. The farmer has to be efficient in a peculiar kind of self-control. He needs to invest labor and foresight in an enterprise that affords to the usual person little opportunity for quick returns, a sense of personal achievement, or the satisfaction of the desire for competitive face- to-face association with other men which is offered in the city. Men who cultivate on a very large scale and men who enjoy un- usual social insight as to the significance of their occupation are exceptions to the general run of farmers. In these days of ac- cessible transportation we have a rapid and highly successful selection which largely eliminates from the farming class the type that does not naturally possess the power to be satisfied with the slowly acquired property, impersonal success, and non-dra- matic activities of farming. This process which eliminates the more restless and commercially ambitious from the country has, of course, been at work for generations. This has tended, there- fore, to a uniformity of mental characteristics, but it has by no means succeeded in producing a homogeneous rural mind. The movement has been somewhat modified by the return of people to the country from the city and by the influence on the country mind of the more restless and adventurous rural people who, for one reason or another, have not migrated. In the far MENTAL AND MORAL ASPECTS 177 West especially attention has been given to the rural hostility to, or at least misunderstanding of, city movements which attempt ambitious social advances. It is safe to assume that this attitude of rural people is widespread and is noticeable far West merely because of a greater frankness. The easterner hides his attitude because he has become conscious that it opens him to criticism. This attitude of rural hostility is rooted in the fundamental differences between the thinking of country and of city people, due largely to the process of social selection. This mental dif- ference gives constant opportunity for social friction. If the in- dividuals who live most happily in the city and in the country are contrasted, there is reason to suppose that the mental opposition expresses nervous differences. In one we have the more rapid, more changeable, and more consuming thinker, while the thought of the other is slower, more persistent, and less wasteful of nervous energy. The work of the average farmer brings him into limited asso- ciation with his fellows as compared with the city worker. This fact also operates upon him mentally. He has less sense of social variations and less realization of the need of group solidarity. This results in his having less social passion than his city brother, except when he is caught in a periodic outburst of economic dis- content expressed in radical agitation, and also in his having a more feeble class-consciousness and a weaker basis for coopera- tion. This last limitation is one from which the farmer seriously suffers. The farmer's lack of contact with antagonistic groups because his work keeps him away from the centers where social discontent boils with passion and because it prevents his appreciating class differences makes him a conservative element in our national life, but one alwa\ r s big with the danger of a blind servitude to tradi- tions and archaic social judgments. The thinking of the farmer may be cither substantial from his sense of personal sufficiency or backward from his lack of contact. The decision regarding his attitude is made by the influences that enter his life, in addition to those born of his occupation. At this point, however, it would be serious to forget that some of the larger farming enterprises are carried on so differently that the manager and owner are more like the factory operator than 178 RURAL SOCIOLOGY the usual farmer. To them the problem is labor-saving ma- chinery, efficient management, labor cost, marketing facilities, and competition. They are not especially influenced by the fact that they happen to handle land products rather than manu- factured articles. Much has been made of the farmer's hand-to-hand grapple with a capricious and at times frustrating Nature. This em- phasis is deserved, for the farmer is out upon the frontier of human control of natural forces. Even modern science, great as is its service, cannot protect him from the unexpected and the disappointing. Insects and weather sport with his purposes and give his efforts the atmosphere of chance. It is not at all strange, therefore, that the farmer feels drawn to fatalistic interpretations of experience which he carries over to lines of thought other than those connected with his business. A second important influence that has helped to make the mind of the farmer has been isolation. In times past, without doubt, this has been powerful in its effect upon the mind of the farmer. It is less so now because, as every one knows, the farmer 'is protected from isolation by modern inventions. It is necessary to recall, however, that isolation is in relation to one's needs and that we too often neglect the fact that the very relief that has removed from country people the more apparent isolation of physical distance has often intensified the craving for closer and more frequent contact with persons than the country usually permits. Whether isolation as a psychic experience has de- creased for many in the country is a matter of doubt. Certainly most minds need the stimulus of human association for both happiness and healthiness, and even yet the minds of farmers disclose the narrowness, suspiciousness, and discontent of place that isolation brings. It makes a difference in social attitude whether the telephone, automobile, and parcel post draw the people nearer together in a common community life or whether they bring the people under the magic of the city's quantitative life and in this way cause rural discontent. The isolation from the great business centers which has kept farmers from having a personally Vide experience with modern business explains in part the suspicious attitude rural people often take into their commercial relations. This has been ex- MENTAL AND MORAL ASPECTS 179 pressed in a way one can hardly forget by Tolstoy in his * * Resur- rection ' ' when his hero, from moral sympathy with land reform, undertakes to give to his tenants land under conditions much to their advantage and, much to his surprise, finds them hostile to the plan. They had been too often tricked in the past and felt too little acquainted with business methods to have any con- fidence in the new plan which claimed to have benevolent motives. It is only fair to admit that the farmer differs from others of his social rank only in degree and that his experiences in the past appear to him to justify his skeptical attitude. He has at times suffered exploitation ; what he does not realize is that this has been made possible by his lack of knowledge of the ways of modern business and by his failure to organize. The farmer is beginning to appreciate the significance of marketing. Un- fortunately, he too often carries his suspiciousness, which has resulted from business experiences, into many lines of action and thinking, and thus robs himself of enthusiasm and social con- fidence. A third important element in the making of the farmer's mind may be broadly designated as suggestion. The farmer is like other men in that his mental outlook is largely colored by the suggestions that enter his life. It is this fact, perhaps, that explains why the farmer's mind does not express more clearly vocational character, for no other source of persistent suggestions has upon most men the in- fluence of the newspaper, and each day, almost everywhere, the daily paper comes to the farmer with its appealing suggestions. Of course the paper represents the urban point of view rather than the rural, but in the deepest sense it may be said to look at life from the human outlook, the way the average man sees things. The newspaper, therefore, feeds the farmer's mind with suggestions and ideas that counteract the influences that specially emphasize the rural environment. It keeps him in contact with thinking and events that are world-wide, and unconsciously permeates his motives, at times giving him urban cravings that keep him from utilizing to the full his social resources in the country. Any attempt to understand rural life that minimizes the common human fellowship which the newspaper offers the farmer is certain to lead to unfortunate misinterpretation. 180 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Mentally the farmer is far from being isolated in his experiences, for he no longer is confined to the world of local ideas as he once was. This constant daily stimulation from the world of business, sports, and public affairs at times awakens his appetite for urban life and makes him restless or encourages his removal to the city or makes him demand as much as possible of the quantitative pleasures and recreations of city life. In a greater degree, how- ever, the paper contents his mental need for contact with life in a more universal way than his particular community allows. The automobile and other modern inventions also serve the farmer, as does the newspaper, by providing mental suggestions from an extended environment. A very important source of suggestion, as abnormal psychology so clearly demonstrates, at present, . is the impressions of child- hood. Rural life tends on the whole to intensify the significant events of rural life because of the limited amount of exciting ex- periences received as compared with city life. Parental influence is more important because it suffers less competition. This fact of the meaning of early suggestions appears, without doubt, in various ways and forbids the scientist's assuming that rural thinking is made uniform by universal and unvaried suggestions. The discontent of rural parents with reference to their environ- ment or occupation, due either to their natural urban tendencies or to their failure of success, has some influence in sending rural people to the city. Accidental or incidental suggestion often re- peated is especially penetrating in childhood, and no one who knows rural people can fail to notice parents who are prone to such suggestions expressing rural discontent. In the same way suspiciousness or jealousy with reference to particular neighbors or associates leads, when it is often expressed before children, to general suspiciousness or trivial sensitiveness. The emotional obstacles to the get-together spirit obstacles which vex the rural worker in no small degree have their origin in suggestions given in childhood. The country is concerned with another source of suggestion which has more to do with the efficiency of the rural mind than its content, and that is the matter of sex. Students of rural life apparently give this element less attention than it deserves. As Professor Ross has pointed out in South of Panama, for example, MENTAL AND MORAL ASPECTS 181 the precocious development of sex tends to enfeeble the intellect and to prevent the largest kind of mental capacity. It is unsafe at present to generalize regarding the differences between country and city life in matters of sex, but it is certainly true when rural life is empty of commanding interests and when it is coarsened by low traditions and the presence of defective persons that there is a precocious emphasis of sex. This is expressed both by early marrying and by loose sex relations. It is doubtful whether the commercializing of sex attraction in the city has equal mental significance, for certainly science clearly shows that it is the pre- cocious expression of sex that has largest psychic dangers. In so far as the environment of a rural community tends to bring to early expression the sexual life, we have every reason to suppose that at this point at least the influence of the community is such as to lead to a comparative mental arrest or a limiting of mental ability, for which the country later suffers socially. Each student of rural life must, from experience and observation, evaluate for himself the significance of this sex precociousness. When sex interests become epidemic and the general tendency is toward precocious sex maturity, the country community is pro- ducing for itself men and women of inferior resources as com- pared with their natural possibilities. Even the supposed social wholesomeness of earlier marrying in the country must be scrutinized with the value of sex sublimation during the forma- tive years clearly in mind. THE NEED OF IDEALS IN RUEAL LIFE l KENYON L. BUTTERPIELD ONE grave danger to permanent rural progress is the low level of ideals, determined by community standards. It is not that the average ideals are lower than in the city. I think they are higher. But they come perilously close to a dead level in im- mense areas of country. There is an absence of that high idealism that acts as yeast upon the whole mass, which often pre- i From "The Country Church and the JUiral Problem," pp. 75-78, (Copyright 1911, the University of Chicago Press.) 182 RURAL SOCIOLOGY vails in cities. It is harder to rise above the conventions in the country, simply because there are few strata of popular habit. In the city there are many ; the individual can pass from one to another. Things are reduced to simpler terms in the country. This has its advantages, but it tends to blight budding ideals or to drive them out for development elsewhere usually in the city. As a consequence the rural community is in constant danger of stagnation of settling down into the easy chairs of satisfac- tion. Rural life needs constant stimulus of imported ideas a stimulus of suggestion apart from its daily routine. Moreover, rural ideals sometimes lack breadth and variety. Life in the country easily becomes monotonous, humdrum. It needs broadening, as well as elevating. It needs variety, gaiety. But these changes can find their proper stimulus only in motives that are high and worthy. Hence an appeal must be made for the cultivation of ideals of personal development and neighbor- hood advancement. When ideals do come into country life, they are apt to be not indigenous, but urban notions transplanted bodily. Urban ideals may often be grafted onto some strong rural stock. Transplan- tation is dangerous. Some one must be at work in the country neighborhoods breeding a new species of aspirations out of the common hardy varieties that have proved their worth. Lack of ideals is in a sense responsible for the drift away from the farm. Some people leave the country because they can not realize their ideals in the existing rural atmosphere. Others go because they have no thought of the possibilities of country life. In a former chapter attention was called to the fact that rural life is more full of poetry than any other. But rural romance is often stifled in the atmosphere of drudgery and isolation. This high sentiment is of the soul and can come only as the soul ex- pands. It is not merely an enjoyment of trees, crops, and ani- mals. It is in part a, sense of exaltation born of contact with God at work. It has in it an element of triumph because great powers are being harnessed for man's bidding. It has in it somewhat of the air of freedom, because of dealing with forces free and wild except as they are held in leash by an unseen Mas- ter driver. It has in it much of worship, because of all the deep MENTAL AND MORAL ASPECTS 183 mysteries of seed and soil, and because of the everlasting, patient procession of the seasons and their vicissitudes. BIBLIOGRAPHY Anderson, W. L. The Country Town. Baker, N. Y., 1906. The Rural Mind. Homiletic Review, N. Y., July, 1009. Bailey, L. H. Countryman and Cityman. In his The Outlook to Na- ture, pp. 90-97, Macrnillan, N. Y., 1905. The Democratic Basis in Agriculture. In his The Holy Earth, pp. 139-150, Scribner, N. Y., 1916. The Farmer's Fatalism. In his Training of Farmers, pp. 71-73, Century, N. Y., 1909. The Spiritual Contact with Nature. In his The Holy Earth, pp. 75-80, Scribner, N. Y., 1916. The Underlying Training of a People. In his The Holy Earth, pp. 39-42, Scribner, N. Y., 1916. Why Do Some Boys Take to Farming. In his Training of Farmers, pp. 89-115, Century, N. Y., 1916. Bernard, L. L. Theory of Rural Attitudes. American Jour, of Sociology, 22 : 630-49, March, 1917. Butterfield, K. L. Culture from the Corn-Lot. In his Chapters in Rural Progress, pp. 66-77, Univ. of Chicago Press, 1908. Coulter, John B. Marriage and Divorce in North Dakota. Amer. Jour, of Sociology, 12^: 398-417. Country the Natural Birthplace of Talent. Harper's Monthly; 106 : 649-53, March, 1903. Davies, George E. Social Environment and Eugenics. In his Social Environment, pp. 82-131, McClurg, Chicago, 1917. deCrevecoeur, J. H. St. John. Letters from an American Farmer. Duffield, N. Y., 1904. Emerson, Ralph W. Society and Solitude. In his Complete Works, 7:9-20, (Riverside Edition), Houghton, N. Y., 1898. Fairchild, George T. Personal Attainments. In his Rural Wealth and Welfare, pp. 45-48, Macmillan, N. Y., 1900. Gold, Guy D. The Psychology of the Country Boy. Rural Manhood 2:107-109, April, 1911. Groves, Ernest R. The Mind of the Farmer. In his Rural Problems of To-day, Chap. 8, pp. 117-33, Assn. Press, N. Y., 1918. Holmes, Roy Hinman. The Passing of the Farmer. Atlantic 110 : 517-23, October, 1912. Lewis, 0. F. The Tramp Problem, Annals, 40:217-227, March, 1912. Lighton, William R. Letters of an Old Farmer to His Son. Doran, N. Y., 1914. Plunkett, Sir Horace. The Human Factor in Rural Life. Outlook, 94:354-9, Feb., 1910. Ripley, W. Z. Ethnic Stratification and Urban Selection. In his Races of Europe, Chapter 20, Appleton, N. Y. Found also in Carver's Sociology and Social Progress/ pp. 676-696, Ginn, Boston, 1906. Ross, Edward A. Folk Depletion as a Cause of Rural Decline. Amer. Sociological Society Publications, 11 : 21-30, December, 1916. 184 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Sanderson, Dwight. The Farmer and Child Welfare. Conf. of Social Work, 1919, pp. 26-33. Smith, Asa D. Soil and Mind Culture. 4th Annual Report of the New Hampshire Board of Agriculture, pp. 257-265, Concord, 1874. Vogt, Paul L. Rural Morality. In his Introduction to Rural So- ciology, pp. 203-220. Applet on, N. Y., 1917. Wallace, Henry. Description of an Ideal Rural Civilization. Men and Religion Messages Rural Church, pp. 1427, Vol. VI, Association Press, New York, 1912. Wallace, Henry. Letters to the Farm Boy. Macmillan, N. Y., 1902. Waters, H. J. The Means at Hand for the Development of an Ideal and Rural Civilization. Men and Religion Messages Rural Church, pp. 27-47, Vol. VI, Association Press, N. Y., 1912. Where the Great are Born, World's Work, IS : 11645, June, 1909. Woods, Frederick A. Birthplaces of Leading Americans and the Question of Heredity. Science, N. S. 30: 17-21, July 2, 1909; also 205-9, August 13, 1909. City Boys vs. Country Boys. Science, N. S. 29 : 577-9, April 9, 1909. The Share of Vermont in the Production of Distinguished Men. Amer. Statistical Assn. Publications, pp. 761-3. Boston, Septem- ber, 1911. Woodward, M. Influence of the Summer Resident upon Country Life. Countryside Magazine, 22 : 320, May, 1916. CHAPTER VIII EUEAL HEALTH PHYSICAL AND MENTAL A. RURAL HEALTH PHYSICAL A SOCIOLOGIST'S HEALTH PROGRAM FOR THE RURAL COMMUNITY 1 L. L. BERNARD NOT the only dangers to human beings come from physical violence, although in these times of war and international unrest we are too prone to forget or neglect the subtler evils. The menaces to morals and to health have much more disastrous effects, not alone because they claim more victims by actual count, even in war time, than does physical violence, but also because they are so much more secretive in their methods, and of all enemies their approach is the most unseen. As Professor Carver says, "When people realize clearly that babies can be killed with fly-infected food as well as with an ax, they ought to be as willing to work as hard to exterminate the fly as they would to exterminate a gang of murderers who went about killing babies with axes. ' ' But the problem of getting people to realize the dangers of germ diseases and moral pitfalls is a very difficult one. Merely the relatively uneducated eye can perceive the dangers of physical violence, but it requires a mind educated in at least the rudiments of the theory of germ diseases and sanita- tion to apprehend the dangers to both young and old from flies, mosquitoes, tubercle, and intestinal bacilli. The one is capable of dramatic presentation, while the other is for most people in- formation of a highly prosaic character. Likewise, warfare against the one appeals readily and vividly to the imagination and can be waged more or less directly, while i Adapted from "The New Chivalry Health," pp. 349-358. (Southern Sociological Congress, May, 1915.) 185 186 RURAL SOCIOLOGY war against bad health or bad morals requires much more thought and constancy of purpose for its planning than most people are willing to give. For these reasons it may be worth while to set forth here a few suggestions for a program which may be of some value both for acquainting the people of the rural community with the hidden menace to their health and for enabling them to overcome these dangers by eradicating their causes. Good health is one of the primary conditions of a strong and progressive civil- ization. Where it is lacking most of the other human ills flourish also. Where it is present there is energy and will for the most difficult tasks of society. The country is behind the city in both the matter of informa- tion regarding sanitary conditions and in the application of the methods of sanitation. This is true in spite of the fact that the country has some decided hygienic and sanitary advantages in the way of an abundance of sunlight and fresh air and, for a large portion of the year, of fresh food in greater quantities than the city can afford. There is also an abundance cf physical exercise in the country, but unfortunately of such a one-sided character that it does not develop the body harmoniously, but tends in many cases to strain and to impair certain tissues and organs. These are largely natural advantages. For the most part the disadvantages of the country in a sanitary way are the result of man's own negligence rather than inherent in the nature of the country itself. In the country as yet there is almost every- where less sanitary inspection, and there is consequently less sanitary control over such matters as the drainage of mosquito- breeding swamps, the disposal and destruction of noxious refuse and dead animals, the inspection of the water supply and the milk supply, and less control of diseased and poisonous animals, such as the dog infected with rabies and dangerous snakes. This lack of sanitary inspection and control is not alone due to ignorance, but is also in large part traceable to the economic costs of carrying out such programs of sanitation, and perhaps equally as often to the lack of proper social and economic ma- chinery or organization for getting it done. The country is also less well supplied with many of the san- itary and health aids which are coming to be relatively so plenti- ful in the cities, such as good physicians within reasonable calling RURAL HEALTH PHYSICAL 187 distance, the district or visiting nurse, hospitals and dispensaries. The country also is too frequently lacking in such other hygienic and health aids as public and private bathing facilities, regular and well regulated exercise and recreation, protection from sud- den changes in temperature and inclement weather. But on the other hand the country does not suffer so extensively from the health-destroying vices which are so common in the cities, especially excessive alcoholism, drug addiction, and the venereal diseases. Most of the leading diseases, in fact, are recorded in census returns as being more prevalent in the cities than in the country districts. There are certain notable exceptions to this general rule. The rural communities exceed in malaria, in- fluenza, dysentery, peritonitis, and the diseases of the nervous and circulatory systems, and possibly also in pellagra and hook- worm. Some health authorities have also attributed much of the cities' excess rate of typhoid to rural vacations and an infected milk supply, though the responsibility probably rests more properly upon the cities' infected water supply. The cities' excessive rate in certain of the largely prevalent diseases, such as measles, whooping cough, diphtheria, croup, scarlet fever, and pneumonia, is due primarily to the high contagiousness of these affections which operates to advantage in crowded communities. The country's excess in the diseases earlier enumerated above, on the other hand, is not traceable to the contagiousness of the diseases, but to the inferior sanitation which exists there, and in some cases to physical and nervous overstrain. Thus the comparative statistics of rural and urban health indicate clearly to us the difficulties in each case. In the country the difficulty is clearly lack of sanitation and physical and mental hygiene. What then is our program for removing these abnor- mal conditions? There are a great many things that can and should be done. It will suffice here perhaps to suggest and out- line a few of the more important of these. Perhaps the primary condition for the establishment of better health in the rural community is the provision of a competent health officer and sanitary inspector, one who not only under- stands the dangers and difficulties of rural sanitary conditions, but who also has the legal powers arid the courage to enforce the changes which are necessary. A number of states already make 188 RURAL SOCIOLOGY provision for a county health officer, but usually he has insuffi- cient powers with which to enforce reforms or he is paid for too small a portion of his time, or his appointment is of too political a character, to secure the efficiency which so important a function as his requires. The fact remains that rural health inspection is far behind that which is carried on in the cities, and sanitary enforcement is much more nearly adequate in the cities than in the country districts. In order to secure the greatest efficiency in this work its administrative direction should center in the State Board of Health, which should have adequate powers of control over it. A closely related need for the protection of rural health is the collection and publication of vital statistics, including statis- tics of disease as well as of births and deaths. This function may be performed by or under the direction of the rural health officer or by a separate agency. In either case the statistics entire should be made immediately available to all civic and private agencies interested in the health of the rural community. Sta- tistics of health and of births and deaths have the same value for the rural community as for the urban; they point out the weak spots in the community's health and thus indicate where work needs to be done. By the aid of such statistics polluted water supplies, soils polluted with hookworm, larva?, breeding places for flies and mosquitoes, the need of instruction in dietetics and other matters of household science and management can be indicated. It is therefore absolutely essential to proper health administration in the rural community that accurate and ade- quate vital statistics be collected and published. It must not be forgotten, of course, that no community, urban or rural, can be given proper sanitary and hygienic conditions unless there are proper laws prescribing minimum sanitary con- ditions and giving adequate powers to the officer or officers having the protection of health in charge. Therefore most, if not all, of our states will have to legislate anew for the control of rural sanitation. The large essentials of the health code should be uniform over the state, as uniform in fact as are the health needs, while the problems of a purely local nature may conceivably be left to the administrative discretion of the county courts or boards of commissioners. But whatever body may enact the health laws RURAL HEALTH PHYSICAL 189 they should be reasonably uniform, and adequate and thorough administrative enforcement should be provided for, But where adequate laws and administrative machinery for rural sanitary protection do not exist and such apparently is everywhere the case at the present time much may still be accomplished through community cooperation, provided only there is leadership and the dwellers in the community are made to see clearly the connection between sanitary measures and improved health. The health of most of the rural communities of the South could be vastly im- proved without any considerable visible economic outlay merely through voluntary cooperative drainage of swamps or wet places, oiling, covering, or filling unused wells, the disposal of all wastes, and the formation of rural improvement societies or clubs for the purpose of observing properties for the detection and reporting of improperly cared for manure piles, the accumulation of rain water in bottles and barrels and other receptacles about the house, and other nuisances, and for the creation of an effective public opinion regarding these evils. Here the problem is primarily one of education and effective leadership rather than of laws, or cooperative labor rather than of a budget raised through taxation. Valuable as such cooperative enterprise must always be for the protection of rural health, with or without laws and administra- tion, it can never completely take the place of the latter, nor will it work with anything like the uniformity which the other pro- vides. No rural health program can claim even approximate adequacy which does not provide for the district or visiting nurse. The visiting nurse has been an indispensable factor in the health im- provement of the cities and is coming to be recognized as one of the first objectives in rural health campaigns. Where the rural district nurse has been emplo3 r ed results have amply justified the expenditure required. Whether the nurse operates over the whole county or a smaller division must necessarily depend pri- marily upon the density of the population and the value of property for taxation, though at least one visiting nurse to the township, or consolidated school district where such exists, should be the ultimate goal. In those States where township divisions do not exist, commissioner districts or other similar divisions may well serve as geographic units for her services. The function 190 RURAL SOCIOLOGY of the visiting nurse is normally pretty much the same in rural and in urban communities. She should be available for advice and help wherever there is illness and her services should be as much educational and preventive as curative or ministrative. Her spare time might well be spent in instructing mothers' clubs and similar organizations, in social center or institute and other extension talks, in inspecting school children, and in giving occasional instructive talks to them regarding the care of their health and that of the community. No other person perhaps can be of equal help to a community in health protection, for no other comes so intimately into the lives of the people. It is probably desirable that a small fee, of 25 or 50 cents, should be charged for each visit she makes, but this fee should always be re- mitted upon the request of the person benefiting from the services. In no case should her salary depend in whole or in part upon the fees collected, but it should be met out of the regular funds of the county treasury, and the laws of the State should be so modified as to permit of this, where such modification is necessary. Hers is as important a function as that of any other public servant in the county. Transportation is one of the most difficult problems to be met in this connection, but it is by no means insurmountable. Another urgent health need for the rural community is that every dweller in the country should have easy access to a hospital when there is need for such. Most of our larger cities are more or less adequately supplied with hospitals and in most of these there is always a limited number of beds which are available even to the very poor. Only the wealthier country people can now afford to make use of the city hospitals. There is great need of county or district hospitals in sufficient number and with facili- ties adequate for the care of those who cannot receive proper attention at home. In most cases the oversight of the visiting nurse will insure sufficient expert sanitary care for the person who is ill in his own home, but in a certain number of cases either the gravity of the disease, the lack of home facilities, or some other consideration makes it highly desirable, if not im- perative, that hospital treatment be available. Hospitals are, of course, expensive and rarely pay for themselves, much less would they be able to do so if operated on the scale and for the purposes here suggested. But hospitals are not so expensive as RURAL HEALTH PHYSICAL 191 disease unchecked or improperly cared for, and this is a fact which should be more generally appreciated. In connection with the hospitals there should be provided dispensaries from which medicines may be distributed to the poor, who would not other- wise procure them, at cost or even in some cases free. Ultimately we may also hope for public physicians, though such does not seem to be immediately realizable. If the other health agencies here described are effective, there should be less need for the physician, and perhaps the fact that his services come high may in some degree help to reenforce the value of the counsels of the visiting nurse. Already I have mentioned medical inspection of schools as one of the distinctive health needs of the rural community. Its value is now too generally recognized to require argument by way of reinforcement. To supplement it, however, there should be provided a carefully planned and well executed educational pro- gram for the improvement of rural health. Of primary im- portance in this program is the instruction of school children in the essential facts of sanitation and personal hygiene. In many of the better rural schools much has already been accom- plished in this direction. There are now some good text books on the subject which teach in a practical and intelligible way the most necessary facts regarding health. Perhaps the weakest spot in the scheme is the teacher who usually has studied ancient languages or some equally esoteric subject to the neglect of such practical matters as hygiene. As a consequence she has not the experience and background to give her teaching the requisite reality. It is here therefore that occasional lectures by the visit- ing nurse can be most effective. There is a very pressing need that we revise the course of study in the rural as well as in the urban schools until they inform us about the lives of our own times and people rather than about the lives and languages of peoples who lived a long while ago and whom we shall never see. It is indeed a poor culture which does not teach one how to live well in his own day and world. The teaching of health and hygiene in the schools will reach the young people, whom after all it is most important to reach. But we must not neglect the older people of the community, for their attitudes of encouragement or discouragement will affect 192 RURAL SOCIOLOGY profoundly the value of the lessons to the young, as well as hasten or delay the actual application of our program to their lives. Therefore we need an abundance of plain, practical extension teaching on this subject. Most of our state universities are making some efforts in this direction and the State Boards of Health are frequently doing good work and can do more still. There is no good reason why health extension teaching should not be made available wherever it proves valuable. It can be carried on through local clubs, farmers' institutes, the social center where one has been developed, the rural lecture course, and even the rural church. All of the leading facts about health and sanitation can be easily and clearly presented in public lectures and through bulletins, and people will be interested in them when so offered. Of a more general educational nature, but distinctly valuable in its way, is the rural health survey. Two diseases from which the rural population suffers more than the urban are nervous and circulatory derangements. Clearly then more than sanitation alone, perhaps more even than health teaching, must be provided for the rural community. There is too much isolation, life is too monotonous, there is too much introspection, too much brooding over problems and dif- ficulties by the rural dweller and too little self-forgetfulness in the presence of others. For this difficulty we must prescribe a better social life, intercourse which gives to the thought new objects of attention and makes life seem less of a struggle and so little a pleasure. Farm women especially are lacking in such contacts. The best remedy here is the social center which cooperates with the home. If contacts are to be broadened, as they should be, care must be taken that they be made restful rather than competitive and destructive of energy. Another in- direct menace to health comes from the excessive severity and duration of labor on the farm at certain times of the year. It may not be possible to abolish seasonal labor altogether, nor to find machines to do all of the excessively difficult tasks, but a better system of farm management, more cooperation in farm labor, and a better understanding of the dangers of physical and nervous overstrain should do much to remove some of the worse evils in this connection. The various methods of improving rural health here suggested RURAL HEALTH PHYSICAL lS3 will not come of themselves. If we wish to see them realized, we shall have to work for them at least as strenuously as we strive for the other good things of life. CITY IS HEALTHIER FOR CHILDREN THAN THE COUNTRY 1 THOMAS D. WOOD MORE than half of the 20,000,000 school children in the United States are attending rural schools. Country children attending the rural schools are less healthy and are handicapped by more physical defects than are the children of the cities (including all the children of the slums). And this is true, in general, of all parts of the United States. My conclusions are based upon all the available official sta- tistics of school children gathered from all parts of the country. As many as 50 or more sources of information were used, and the results compared and collated. These statistics lack uni- formity. They contain, doubtless, many errors, but there are probably as many errors in the statistics of the city school chil- dren as in those of children in the rural schools. The com- parative result, therefore, is accurate. In every health item the country child is more defective than the city child. This is a most surprising reversal of popular opinion. More than twice as many country children suffer from malnutrition as do city children; the former are also more anemic, have more lung trouble, and include more mental de- fectives than do the latter. In an impartial effort to ascertain the causes of present-day country life, so far as health and welfare are concerned, this fact must not be overlooked : Artificial selection, during the last half century especially, has drawn much of the best human stock from the country to the cities. Before that time the tide in the movement of population apparently carried more good human material to the rural regions than away from them. Another reason for the physical inferiority of country school i Adapted from Philadelphia Public Ledger, April 2, 1916. 194 RURAL SOCIOLOGY children and of country people in general is that the science and art of human living, of conserving and improving human health and general human welfare, have advanced much more rapidly in the cities than in the country districts. The problems of safety and comfort as affected by congestion of population and many other conditions of urban life have thrust themselves upon human attention and have received much consideration. The art of human care has progressed much more slowly in the country. The father in the city spends, on the average, a larger percentage of his income for the welfare of his children than does the father on the farm. The farmer, relatively, raises everything else more carefully and, as a rule, more successfully, than his children. Still another condition which helps to explain this astonishing inferiority of the country child is the environment. The country home and the country school are, on the average, less sanitary and healthful than the city home and the city school. It has been assumed that because the country child has all the features of the country, he is, of course, surrounded by for- tunate and wholesome conditions. But the possession of all outdoors is far from enough. The farmer's home is, as a rule, insanitary in many respects. It is often terribly unventilated, and the dwellers in the house are fed many hours of the day with bad air. Country water and food are less wholesome than water and food in the city. The standards of living on the American farm, when tested by the accepted principles of sanitation and hygiene, are alarmingly defective. The rural school, from the standpoint of health and general fitness for its important use, is the worst type of building in the whole country, including not only all types of buildings used for human buildings, but also those used for livestock and all do- mestic animals. Rural schools are, 011 the average, less adequate for their use than prisons, asylums, .almshouses, stables, dairy barns, pig pens, chicken houses, dog kennels are for their uses. In the city the best ideas are more readily brought into contact with all of the people. For many in our cities, deprived through poverty of the material necessities of life intellectual and social as well as physical a bounteous philanthropy frequently sup- RURAL HEALTH PHYSICAL 195 plies the lack. In the country, on the other hand, the farmers must be persuaded to use their own resources to provide ade- quately for the welfare of their families, and, most of all, for their children. To carry this proposal for child betterment directly to the country household would be inadvisable and ineffective; would often arouse resentment. In this phase of human education the direct approach to the home is much less feasible in the country than in the city. The school is, however, the agency endowed by every circumstance for the accomplishment of this great special task of a higher civilization. After careful consideration of this serious problem of the relatively deficient health of the children in rural schools, the Health Committee of the National Council of Education, in cooperation with the corresponding Health Committee of the American Medical Association, strongly recommend the follow- ing measures as a practical program for the solution of the dif- ficulty : First Health examination and supervision of all rural school children. Second The service of the school or district nurse to provide the practical health service and follow-up work, which (it has been so clearly demonstrated in our cities) can be best accom- plished by the school nurse. The work of the nurse is even more vitally important in rural than in city schools. Fourth Warm school lunches for all children in rural as well as in city schools. The indirect educational benefits of the school lunches upon the children and the homes are even more important than the immediate health improvement of the children them- selves. Fifth Correction of physical defects which are interfering with the health, the general development and progress of rural children. For this remedial and constructive health service, practical rural equivalents of medical clinics, dental clinics and community health centers of the cities are urgently needed in all parts of the United States. The county unit organization and administration for health as well as other rural interests has already proved successful and promises the best results. Every 196 RURAL SOCIOLOGY county should have one full time health officer, one or more school and district nurses, and one or more community health centers to provide rational, self-supporting health and medical service for all the people. Sixth Cooperation of physicians, medical organizations, health boards, and all other available organizations in the rural health program. 'Seventh Effective health instruction for the rural schools which shall aim decisively at the following results : (a) Establishment of health habits and inculcation of lasting ideas and standards of wise and efficient living in pupils. (b) Extension of health conduct and care to the school, to the homes, and to the entire community. Eighth Better trained and better paid teachers for rural schools, who shall be adequate to the health problems as well as to the other phases of the "work of rural education. Ninth Sanitary and attractive school buildings, which are essential to the health of pupils and teachers. Tenth Generous provision of space and facilities for whole- some play and recreation. Eleventh Special classes and schools for the physically and mentally deficient, in which children may receive the care and instruction requisite for their exceptional needs. Better health is to a striking extent a purchasable commodity and benefit. Vast sums of money are expended from public and private funds for the amelioration of human suffering and dis- ability in the attempt to salvage the wreckage resulting from un- favorable earlier conditions, which with foresight and at very moderate cost might in large measure have been prevented. Our schools are spending millions in educating, or trying to educate, the children who are kept back by ill-health, when the expenditure of thousands in a judicious health program would produce a-n extraordinary saving in economy and efficiency. A dollar saved in a wise, constructive effort to conserve a child's health and general welfare will be more fruitful to the child and for the general good than a thousand times that sum delayed for twenty years. The principle of thrift in education finds its first and most vital application in the conservation and improve- ment of the health of the children. RURAL HEALTH PHYSICAL 197 HEALTH WORK IN CITY AND RURAL SCHOOLS OF THE UNITED STATES ACTIVITY. FOB CITY CHILDREN FOR COUNTRY CHILDREN Medical inspection laws Mandatory for cities Mandatory for rural in 23 States only in 12 States schools in 7 States Mandatory laws Apply to all cities In 7 States Permissive laws Enforced in most cities In 6 of the 13 States having such laws Medical inspection In 13 States, in parts practiced In over 400 cities of 130 counties Dental inspection by Permitted in 2 States, dentists In 69 cities but not yet provided Dental clinics In 50 cities In one rural county ( St. John's County, Fla.) Clinics for eye, nose, throat and other de- fects In cities None Nurses 750 in* 135 cities In 12-20 rural districts Open air classes In cities only Athletics and recrea- Virtually all cities and Little provision in tion; organized with large towns rural schools appropriate facilities and equipment Warm lunches in In over 90 cities in 21 In a few scattered schools States schools in 9 States RURAL SANITATION: DEFINITION, FIELD, PRIN- CIPLES, METHODS, AND COSTS 1 W. S. RANKIN, M. D. THE word sanitation refers to civic life ; 'the term rural sanita- tion refers to rural civic life; the constituted and the common i Adapted from American Journal of Public Health, Vol. VI, pp. 554- 558, June, 1916. 198 RURAL SOCIOLOGY organ through which rural civic life finds expression is the county government; therefore, we may define rural sanitation as the administration of sanitary measures by or through the county government. Rural sanitation finds its parallel in urban sanita- tion, and county sanitation its parallel in municipal sanitation. The field of rural sanitation includes more than 99 per cent, of the area and more than half of the population of the United States. Rural sanitation should be initiated by the state, but executed through the rural civic machinery, the county government. The state should initiate, because the state is the only existing force that can initiate rural or county health work. The county gov- ernment must carry on the rural sanitation initiated by the state for two reasons: First, should the states undertake to execute, as well as initiate, rural sanitary measures, all of the states, with a few exceptions, would soon realize that their undertaking was far beyond their means ; second, no one, or no agency should do for otbrrs what they can do for themselves, as such practice leads toward dependence and indifference ad away from independence and appreciation. The people are able, when properly shown, to care for themselves, and it is better for them to do this than to have it done for them. The independence of the county as a governmental unit de- mands a plan of rural health work that will permit the more progressive counties to go forward, liberating such counties from the possible retarding influence of the backward counties in short, a plan that permits of leadership and healthy rivalry among counties. The multiplicity of rural governments is a greater rural sani- tary asset, affording a corresponding multiplicity of opportunity. There are 2,953 county governments in the United States, an average of 66 to the state. The county governments of the average state hold over a thousand meetings a year; at practi- cally all of these meetings the state 's representatives .are welcome and can get a hearing. If the state health officer has a reasonable proposition, with good argument behind it and not too big a budget in front of it, he can influence the county to take one, two, or three steps toward a cleaner civic life. Every meeting of the county government is a challenge to the state department RURAL HEALTH PHYSICAL 199 of health to show the county its sanitary needs and how to meet them. Rural sanitation must be developed on a smaller budget than the budget for urban sanitation. The country is poor. What the exact difference between the urban and rural per capita wealth is in the United States, no one knows, but we do know that rural per capita wealth is much less than the urban per capita wealth. The influence of epidemicity is weaker in rural than in urban life, and rural quarantine measures need not be as rigid as urban quarantine measures. Rural sanitation will be influenced by the individualism of the country. The ruralite (a term more expressive than orthodox) is individualistic; the urbanite is communistic. The errors of individualism are best treated by education ; the errors of communism are best treated by legislation ; therefore, sanitary education is relatively more important in rural sanitation than in urban sanitation, while the reverse is true for sanitary legis- lation. There are two general methods by which a county may have sanitary measures carried out: First, the county may do its own work; second, the county may have its work done by some outside agency. The whole-time county health officer is usually regarded as the best solution by the first method, while the unit or contract system of county health work furnishes, probably, the best solution by the second method. The unit system of county health work assumes, first, the divisibility of county health problems into fairly independent units of health work ; second, that a county may get better work for less money by paying the State Board of Health just what it costs to complete a certain piece of work than by attempting to do the work itself. Several illustrations will make the practica- bility of the unit system clear and perhaps better appreciated. Illustration No. 1. The North Carolina State Board of Health proposed to and contracted with ten counties for a county ap- propriation of $500 to administer free typhoid immunization to those citizens of the ten counties who wished to be immunized. In the first set of five counties we gave complete treatment to 26,537 people; when we completed the work in the next five 200 RURAL SOCIOLOGY counties, 50,000 people in the ten counties will have been vacci- nated against typhoid fever. This is about one-eighth of the population of the counties treated. In several counties about one-third of the population has been treated. Illustration No. 2. Our principal fall and winter work in rural sanitation will be executing contracts for the following unit of school work: For a county appropriation of $10 for each school in the county the State Board of Health agrees to arrange through the county school authorities and with the teachers a program of consecutive health days for each school as follows : Two weeks before health day the principal of the school receives from the State Board of Health a batch of hand bills announcing a date and program for health day. The hand bills also carry an invitation to the patrons of the school to attend the exercises. The teacher distributes these notices through the children to the school community. The representative of the State Board of Health arrives at the school at ten A. M. on health day. He makes a fifteen minute talk to the children and visitors on the importance of a knowledge of the laws of health. He then makes a medical inspection of the pupils and gives each defective child a card to its parents, notifying the parents of the nature of the defect and urging the parents to see the inspector after the evening exercises. The inspector mails a report of the inspection to the State Board of Health, which, through a system of follow-up letters, keeps in touch with the parents of the de- fective children until they are treated. The inspector then questions the children after the manner of the old-time spelling match on a health catechism, which has been supplied to the school in sufficient number at least one month prior to health day. The health day exercises then adjourn until 8 P. M., at which time the exercises are resumed. The evening exercises consist of from three to four short illustrated lectures by the inspector on the more important subjects of sanitation, inter- spersed with the reading of selected compositions by the school children. The last item on the program will be the awarding of prizes, the first for the best knowledge of the catechism and the second for the best composition. The inspector will grade, score-card manner, each school on the excellence of its showing, on health day. When this county unit is completed, a county RURAL HEALTH PHYSICAL 201 prize will be awarded to that school giving the best cooperation in the work ; a county prize will be awarded for the best com- position, and another prize for the best knowledge of the health catechism. The inspector can handle one rural school a day. It will take two or three days to handle some of the larger vil- lage and town schools. In the first county to adopt this unit there are fifty-seven schools which will require a program of practically three months. The inspector will have very hard work for five days in the week, like all school workers, but like them will have Saturday and Sunday to rest. This unit of health work couples medical inspection of school children with the sanitary instructions of the entire community, young and old alike the young through the catechism, compositions, and lectures, and the old through the lectures, but most of all through the help the children will demand of their parents in learning the catechism, and in preparing the compositions. This plan of contract county health work greatly increases the appropriation of the State Board of Health; an appropria- tion from a county is just as useful in doing health work as an appropriation from the state. This plan has great adaptability, and I might say extensibility in proportion to the ingenuity of the operator; under it a. unit of infant hygiene work may be de- veloped; under it a unit of anti-malaria work may be carried out; under it a unit of anti-pellagra work may be executed; under it many other more or less independent county health problems may be successfully attempted. Comparative Value of Methods. The whole-time county health officer idea proposes a means an officer; the unit or contract system of county health work . proposes an end the execution of the plans and specifications for a definite piece of work. The whole-time county health officer idea, if carried out by the county authorities, is subject to local politics; if adminis- tered under state supervision it is in conflict with the principle of local self-government. The unit system of county health work is not subject to local politics and does not conflict with the principles of local self-government. The whole-time county health officer plan costs the county from $3,000 to $4,000 a year, and is available to only a compara- tively few counties; the unit system of work costs the county 202 RURAL SOCIOLOGY from $500 to $2,000 a year, and is available to nearly all counties. There are certain counties that should employ whole-time health officers, but the contract or unit system of county health work is better adapted to a variety of county conditions, and will be, in all probability, far more effective than the whole- time county health officer plan in reducing the state's death- rate. The unit system of 'county health work is important as a stepping stone to the whole-time county health officer. In leading up to the whole-time count}^ health officer, the unit sys- tem standardizes county health work, so that, when a whole- time county health officer is employed, an effective plan of county health work will have been established. The unit system of work or proposed contract submitted by the average state to the county should not call for an appropria- tion of more than $1,000; $500 is better. The smaller the cost of the unit, the greater is the probability of securing the funds with which to start county health work. After one appropria- tion is obtained the responsibility is then largely with the state for making such use of it as to pave the way for easier and more liberal funds. The game of sanitation, like the game of life, to use the other fellow's grammar, "is not in holding a good hand but in playing a bad hand good." Even the novice can get results with plenty of money. The intelligent health officer never loses sight of relative values, and the real fun of the game is in getting big results with little budgets. "We shall be able to handle the county contagious disease problem for the average county for $300 to $400 per year. We will carry out the school unit for from $500 to $600 a year for the average county or for fifteen cents per pupil. We will have vaccinated 50,000 people in ten counties by September 11, for a cost to the counties of about ten cents for each person immunized. RURAL HEALTH MENTAL 203 B. RURAL HEALTH MENTAL FEEBLE-MINDEDNESS DEFINED l E. J. EMERICK FEEBLE-MINDEDNESS is due to an arrested or imperfect cere- bral development. By most authorities, a person who is three or more years retarded is considered feeble-minded ; for instance, a child of twelve years, whose mental development is that of a child of nine, would be feeble-minded. The feeble-minded have been divided into three classes: (1) the idiot, (2) the imbecile, and (3) the moron. (1) The idiot has a mentality of less than three years. He cannot protect himself from common dangers. (2) The imbecile has a mentality of from three to seven years. He can protect himself from common dangers, but cannot be made self-sustaining. (3) The moron has a mentality of from seven to twelve years. He is ''capable of earning his living under favorable circum- stances, but is incapable. ... (a) of competing on equal terms with his normal fellows, or (b) of managing himself and his affairs with ordinary prudence." No one needs to be told how to recognize the idiot or imbe- cile. Their inability to care for themselves, their physical stig- mata, and obvious mental limitations make them easily dis- tinguished. For this reason, they do not constitute a serious problem ; they are recognized for what they are, and disposed of accordingly. The moron, on the other hand, may present no physical evi- dence of deficiency ; may be able to perform quite difficult tasks ; may read and write ; and may talk fluently, sometimes even with a certain superficial cleverness. This is the class that makes for us our social problems. Here are the individuals who are put down as dull, ignorant or shift- less, or unwilling to exercise their judgment, common sense and will-power. Their resemblance to the normal makes it difficult i Adapted from "The Problem of the Feeble-minded," Publication No 5, March, 1915. Ohio Board of Administration, Columbus. 204 RURAL SOCIOLOGY for many to believe that they cannot be trained to do as normal people do. Bad environment, lack of opportunity, ignorance, and what not, are given as causes for their failure to function normally. But those who have had these brighter defectives in institutions for the feeble-minded, and have watched them from childhood, under most careful training and instruction, know that they never develop bej^ond a certain stage : and know that there is in these morons a lack as definite as in any other form of feeble-mindedness ; a lack which makes it impossible for them to become thoroughly responsible. At large, the moron may become an alcoholic, prostitute, sex offender, thief, or graver criminal; he is almost sure to be on the very edge of the poverty line, if not an actual pauper. Dr. 'Goddard tells us "Every feeble-minded person is a potential criminal," and this is particularly true of the moron the high- grade defective, who passes for normal, yet who lacks in whole or part the sense of values and the will-power so necessary to the law-abiding citizen. He has been misunderstood; he has been credited with a degree of responsibility he does not and cannot possess ; he has been sent to correctional institutions time after time only to come out unimproved ; and he has been left free to perpetuate his irresponsibility, because we have not realized : ( 1 ) That the moron is not a normal person mentally. (2) That he can never be made normal, and (3) That feeble-minded invariably produce feeble-minded un- less combined with normal stock. FUNDAMENTAL FACTS IN REGARD TO FEEBLE-MINDEDNESS 1 SEVERAL important facts regarding mental defectives have been clearly established : 1. Feeble-mindedness is incurable. 2. The feeble-minded reproduce twice as rapidly as normal stock. i Adapted from "Fifth Annual Report Virginia State Board of Chari- ties," pp. 11, 12, Richmond. RURAL HEALTH MENTAL 205 3. Feeble-mindedness' is hereditary. There has never been found a normal child both of whose parents are feeble-minded. 4. From 25 to 50 per cent, of our law-breakers are feeble- minded. They are dominated by an inherited tendency to crime. The percentage of commitments for major crimes, such as mur- der, arson and rape, is apparently twice as great among mental defectives as among normal people. 5. From feeble-mindedness springs, by inheritance, insanity, epilepsy and all forms of neurotic degeneracy. 6. A very large percentage of prostitutes are feeble-minded. In 1911 the Department of Research of the New Jersey Training School for Feeble-minded tested fifty-six delinquent girls, "all of whom had probably committed the worse offense a young girl can." Fifty-two were found to be mental defectives. A test recently made of one hundred girls taken at random from the New York Reformatory for Women at Bedford, by the Bureau of Social Hygiene, established by John D. Rockefeller, Jr., showed that all were apparently feeble-minded. Their average physical age was twenty years, nine and seven-tenths months; their average mental age, ten and five-tenths years. As shown elsewhere in this report, a test of inmates of our reformatory for delinquent white girls revealed the fact that thirty out of thirty-five were mental defectives. Out of 300 women examined by the Massachusetts Vice Commission only six were found to have ordinary intelligence. In view of these facts it is apparent that our great problems of crime, insanity and the social evil are inseparably intertwined with the problem of feeble-mindedness. Whatever progress we may make in the treatment of criminals there can be no great reduction of crime so long as we ignore the fact of criminal inheritance, and whatever we may do toward the segregation of the insane, or toward the suppression of the social evil, we shall contribute little toward the actual solution of these prob- lems so long as we make no attempt to stem the appalling tide of feeble-minded offspring that is increasingly pouring forth from our large and ever-growing class of mental defectives. So far as modern investigation enables us to see, the most pressing social need of our time is the segregation of the feeble-minded. 206 RURAL SOCIOLOGY THE HILL FOLK 1 FLORENCE H. DANIELSON AND CHARLES B. DAVENPORT THE following report is the result of an investigation of two family trees in a small Massachusetts town. It aims to show how much crime, misery and expense may result from the union of two defective individuals how a large number of the present court frequenters, paupers and town nuisances are connected by a significant network of relationship. It includes a discus- sion of the undesirable traits in the light of the Mendelian analysis. It presents some observations concerning the relation of heredity and environment, based on their effects upon the children. While it is not an exhaustive study of all the ramifi- cations of even these two families and their consorts, it may be sufficient to throw some light on the vexed question of the pre- vention of feeble-minded, degenerate individuals, as a humane and economical state policy. The town in question lies in a fertile river valley among the New England hills. It is on the direct railway line between two prosperous cities. East and west of it are more hilly, less productive towns. Its present population is about 2,000. Most of the people are industrious, intelligent farmers. A lime kiln and a marble quarry are the only industries of im- portance. In summer the population is nearly doubled by city boarders. Into one corner of this attractive town there came, about 1800, a shiftless basket maker. He was possibly of French origin, but migrated more directly from the western hill region. About the same time an Englishman, also from the western hills, bought a small farm in the least fertile part of the town. The progeny of these two men, old Neil Rasp, 2 and the Eng- lishman, Nuke, have sifted through the town and beyond it. 1 Adapted from Excerpts from Report on a Rural Community of Heredi- tary Defectives. Eugenics Record Office Memoir No. 1, Cold Spring Har- bor, X. Y. 2 The few names which are used in the description of this community are fictitious. The local setting and the families and all the other details actually exist, but for obvious reasons imaginary names are in every case substituted for the real ones. RURAL HEALTH MENTAL 207 Everywhere they have made desolate, alcoholic homes which have furnished State wards for over fifty years, and have re- quired town aid for a longer time. Enough of the families still live in the original neighborhood so that, although they occupy tenant houses of respectable farmers, for they own no land now, the district of the "Hill" is spoken of slurringly. Where the children have scattered to neighboring towns, they do not remain long enough to secure a residence and are conse- quently referred back to the original town when they require outside aid. As the younger generations have grown up, they have, almost without exception, married into American families of the same low mental grade, so that the "Hill" people are linked by their consorts to a similar degenerate family a hun- dred miles away. The attitude of the townspeople is that of exasperated neigh- bors. They have lived beside these troublesome paupers for so long that they are too disgusted with them, and too accustomed to the situation, to realize the necessity for aggressive work upon it. A few of them realize that hard cider is a large factor in the cause of their neighbors' poverty, but more of them, appar- ently ignoring the fact, keep it on tap free or sell it. This poor class of people are left largely to themselves until they need town aid, or some member becomes so drunk that he disturbs the peace, or some girl becomes pregnant and has to be taken to an institution. About once every eight or ten years, a state agent is informed of the conditions, and four or five children are removed from the families. Then the father and mother find that their financial problems are relieved for the time and settle down to raise another family. A few of the men and some of the women have soldier's or widow's pensions and state aid, but most of them work, when they do work, as wood choppers or farm laborers. Most of their wages go for hard cider or, if handed to the wives, are spent in other equally foolish ways. They move frequently from one shanty or tumbled down house to another. So long as food and a small amount of clothing are furnished by some means, they live in bovine contentment. From the biological standpoint, it is interesting to note that mental defect manifests itself in one branch of the pedigree by 208 RURAL SOCIOLOGY one trait and in another branch by quite a different one. Thus, in one line alcoholism is universal among the men ; their male cousins in another line are fairly temperate, plodding workers, but the women are immoral. Another branch shows all the men to be criminal along sexual lines, while a cousin who married into a more industrious family has descendants who are a little more respectable. These people have not been subjected to the social influences of a city or even of a large town, so that the traits which they show have been less modified by a powerful social environment than those of urban dwellers. The conclusion of this brief survey, then, must be that the second and third generations from a union of mentally defective individuals show an accumulation and multiplication of bad traits, even though a few normal persons also appear from such unions. It is also evident that certain traits tend to follow certain lines of descent, so that after one generation, related families may each have a different characteristic trait. Feeble- mindedness is due to the absence, now of one set of traits, now of quite a different set. Only when both parents lack one or more of the same traits do the children all lack the traits. So, if the traits lacking in both parents are socially important the children all lack socially important traits, i.e., are feeble-minded. If, on the other hand, the two parents lack different socially significant traits, so that each parent brings into the combination the traits that the other lacks, all of the children may be with- out serious lack and all pass for "normal." However, inasmuch as many of the traits of such "normals" are derived from one side of the house only (are simplex), that may, on mating per- sons of like origin with themselves, produce obviously defective offspring. The large majority of the matings which are represented in this report are of defectives with defectives. A few of those who have drifted into a different part of the country have mar- ried persons of a higher degree of intelligence, but the most of such wanderers have, even in a new location, found mates who were about their equal in intelligence and ambition. In a rural district which supports such a class of semi-paupers as has been described the social advantages which come to them are meager and narrow. After a long day's work on the farm RURAL HEALTH MENTAL 209 or in the kitchen, the farm laborer and kitchen girl find their recreation in an evening of gossip, for they know every one in the neighborhood. They may live near enough to their homes to go there at night. If such is the case, one dirty kitchen may hold half a dozen men and the women of the house. They smoke and drink cider and pass rude jests together and in the end sometimes fight. Away from home, they are ostracized by the other social classes. They occasionally have a dance which will bring together many of the same class from neighboring towns. Under these circumstances it is not surprising that early marriages are the rule. After the legal age is passed, school work is dropped and, for a girl, the servant's life often begins, unless she is married at once. At any rate she anticipates mar- riage and works with that as a goal, not to escape work, but to gain a certain independence and that end of all effort, "to be married." Nor is it surprising that cousin marriages are fre- quent. In fact, even where no known relationship exists be- tween the contracting parties, it is probable that they are from the same strains. The early marriage is usually followed by a large family of children. Some die in infancy in nearly every home, but most of them survive a trying babyhood and develop fairly robust pl^sical constitutions. They are born into the same narrow circle that their parents were, and unless some powerful factor changes the routine, they are apt to follow the same path until past middle age. For, except where tuberculosis has ravaged, disease has spared these people. So it is that the meager social life, the customs of their parents, the natural ostra- cism of the higher classes, and the individual's preference for a congenial mate induce endogamy, or in-marriage, among the mentally deficient. It has been maintained that the dispersion of such communi- ties of feeble-minded persons would stimulate out-marriage and that this would increase the chance of marriage with different and perhaps better blood and thus diminish the frequency of ap- pearance of defects in the next generation. The instances of two daughters who married comparatively normal men supports this view. Their progeny are, as a whole, a better class of citi- zens than the progeny of their sisters who mated with feeble- 210 RURAL SOCIOLOGY minded men. Nevertheless, the 50 per cent, of the offspring who were feeble-minded or criminal, even in these cases, consti- tute a menace which should be considered. Another case was from a criminal, alcoholic family and possessed both of these traits. He migrated to another state and married a woman who had more intelligence than either of the normal husbands (before mentioned). Only one of their children shows the crim- inal tendencies of the father, though the two youngest are neu- rotic, and backward in school. After the mother found out the real character of her husband and his family, she left him. While such repression of defective traits in the progeny by mar- riage into normal strains is beneficial to the community, it in- volves a great sacrifice on the part of the normal consort. How- ever, the consort is only one ; the progeny many. The more fre- quent result of the migration of a feeble-minded individual is his marriage into another defective strain in a different part of the country. The change in locality usually means that two different kinds of feeble-mindedness are united instead of two similar types. Looking at the relation of the Hill families to society on the financial side, we see the three chief ways in which they have been an expense to the public are through town relief, court and prison charges, and their maintenance as the State wards. The town of about 2,000 inhabitants in which the original an- cestors settled has had to bear most the burden of the petty bills for relief. The poor records of this one town have been used to get an estimate of the cost of these families to the town, and these records run back only to war time. From 1863-64 to the present time, some families of the Hill have had partial or entire public support. In the first decade 9.3 per cent, of the town 's bill for paupers was paid for the Hill families. In the second decade, 29.1 per cent of the total bill was paid for the same families or their descendants. During the thirty years covered by these de- cades, the total aid given to paupers increased 69.4 per cent., but that given to the Hill families increased 430 per cent. It is probable that more than 9.3 per cent, of the $15,964 expended from 1879-89 went to these people, for in some instances the names of those aided were not recorded. Besides the usual bills for rent, provisions, fuel, and medical attendance, the last decade RURAL HEALTH MENTAL 211 contains the item of partial support of three children in the State School for Feeble-minded. The births, minus the deaths, during this same period caused an increase of about 59 per cent, in the number of individuals connected with the Hill families. This means, then, that for 59 per cent, increase in numbers, their expense to the public has increased 430 per cent. Turning to the court and prison records for the last thirty years, we find that at least sixteen persons from the Hill fam- ilies have been sentenced to prison for serious crimes during that time. A majority of these crimes were against sex, and the sentences varied from ten years to two months, or were inde- terminate. The cost of these sixteen persons to the county and State through the courts and institutions has been at least $10,- 763.43. The arrests for drunkenness and disorder have not been included. They are very frequent and the cases are usually disposed of by a fine or thirty days' imprisonment. About a third of the business of the district court comes from these families. The third large item of expense which falls upon the public, through the State treasury, is the maintenance of the wards which have been taken from their homes. Of the thirty-five, twenty-one are still under the control of the State as institutional cases or because they are under twenty- one years. The expenses of commitment, board, clothing, school tuition and officers' salaries is difficult to compute, but as ac- curately as can be estimated, these children, during the last twenty-three years, have cost the State $45,888.57. This means that for nine families about $2,000 each year has been expended to maintain children whose parents were unfit to care for them. The financial burden, then, which the Hill people entail is constantly increasing, and that far beyond the proportion of their increase in numbers. This burden rests especially upon the town in which they live. The 400 per cent, increase in the finacial aid which they have required in the last decade pre- sents this fact in a startling manner. The large percentage of the crimes which were against sex indicate that the influence which such persons exert in a community is of far more im- portance than the 10,700 odd dollars spent in punishing the criminals after the influence has been established. The money 212 RURAL SOCIOLOGY expended on the State wards is well spent where even half of them are trained for useful citizenship, but the imposition upon society of an equal number of undesirable citizens calls for a policy of prevention which will work hand in hand with the present one of partial alleviation. Most of the previous discussion has been in regard to the first four generations, those individuals who are old enough to have their traits fully developed and their habits firmly established. There is, however, a comparatively large number of children between the ages of six and sixteen years who are growing up to form the fifth generation of the Hill people. A brief study of the school record of seventy-five of these children may give one an idea of the prospect for the next generation. The school record of seven of them is not known. The others have been divided into two classes, those who are up to grade and those who are below the grade they should be in. Brief descriptions of the mental traits which they have exhibited in school serve as an index of the characteristics which are develop- ing. Glancing down the list of thirty-eight children who are below grade, two causes for their backwardness stand out most prominently. Either they are unable to fix their attention upon one thing long enough to grasp it, or else they require so much more time to comprehend ideas upon which they have concen- trated, that they progress only half as fast as the average child. They are frequently irregular in attendance so that they even lose the stimulus of regular systematic work. All of these chil- dren attend rural schools where no special provision is made for the backward child. Because the schools are so small, this class of children not only constitute a drain upon the teacher's time and resources, but retard the progress of the entire class in which they are studying. Occasionally they develop mischievous qualities, but usually they are quiet, stupid laggards. They will leave school as soon as the law will allow and go to form the lower strata in the industrial world as they have in the aca- demic. Five of these thirty-eight have one parent who is ap- proximately normal. Thirty children from similar families have kept up to their grade. Most of them do as well as children of ordinary parent- age, though only eleven of them have one or both parents whc RURAL HEALTH MENTAL 213 are not feeble-minded. A few of them are the slow ones in their classes. This brief survey, then, indicates that before adolescence half of the children from the Hill families show evidences of their mental handicap. The detrimental influence which such chil- dren may exert upon the rural schools which they attend is an important matter for consideration. How many of the other half, who have held their own with children of average par- entage, up to adolescence, will be able to keep up to the same standard from sixteen to twenty-five is an open question. Its solution depends largely upon the comparative weight of heredi- tary and environmental influences during that period. THE EXTENT OF FEEBLE-MINDEDNESS IN RURAL AND URBAN COMMUNITIES IN NEW HAMPSHIRE x ONE of the most significant studies that can be made in the survey of these counties is the geographic distribution of the feeble-minded and the proportion of the entire state population that falls within this defective class. Since there has been a report from every town in the State, either by questionnaire or personal canvass, this proportion may be considered fairly cor- rect even though many cases have not been reported. One of the most significant revelations of this table is the range of feeble-mindedness gradually ascending from the small- est percentage, in the most populous county of the State, to the largest percentages, in the two most remote and thinly populated counties. It speaks volumes for the need of improving rural conditions, of bringing the people in the remote farm and hill districts into closer touch with the currents of healthy, active life in the great centers. It shows that a campaign should begin at once, this very month, for the improvement of rural living conditions, and especially for the improvement of the rural schools, so that the children now growing up may receive the education that is their birthright. Let us have compulsory super- vision of schools all over the State, as well as compulsory school attendance. i Adapted from Report of the Children's Commission, Concord, N. H. 214 RURAL SOCIOLOGY The feeble-minded population of the State does not appear to be a shifting one. Of the 8.9 per cent, of cases born in New Hampshire, but outside the town of present residence, the ma- jority were born within the county as well, often in an adjacent town, and the majority of those born in the United States, but outside of New Hampshire, were born in one of the other New England states. FEEBLE-MINDED CITIZENS IN PENNSYLVANIA * DR. WILHELMINE E. KEY DR. KEY'S report is based upon a four months' intensive study of a rural community in northeastern Pennsylvania, containing about 700 square miles and a population of 16,000. The purpose of the study was to determine the number of men- tally defective persons in this community, and their cost to the people of Pennsylvania, as well as to discover possible remedies for a condition that experts agree becomes rapidly worse wher- ever left unchecked. Dr. Key found in this district 508 persons, ranging in age from six years upward, who were feeble-minded that is, who were either clearly mentally defective, or who, being members of the family of such a defective, have been so affected by their associa- tions and environment as to be indistinguishable from mental defectives in their conduct and social and family relations. In other words, more than three defectives not in institutions were found for every 100 of the population of this Pennsylvania community. This enumeration did not include a considerable number of shiftless, indolent, inefficient persons, who had no clear mental or physical defect, but who, in a stricter classification, might be classed with the defectives, so far as their effect upon the community is concerned. Nor did it include children under six, unless they were obviously and unmistakably defective. A careful house-to-house study, oft-repeated, verified and am- plified by examination of official records and family histories and by consultation with well-informed neighbors and social workers, developed several striking conclusions: i Adapted from Report of The Public Charities Association of Pennsyl- vania, pp. 8-9; 36-46; 61-62. Publication No. 16. Phila., 1915. RURAL HEALTH MENTAL 215 (1) Certain centers of mental and moral degeneracy and defect were found, which corresponded closely with the distribution of certain well-known mentally tainted family stocks. In two little settlements, for instance, on the edge of the area studied, it was found that 57.7 per cent, and 26.6 per cent, of the population were mentally defective, in the sense above indicated. Examina- tion revealed the fact that these settlements were the original seats of two families that were notably defective. By inbreeding and inter-breeding, the original small groups, after several gen- erations had brought forth hundreds of their own kind, and other hundreds who were on the borderline of inefficiency and mental defectiveness. Not only by drawing together representatives of their own and other bad strains, but by attracting weak members of better and normal families, these settlements became centers of con- stantly widening and contaminating influence, the more aggres- sive members going out to found other centers of contamination. (2) From figures supplied by the officers of the county most directly concerned, Dr. Key shows that the actual financial cost to the county, for caring for and protecting against these defec- tive groups during the last twenty-five years, has been at least $265,000, of which $125,000 was actually spent for maintenance of representatives of these families in the county home for vary- ing periods ; $30,000 for care of orphans ; $75,000 for settlement of criminal cases outside of court ; $15,000 for settlement of crim- inal cases in court, and $20,000 for outdoor or home relief. This takes no account of the cost of their private depredations, nor of private charity, nor free medical attendance, nor neces- sary extra police service, nor drink bill, etc. In this connection Dr. Key says: "Could this sum have been applied to the segregation of its feeble-minded women, it would have sufficed to rid the county of the whole of its younger generation of undesirables. We must bear in mind, however, that at present the State has no institu- tion for the care of such women . . . The training-schools for the feeble-minded are overcrowded and have long waiting lists . . . Our short-sighted policy . . . has not even the merit of being inexpensive. It costs a great deal of money and then serves only to aggravate the evils which it is designed to cure. . . . The 216 RURAL SOCIOLOGY county has done the best it could with the means at hand. Surely it is high time that the State inaugurate a more intelli- gent and far-reaching policy which shall forever rid these sections of their unequal and undeserved burden." (3) There is a very distinct tendency for mental defect to run in certain families, indicating the strong hereditary influence, which can only be checked by steps to prevent marriage and continued propagation of the kind. (4) Comparisons between groups of forty-five defective women, and forty-five normal women in the same area, showed that the average birth-rate for defectives was seven children to each mother, while that of the normal women was two and nine- tenths children for each mother. This excess of defective births was not offset by higher mortality rate among defectives, the actual survivals of children of defective mothers being twice as great as in normal families. While it is recognized that this narrow inquiry, covering so few cases, is not to be accepted as conclusive, it seems clear that in this particular area, the tendency to multiplication is consider- ably greater among defectives than among normals, thus intensi- fying and emphasizing the problem of caring for and preventing the unlimited propagation of mentally tainted children. . (5) Centers of defectiveness have flourished where remedial agencies have been most active for relief of external conditions. The lightening of the struggle for existence which this relief brings only makes it easier for the defective to live on, procreate and multiply his kind. The root of the evil lies not primarily in external conditions, but in the failure to separate and restrain inherently defective individuals from propagation. An interesting sidelight on the situation is contained in Dr. Key's study of the rural school, in relation to the defective. This disclosed 160 pupils whose inability to advance could be laid primarily to hereditary defect. The detailed histories of fifty such children are given in the report. An instance is cited, where, of forty children in a certain school, ten were defective, or retarded in their revelopment from two to four years. The ef- fect of these children upon the normal children, and the waste effort expended by and for the defectives is one of the sound arguments for wider State supervision and care of defectives. RURAL HEALTH MENTAL 217 In conclusion, Dr. Key remarks : "No sensible person to-day questions the State's authority to cleanse a polluted water supply or take any measures deemed necessary to stop the spread of disease. . . . Why should it not exercise the same jurisdiction with regard to these plague spots, the sources of moral contagion?" She strongly urges the need of locating the worst centers of degeneracy and defect; registration of notoriously bad strains; marriage laws to restrain marriage into these strains; establish- ment of adequate institutions immediately, for the custodial care of those whose continued multiplication cannot be prevented by these means. AMENTIA IN RURAL ENGLAND 1 A. W. TREDGOLD SHOWING THE TOTAL NUMBER OF AMKNTS, AND IDIOTS, IMBECILES, AND FEEBLE-MINDED, RESPECTIVELY, PER 1,000 POPULATION, IN CERTAIN DISTRICTS OF THE UNITED KINGDOM, ACCORDING TO THE INVESTIGATION OF THE ROYAL COMMISSION, 1904. Feeble-minded DO 03 m 9 1 a , g" "o 'o GO 1 3 JU 2 " h- 1 s r rf 'S h-H *^ 1 H Manchester .... 0.05 0.32 1.20 2.10 3.74 Birmingham . . . 0.09 0.27 1.70 1.60 3.76 Hull 0.02 0.20 0.55 0.58 1.35 Urban Glasgow 0.07 0.23 0.32 1.00 1.68 Dublin 0.19 0.57 1.20 2.10 4.14 Belfast 0.13 0.63 0.70 0.97 2.45 fStoke-on-Trent.. 0.21 0.45 2.10 1.10 3.96 Industrial ~\ Durham 0.02 0.34 0.56 0.56 1.48 [Cork 0.07 0.32 0.16 0.54 1.10 Mixed Industrial ["Nottinghamshire 0.30 0.66 1.50 1.20 3.81 and Agricultural "^Carmarthenshire 0.59 0.65 0.51 1.20 3.05 r Somersetshire . . 0.18 1.00 2.10 1.10 4.54 Wiltshire 0.35 0.69 2.20 0.90 4.25 Agricultural Lincolnshire . . . 0.44 0.98 1.40 1.70 4.68 Carnarvonshire. 0.24 0.58 2.10 0.94 3.96 Galvvay 0.13 1.00 1.00 2.20 4.49 Adanted from "Mental DpfirioTu-v " n. 12. Wood. M. Y.. 190S. 218 RURAL SOCIOLOGY URBAN AND RURAL INSANITY * IN general the statistics indicate that there is relatively more insanity in cities than in country districts and in large cities than in small cities, although to some extent the difference may be accounted for by difference between city and country as re- gards the tendency to place cases of insanity under institutional care. The figures may also be affected in some degree by the accident of the location of the hospitals for the insane. Studies made in New York State show that the proportion of admissions from a county in which a hospital is located is always greater than from other counties and that the proportion decreases with the distance from the hospital. The influence of this factor upon the comparison between city and country, however, would not everywhere be uniform. Whether it tended to increase the ratio of admissions from country districts or that from city dis- tricts would depend entirely upon the location of the hospitals. Probably it does not go very far toward explaining the higher ratio of admissions from the urban population. The ratio of admission to hospitals for the insane is higher for urban than for rural communities for both males and fe- males, and the difference is about as marked for one sex as for the other. It follows that the difference between the sexes with regard to this ratio is about as marked in urban communities as it is in rural, the one statement being a corollary of the other. One difficulty, however, about all comparisons of this kind as applied to the United States as a whole is that the urban popula- tion and the rural are very differently distributed over the ter- ritory of the United States. New England and the Middle At- lantic divisions together include 45 per cent, of the total urban population of the United States, as compared with only 13.5 per cent, of the rural population. If to these two divisions is added the East North Central the combined area includes 67.6 per cent., or about two-thirds, of the urban population, but only 31 per cent., or less than one-third, of the rural population. The three southern divisions, on the other hand, contain a much smaller i Adapted from "Insane and Feeble-minded in Institutions, 1910." Dept. of Commerce, U. S. Bur. of Census, pp. 49-51. Published 1914. RURAL HEALTH MENTAL 219 proportion of the urban population than of the rural 15.5 per cent, of the one as compared with 46.1 per cent, of the other. The characteristics of the rural population of the United States, therefore, are affected to a large degree by conditions peculiar to the South, while those of the urban population largely reflect conditions in the North and East ; and, in general, any com- parison between urban and rural population is to a considerable extent a comparison between the North and East on the one hand and the South and West on the other. WHAT IS PRACTICABLE IN THE WAY OF PREVENTION OF MENTAL DEFECT x WALTER E. FEENALD DURING the last decade four factors have materially changed the professional and popular conception of the problem of the feeble-minded. 1. The widespread use of mental tests has greatly simplified the preliminary recognition of ordinary cases of mental defect and done much to popularize the knowledge of the extent and importance of feeble-mindedness. 2. The intensive studies of the family histories of large num- bers of the feeble-minded by Goddard, Davenport and Tred- gold have demonstrated what had hitherto only been suspected, that the great majority of these persons are feeble-minded be- cause they come from family stocks which transmit feeble-mind- edness from generation to generation in accordance with the laws of heredity. Many of the members of these families are not defective themselves, but these normal members of tainted families are liable to have a certain number of defectives among their own descendants. The number of persons who are feeble- minded as a result of injury, disease or other environmental con- ditions without hereditary predisposition is much smaller than had been suspected, and these accidental cases do not transmit their defect to their progeny. i Read before the National Conference of Charities and Correction, Balti- more, 1915, being the report of the Conference Committee on State Care of the Insane, Feeble-minded and Epileptic. Reprinted from the Pro- ceedings of the Conference. 220 RURAL SOCIOLOGY 3. The cumulative evidence furnished by surveys, community studies, and intensive group inquiries has now definitely proved that feeble-mindedness is an important factor as a cause of juvenile vice and delinquency, adult crime, sex immorality, the spread of venereal disease, prostitution, illegitimacy, vagrancy, pauperism, and other forms of social evil and social disease. 4. Our estimates of the extent and the prevalence of feeble- mindedness have been greatly increased by the application of mental tests, the public school classes for defectives, the inter- pretation of the above mentioned anti-social expressions of feeble-mindedness, and the intensive community studies. It is becoming evident that some central governmental author- ity should be made responsible for the supervision, assistance and control of the feeble-minded at large in the community who are not properly cared for by their friends. This proposal is not so revolutionary as it seems, for a large proportion of feeble- minded people at some time in their lives now come under the jurisdiction of public authorities or private societies as de- pendents or as irresponsible law-breakers. Many feeble-minded persons eventually become permanent public charges. Many run the gauntlet of the police, the courts, the penal institutions, the almshouses, the tramp shelters, the. lying-in hospitals, and often many private societies and agencies, perhaps, eventually to turn up in the institutions for the feeble-minded. At any given time, it is a matter of chance as to what state or local or private organization or institution is being perplexed by the problems they present. They are shifted from one organization or institution to another as soon as possible. At present there is no bureau or officer with the knowledge and the authority to advise and compel proper care and protection for this numer- ous and dangerous class. This state supervision of the feeble-minded might be done successfully by some existing organization like a properly con- stituted state board of health, or state board of charities, or by a special board or official; but the responsible official should be a physician trained in psychiatry, with especial knowledge of all phases of mental deficiency and its many social expressions. The local administration of this plan could be carried out by the use of existing local health boards, or other especially quali- RURAL HEALTH MENTAL 221 fied local officials or, perhaps better, by the utilization of properly qualified volunteer social workers, or existing local private or- ganizations and societies, already dealing with dependents or delinquents. This systematic supervision and control, could eas- ily be made to cover an entire State, and would obviate the present needless, costly and futile reduplication of effort. The most immediately practical method of prevention is that of intelligent segregation. The average family is entirely free from mental defect. It is possible that a real eugenic survey of a given locality might show that 90 per cent, of the feeble- mindedness in that locality was contributed by 5 per cent, of the families in that community. The proposed governmental supervision of the feeble-minded, with its sequence of registra- tion, extra-institutional visitation, accumulation of personal and family histories, cooperation with private organizations, public school classes for defectives, and mental clinics, would soon indi- cate the individuals most likely to breed other defectives. The families with strong potentiality of defect would be recognized and located. We know that if both parents are hereditarily feeble-minded, all the children will be defective, and that if one parent is feeble-minded, on an average half of the children will be defective. Families and settlements of the Kallikak, Nam or Hill-folk class, the so-called hovel type, can be broken up and terminated by segregation of the members of the child-bearing age. Every feeble-minded girl or woman of the hereditary type, especially of the moron class, not adequately protected,, should be segregated during the reproductive period. Otherwise she is almost certain to bear defective children, who, in turn, breed other defectives. The male defectives are probably less likely to become parents, but many male morons also should be segre- gated. This segregation carried out thoroughly for even one generation would largely reduce the number of the feeble- minded. The cost of segregation will be large, but not so large as the present cost of caring for these same persons, to say nothing of their progeny in future generations. These people are seldom self-supporting and most of them are eventually supported by the public in some way. From the economic standpoint, alone, no other investment could be so profitable. The present genera- 222 RURAL SOCIOLOGY tion is the trustee for the inherent quality as well as for the material welfare of future generations. In a few years the ex- pense of institutions and farm colonies for the feeble-minded will be counterbalanced by the reduction in the population of almshouses, prisons and other expensive institutions. When the feeble-minded are recognized in childhood and trained properly, many of them are capable of being supported at low cost under institution supervision. The State will never be called upon to place all the feeble- minded in institutions. Many cases will never need segregation small children of both sexes, cases properly cared for at home with or without supervision, many adult males and adult fe- males past the child-bearing period. Eugenic study will recog- nize the non-hereditary cases who cannot transmit their defect, and who do not need segregation for this reason. The one great obstacle to effective prevention of f eeble-mindedness is the lack of definite, precise knowledge. This knowledge can only be sup- plied by long-continued scientific research along many lines of inquiry. We do not even know the exact number of the feeble- minded. This fact will be supplied by the future community surveys and other extensive and intensive studies. And, after all, the meaning of this report is that in the long run education in the broadest sense will be the most effective method in a rational movement for the diminution of feeble- mindedness. One of the principal advantages of the proposed plan for state registration and supervision of the feeble-minded is the opportunity it gives for the general education of the people of the State upon this subject. The public generally should be persistently informed as to its extent, causes and results by means of suitable literature, popular lectures, and other means. This field offers a great and useful opportunity to mental hygiene so- cieties and other similar organizations for disseminating knowl- edge on this subject, for, under present conditions, it will be many years before local communities have an equal realization of the nature of the problem, or are prepared to deal with it. The principles of heredity as they are unfolded, and especially of morbid heredity, should be taught in the colleges, the normal schools, and, indeed, in the high schools. The adolescent has a right to be informed upon a subject which is of supreme im- RURAL HEALTH MENTAL 223 portance to himself, to his family and to his descendants. The great majority of these young people will later marry and become parents. The dangers of marriage with persons of diseased stock should be presented plainly. The most important point is that feeble-mindedness is highly hereditary, and that each feeble- minded person is a potential source of an endless progeny of defect. No feeble-minded person should be allowed to marry or to become a parent. Even the normal members of a definitely tainted family may transmit defect to their own children, especially if they mate with one with similar hereditary tendencies. If the hereditary tendency is marked and persistent, the normal members of the family should not marry. Certain families should become ex- tinct. Parenthood is not for all. Persons of good heredity run a risk of entailing defect upon their descendants when they marry into a family with this hereditary taint. Intelligent peo- ple are usually willing to forego a proposed marriage if the possi- bilities of defective heredity in that mating are fully under- stood. The immediate sacrifice is less painful than the future devoted to the hopeless care of feeble-minded children. The class of people who are not amenable to reason in respect to this question must be dealt with through the general educational in- fluences which have been outlined in this report. When the natural leaders of thought in the community the teachers, physicians, lawyers and clergymen are fully informed on this subject they will help to create the strong public senti- ment which will demand the passage of necessary laws, and will secure sufficient appropriations to eventually ensure the intelli- gent protection and control of the feeble-minded persons in that community. BIBLIOGRAPHY HEALTH PHYSICAL Allen, W. H. Civics and Health, Ginn, N. Y., 1909. Annual Report American Red Cross Town and Country Nursing Service, Washington, 1916. Bashore, H. D. Overcrowding and Defective Housing in the Rural Districts, Wiley, N. Y., 1915. Brewer, I. W. R viral Hygiene. Lippincott, Pliila., 1909. Clement, F. F, District Nurses in Hural Work. Conference Charities 224 RURAL SOCIOLOGY and Corrections, 1914, pp. 279-88. 315 Plymouth Court, Chicago, 111. Crumbine, S. J. Sumner County Sanitary and Social Survey, Bui. 4, 1915, Kansas Slate Board of Health, Topeka, Kansas. Dyer, W. A. New Kind of County Hospital. World's Work, 30 : 605-9, September, 1915. Flannigan, R. K. Sanitary Survey of the Schools of Orange County, Virginia. Bui. 590, U. S. Bureau of Educ., 1914. Foster, I. A., and Fulmer, Harriet. White County, Illinois, Health Survey, State Board of Health, Springfield, Illinois. Gerhard, Wm. P. The Sanitation, Water Supply and Sewage Disposal of Country Homes, Van Nostrand, N. Y., 1909. Gillette, John M. Constructive Rural Sociology, pp. 147-167. Sturgis, N. Y., 1915. Gulick, Luther H. and Ayers, Leonard P. Medical Inspection of Schools. Survey Associates, N. Y., 1914, (Russell Sage Founda- tion Pub.). Harris, H. F. Health on the Farm. Sturgis, N. Y., 1911. Health in the Open Country, Report of the Commission on Country Life, pp. 100-103, Sturgis, N. Y., 1911. Howard, C. 0. How Insects Affect Health in Rural Districts. U. S. Farmers' Bulletin, 155. Hurty, John N. A Rural Sanitary Survey of Five Counties in In- diana, State Board of Health, Indiana, Indianapolis, 1914. Lumsden, L. L. Rural Sanitation: A Report made on special studies made in 15 counties in 1914, 15, and 16. Public Health Bui. No. . 94, Oct., 1918. Monahan, A. C. Rural School Sanitation. In Education Hygiene, 355-380 by L. W. Rapeer, Scribner, N. Y., 1915. Medical inspection of 469,000 school children in Pennsylvania. Health Bui. No. 71, State Dept. of Health, Harrisburg, Pa., 1915. Minimum Health Requirements for Rural Schools. Report of the Joint Comm. on Health Problems in Education of the National Council of the National Educ. Assn. and of the Council of Health and Public Instruction of the Amer. Med. Assn. Prepared by Thomas D. Wood. Ogden, Henry W. Rural Hygiene. Macmillan, N. Y., 1911. Ruediger, G. F. Program of Public Health for Towns, Villages, and Rural Communities; with discussion. Amer. Jour. Public Health 7:235-47, March, 1917. Concord, N. H. Rural School Hygiene, Medical Inspection, etc. Surveys made by U. S. Public Health Service in Virginia, Florida, West Virginia, Indiana, Kentucky, North and South Carolina, Tennessee. Public Health Reports, Bulletins: No. 23, Vol. 29; No. 6, Vol. 29; No. 37, Vol. 29 ; No. 102, Vol. 30. Rural School Nurses. (1) Report of Kent Co. (Mich.) Nurse. (2) The Story of a Red Cross Visiting Nurse on her Round of Visits, etc. American Red Cross Town and Country Nursing Service, Washington, D. C. Stiles, C. W. The Rural Health Movement. Annals, 37:367-70, March, 1911. Terman, L. M. Hygiene of the School Child. Houghton, Boston, 1913. RURAL HEALTH MENTAL 225 Vogt, Paul L. Introduction to Rural Sociology, pp. 150-169, Apple- ton, N. Y., 1917. Van Duzor, Charlotte E. County Nursing. Town and Country Nurs- ing Service, May 15, 1917. Waters, Yssabella. Visiting Nursing in the U. S. Charities Publica- tion Committee, N. Y., 1909. HEALTH MENTAL Baldwin, B. F. Psychology of Mental Deficiency. Popular Science Monthly, 76 : 82-94, July, 1911. Burnham, Wm. H. Success and Failure as Conditions of Mental Health. Pub. No. 37, Mass. Soc. for Mental Hygiene, Boston, 1919. Burr, R. H. A Statistical Study of Patients Admitted at the Conn. Hospital for Insane from the years 1868 to 1901. Amer. Statis- tical Assn, 8 : 305-343, June, 1903. Clark, T.j Collins, G. L., and Treadway, W. L. Rural School Sanita- tion. U. S. Public Health Bulletin, 77, 1916. Danielson, Florence and Davenport, Charles B. The Hill Folk. Cold Spring Harbor, Long Island, N. Y., Eugenics Record Office, 1912. Dendy, Mary. Feeble-minded. Economic Review, 13 : 257-279, July, 1903. Dugdale, Robert L. The Jukes, A Study in Crime, Pauperism, Disease, and Heredity. Putman, N. Y., 1910. Estabrook, A. H. and Davenport, C. B. The Nam Family. Eugenic Record Office, Cold Spring Harbor, N. Y., 1912. Estabrook, A. H. The Jukes in 1915. Carnegie Institution, Wash- ington, D. C., 1916. Gillin, John L. Some Aspects of Feeble-Mindedness in Wisconsin. U. of Wis. Extension Div. Bui., Serial No. 940, Gen. Ser. No. 727, June, 1918. Goddard, H. H. The Kallikak Family. Macmillan, N. Y., 1912. Johnson, Alexander. Concerning a Form of Degeneracy. Amer. Jour, of Sociology, 4:326-334; 463-473; November, 1898; January, 1899. Key, W. E. Feebleminded Citizens in Pennsylvania. Publication No. 16, Public Charities Assn. of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, 1915. Kite, Elizabeth S. The Binet-Simon Measuring Scale for Intelligence. Bulletin No. 1, Committee on Provision for Feeble-minded, Phila. Lundberg, Emma 0. A Social Study of Mental Defectives in New Castle Co., Del. U. S. Dept. of Labor, Children's Bureau, Pub. No. 24, Washington, D. C., 1917. Mental Defectives in Indiana. A Survey of Ten Counties. Second Re- port of the Indiana Committee on Mental Defectives, Indianapolis, Ind., 1919. Surveys in Mental Deviation in Prisons, Public Schools and Orphanages in California. Cal. State Bd. of Charities and Corrections, Sacra- mento, 1918. Tredgold, A. F. Mental Deficiency. Wood, N. Y., 1908. Winship, A. E. Jukes-Edwards, A Study in Education and Heredity. Myers, Harrisburg, Pa., 1900. CHAPTER IX RURAL RECREATION, DRAMA, ART EXTRACT FROM THE WILL OF CHARLES LOUNSBURY * * ITEM : I devise to boys jointly all the useful fields and com- mons where ball may be played; all pleasant waters where one may swim; all snow-clad hills where one may coast; and all streams and ponds where one may fish, or where, when grim winter comes, one may skate ; to have and to hold the same for the period of their boyhood. "Item: To young men jointly I devise and bequeath all boisterous, inspiring sports of rivalry, and I give to them the disdain of weakness and undaunted confidence in their own strength, though they be rude ; I give them the power to make lasting friendships, and of possessing companions, and to them exclusively I give all merry songs and brave choruses, to sing with lusty voices." THE NEED OF PLAY IN RURAL LIFE x HENRY S. CURTIS IN the early days there was plenty of hunting and fishing, and there was an occasional scalping party, conducted by the Indians, which gave variety to life and prevented it from being dull. Such conditions brought out the manhood in boys and awoke the heroic in girls. There was not the time or energy or often the opportunity for vice. Men and women living under such conditions did not see the need of play. Life itself was a des- perate game of engrossing interest. The farmer has been too i Adapted from Introduction, "Play and Recreation," pp. 13-16, Ginn, Boston, 1914. 226 RURAL RECREATION 227 busy improving his farm to take thought of social conditions or to notice the change. In his haste to be rich, he has forgotten to live. He has not learned to love nature or his work. He and his wife are working too long hours themselves, and working their sons and daughters too long. Following a plow or a drag over a cultivated field is not as interesting as felling the trees in the forest and burning the clearing. Much farm machinery has been introduced and the work and hardships have become less. Perhaps the farm is not less interesting to the adult far- mer who is trained to handle machinery and to understand the problems with which he has to deal, but country life is vastly less interesting to children and young people, because its danger and romance are gone. The nature appeal of great forests, and wild animals and a wild life is gone. The adventure and romance and exploration are gone. The opportunities of taking up new land and becoming a proprietor have largely gone. The cooperation and sociability of the pioneer have been replaced by the independence that has come with safety and labor-saving devices. The rural school is no more a social center. The re- sults of these conditions are upon us. Forty-three per cent, of American farms are now held by tenants. It is very difficult if not impossible to get either a hired girl or a hired man in most sections. The more capable members of the population are drifting toward the city, and there is a vague but general unrest and dissatisfaction among the younger generation, which is the outward expression of this hunger for a larger life. The country must take seriously this problem of readjust- ment. It must provide some substitute for the adventtfre and romance and sociability that have disappeared. It must break the isolation and spirit of self-sufficiency of the* modern farm that has replaced the interdependence and sociability of the pioneer. It must restore to the country school at least as much of social value as it had in the old days of spelling matches and debates. It must appropriate for itself the message of the modern gospel of play. This should not come to the country as something wholly new, but rather as a restoration and a read- justment. It is essentially an effort to give back to life those fundamental social values of which changing conditions have deprived it. 228 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Rural life has become over-serious and over-sordid. It must perceive that life and love and happiness, not wealth, are the objects of living. There must be injected into it the spirit of play. The isolation of the farm home must be broken by estab- lishing some place where farm people will frequently meet to- gether, and the colder and freer months must be more largely utilized for education, recreation, .and the public good. The hours of work must be reduced, and the half holiday must -be brought in. The country must discover again in its daily life the adventure and romance and beauty that have passed. All too often in these years of earnest struggle for success, the children have been only a by-product of the farm. The farmer has loved and cared for them, but the rearing and training of a worthy family has not been one of his objects in life. He has cared for his corn and potatoes, but his children have "just growed." Play he has often confounded either with idleness or exercise, deeming it only a useless waste of energy, better devoted to pulling weeds or washing dishes. Yet play- fulness is almost synonymous with childhood; it is the deepest expression of the child soul, and nature's instrument for fash- ioning him to the human plan. Play is needed by the country child no less than by the city child ; but, with decreasing families and enlarging farms, it is becoming increasingly difficult. The equipment that is necessary must be introduced into the home and the yard. Play must be organized at the country school, as it is coming to be at the city school. The social center, the Boy Scouts, and the Camp Fire Girls must bring back the adventure and ro'mance that the country has lost. The rural school must train the child to perceive and love the beauty of the open coun- try, to hear the thousand voices Jn which Nature speaks to her true worshipers. RURAL RECREATION 229 PHYSICAL EDUCATION IN RURAL SCHOOLS * LAURENCE S. HILL PHYSICAL education in rural schools is a problem that has not yet been satisfactorily solved. It is a problem that presents sev- eral angles. We must determine the needs not alone of the boys and girls of the rural schools but also the needs of the rural com- munities in a physical, moral and social way. We must deter- mine what physical education should include and how to in- augurate and organize its various phases. There has been rather consistent opposition to physical edu- cation in the rural communities. Judging from the testimony of several district superintendents and many teachers of rural schools and from our own experience in New York State, we must conclude that opposition to this so-called "fad" has its be- ginning in several facts. First, it involves the expenditure of money. This has been our experience in the solution of most problems as well as in the accomplishment of most aims. The problem is indeed difficult of solution when communities come to value money more highly than they do activities that make for greater social, moral and physical efficiency. It is easy to meas- ure the value of tangible things, but difficult to estimate the growth in education, refinement and culture on the part of the child. This is the reason why people generally are willing to spend money in those things the results of which are apparent at once and measurable in dollars and cents, but hesitate and often refuse to give to their own community those things which are necessary for the fullest development of the boys and girls. Another reason for opposition to physical education in the rural schools is that the people of these communities do not realize the value of this phase of education. They do not ap- preciate the need for a well-organized health program. They haven't the right conception of what it is, what it includes and what it should accomplish. The feeling is general that they are getting all the physical education they need in their daily labors. They point with complacency to the fact that they have all the i Adapted from American Physical Education Revieic, Jan.. 1010, pp. 27- 32. Read before the Physical Education Dept, N. E. A., Pittsburgh, Pa., Julv 2, 1018 230 RURAL SOCIOLOGY fresh air there is ; the city people may need physical education, not they. They do not know the corrections necessary for oc- cupational defects, the physical need of social life, and of that type of activity which will diminish the exaggerated awkward- ness of the country lad. Here, too, the rural school-teacher is apparently lost. She is apt to know nothing or very little about physical education and health education. She takes a very small part in the affairs of the community. She has not made herself felt in the life of the child out of t-he school. The teach- ing of physical training seems but to add one more burden to the many she is already carrying. She is not capable of giving a good account of herself in the health education of the child. She therefore is opposed to it. Not the least of all causes for opposition is that in many of those districts where physical train- ing has already been inaugurated the instructors supervising the work have not been properly trained. Their knowledge of physical education is limited. Is it not just possible that this last-mentioned fact may in some degree be attributed to the sys- tems of physical training J common in various institutions of learning throughout the country in which the supervisor, per- chance, has learned gymnastics but missed the mark in physical education ? From some of these institutions one gets the notion that athletics is physical training, or calisthenics is physical train- ing, and that these activities comprise all there is to physical training. The institutions themselves seem to have the idea that they are promoting physical training, for upon investigation we find published in their catalogs the statement that they have courses in physical culture and naturally we find the students going out from these institutions to promote the same type of edu- cation. With such conditions it is little wonder that we find op- position to physical training as a part of the school curriculum. Now what can we do to overcome this opposition? We must go slowly. We may give entertainments, play and athletic festi- vals with as many children taking part as is possible. This is the best means of popularizing the work I know of. At these festi- vals offer games or events suitable for adults, especially those activities that bring back fond memories. Don't lose an oppor- tunity of getting the parents to the school or playground to in- spect the work. RURAL RECREATION 231 I have received many reports from rural school supervisors of physical training concerning the ctifficult task of winning the support of teachers, parents, and trustees. In every instance where festivals or physical training demonstrations have been given these supervisors and their superintendents have been en- thusiastic over the support of the community won for the work as a direct result of these demonstrations. People will listen to talks on various health topics and become enthusiastic supporters of a health program once they are won over to what physical education means. You must show them what they are getting for their money. The most vital factor in the physical education program is after all the teacher and the supervisor. People of proper training, of faculty for the work, with enthusiastic interest, and with a vision of the possibilities of the work and opportunity for service will do more to develop wholesome recreational and civic activities than any other possible agency. They will popularize this train- ing in the rural communities and wipe out the opposition to it. And now we must determine the needs of the boys and girls of the rural schools and of the rural communities. These must necessarily be stated in general terms. In the first place health- ful and attractive surroundings are essential to the physical, mental, social and moral welfare of the children and to the life of the community. Instruction in personal hygiene and sanitation of the schoolroom and yard is needed, and in order not to blush with embarrassment and to teach effectively, hygienic and sani- tary conditions must exist, beginning with the teacher and the buildings. It is useless to preach if preaching is all we do. It is absolutely necessary for the boys and girls to learn these laws of health through observation and practice. Attention must be called to them of course. Morning inspection of pupils' room, buildings and yard must be conducted. These must be followed up by visits to the home to see that instructions are carried out. School life is a severe nervous strain if the child is expected to always observe proper decorum and to sit still for long periods. We are fighting nature if we compel the child to do this. On the other hand school life will not become a nervous strain if suffi- cient periods are given for relaxation and physical exercise. In- 232 RURAL SOCIOLOGY hibition is one of the needs of the child, but all inhibition and no relaxation makes of the child a nervous wreck. It is not a ques- tion of whether the school program affords time for this relaxa- tion through activity, it is a matter of changing our school pro- gram if necessary to meet the needs of the child. We are begin- ning to get away from the obsolete idea of fitting the child to our system of education. In the rural communities, this idea makes way very slowly. In making our education satisfy the needs of the child the first need which appears is his physical need. Traditional school life has a harmful effect upon the normal posture of the body, and poor posture in turn works great havoc with the health of the child because of the crowding of the vital organs of the body. Muscular weakness, fatigue and the occu- pations of rural life are common factors of bad posture. The. rapid growth of children which saps the power and efficiency of the muscles, the excessive fatigue of supporting muscles which results from hard labor, and long periods of sitting and standing are other common causes of bad posture. The need of postural exercise is apparent. The natural tendency to avoid the fatigue of holding one fixed position is one cause of the restlessness of children. Rhythm and grace of movement is a need of the child. Ob- serve how one moves, walks, and talks and you will learn a great deal about him. The habitual rhythm of motion is fundamental for full intellectual development. There is a profound and close relationship between our muscle habits and thinking. The rural child is conspicuously wanting in spontaneous graceful move- ments. We know, now, enough about the developments of chil- dren and adolescents to know that the powers of activity are always developed before the powers of control. A great many people live and die undeveloped. They have no control. No phase of our education can train the individual in this respect quite as well as can games, athletics, rhythmic exercises, exercises to response commands, and other branches of physical training. Nowhere will boys and girls receive this type of training if not during the years of school life. The children of the soil need physical, mental and moral cour- age. Exercises and games which require nerve, daring, courage and skill should be given. Through the appointment of leaders RURAL RECREATION 233 the individuals acquire confidence in themselves and the ability to lead others. They will acquire the ability to stand defeat as gracefully as victory, recognition of the rights of others, coop- eration, self-subordination for the good of the majority, and leadership through team games and athletics. These rural chil- dren need, perhaps more than any other one thing, the social aspect of these games and contests. Rural communities must have more wholesome social life. There is a dire need for social centers in the country. Entertainments, festivals, and commu- nity "sings" will do more to bring our country brothers out of their shells than any type of activity yet observed, and the vehicle for inaugurating these social gatherings is the supervisor of physical training, who must act as a general community leader. We must give these children something they can use when through school as well as develop them while in school. We must develop the habit of wholesome exercise for after school life. Activities that develop health, strength, intelligence and char- acter must be given in order to give the rural children the fullest measure of physical education. Those activities are manifold. They should be utilized during frequent periods in the school pro- gram during recess and after school. Directed play is needed for the rural children far more than for their city cousins. To sum up these needs we may say that the rural child requires a special type of activity. It is useless to preach morality, self- control, recognition of the rights of others, altruism, self-confi- dence, determination, loyalty, cooperation, courage, skill, and a host of other attributes which the individual should acquire in school, if mere preaching is all that is attempted. It is necessary to give the individual opportunity to learn these valuable lessons for himself, and this he can do through normal directed activity better than he can in any other way. Children need activity in- tended to promote health, and body as well as moral discipline; activities for the health and happiness of all boys and girls at the same time as the mental and moral training. They need to real- ize the obligations to the society in which they live, and to have a readiness of spirit and body to meet those obligations in daily life. They need to be made conscious of the fact that it is not for themselves alone that they sing patriotic songs, perform daily drills, play games and undergo health examinations, but for 234 RURAL SOCIOLOGY themselves as happier, healthier, more efficient members of the community in which they live. Space should be provided to serve not only for the drills, plays, games, competitions and the like but also for entertainments and community gatherings. In order to inaugurate a program of this character it is neces- sary that each community should have a general community leader. Whatever the future may develop in bringing this need to a practical realization in terms of specific organization, for the present, at least, this work must be done by the local leader of physical education. Now the usual instruction afforded by the majority of courses in physical education fails properly to equip its product with the necessary training. The physical director in a rural community, to be able properly to work out this pro- gram, must have a very definite and concrete notion of personal and school hygiene, health and sanitary inspections, inspection for signs of abnormality, and injury or illness, for conditions which call for immediate attention on the part of the teacher, and for signs of disordered health for which children should be kept at home ; for conditions productive of bodily deformity, pos- ture, and the like; of the detection of defective sight and hear- ing; of the organization and duties of health officers and pupil sanitary inspectors; she must have a very definite and concrete notion of physical training, including calisthenics, athletics, games, dancing, swimming, etc., and all those terms imply, and the practical conduct and organization of these various phases of physical training into a rational health program; she must have a very definite and concrete notion of the nature and function of play, of child nature, of festivals and entertainments for old and young, of the social center or community center; and she must have a vision of the service and duties of a general com- munity leader as well as a technical knowledge of her subject. I wish I had time to elaborate on the training of a so-called general community leader. At Cornell University we have made a special study of the needs of the rural boys and girls and of the rural communities. A Division of Physical Education in the Rural Education Department of the Summer Session of the Col- lege of Agriculture has been organized for the purpose of train- ing teachers of physical education as general community leaders RURAL RECREATION 235 for the rural districts. Besides the general training courses for physical directorships, special emphasis is made on personal hygiene and school hygiene and school inspection, physical diag- nosis, first aid and home nursing, with opportunities for hos- pital practice for the training in the duties of the rural school nurse ; games,- athletics and folk dancing with special reference to organized, directed rural recreation; psychology and child study, rural leadership and administration and rural sociology; and the practical organization and conduct of a department of entertainments, demonstrations, festivals and pageants. "We feel that teachers with faculty for the work, with enthusiastic inter- est and such training will solve the health problem in the rural districts of New York State. The oft-repeated assertion that the rural communities are the basic social organization upon which rests the stability of the na- tion still holds true. A proper conception, therefore, of rural physical education, is a fundamental educational necessity if a definite program of development is needed. An adequately trained personnel to put this program in operation is the first step in this direction. In some of the states, this idea is already taking definite form in legislation and in educational organiza- tions. A nation-wide movement to this end is indicated for the near future. This body can do no more constructive service for the general advancement of physical education in America than by a sane and enthusiastic support of that important phase of physical education so urgently needed in rural communities. WHAT THE PEOPLE LIKE 1 523 COMMUNITIES IN PENNSYLVANIA WARREN H. WILSON Baseball 29 per cent. Skating 3 per cent. Social and picnics. .18 per cent. Dancing ... 3 per cent. Pool and Billiards.. 13 per cent. Cards 3 per cent. Moving picture Basketball 3 per cent. shows 11 per cent. Football 3 per cent. i Adapted from "Rural Survey in Penna.," p. 17. Department of the Church and Country Life, Pres. Board of Home Missions. 236 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Gymnasium athletics 5 per cent. Tennis 3 per cent. Concerts and Bowling 2 per cent. lectures 3 per cent. Golf 1 per cent. THE FARM PLAYGROUND * W. H. JENKINS THE following words were spoken by a very successful far- mer, who brought up a fine family of boys on the farm : I brought up seven boys on the farm. Every one wanted to stay on the farm until they grew to manhood. They are successful business men with good habits of life. Some are farmers, and some in other occupations for which their gifts best fitted them. The boys stayed at home and worked with me, because there were more attractions and enjoyments for them there than in any other place. We all worked together. We paid for one farm and then bought another and paid for it, and when one of the boys went into business for himself, his training, habits of life, and a little capital we had for him, assured his success. One of the main reasons why my boys loved the farm life and home so well that they never wanted any of the dissipations that are demoralizing, and which the young people on the farm engage in because there is nothing that satisfies their natural love for play and recreation, was that I spent $30 to build a playground where they could play baseball, tennis or croquet, and I played with them. I have stopped work right in haying time to play with the boys and then we all worked better for the change. The above is the testimony of a man who was successful both in making the farm pay, and in bringing out the best qualities of manhood in boys, so that they made men of such intelligence and vitality and character that they were prepared to overcome difficulties and win the battle in the struggle of life. DRAMA FOR RURAL COMMUNITIES 2 ALFRED G. ARVOLD THE United States Department of Agriculture recently sent out hundreds of letters to farmers' wives asking them what would make life on the farm more attractive. Hundreds of the 1 Adapted from the Rural New Yorker, N. Y., June 29, 1912. 2 Adapted from American Review of Reviews, 54: 309-311, 1916. RURAL DRAMA 237 replies, which were received from practically every section, told the story of social starvation. They wanted some place to go. They wanted to be entertained. Moral degeneracy in the coun- try, like the city, is usually due to lack of proper social recrea- tion. When people have something healthful with which to oc- cupy their minds they rarely think of wrongdoing. The impulse of building up a community spirit in a rural neighborhood may come from without, but the real work of socialization must come from within. The country people them- selves must work out their own civilization. With a knowledge of these basic facts in the mind the idea of the Little Country Theater was conceived. The theater be- came a reality when a dingy old chapel on the second floor of the administration building at the North Dakota Agricultural College, located at Fargo, was remodeled into what is now known as the Little Country Theater. It is simpty a large playhouse placed under a reducing-glass, and is just the size of the aver- age country town hall. The decorations are plain and simple, the color scheme being a green and gold. Simplicity is the keynote of the theater, for it was not meant for the institution alone, but for every rural community in North Dakota and the rest of America as well. It is an ex- ample of what can be done with hundreds of village halls, un- used portions of school-houses, and garrets and basements of country homes and country churches. The object of the Little Country Theater movement is to pro- duce such plays and community programs as can be easily staged in just such places, or, in fact, in any place where people as- semble for social betterment. Its principal function is to stim- ulate an interest for good, clean drama and original enter- tainment among the people living in the open country and villages, in order to help them find themselves and become better satisfied with the community in which they live. In other words, its real purpose is to use the drama, and all thfiat goes with the drama, as a sociological force in getting people together and acquainted with each other, so that they may find out the hidden life forces of nature itself. Instead of making the drama a luxury for the classes, its aim is to make it an in- strument for the enlightenment and enjoyment of the masses. 238 RURAL SOCIOLOGY The work of the Little Country Theater has more than justi- fied its existence. It has produced scores of plays and com- munity programs. The people who have participated in them seem to have caught the spirit. One group of young people from various sections of the State represented five different na- tionalities Scotch, Irish, English, Norwegian and Swedish successfully staging "The Fatal Message," a one-act comedy by John Kendrick Bangs. In order to depict Russian life, one of the dramatic clubs in the institution gave "A Russian Honey- moon." Another cast of characters from the country presented "Cherry Tree Farm," an English comedy, in a most accept- able manner. "Leonarda," a play by Bjornsterne Bjornson, was presented by the Edwin Booth Dramatic Club and was un- doubtedly one of the best plays ever staged in the Little Coun- try Theater. An orchestra played Norwegian music between the acts. An illustration to demonstrate that a home-talent play is a dynamic force in helping people to find themselves is afforded in the presentation of "The Country Life Minstrels" by the Agricultural Club, an organization of young men coming en- tirely from country districts. The story reads like a romance. The club decided to give a minstrel show. At the first re- hearsal, nobody exhibited any talent except one young man. He could clog. At the second rehearsal a tenor and a mandolin player were discovered; at the third, several good voices were found; whereupon a quartet and a twelve-piece band were organized. When the play was presented, twenty-eight young men furnished an excellent entertainment. During the last three years nearly twenty young ladies, the majority from country districts, have presented short plays. Each of them has also selected the production, but they have promoted the play and trained the cast of characters as well. When Percy MacKaye, the well-known dramatist, visited the Little Country Theater, four young men presented "Sam Average." "The Traveling Man," a miracle play, was presented, in honor of Lady Gregory, of Ireland, on her last tour of America. Many other stand- ard plays have also been presented by these rural amateurs as well as a number of original productions. RURAL DRAMA 239 Several original plays have been presented to large crowds. Three of these, "For the Cause," "A New Liberator" and "Bridging the Chasm," made an unusually fine impression upon the audiences. They were written under the direction of Abbie Simmons, writer of plays and a splendid student of the drama. Perhaps the most interesting incidents which have occurred in connection with the work of the Little Country Theater were the presentation of "A Farm Home Scene in Iceland Thirty Years Ago," "The Prairie Wolf," "Back to the Farm" and "A Bee in a Drone's Hive." All of these productions have come out of the country people themselves. Standing room was at a premium. The Little Country Theater could not hold the crowds, 80 per cent, of the people being farmers who were eager to see the drama of their creation. "A Farm! Home Scene in Iceland Thirty Years Ago" was staged by twenty young men and women of Icelandic descent whose homes are in the country districts of North Dakota. The tableau was very effective. The scene represented an interior sitting-room of an Icelandic home. The walls were whitewashed ; in the rear of the room was a fireplace ; the old grandfather was seated in an arm-chair near the fireplace reading a story in the Icelandic language. About the room were several young ladies in native costumes, busily engaged in spinning yarn and knit- ting, a favorite pastime of an Icelandic home. On a chair at the right was a young man with a violin playing selections from an Icelandic composer. Through the small window rays of light were thrown, representing the midnight sun and the northern lights. Just before the curtain fell, twenty young people, all Icelanders, joined in singing their national song, which has the same tune as "America." The effect of the tableau was far- reaching. The two hundred people who saw it will never for- get it. "The Prairie AVolf," a play written by a young man named John Lange, was staged in the Little Country Theater before an audience representing more than thirty rural communities in the State. The play was not only written by a young farmer, but it was staged and rehearsed by country people. It was a tre- 240 RURAL SOCIOLOGY mendous success. Dozens of communities in the State have al- ready asked for permission to present it. The action throughout the play was superb. "Back to the Farm," written by a student of the Minnesota Agricultural College, was presented on three successive nights during the Tri-State Grain-Growers' Convention, which is held every year in the city of Fargo. Seven hundred and fifty per- sons, 90 per cent, of them country people, witnessed this produc- tion. Hundreds were turned away from the theater. The cast of characters in the play was made up entirely of young people from the country. Last fall, Cecil Baker, a young farmer from Edmunds, N. D., who has caught the social vision of the soil, came to my office with a manuscript of a play which he had written entitled "A Bee in a Drone's Hive, or a A Farmer in the City." Mr. Baker wanted his friends to present it, and they did. Two hundred and fifty people saw the production. Some said it was the greatest argument in favor of country life that had ever been presented. Others were astounded at the naturalness of the make-up and the costuming of the characters. Everybody was more than satisfied. The influence of the Little Country Theater in the State as well as the Nation has been far-reaching. Scarcely a day passes but somebody writes asking for data in regard to it, or for copies of plays, and matter for presentation on public programs. These letters tell an intensely interesting story of the social condition of the community. During the past few years, in North Dakota, hundreds of people young and old have partici- pated in home-talent productions and community programs. Thousands of pieces of play-matter and pamphlets have been loaned to individuals, literary societies, farmers' clubs, civic clubs, and other organizations. While the Little Country Theater is located in North Dakota, it nevertheless stands ready to assist other communities in every way possible to develop community life. RURAL DRAMA 241 THE MIRACLE PLAY AT POMFRET, CONNECTICUT x ELLA M. BOULT Two months earlier our Neighborhood Association had been organized, and had already proved itself responsible to every call upon it. We had not believed that its varying elements would make common cause so readily. It had developed a sur- prising unity of interests, and a sympathetic and hearty coopera- tion in developing those interests. And now Christmas was approaching, supreme season of festival and celebration. What should we do to commemorate it we, whose very foundation stone was brotherhood, community of interests, fellowship, good- will? Back of us were three church societies: the Congregational, sentinel and saint of every New England village ; the Episcopal, always proudly assured in its sense of power ; and the far-reach- ing, never flagging Roman Catholic. All three are generous in their response to the material demands of Christmas, as they are devout in spiritual ministrations at this and all seasons of the year. From all three, and from without the church, we draw our membership. Not only are we of many creeds but of many vocations, and especially of many nations. Our Irish and Swedish membership equals our native Puritan elements; we have a number of English and Scotch members, and a few Swiss, Italian, Portuguese, Canadians and Negroes. As to vocation we are largely working people, and are of all trades domestic workers, day-laborers, carpenters and builders, preachers, teachers, painters, plumbers, merchants, farmers. It is true that in our community we have a large number of the leisure class, so called. Who shall say that they are not the busiest of all classes? Certainly from them we may draw a sym- pathetic and helpful portion of our membership. Above all it (the festival) must be expressive of the great event that it commemorates. Throughout the ages Christmas has never weakened in its tremendous significance. Bells ring, candles glow, greetings and gifts and good cheer abound ; but always, be- low these surface manifestations, there is the Manger at Bethle- i Adapted from Country Life in America, 25:49-56, December, 1913. 242 RURAL SOCIOLOGY hem, the transfigured Mother, the pondering Joseph, the dumb brutes, the night, the stars, the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night, the glory of the Lord, the heavenly hosts, the miracle of miracles. Our impulse was toward the wonderful reality. We did not approach the undertaking without trepida- tion. With material so heterogeneous could we maintain the solemnity of our subject, sacred in itself and wrapt round with centuries of mystical beauty? Our shepherds were boys from the farms ; our angelic hosts were made up of girls in their teens ; our wise men were, one a Frenchman, one a Moor, and one a native of New England stock; by trade they were a plumber, a day laborer and the village storekeeper and postmaster ; the retinues of the Magi were school boys as full of life and spirit and mischief as the average boy; Joseph was an Italian laborer, Mary a young Irish girl. The only representative of the brute world was Laddie, our beautiful collie, typical of the shepherd's -calling. Laddie had had no more dramatic training than the others, but his instinct proved like theirs, perfect. When, a few months later, he died, he was mourned far and wide as the ' ' dog that came with the shep- herds to see the Babe in the manger." The event proved that faith in our people, however great, was still less than their due. Nothing more beautiful came of our miracle play than the devout spirit of our young actors. It seemed to our Italian workman an astounding thing that he should take the role of San Giuseppe but no art could have taught him the profound gravity that he assumed. It came from within, from the solemn realization of the verities. There is sometimes in human nature a certain simplicity that responds like the heart of a child to the elemental without. This quality nurtured beyond any doubt by country life, has shown itself more and more to be a characteristic of our people. When the curtain fell upon the last scene of our little drama there was silence a silence of deep emotion. The lights came on with an incongruous glare, thrusting us with a rude jolt forward into the twentieth century. They disclosed an audience unable to speak. The "Silent Night" melody that still filled the air resolved itself again into words in an effort to make ar- ticulate the spell that kept us dumb. Haydn, even in his great- RURAL DRAMA 243 est masterpieces, never surpassed this theme in its elemental, pas- toral quality, so touchingly eloquent of the open country, the starlight, the rudeness and homeliness of the stable, the peace, the calm, the vastness of the event. WHAT THE PAGEANT CAN DO FOR THE TOWN 1 GEORGE P. BAKER HOLIDAYS, which should be of interest to all, and not a mere excuse for idleness that leads to drinking or other vice, are in far too many cases ill used. The growth of competitive outdoor sports in fitting season is a move in the right direction, for they employ many and entertain more ; they are democratic and healthful. Clearly the desideratum for our holidays is some- thing which interests and occupies, as participants or audience, as many people as possible, which does not emphasize social or money distinctions, and which produces something more than momentary pleasure. This is just what the modern pageant, as to some extent already developed in the United States and widely successful in England, provides. What is a pageant then? "Something between a play and a procession." It is not merely processioning by people in fancy costumes, nor tableaux on fixed or movable stages, nor dancing, nor instrumental or vocal music, nor dramatic scenes in prose or verse. It may be all of these, or some of these, combined. It is a composite form that stands between a procession like that of the trades or of the Antiques and Horribles and a regular play. As to place or scene it is not limited, but may be given indoors or outdoors, though outdoor performances are usually more pic- turesque, make it possible to use more performers and provide comfortably for a larger audience. Its aims in setting are pic- turesqueness and space sufficient for free movement by the many people taking part. Nor is the pageant limited as to subject. It may revivify the history of state, city, town, village, college, school or individual. It may be an allegory conveying some stimulating idea or moral 1 Adapted from Ladies' Home Journal, April, 1914, p. 44. 244 RURAL SOCIOLOGY lesson, or a pageant of education, of beauty or of poetry. It may re-create the past, explain the present, suggest the future. In a word the pageant is what our enthusiasm, imagination and in- telligent cooperation can make it ; it is, and should be, the play- thing and the playtime of the masses. A small pageant, to be sure, may employ only two hundred or three hundred people, though a large pageant requires the cooperation of several thou- sand. But even a small pageant, especially if given outdoors, may each time be played to from three thousand to five thousand people. Some of the most successful pageants here and abroad have been given in the smaller places. Even fifty people may give a creditable pageant. Nor is it true that only places rich in history should attempt pageantry. Different conditions demand differ- ent pageants ; that is all. There is the Pageant of the River, for the river town which is lacking in beauty or scanty in history; there is the Pageant of the Woods for the lumbering town ; there is the Pageant of Grain for the farming community, the Pageant of Steel for the manufacturing town, and the Pageant of the Mountains for the village among the hills. Given imagination and constructive skill on the part of the maker of the text, with hearty cooperation by all concerned in the work, and any town not far distant from railroads or with roads not too bad for automobiles may have a pageant without fear of going into debt. It is not true, then, that only rich and large communities, or those containing a few citizens able to be large guarantors, may attempt a pageant. The great desideratum is time not in which to prepare the actors, but in which to make ready a finished text, to provide appropriate costumes and to foresee all the details which provide for the comfort and artistic satisfaction of the public. If possible some eight to twelve months before a pageant begins, plans for it should be roughed out and committees or- ganized. The text, which has been gone over again and again for the largest dramatic effectiveness in the smallest space, the greatest clearness of meaning as a whole and the largest effect of beauty, should be ready in proof at least a month before rehearsals begin. Thus the parts may be learned without too great a strain, and changes which are first seen to be necessary in the rehearsals RURAL DRAMA 245 may be made in time to allow an early final printing of the text. Costumes should be made slowly and systematically, either by the persons taking part or by seamstresses directed by some Mis- tress of the Robes. Time in this provides inexpensively costumes which, hurriedly prepared or rented in quantities, would be both less artistic and very expensive. A book called " Festivals and Plays," by P. Chubb, contains many valuable suggestions as to economies in such preparations. Time means, too, a chance to work up wide enthusiasm among the townspeople and to spread far and wide a knowledge of the coming pageant. In the first days of many a pageant townspeo- ple have said that local history, costumes of the past, old firearms and domestic utensils were lacking. In the last days of prepara- tion, however, costumes, souvenirs, relics have come flowing in from all sides, resurrected from garrets and cellars. In one in- stance a town that had been strangely lethargic, when urged by an enterprising citizen to found a historical museum, took hold of the plan with vigor after its pageant, placing in the museum many of the costumes, implements and firearms which the pageant had brought together. On one other account people of small communities are some- times kept away from pageantry. "We are not an artistic com- munity, ' ' they say. ' ' They are four or five among us who have acted a little as amateurs, and still more who sing well, but there is no widespread, marked artistic ability. Who is to prepare our text and rehearse the pageant ? Who are to act, sing and dance in it?" At first any pageant master must be prepared to meet in the native American man an ill-concealed feeling that art music, acting, painting, even singing, and, above all, dancing is for women, not for men. It was certainly evident at first in Peterboro, New Hampshire ; but as the pageant shaped itself be- fore those who came somewhat timidly to watch rehearsals, those who at the outset lacked the interest or the courage to take part came in one by one. In the beginning it was hard to find men enough for the necessary parts. But in the final rehearsals there were enough, and among the most enthusiastic participants were men who had at first stood aloof. Nc community that has co- operated men, women and children of all ages in producing a local pageant will ever again look down on art as effeminate- 246 RURAL SOCIOLOGY They will foster the artistic power any one of them may possess and will welcome art of all kinds, grateful for the uplifting pleasure and the beauty it brings into their lives. Again and again American pageants, large and small, have proved this true. And the artistry revealed in those who never suspected that they even possessed it ! I remember one quiet, self-contained farmer of nearly seventy who, though willingness itself to help in every way, bewailed his inexperience and probable lack of all ability. Even in the first rehearsal of a scene arranged to illus- trate MacDowell's "Deserted Farm" he caught exactly the re- quired spirit of delicate, wistful pathos. He "lived his part," though it had to be expressed in the art most difficult for the inexpressive New Englander, the art of pantomime. A hint, a suggestion, he took instantly and developed with keen intelli- gence. At the end of the first rehearsal, when he came for some directions, I said: "How did you know so quickly exactly what that man should do ? " "Ah," he said sadly, "years ago it was no uncommon thing for me to be saying 'Good-by' to old friends that were going westward to the Middle States or California, and so I just re- membered and let go." Day by day, filled with growing enthusiasm, he came to me with illuminating suggestions of business which characterized his part. My task was merely helping him to express largely enough for an audience of a thousand people what he felt perfectly and even at the outset expressed adequately for those within short range. And his is the story of many men, women and children in all these pageants. He is a foolish pageant master, indeed, who does not encourage his actors to suggest business and even lines for the scenes in which they take part. What will come to them, absorbed as they are in their work, is often far more vivid and right than the lines of the author, no matter how carefully selected. One of the most effective details in a Revolutionary scene was entirely rephrased and infinitely bettered by an old man of eighty-seven playing a part. He had never acted before. At first he looked on the whole experiment a little doubtfully ; but, once stirred by what had meant so much to his forebears, he quickened in imag- ination. Enthusiastically living the scene over and over both at RURAL DRAMA 247 rehearsal and away from it, lo ! one day he thought of lines far more characterizing than those he had originally been given. Moreover the pageant that does not reveal unexpected powers in more than one youth, and perhaps determine a later career, is unusual. A pageant is to the artistic youth of the community a great opportunity for self-revelation. The most essential matters in preparing for a pageant are text and trainer. To handle a mixed crowd of several hundred men, women and children so as to discover and reveal to them any ar- tistic power they may possess, so as to keep them contented and even happy when working hard, and so as to get ultimate order out of original chaos, may require the trained hand. It is prob- ably safer, therefore, to call on somebody experienced in this work, and to pay him or her well. If, however, there is any man or woman in the community who feels competent to pro- vide the text don't put that person aside until an outline of what he or she wishes to do has been considered by the commit- tee, or, better still, passed on by some person experienced in pageantry. If several people prepare the text, rather than have it ineffective let the pageant master decide whether the scenes may stand as written or should be simply the basis of a rework- ing by him or some other skilled hand. Indeed writing pageants is not so easy as many seem to think. Given outdoors or in large halls the pageant cannot depend to the extent the play can on the spoken word. Pantomime of a large, free sort, choral effects and processioning must in many instances replace the spoken word. A pageant should as far as possible have some unity of idea, to bind part with part and to give it meaning as a whole. Audi- ences do not like evenings of one-act plays. Nor, in a pageant, do they like a dozen one-act episodes of singing, dancing or act- ing. Let the early parts of the pageant create interest for later parts, arouse query. Carry some characters over from episode to episode or division to division ; contrast similar conditions in different periods. In brief, bind the parts together all you can. But it is meaning as a whole that a pageant most needs, for one of the great dangers of American pageantry to-day is commer- cialism. Commercialism means that instead of writing a pag- eant for each place growing out of its peculiar history, interests 248 RURAL SOCIOLOGY and traditions, some one stands ready with a scheme of pageantry which, if slight adaptations are made in the scenes, may be used almost anywhere. With this plan all that is most desirable in- stantly disappears, for in pageantry of the right sort a com- munity not altogether understanding itself seeks to know itself better, and tries in self-expressive, artistic action to review its past, know the meaning of its present and appreciate rightly the latent beauty of its life. An auditor leaving the pageant field or hall should feel that he understands as never before the special significance of the past and present life of that town. The common share of all workers in the inspiration of dreams, that is what the hearer should have brought away. Individuality, a special meaning that grows out of right interpretation of the life of a particular community that, then, is the great desideratum of the best type of pageant. Is not, then, the pageant worth while ? It spreads widely the name and reputation of a town. It brings trade to it. It rouses and sustains civic pride. It reveals and develops artistry. It gives the fine arts their right position in the life of the people. Above all, it is to the people who share in it a pleasure in the doing, and a proud and delightful memory. When our young people, indeed the people of the country at large, have by popu- lar vote chosen the drama as our chief interest in the fine arts, when the great essential for our proper growth in drama is to give our people right standards, can there be any question that it is wise to foster pageantry in this country ? RURAL ART 1 FRANK A. WAUGH THE term is one which is coming into use in certain circles. Some of the universities now offer courses in rural art. The present article can hardly do more than survey the field and indicate the scope of the subject. Art is, of course, universal, and its principles are the same in the country as in the city. All we can mean therefore by rural i Adapted from Business America, Feb., 1914, pp. 164-167. RURAL ART 249 art is the application of art principles to rural problems. When we reach this ground, no one can doubt that art is able to render a service to the country as much as to the city. Its purpose is to bring order and beauty in place of disorder and ugliness. Beauty seems to be more natural to the country than to the city, and more indispensable. Perhaps it would be wise therefore to make a stronger effort to preserve and enhance the beauty of the country districts. But the country needs also to be orderly. An orderly arrange- ment of roads, farms, fields, public grounds, buildings and of the whole landscape will have considerable practical value. In- deed, order, heaven's first law and the foundation of art, has also great practical value. The ministrations of art may be justi- fied, therefore, on wholly practical grounds. It is wise to pre- sent this argument in most cases, though it would be wrong to make the final test of the service which art would render to the country. It will be worth while to point out in beginning that rural art in America is entirely different from ''peasant art" in the old country. The artists of the Old World recognize and value very highly what they know as bauer-kunst. Perhaps nothings would differentiate more clearly the spirit of American country life from the spirit of Bavarian peasant life than this very difference between American rural art and bauer-kunst. It seems to me that rural art in America ought to deal first with rural architecture. Farmhouses ought to be essentially and typically rural. In the past twenty-five years we have seen many horrible examples of town houses built in the country. The architects have been designing city houses almost exclu- sively and the only new ideas in circulation have been developed to meet urban conditions. In most instances they are wholly unadapted to rural conditions and the results are often genuinely grotesque. It should be remembered distinctly in this connection that some of the best American domestic architecture has been developed in the country. The old-fashioned New England farmhouse and the good old Southern ante-bellum plantation house were fine types. The modern bungalow in its pristine purity is essen- tially a country house and suited to certain types of rural seen- 250 RURAL SOCIOLOGY ery. Unfortunately it is being badly misused by unskillful de- signers and badly misplaced on city streets amidst incongruous surroundings so that one has to be very careful of his admiration for bungalows. It ought to be plain, however, that what we want in the country, and especially on the farms, is good country houses, native to their surroundings and suited in all respects to the life which goes on in them. The same desire may be freely expressed in reference to all other rural and semi-rural buildings, such as schoolhouses, country churches, country libraries, village stores, etc. For the most part these buildings also are copied from city models and the results are depressing. There have been built in all parts of the country a number of fine examples in recent times to show what can be done in the way of country banks, schoolhouses, stores, etc., and these models ought to be followed. The improvement of farmyards is always spoken of in connec- tion with rural art, and frequently as though it were the main issue. Farmyards ought, doubtless, to be embellished and made attractive everywhere, but it seems preposterous to be planting Hydrangea paniculata grandiflora in the front yard while the kitchen sink drains into the well. In other words, the problems of mere ornamentation ought to be the last to be taken up, rather than the first. In this work simple, clean arrangement, tidiness and good order, are worth a great deal more than flower beds and shrubbery. The special value of good shade trees, however, should not be overlooked. The proper application of art to the planning of the farm would reach far beyond the front yard. Every farm needs to be planned as a whole. Different fields and buildings should be ar- ranged in a logical system, in proper relation to one another. This is essentially an art problem, and unless rural art can help in its solution, it has failed at an important point. Landscape gardening, which deals with all these subjects, has in recent years developed on a large scale a special branch of study known as civic art. Like every other line of human en- deavor this has been carried farthest in urban civilization, in its application to cities ; but it has its equally important applications in the country. Rural civic art simply means the application of art principles to all the public affairs in the country. The most RURAL ART 251 important of these are (a) roads and streets, including bridges, street railways and street trees; (b) all public grounds such as parks, picnic grounds, commons, lakes, water fronts, school grounds, cemeteries; (c) all public and semi-public buildings such as schoolhouses, libraries, churches; (d) public recreation facili- ties, especially playgrounds; (e) all public service utilities, such as telephone lines, electric light lines, railway stations and station grounds. All these items of the material equipment of the coun- try should be improved in beauty and in usefulness. Such civic improvement is greatly to be desired in the county as well as in the city and constitutes one of the large fields of rural art. As art deals essentially with what is beautiful, rural art strives to conserve and increase the stock of rural beauty on every hand. It is easy to see that there is a great deal of beauty in the coun- try and to determine what some of the main features are. For example, the country roads are extremely beautiful. They are in a good and important sense the best kind of public parks. Everybody enjoys them whether a-foot or driving, or even tour- ing in an automobile (though this last is the poorest way of all). Much can be done to preserve and even develop the beauty of the country roads. It hardly needs to be added that very little has thus far been done. Any local improvement organization could hardly attempt a better line of work or one in which success is more likely than in this line of preserving the beauties of the country lanes. These country roads are beautiful for their trees and for the wild shrubbery and ferns and flowers which border them. Such native growth, within reason, ought to be preserved ; and it would be an excellent plan t6 use favorable strips of coun- try road as special preserves for wild plants. There are many parts of the country, especially where agriculture is highly suc- cessful, where the wild plants are in imminent danger of extinc- tion. Hundreds of the native species are already almost eradi- cated. No better public place could be found for making a col- lection of these for general instruction and enjoyment than along suitable strips of country road. Many persons are also giving serious thought to the preserva- tion of native birds, fish and small animals. To some extent these objects can be accomplished, especially the protection of the birds, in connection with these roadside plant preserves. 252 RURAL SOCIOLOGY One of the crying evils of modern country life is the rapid re- moval from general use of all streams, stream banks, lakes, lake shores, forests and hills. Within the memory of all elderly peo- ple such sources of recreation were open freely to the world. Every boy could hunt, swim and fish where he liked ; and all peo- ple, old and young, held their picnics on the river banks or went boating on the lakes as they pleased. All this property is now being rapidly taken up by private owners and common people stringently excluded. The only way to preserve any of these ancient and highly valuable rights to future generations is to have them taken very soon under public control. All these ponds, lakes, streams, hills, forests, or at least the best of them, ought to be free for the public use forever; and it is the most immediate and important work of rural civic art to secure these reservations. Of course after the public has secured title to such properties, their various beauties and utilities remain to be de- veloped. Such development will be the natural field before long of rural art. Aside from these park reservations to which the public should hold a legal title there is a much larger sum total of beautiful rural scenery which the public does not need to own, but which everybody can enjoy. This scenery does not need to be neglected simply because it is owned by private individuals and exploited as farms or forests. Every wise community will appreciate its resources of beautiful landscape and will make the most of them. The final test of rural art must be a love of rural beauty. If people will not see the beauty of the country, especially those people who live in it, it is useless to talk to them of art in any other form. There are many ways in which this appreciation of the country beautiful may be developed. It may even be taught in the schools. It is quite as easy to convince one of the beauty of native trees or of the neighborly hills or the local lake as of the Sistine Madonna, or the Hermes of Praxiteles, which most of us never saw. Genuine, thoroughly organized campaigns for the appreciation of local scenery would do more for many communities than organized efforts to produce more corn. RURAL RECREATION 253 BIBLIOGRAPHY Arvold, Alfred G. Soul and the Soil. Playground, 10 : 324-33, Decem- ber, '1910. Bailey, L. H. The Playground in Farming Communities. In his York State Rural Problems, 1:70-78, Lyon, Albany, N. Y., 1913. Bancroft, Jessie H. Games for the Playground, Home, School, and Gymnasium. Macmillan, N. Y., 1909. Children's Games and Rules for Playing. (With Crampton, C. W. and others) Amer. Sports Pub. Co., N. Y., 1916. Buttertield, K. L. Play and Recreation in Our Country Life. Rural Manhood, 3 : 147-150, May, 1912. Intl. Committee Y. M. C. A., Clarke, Ida Clyde. The Community Drama. In The Little Democ- racy, Chapter 13, and Community Music, Chapter 12. D. Appleton & Co., N. Y., 1918. Community Music. The Playground, Vol. 8; 139-142, 1914-1915. Curtis, Henry S. Play and Recreation. Ginn, N. Y., 1914. Dykema, Peter W. Community Music and the Spirit of Democracy, The Playground, 10 : 368-376, Jan., 1919. Spread of Community Music Idea. Annals, 67: 218-223, Sept., 1916. Farwell, Arthur. Community Music Drama. Craftsman, 26 : 418-424, 1914. Gillin, J. L. The Sociology of Recreation. Amer. Jour, of Soc., 19 : 825-834, May, 1914. Groves, E. R. Using the Resources of the Country Church. Assn. Press, N. Y., 1917. Hetheriniiton, Clark W. Play for the Country Boy. Rural Manhood, 2 : 139-142, May, 1911. Johnson, George Ellsworth. Education by Plays and Games. Ginn, N. Y., 1907. Scudder, Myron T. Play Days for Country Schools. Outlook, 92 : 1031-8, August 28, 1909. Organized Play in the Country and Country Village. Journal of .Education, 66: 59-63, July 11, 1907. Rural Recreation, A Socializing Factor. Annals, 40 : 175-190, , March, 1912. Sharp, Cecil J. The Country Dance Book. Novello, London, (in three parts), 1909, 1912,1913. Stern, Renee B. Neighborhood Entertainments. Sturgis, N. Y., 1910. Surette, Thos. W. Community Music. Atlantic Monthly, 117 : 658- 667. The High School as a Center for Community Music. U. S. Bureau of Education Bui. No. 49, pp. 36-37, 1917. The Playground, Vol. 6, No. 8, November, 1912. Special number on Rural Recreation. Published by the Playground and Recreation Association of American, 1 Madison Ave., N. Y. The Playground, Vol 6, No. 7, October, 1912. Special number on Rural Recreation and the Church. Published by the Playground and Recreation Association of America, 1 Madison Ave., N. Y. 254 RURAL SOCIOLOGY The Playground, Vol. 8. The Rural World at Pky, pp. 379-393, 1914-1915. Waugh, F. A. Rural Improvement. Orange Judd Co., N. Y., 1914. Watrous, Richard B. Civic Art and Country Life. Annals, 40 : 191- 200. Wilson, Mrs. E. B. Iowa's Children and Communities at Play. Dept. of Public Instruction, Des Moines, 1916. CHAPTER X COMMUNICATION AND TRANSPORTATION THE FUTURE OF GOOD ROADS IN STATE AND NATION 1 EDWIN A. STEVENS IN no country has the growth of the highway problem in im- portance and in difficulties been greater than in the United States, and in none does it seem likely to -be greater in the future. Our motor- vehicle registry is already the largest in the world. The effect of these industrial phenomena on our roads is worthy of most careful thought. The problem in its most simple and general statement is one of transportation. The cost of transporting one ton a mile at any given speed will divide itself naturally into two parts : first, the cost of providing and running the vehicle, in-eluding up-keep, fuel, and lubricants ; second, the cost of providing and maintaining the roadway in such shape that the sum of both parts of the cost of transportation shall be a minimum. The latter is the special province of highway ad- ministration. To discharge this duty, provision must be made for the future traffic. To do this intelligently we must form some idea of the traffic of to-day and of its past growth. The horse-drawn traffic is prac- tically unknown ; it will probably not show any material increase, though, in the minds of many authorities, it is not likely to de- crease. It is also less trying on our road surfaces. The following statistics as to automobile registration in ten States that have undertaken the systematic improvement of their roads affords us a means of foretelling what is to be expected within the next few years for the nation : i Adapted from Berliner's magazine 59: 181-190, Feb., 1916, copyright, 1916, by Charles Scribner's Sons. 255 256 RURAL SOCIOLOGY MOTOR-VEHICLE REGISTRATION AND POPULATION State 1911 1914 Esti- mated, 1915 Popula- tion, 1915 Inhabit ants per motor vehicle. 1915 * Motoi vehicles 1918 Motor vehicles 1919 Popula- tion, 1919 Inhabit- ants per motor vehicle, 1919 Mass. ... R. I Conn. . . New York N T 38,907 7,262 16.372 83.969 55,913 48,108 7 ^1' 4 020 45.788 42,615 77,246 13.530 32,790 168.428 70,910 125.189 20.238 13.984 122.504 145,992 99,000 15,600 39.000 222.000 91,500 180,000 33.000 22.000 184.000 190,000 3,700,000 618.000 1,235,000 10,300,000 2.960,000 8,500.000 1.350,000 2.180 000 5.100,000 6,100.000 37.4 39.6 31.6 46.4 32.4 47.2 40.9 99. 27.7 32.1 J39 193,497 30,595 84.902 457^924 154,870 393.972 78,146 72.228 417.400 389.135 250,800 42,000 105,419 600,000 192,000 414,485 104,353 94,100 511,500 478.450 3,889,607 648,964 1.307,163 10.833,795 3,936,091 8,936,091 1,395,405 2,255.036 5.335,543 6.400.473 15.5 15.5 12.4 18. 16.4 21.7 13.3 23.9 10.4 133 Jlfil Penn. . . Md Virginia Ohio Illinois . Totals 350,227 790,811 1.076,100 42,043.000 2,272,669 2.793.107 44.937,168 See Editor's note. t Average (Mr. Stevens' table brought the figures to 1915 only. The motor-vehicle registration for 1018 and 1019 is added from a recent count by the B. F. Coodrich Rubber Co., based on official figures from every State. It ex- cludes dealer and motorcycle registrations. The population by States is taken from the World Almanac for 1920. According to the Goodrich count the total motor-vehicle registrations for the United States for 1910 was 7,555,269, or one for every 14.2 inhabitants. This greatly exceeds Mr. Stevens' estimate. ED.) If the average life of a car be three years, it seems possible that by 1920 we shall have on our highways a total of not less than 6,000,000 motor-vehicles, or one for every twenty in- habitants. This is about three times our present registration. To care for this traffic we have in the United States about 2,125,000 miles of country roads, not counting streets. What mileage has been "improved" it is impossible to say, for the word has no standard meaning. We are probably safe in assuming that for a satisfactory system not less than 1,250,000 miles of road must still be improved. With the ever-growing traffic and with the consequent demand for better construction, the ultimate cost of this system will not fall short of $10,000,000,000, and its construction will probably cover a period of not less than forty years. These figures do not overstate the case. Many roads have been and will be built too narrow, too crooked, with excessive grades and inadequate pavements. These should be widened, straightened, regraded, and repaved. They will also have to be provided with bridges designed for the increasing weight of vehicles. However this may be, it seems safe to say that we have COMMUNICATION AND TRANSPORTATION 257 a big job on our hands, and that if we are to plan for its execution we must do so in a big way. Let us consider the full extent of the problem what we are now doing to solve it and what is needed to obtain good roads. Assuming for a moment that in 1920 we shall have 6,000,000 motor-vehicles and 6,000,000 teams using our roads, that the motors will average 200 days at thirty miles and the teams 180 days at fifteen miles, we have totals of 36,000,000,000 motor- vehicle miles and 16,200,000,000 team miles. The difference in cost of operation on an improved as against an unimproved road may be safely put at not less than six cents per mile for both motor and teams. On this basis we would have 52,200,000,000 vehicle miles at six cents, or $3,120,000,000 the total yearly saving. I need only allude to the other gains due to good roads the opening up of the country, the development of industries, the improvement of the conditions of agricultural life. These cannot be readily estimated in figures, but the value is certainly not less than the reduction in cost of haulage and probably ex- ceeds it manyfold. The importance of the interests involved would seem to war- rant the expense of scientific and businesslike administration. Such administration we lack ; we seem to have formed but a faint idea of our woful state of unpreparedness and of the seriousness of the results. Our present methods of road administration are inadequate. While most of the States have preserved the common-law doc- trine of the king's highway, the treatment accorded to our roads has not matched the dignity of their title. Generally, the roads, except in the case of city streets, are in the hands of some local body or of a turnpike company. The care they have received is such as might have been expected in a community descended from pioneer ancestry. The traditions still survive of the days when each man raised his own food, built his own house, and looked to no policeman to enforce his rights. Any man, in those days, was supposed to be able to build and keep a road, and this belief is by no means dead. It shows itself in the underlying idea of our road administration, the turning over to township committees, selectmen, or by whatever name they may be known, 258 RURAL SOCIOLOGY the management of the greater part of our road systems. In most of our States we have placed bridges under the care of somebody other than that in charge of the road. On this substructure many of the States have built, each in its own way to provide for our increasing highway traffic. The laws passed for this object may be grouped into two general classes, following the lead set by the two States that first .took up road improvement as a field for State activity, namely, New Jersey and Massachusetts. The former undertook to aid counties in the building of improved roads, leaving the care of the roads thus built to the county authorities ; Massachusetts, on the other hand, set herself to building and maintaining a system of State roads made up of the most important through lines of traffic. Both of these represent correct principles. The State should care for the important through lines. Local bodies should be encouraged to improve roads of secondary importance. Neither of these States, however, undertook to thoroughly provide for the proper care of all of its country roads, nor, as far as I know, has any other State. Nothing less than this will meet the need. Every public road should be insured such intelligent care as to furnish the best service of which it is capable. My own experience as a road official may be enlightening. A mechanical engineer by training, with scanty knowledge of road- work and even less experience in public office, I was appointed five years ago head of the New Jersey Road Department. The appointment, I believe, was considered a good one. I expected to find very simple engineering, an ill-organized repair system, and more or less * ' graft. ' ' I found the engineer- ing by no means simple, that proper reorganization of the repair system would require voluntary cooperation and acceptance of State control by the counties, many of which were jealous of each other and of the influence of the department. I found no legal evidence of "graft" and no reason for suspicion against the force under my control. This force had been formed and had worked under department heads not one of whom had any previous engineering experience ; it was personally well fitted for its work, but hardly large enough for its statutory duties and utterly insufficient for the work necessary to insure thoroughness. There was much duplication of work between the State and COMMUNICATION AND TRANSPORTATION 259 county forces and ill-located responsibility. While I cannot complain of any lack of good will, the work has been and is being done under conditions that exclude any high standard of attain- ment and with the knowledge that no one expects results to measure up to any such standard. I may be slow-witted. I.have had to waste much time in plan- ning how to get the work done under legislation both unreason- ably restrictive and often inconsistent and in learning to tie the red tape thereby required into the regulation bow-knots. During my term of office almost every one of our neighboring States has changed the head of its road department. This brings us to a most serious defect -of our road administration, namely, that the head, whether a commissioner or a board, is a political appointee, usually unskilled in road-work and frequently without any engineering training. Holding office for a term of years, subjected to great political pressure, and intrusted with wide powers, it would, indeed, be wonderful if these men did not frequently yield to considerations other than the best interests of our roads and err by dabbling in engineering matters. Instead of appreciation of the seriousness and the needs of the situation, one generally finds in our legislatures a faith in the efficacy of certain pet remedies and a leaning to numerous checks, safeguards, and investigations, the outgrowth of lack of con- fidence in the road administration, fruitful sources of delay, red tape, and waste, and godsends for the muckraker. I have said that European experience is of but limited value to us in the solution of our problem. The weight given in Europe to the administration of their roads is, however, in- structive. The French Republic has been the classic example of road administration. It compares with our ten States as follows, the French motor-vehicle figures being for the period before the great war : Road mileage Area Population Motor- vehicles France Ten States 357,000 457,000 207,000 261,000 40,000,000 42,000,000 122,000 1,070,000 In France all national roads and most of the departmental roads are under the care of the celebrated ''Fonts et Chausees" 260 RURAL SOCIOLOGY corps. This corps is the best and most thoroughly trained body of civil engineers in the world. Their men are especially trained for the work from boyhood, as are cadets and midshipmen. Their life-work is in the corps. Their instruction covers the engineering, the administrative detail, and the law referring to the subject. The standing of the corps personally and profes- sionally is of the highest. Contrast for a moment our conditions. There is no legal standard of qualifications for an engineer, least of all a highway engineer. The job is seldom permanent. There is but little confidence in the ability and but too often in the integrity of highway officials. This is hardly to be wondered at when we recall that we are trying to care for a fast-growing motor traffic, to-day sixteen times that of the French Republic, under the leadership of political appointees holding office for limited terms and working under ?aws that make efficiency impossible. To avoid any misunderstanding as to our highway engineers, let me, in this connection, bear witness to the devotion and ability of those with whom I have been thrown in contact. There are, of course, lamentable exceptions, but as a whole they are morally and technically of higher class than one would expect under the conditions. There is, however, little organization, no recognized standard of qualifications, and practically no inter- state cooperation. Road societies there are, but these are or- ganized to " boost" the cause of roads and only incidentally to afford technical training and interchange of data. The very evident cure for our present evils and the best pro- vision for the future is such legislation as will establish in each State a highway force that will command respect and confidence in its ability. We must then state our problem, and this, too, will generally require legislation. Even in the smallest and in the sparsely settled States the cost and importance of .the work will warrant thorough preparatory study. But little of this has been done. ~,Ve have tackled the job of improving our roads with an insouciance that would be almost laughable if its results were less ominous. Few, if any, States have any accurate idea of their country-road mileage, much less of its proper and economical development, and, I may add, practically none at all of the ultimate cost nor of the duration of the period of improve- COMMUNICATION AND TRANSPORTATION 261 ment. Yet all these can at least be approximately ascertained, and the public which pays the bill is entitled to the information. For this purpose we should lay out a road system for each State. Such a system will include roads of all classes. If national roads become a fact they will form a separate class. There will also be the main lines of intra-State traffic, then roads of secondary importance furnishing the principal feeder lines for the State highways and connecting towns of secondary im- portance, and, lastly, the lesser roads corresponding to the capil- laries in the system of blood circulation. Each of these classes will call for different features of design and for different types of paving. For our greatest roads it would seem that the best will be none too good, for the smallest our means will demand that we adopt the most economical construction. Without thorough preliminary study and planning we shall, beyond doubt, build roads, some insufficient for their loads and others more costly than their traffic will warrant. I may here point out that the permanent investment in a road is made up of the cost of the right of way and of grading. Drainage works and founda- tion courses may be or may not be permanent ; the same is true of bridges; but surfaces are never permanent. If, however, we secure enough land and grade it properly at the outset, our in- vestment to that extent is secure. Our legislation should extend to all country roads. Streets present another problem. Just as physically and commercially all roads in a State form part of one system, so the State must provide that they be administered under uniform laws and in coordination. The public has a right to expect and the State should provide that every road be so kept as to give the best service of which it is capable. There must be a strict, uniform, and scientific system of ac- counting and audit, including an accurate census of road traffic. The resulting data must be carefully analyzed to enable those in charge not only to make comparisons but also clearly to account for the discharge of the trust imposed on them. We must, in all cases, have such elasticity in statutory provi- sions as will cut the red tape down to a minimum. The importance of the work to be done will justify provisions that will make highway^ engineering a career that will attract 262 RURAL SOCIOLOGY and hold young men of ability and energy. Material of this character can be trained to high efficiency if politics be excluded, if promotion follow on proven fitness and discipline be rigidly enforced. Road-work calls for analytical study requiring the combination of experience, common sense, and technical training. It involves also, in the higher grades, difficult administrative work, which cannot be readily separated from the engineering and executive ability of no mean order. This always demands and must receive good pay. A high professional standard for such a force gives the members a pride in their organization and a confidence in its ability to do its work, without which it is useless to expect any full measure of success or of public trust. This latter, I repeat again, is essential to any satisfactory solution of our prob- lem. Without it the public will not insist on the exclusion of politics from road-work, and before they will so insist the people must know that their business is being handled by experts and honest men. The technical work to be performed by such a body should consist, in addition to the preliminary study needed for the laying out of road systems, of design, construction, and maintenance. "Safety first," of which we have heard much of late, needed but little consideration in the road design of the ante-automobile age. Any road was safe enough if it was good enough. Guard- rails on high embankments, avoidance of sharp turns at the foot of steep grades, and a little care at approaches to bridges were enough to make a road reasonably safe at the speed and weights for which they were designed, say ten miles an hour and about three tons. It is no wonder that they have become * ' death-traps ' ' when called on to carry traffic at forty miles with maximum loads of from twelve to fifteen tons. The solution of the guard-rail question is yet open. Any obstruction to the view within a distance of from 350 to 400 feet is highly dangerous. Curves on or at the lower end of steep grades, narrowness, excessive crown, unprotected ditches, badly placed trees or poles, and even the pipes often used to carry water across entrances, have become dangers that are taking a heavy toll of human life. The most apparent dangers on our highways are the crossings over railroad and trolley tracks at grade. The elimination of COMMUNICATION AND TRANSPORTATION 263 these death-traps should never be overlooked. The cost of this work will form no small part of our future highway disburse- ments. Even when elimination is impossible, much may be done to decrease danger at crossings. As to pavements, for minor roads this will always depend on the relative costs of locally available materials. Gravel, oyster- shells, and macadam will probably always be able to provide for a considerable mileage of the lesser roads. Macadam with a blanket coat of tar or asphalt, well maintained, will carry a con- siderable traffic, but only at a fairly high maintenance cost. For more important roads Portland cement concrete and bitumi- nous concretes seem the most promising solution. Block pave- ments, brick, wood, asphalt block, and granite on a concrete base will be required for the heaviest traffic and for such grades on bituminous concrete roads as may be found too steep for that material. Roads must be designed for the speed and weights that will be used on them. Whether there be a statutory speed limit or not, it is not seriously regarded and will in time probably dis- appear. Any prudent designer to-day will count on not less than forty miles. There is little use in providing a surface suited for such a speed without giving the corresponding widths and curvatures. Without knowledge of weights to be carried, bridge design is but guesswork. Pavements and foundation courses must be suited to the weights to be carried. These should be regulated by legislation uniform in all the States. The paved way for important roads should not be less than eighteen feet on tangents ; curves should have radii of not less than 1,000 feet with increased widths of paved surface. Grades -are a matter of both economy and safety; with Bituminous surfaces anything in excess of five per cent, becomes too slippery for horses ; automobiles also skid dangerously thereon. Many of the minor appurtenances of our roads deserve and should receive more thorough study than has generally been given them. Road signs, for example, should be legible from whatever side approached. Running beyond a sign before being able to read it destroys, to a great extent, its usefulness and is a source of actual danger. Dust in excessive quantities is not only a nuisance, but has become a serious danger. 264 RURAL SOCIOLOGY The correct placing of shade-trees and the selection of the species used are matters of importance. Trees must not be placed so near the driveway as to be dangerous. The same is true of telegraph-poles, sign-posts, etc. The military features of our roads have been all but entirely overlooked. A few years ago a request for the vie'ws and advice of the War Department met with a polite but entirely unenlight- ening answer. Strategically, roads must connect points of mili- tary importance. Tactically, they must be designed to carry necessary military traffic. In the light of the experience of the great war, this means that very heavy loads, guns of six and eight inch caliber, heavy motor-trucks, high-speed cars, cavalry and infantry must be accommodated. Less than three lines of traffic will hardly meet the requirements. Nothing less than thirty feet of graded width will do. Bridges must also be strengthened. It may well be that screening will be required. The designer must also carefully weigh the advantages of any proposed feature of design against its cost. He must bear in mind that the total road cost is divided into three parts : interest on the first cost; depreciation and up-keep, including the over- head charges due to administration, use of machinery, and, what is usually called the repair charge, the cost of the actual labor and materials used in repair. What he now has in most cases is the repair charge only and that without traffic data. This charge may be easily kept low by an expensive construction. It may well be that a low-priced road with comparatively high re- pair charge will be the cheapest solution. Yet, on the other hand, too cheap a construction is sure to prove wasteful. It can easily be imagined that the designer has ample field in which to show his ability. We have generally built good roads as far as construction work is concerned. We have probably -been a little too impatient for results and too easy-going to obtain all the accuracy in following a specification that we find abroad. Our inspection, too, in many cases, may have lacked in intelligence and thoroughness, but on the whole we have not done badly in this respect. The up-keep of our roads has, on the whole, been disappointing. There are, of course, brilliant exceptions. If we are to have good roads we must provide a system that will make good minute COMMUNICATION AND TRANSPORTATION 265 defects as soon as they appear. This cannot be done without constant and competent inspection. The best way to provide this service will vary with roads of different materials and subject to different traffic intensities. Whatever method, however, is adopted, the importance of accurate accounting for all mainten- ance expenditures will remain undiminished. Our task is such a huge one that for success we must have team- work. Our federal scheme of government is a hindrance in securing the interstate cooperation that the situation demands. It is not only in the planning of interstate lines of traffic and in securing uniform laws as to classification of vehicles and regula- tion of traffic that this need exists. We should have standardiza- tion of nomenclature so that, for instance, "improved road" will mean the same thing in Indiana and in New Jersey; standard system of road signs, standard methods of accounting, standard units of traffic and wear, and, in general, cooperation and co- ordination between our forty-eight State-road forces and the federal government. That this coordination and the leadership needed for any team- work can be supplied only by the general government is, to my mind, the unanswerable argument for federal aid. The gain by united and concerted effort will be greater than that due to any federal appropriation. The financial problem involved is by no means the least of the many road questions that we must settle. While building and after having finished the work, we shall have to keep up the roads already built. This will involve a tremendous outlay. The present total road repair charge in this country is unknown, but we do know that much of it is wasted on unintelligent work. A\ r e must evidently look to our sources of revenue. Benefits are conferred by road improvement on both the land-owner and the user of the road. The former pays through the ordinary tax levy. The latter pays a so-called license fee for his automobile only and nothing for his horses. It seems rational to look to the business on the roads for part of the cost of building and main- taining them. Enough has been said to outline roughly, indeed, the many and very serious problems suggested by a forecast of our road-work. 266 RURAL SOCIOLOGY The lesson to be drawn therefrom is the need of thorough or- ganization of our road forces and of careful preliminary study. The interests affected are among the most important to the wel- fare of the nation. The investment will be gigantic in size, but can be made to return a benefit far beyond its cost if we will handle it as a business proposition. If, on the other hand, we rush into work of unparalleled magnitude without adequate preparation, if we continue to intrust its execution to men un- skilled in the work, chosen mainly on account of past political services and lacking public confidence, and if we keep changing them as various parties may command popular pluralities, we shall pay the price of our folly. MITIGATING RURAL ISOLATION x JOHN MORRIS GILLETTE THE statement is often made that the great urban problem is that of congestion of population while the chief drawback to rural life consists in the isolation of families and people. It is held that life in cities is too compact while that in the country is characterized by too great an aloofness. Isolation is not solely a matter of spatial separation; the greater the distance persons are removed from one another the more intense the consequent social aloofness. On the contrary, isolation is in part a state of mind, one of the chief factors of which is a feeling of loneliness, and such a state frequently occurs among persons living amid dense urban populations. Perhaps the greatest hunger for human association and friendship is often to be found in the midst of the throngs of great cities. Neighboring in cities is not always or mostly with those who live next door or in the same block. The urbanite's closest friends may be blocks or miles removed, necessitating the occurrence of social exchanges at in- frequent intervals. Similarly the church and other institutions that are attended, the theater, the recreation place and the like, may be far distant, requiring a considerable journey to attend them. i Adapted from a Reprint from the Quarterly Journal of the University of North Dakota, Vol. VII, No. 2, University, January, 1917. COMMUNICATION AND TRANSPORTATION 267 Nevertheless, although there is danger of exaggerating the isolation obtaining in the country, the social aloofness that exists there is real, considerable, and serious. Grant to individuals living in cities friends and a standing in some circle or set of persons, and unquestionably opportunities for intercourse and amusement, culture and social service are not only much more numerous in cities than in country but in general the distance traveled to reach them is less; and perhaps it should be added that transportation and communication facilities are better. There are three proximate conditions which account for the rural social isolation existing in the United States; namely, spatial separation of families, fewness of social institutions, and what may be called the rural state of mind. These will be con- sidered for the purpose of evaluating the difficulty of overcoming or mitigating them. A fairly approximate perception of the degree of separation obtaining among persons and families in each of the nine geographical divisions of the nation may be gained by dividing the rural population by the appropriate division area. This is only approximately correct for rural density since, besides the rural territory, the total division area contains the urban area; and further the rural population includes that of towns and villages, or all segregated populations of less than 2,500 in- habitants each. The latter statement is undoubtedly of greater import than the former, creating the likelihood that the rural population density is somewhat, though not greatly, less than the accompanying figures indicate. The following table sums up the data: Population Families Division Division Rural Per Square Per Square Area Population Mile Miles New England 62,000 1,097,000 16 4 Middle Atlantic -100,000 . 5,593,000 56 T2.7 E. N. Central 246,000 8,633,000 35 8.1 W. N. Central 511,000 7,764,000 15 3.3 South Atlantic 260,000 9,103,000 34 6.8 E. S. Central 179,000 6,836,000 38 7.9 W. S. Central 430,000 6,827,000 16 3.2 Mountain 859,000 1,686,000 2 0.47 Vacific 318,000 1,810,000 6 1.4 (Abstract 13th census, pp. 29 and 60.) 268 RURAL SOCIOLOGY According to this table, four of the divisions have thirty-four or more persons or practically seven or more families per square mile, the Middle Atlantic having fifty-six persons and almost thirteen families per such area. Where there are eight families to the square mile they might be so located in that space that the homes need be only about one-fourth of a mile apart. What really occurs is that the homes are placed along adjacent lines of travel and lie comparatively near each other. In the case of three divisions, containing over three-tenths of the total rural population of the nation, there are from three to four families to the square mile, requiring a separation of homes of perhaps one-half mile or more. The Mountain and Pacific divisions con- tain about one-twelfth of the rural population and in these divi- sions the families must be on the average from a mile to over two miles removed from one another. In the typical rural community are to be found church and school generally, although there are many neighborhoods without churches. Farmers' clubs are developing rapidly but are not yet sufficiently numerous and universal to be considered typical of farm communities. But perhaps Grange, Society of Equity, the Union, or some such organization might well be included. This list which is liberal practically exhausts the list of institutions which rural neighborhoods commonly possess and enjoy. In the town-country communities (villages with the closely associated surrounding agricultural region) no doubt should also be in- cluded the lodge. The typical city community supports school, church, saloon (save in prohibition territory), lodge, play houses, dance halls, movies, pool halls, and kindred places. Besides these the shops, stores, factories, and streets bring individuals into fre- quent contact. Certainly institutional facilities for social inter- change in the typical urban neighborhood are far more abundant than in the typical farm community. Relative to their quality for purposes of social interchange the institutions of the city communities are likely to be superior. The average rural church is an anachronistic, semi-decadent affair. It typically comprises a one-room building where all activities must be accommodated. It practices what aptly has been called "ministerial vivisection," the distribution of a minister's services between two or more churches, with the prob- COMMUNICATION AND TRANSPORTATION 269 able consequence of being ministered to by a man of inferior training or ability. In consequence of these conditions, not to speak of others, its activities are few and listless. The typical country school is likewise a backward institution. It, too, is a small one-room affair, without facilities for diversified instruction, sustaining an ill-adapted course of study, with too few pupils to create competitive interest in class work or to sustain organized play. It is ungraded, demands a multiplicity of brief classes daily, and is taught by a poorly paid, poorly trained pedagog. In contrast with these the average city church and school appear to be very progressive and efficient institutions, and the other agencies found in urban neighborhoods but not in rural are of equally prepossessing character. Rural consciousness, or the form the rural social mind takes, is a large factor in the production of rural isolation. What may be phrased "passive rural-mindediiess ' ' operates as an efficient but indirect cause of such isolation. This form of consciousness consists in being satisfied with aloofness, paucity of social or- ganizations, dearth of contact and community activities, with the consequence that the individuals so conditioned do nothing and want to do nothing toward improvement. Of course those who are so minded are not aware of it any more than do the mass of people take cognizance of the social customs and modes of pro- cedure of the national, class, or local groups. Not all inhabitants of country districts are possessed by passive rural-mindedness. Some there are who are "urban minded," being discontented with rural life and having a strong desire to dwell in the city. Probably only the powerlessness to secure the financial means to carry out a successful removal stands in their way of joining the urban ranks. Again there is a state of consciousness which may be called "active rural-mindedness." Those who are actively rural minded dwell in the country because they wish to do so. Never- theless, they are intelligent regarding the deficiencies in rural community matters and positively desire and strive to remedy them. This body of citizens constitute the hope of the country- side. However it is likely that the passively-minded individuals are in the majority, thus making changes toward a better situa- tion difficult and slow. 270 RURAL SOCIOLOGY That rural social isolation is regarded as undesirable by coun- try people is attested by several sets of events to be mentioned without discussion: the flow of large numbers of persons from country to city ; the settlement of retired farmers in neighboring towns and villages; the frequent testimony of intelligent rural- ites to the irksomeness and the undesirability of the customary social poverty; and the response to the introduction of social facilities by practically every class of non-urban residents, in- cluding the group we have alluded to as the passively rural- minded. That the latter class respond is not inconsistent with calling them passively rural-minded, since they may take ad- vantage of privileges without participating in their establishment. Perhaps the most severe strain arising out of this situation is suffered by the women of the farm homestead, especially by the mother. Her sphere of practical action is within the confines of the house, she cannot meet the neighbors at the borders of the adjoining fields as city women may talk across lots, nor in the exchange of tools and work does she have the opportunity to con- verse as do the men of the farm, and her field of cooperative exchange is limited. Neither does she go to the neighboring town for marketing and repair purposes as often as the men. Further, her work is of a routine nature, lacking the variety and the occurrence of new situations that call for inventive talent which the activities of the outdoor workers involve. That farm women age much earlier in life than do the men is no doubt partly due to the greater absence of intellectual incitement. The problem of rural isolation has attracted much attention and naturally has brought forth a number of proposals for solu- tions and panaceas. One of the most short-sighted and brutal suggestions is what may be called "familism." It is asserted that the social activities and satisfactions of rural inhabitants inevitably must be limited to the sphere of the family, since that institution represents the scope of normal human association pos- sible to country districts. This proposal flies in the face of accomplished facts and is only a dogmatic generalization from a narrow range of data, It is doubtless true that the majority of rural inhabitants realize the larger portion of their associational life within the family and that many will do so for some time to come. But notwithstanding the fact that the family is a most COMMUNICATION AND TRANSPORTATION 271 worthy and indispensable institution and that it is destined to furnish much of the social contact for both rural and urban inhabitants in future, it must be said that it is too small, un- resourceful, and monotonous to supply complete associational satisfaction. Moreover, multitudes of country neighborhoods have established and now enjoy larger community organizations. The trend of the rural movement without question is toward the creation and. the adaptation of varied recreational and social facilities. Another proposition is that American farmers shall abandon their present system of widely distributed, separate homesteads and segregate themselves in some kind of central farm village. Various actual and ideal types of such communities present them- selves, some of which deserve attention. The European form of farm village is generally thought of when the proposal in question is considered. European farmers almost universally live in small segregated communities, proceed- ing from these during the daytime to prosecute their agriculture on the outlying farms. In America, also, are to be found a few types of agricultural village. In various sections of the United States immigrant Mennonites have established themselves in such communities, very largely reproducing here the customary Euro- pean prototype. The most indigenously American farm village is to be found among the Mormon settlements of the western portion of the United States and Canada. When the Mormons settled Utah they designated an agricultural community some- what peculiar to themselves. The Mormon settlers and recruits were to settle in centers, all of which were built from a common plant. Each village resident had a considerable plot of land surrounding his house, another plot of a few acres just outside the center, a still larger piece still farther removed, and might have more land still farther distant. The dwellings are char- acteristically arranged relative to each other to secure family privacy. A further important characteristic is that the church is the center of community interest and lies at the foundation of the Mormon farm village plan. Besides these existent types of agricultural villages, a strictly cooperative farm, village community has been urged. It is pro- posed that not only dairies and creameries, but also laundries, 272 RURAL SOCIOLOGY kitchens, dining halls, and all phases of domestic and distributive economic business should be cooperative. These plans of and proposals for farm villages possess both interest and value, nevertheless they are confronted by several obstacles and objections. First, the great majority of American farmers have much capital invested in houses, barns, other build- ings, orchards, and other home equipment on their separate allot- ments of land. To make a change to such a completely different system of living as the farm village represents would involve the destruction of much of the capital so invested and the incurring a large removal expense. The economic loss involved in the pro- posal is so heavy that we cannot expect seriously to see it executed. Second, to the average farmer it would seem a costly incon- venience to drive daily several miles to carry on his farm work. Where farms are small, as most of them are in Europe and to a less extent in the irrigable sections of the United States, the dis- tances to the outlying land are not great. But the average size of farms in the United States is 138 acres. Were the farm vil- lage large enough to be of any great social advantage it should contain probably 100 families. This being so, in a district com- posed of average sized farms, the more remote farms would be about four or five miles removed from a centrally located village. This would mean a daily drive of eight or ten miles, which is practically prohibitive because of the economic loss involved. Third, a small village of the usual type possesses questionable advantages, socially, when compared with open country com- munities. Without the fuller social life, intellectual interests, ideals, and resources of the larger urban aggregations, the petty gossip, jealousies, and bickerings are not conducive to increased satisfaction or a higher existence. The paucity of recreational and amusement facilities, the almost entire absence of those of a wholesome kind, especially for boys from ten to sixteen years of age, engenders idleness and the resorting to vicious gangs and forms of sport which are demoralizing. The average small vil- lage in the United States represents one of the most deadening and disheartening forms of community, and, as a problem, chal- lenges the serious attention of the American nation. The suggestion of a cooperative form of farm village is worthy COMMUNICATION AND TRANSPORTATION 273 of consideration. That the scheme is Utopian should not con- demn it in advance. Its real test is, can it overcome the diffi- culties just presented relative to farm villages in general ? In the case of the establishment of new agricultural communi- ties, especially in irrigation districts where farms are small, the cooperative proposal is most deserving of attention. Aside from these relatively infrequent situations, the heavy investment in separate farm plants and the remoteness of the majority of farms from the central villages would appear to make the pro- posal impracticable. In view of these considerations we may regard our present system of distributed and separate farm homesteads as perma- nent, and are forced to conclude that the mitigation of rural isola- tion must come from other directions. In this connection it is worthy of note that in agricultural Utah there is an observed tendency toward independent farm homes. From the top of the divide between Cache and Salt Lake valleys in Northern Utah it is seen that in the former valley, which was settled very early, there is an occasional homestead in the open country while in the northern portion of the former, a region settled more re- cently, separate farm homes appear to be the rule. Considerable may be expected from the improvement and ex- tension of the rural communicating system, including under this caption roads, rural delivery, automobiles, interurban trolleys, telephones, and periodical literature. Each of these agencies is making its contribution toward the establishment of a more ef- fective rural solidarity and also toward bringing country and urban districts into closer touch. Improved and extended roads are essential to the development of the economic interests of agriculture and are the indispensable foundation for all larger community organizations and activi- ties. The larger organizations which the improved rural church, the consolidated school, farmers' clubs, and recreational and community centers are demanding can materialize only as the highways are built to permit rapid and comfortable transit. The automobile and rural delivery are serviceable in creating larger contacts and in stimulating the building of a better high- way system. Where population density warrants the establish- ment of rural free delivery of mail, rural routes are assigned by 274 RURAL SOCIOLOGY the national government on condition that the routes to be used in carrying the mail should be put and kept in passable shape. Organizations and individuals interested in the extended use of the automobile are promoting both local and inter-community highway improvement. Since so many farmers have become owners of cars, they have the more heartily joined the move- ment for the establishment of good roads. The automobile quickens rural life by bringing families and communities into closer and more frequent contact. Distances which once took hours or days to compass by horse or horse- drawn vehicle, now are covered in a few minutes or hours. Could every farmer possess an automobile, the problem of es- tablishing larger and better rural institutions in considerable measure would be solved because transit would be speedy and easy and because the care of teams involved in travel by horse- drawn vehicles would be obviated. Rural free mail delivery and the circulating library are effec- tive agencies for reducing isolation. The former places within reach of out-of-town residents the possibility of daily contact with the world of events by means of the daily press ; makes pos- sible more frequent correspondence with friends and relatives; and helps cultivate a habitual perusal of periodical and library literature. In its turn the circulating library brings to neigh- borhoods which command its services the enlivening store of fiction, the inspiration of good literature, and the practical knowledge of the whole range of natural and social science. A definite local communitization of rural districts constitutes a further method of mitigating rural isolation. Communitiza- tion takes place to the degree to which the inhabitants of a par- ticular locality think and act together, the alternative, individ- ualization, being most often observed in the country, in that residents of such locality think and act as if they were only indi- viduals. It is highly desirable that people generally, and rural inhabitants especially, should cultivate a neighborhood outlook, appreciate the good results which flow from increased cooper- ation, and set about establishing the agencies for realizing the community spirit. COMMUNICATION AND TRANSPORTATION 275 SOCIAL SIGNIFICANCE OF THE AGRICULTURAL PRESS 1 J. CLYDE MARQUIS THE influence which the printed page has had upon agriculture cannot be definitely measured. The idea has been generally ac- cepted that practical and, especially, successful farming has un- til recently been conducted apart from the directions given in books. The disfavor with which the countryman who considers himself especially practical has regarded those who consult the written experiences of others in books has been too generally dwelt upon in discussions of the literature of agriculture. The influence of the printed page is particularly subtle. The casual reader often believes that he has received no benefit from an academic treatment of a topic, yet his subsequent methods are indisputable evidence that he has absorbed an idea and adopted the suggestions, even though he believes he has not. To say that the most important single influence for the improve- ment of agriculture has been the periodical press would be both trite and unnecessary, yet no discussion of the influence of the printed page upon agricultural methods would be complete did it not begin with this premise. A sketch of the development of agricultural literature is neces- sary to secure an adequate appreciation of its importance. Its beginnings are unknown, and there were probably treatises on practical agriculture in early periods of Chinese history of which we now have no record. There are only occasional glimpses of the development of the art of husbandry in the early history of man. These appear in Biblical literature and in Egyptian records and later become more evident in the writings of the Greeks and Romans. The first foundations of the literature of husbandry which may be said to support the present structure were laid by the Roman writers, and many of the fundamental propositions presented by them may still be accepted with trifling modifica- tions. The husbandmen of to-day would be benefited greatly by a thoughtful perusal of the advice of Cato and Columella. i Adapted from Annals of the Amer. Acad., 40: 158-162, March, 1912. 276 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Following the Eoman period there is a stretch of centuries until the time when the early English writers appear. Arthur Young has been mentioned as the forerunner of our modern agricultural writers, and he unquestionably set a standard which has been seldom equaled and rarely surpassed in descrip- tive and helpful writing on rural topics. The awakening which resulted from the entertaining works by Young was the begin- ning of the agricultural revival in England, and was also coin- cident with the beginning of modern agriculture in America. The friendly relations between Young and George Washington unquestionably had considerable to do with the popularity of the writings by the former in America. Among American pioneers were a few capable, foresighted men who appreciated the importance of permanent records in agri- culture, and their work is principally to be found in the pro- ceedings of the various agricultural societies then in the fore- front of the agricultural advance. Even before the opening of the nineteenth century there was a considerable volume of help- ful agricultural literature not only in proceedings of societies but in a few periodicals and in a number of excellent books. Following the opening of the new century the increase in printed matter relating to the farm and the field was steady but slow. Periodicals appeared and after more or less successful careers were absorbed, transformed or abandoned until the end of the first quarter of the century found very little substantial ad- vancement. Beginning about 1830 the quantity and the char- acter of books and journals on agriculture received a consider- able impetus. Capable men began to realize that an interchange of ideas was necessary. Books for farmers could no longer sat- isfy those who were interested in a given subject because of the distribution of the people over a wider area and the growing complexity of rural problems. The earlier journals were pub- lished and edited by men of ideals, backed by the courage of ac- complishment, who looked upon their journals as agencies for progress rather than mere commercial enterprises. They stood for certain reforms and improvements, and though sometimes radical and extreme in their methods, their purpose was on the whole to improve agriculture, which they unquestionably did. The three prime divisions of agricultural literature then, as COMMUNICATION AND TRANSPORTATION 277 to-day, were : First, the periodical ; second, the public and semi- public document, and third, the book, the three standing in this order as to numbers distributed. Periodicals reach a larger au- dience than either the proceedings of societies, some of which are private and others semi-public documents, or books which have a more limited circulation but perhaps a greater influence upon those who are actually reached. As a conclusion of this hasty glance at the development of agricultural literature, we find at the beginning of a new cen- tury that periodical literature is most highly developed and spe- cialized, and, in the opinion of many, commercialized to an ex- treme degree which must sooner or later result in the consolida- tion or transformation of many journals. With approximately five hundred periodicals devoted to one or many of the phases of agriculture and related topics, the field of periodical literature may be said to be crowded. These numerous periodicals send out literally millions of copies each week, and while a large pro- portion of the rank and file of rural people do not read a periodical regularly, all are touched directly or indirectly by the ideas thus distributed. Were they properly distributed, there would be several copies each month for each person engaged in agriculture in the entire country. This consistent dissemina- tion of literature, going on as it does without ceasing and with growing force, constitutes the greatest agency for agricultural improvement. Next in order of importance must be placed the public docu- ments. They have increased in numbers within the last decade with great rapidity, and within the past five years the quantity of reliable free literature for the man on the farm has been al- most doubled. There is little doubt that this increase will con- tinue for some time to come. The recognition by the daily news- paper of the importance of agriculture, and consequently the regular appearance of departments concerning such matters is one of the newest and most significant phases of this rapid in- crease of printed matter on farm topics. For the books on agriculture there is less to be said. The most valuable works now found in our libraries are the product of the last decade. The tendency for more popular and attrac- tive literature has unquestionably brought down the average 278 RURAL SOCIOLOGY quality of the books produced. The new book that will remain authentic for a decade is the exception, yet there are many books now near the end of their second decade of popularity that con- tinue to meet with a large demand. The character of the new works on agriculture is on the whole entirely helpful, since a new type of literature which is both interesting and instructive is certain to be evolved through the experience of the publishers. To pass to the social significance of this literature, its im- provement in quality and its increase in distribution and in influence are due to the appearance of a generation that is pre- pared to be benefited by it. As soon as men are trained to put human experience in rural affairs into forceful, convincing writ- ing, the reader will be able to secure more material aid from such writings. The facility with which reliable matter may be secured is the greatest point in favor of its development. We receive our new agricultural thoughts in our daily press along with the news of progress in other industries. The organiza- tion of press bureaus within the last few weeks by the agricul- tural colleges, state experiment stations, boards of agriculture and federal organizations is an important advance step in this direc- tion. Few items of particular significance in agriculture now escape the daily press, and whereas such news was previously written in a form designed to be of general interest, it is now prepared by a special writer often trained in agriculture, so that it is both interesting and accurate. Plans are in operation in several state experiment stations to send regularly to the local newspapers carefully prepared mat- ter designed to meet local needs. This newspaper matter on agriculture is closely followed by the dissemination of clearly written and attractive circulars and bulletins dealing with spe- cial topics. These appear either as reading courses or as separate publications just as the subjects are timely. Bulletins of this character are now being issued regularly by a large number of the leading experiment stations and boards of agriculture, and are being distributed through the mails, at farmers' meetings, banks, etc., until the numbers that are actually placed in the hands of working farmers aggregate millions of copies each year. The printed proceedings of state and local associations of stock- men, horticulturists, grain-growers, etc., are distributed to mem- COMMUNICATION AND TRANSPORTATION 279 bers and others at practically no cost to the recipient. A library comprising literally tons of material, most of it trustworthy, is being assembled by many farmers at absolutely no cost beyond the postage on their letters of request. The consumption of agri- cultural books has increased markedly during recent years. The extension of lecture courses into outlying districts has gained the attention of several people who as a consequence become inter- ested in following up these addresses by a careful study of the books written by the same men. Once the working farmer has a taste of the benefits which he can secure from a careful study of such literature he demands large quantities of printed matter. Much of the agricultural literature of the past decade has been local and specific in that it has dealt with particular prob- lems as they exist in a particular community, and has not been designed to broaden the farmer's social relations. It is note- worthy that a large percentage of the newer literature deals with his social relations; the periodical press as well as books and public documents now deal with social questions. The travel- ing library, which is growing rapidly in favor in rural communi- ties in many states, now has its quota of good books and bulletins dealing with agriculture. The shelves of the reading-rooms of all kinds of gathering places for country people now bear their burden of the new literature. While much of it falls far below the standards established by the best writers, the influence which it has is on the whole beneficial. Agricultural literature is on the average of as high a quality as the technical literature of any industry, and if judged with consideration of its quantity it perhaps exceeds in interest and helpfulness the average of the printed page of other industries. The present need is not so much more literature as a better interpretation of farm problems, both economic and social. There is a vast amount of repetition and generalization in pres- ent-day writings. New ideas and details are growing less fre- quent from day to day. In the mass of literature a signboard is needed to point the way for the uninitiated. This interpretation of the printed page is expected to be the next important ad- vance in the field of the literature of the farm. 280 RURAL SOCIOLOGY THE SOCIAL VALUE OF THE TELEPHONE * G. WALTER FISKE AMONG these modern blessings in the country home, one of the most significant is the telephone. A business necessity in the city, it is a great social asset in the rural home, like an additional member of the family circle. It used to be said, though often questioned, that farmers' wives on western farms furnished the largest quota of insane asylum inmates, because of the monotony and loneliness of their life. The tendency was especially notice- able in the case of Scandinavian immigrant women, accustomed in the old home to the farm hamlet with its community life. To-day the farmer's wife suffers no such isolation. To be sure the wizards of invention have not yet given us the teleblephone, by which the faces of distant friends can be made visible ; but the telephone brings to us that wonderfully personal element, the human voice, the best possible substitute for the personal pres- ence. Socially, the telephone is a priceless boon to the country home, especially for the women, who have been most affected by isolation in the past. They can now lighten the lonely hours by a chat with neighbors over household matters, or even have a neighborhood council, with five on the line, to settle some ques- tion of village scandal! All sorts of community doings are speedily passed from ear to ear. Details of social plans for church or grange are conveniently arranged by wire. Symp- toms are described by an anxious mother to a resourceful grand- mother and a remedy prescribed which will cure the baby before the horse could even be harnessed. Or at any hour of the day or night the doctor in the village can be quickly summoned and a critical hour saved, which means the saving of a precious life. On some country lines a general ring at six o'clock calls all who care to hear the daily market quotations ; and at noon the weather report for the day is issued. If the weather is not right, the gang of men coming from the village can be inter- cepted by 'phone. Or if the quotations are not satisfactory, a distant city can be called on the wire and the day's shipment i Adapted from "The Challenge of the Country," pp. 66-68. Association Press, New York, 1912. COMMUNICATION AND TRANSPORTATION 281 sent to the highest bidder saving money, time, and miles of travel. All things considered the telephone is fully as valuable in the country as in the city and its development has been just as re- markable, especially in the Middle West where thousands of in- dependent rural lines have been extended in recent years, at very low expense. BIBLIOGRAPHY COMMUNICATION AND TRANSPORTATION Bing, Phil. Country Weekly. Applet on, N. Y., 1917. Morton, M. B. Agric. Press. Relation of the Press to Agriculture, in Proceedings 12th Annual Session, Middle Tenn. Farmers' Institute, Nashville, 1913. Thorpe, Merle. The Coming Newspaper, Holt, N. Y., 1915. University of Missouri Bui., Journalism Series, Columbia. The County Newspaper, No. 2, pp. 22-34, May, 1912. The Ideal Country Paper, July, 1914. Building a Circulation Methods and Ideals for Small Town News- papers, Powell, J. B., No. 6, Feb., 1914. The News in the County Paper, Ross, C. G., No. 4, March, 1913. Women in Country News Work, Dutter, Mrs. C. E., No. 5, pp. 21-22, May, 1913. Writing for Farmers, Shamel, C. A., No. 5, pp. 29-33, May, 1913. Circulating the Newspaper Among the Farmers, Rucker, Frank W., No. 20, pp. 3-9, Sept., 1919. Reminders for the Country Editor, Finn, Bernard, No. 11, pp. 31-33, May, 1915. Current Aericultural Journals. Cyclopedia Am. Agriculture, Bailey, IV: 78-87. Wallace, J. P. Journalism, How the Farm Paper Helps the Implement Dealer, Wallace's Farmer, 41; 234, 235, Feb. 11, 1916. ROADS Campbell, A. W. System of road building in Canada. Modern Road Building;, First Report of Congress of American Road Builders, Seattle, Wash., 1909, p. 55. Carney, Mabel. Roads and the Road Problem. Country Life and the Country School, pp. 108-133. Row, Chicago, 1912. Flagg, Ernest. Road Building and Maintenance and Examples of French and English methods. Century 79 : 139-144. November, 1909. Gillette, John M. The Improvement of Transportation and Com- munication. In his Constructive Rural Sociology, pp. 110-116. Sturgis, N. Y., 1912. Gross, H. H. Highways and Civilization. Modern Road Builders. Report of 1st Congress of American Road Builders. Seattle, Wash., 1909, p. 210. ' 282 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Laut, Agnes C. Price We Pay for Bad Roads. Collier's, 42:14-15, July 17, 1909. Moore, W. H. The Social, Commercial and Economic Importance of the Road Subject. Circular 34, Office of Good Roads, Washington. Official Good Roads. Yearbook of the United States, 1912. Page, Logan Waller. Good Roads the Way to Progress. World's Work, 18: 11807-19, July, 1909. Roads and Canals, Cyclopedia of American Agriculture, IV: 320-8. Roads, Paths and Bridges. Sturgis, N. Y., 1912. Parker, Harold. The Good Roads Movement, Annals, 40 : 51-8, March 1912. Pennypacker, J. E. State Management of Public Roads; its Develop- ment and Trend. United States Department of Agriculture Year- book, pp. 211-26, 1914. Pope, Jessie E. Rural Communication, Bailey, Cyclopedia of Ameri- can Agriculture, IV : 312-320. Powers, E. L. History of Road Building in the United States. Mod- ern Road Building. Report of 1st Congress of American Road Builders, Seattle, 1909. Pratt, J. H. Good Roads Movement in the South. Annals, 35 : 105-13, January, 1910. Ravenel, S. W. RavenePs Road Primer for School Children. Mc- Clurg, Chicago, 1912. Shaler, Nathaniel S. American Highways. Century, N. Y., 1896. Sipe, Susan B. Good Roads Arbor Day. Suggestions for Its Ob- servance. U. S. Bureau of Education, Bulletin No. 26, 1913. Streets and Highways in Foreign Countries. Special Consular Re- ports, 1891, Vol. 3. U. S. Bureau of Foreign Commerce. Vogt, Paul L. Means of Communication and Rural Welfare. In his Introduction to Rural Sociology, Chapter IV. Appleton, N. Y., 1917. Waugh, F. A. Rural Improvement, pp. 36-58. Judd, N. Y., 1914. CHAPTER XI CORRECTIONAL AGRICULTURE AND RURAL POLICE A. CORRECTIONAL AGRICULTURE THE OUTDOOR TREATMENT OF CRIME * HARRIS R. COOLEY THERE is no distinct outcast class of offenders. The establish- ment of the outdoor or farm prison is one expression of this new attitude. It is a long step from the gloom and depression of the felon's cell to the sunlight and fresh air of the open field. The normal environment of the country tends quickly to reestablish a normal life. The open-air treatment is as helpful to the victim of vice and crime as to the victim of tuberculosis. In a number of the institutions of our country the outdoor methods have been tried with marked success. Dr. Leonard, Superintendent of the Ohio State Reformatory at Mansfield, has the spirit and attitude toward his young men which arouse in them a surprising sense of honor and fidelity. There are nearly a thousand prisoners, many of them committed for most serious offenses. A school of conduct or of ethics helps to maintain the moral atmosphere of the institutions. The trusted men enter into a formal bond with the superintendent. Out of eighteen hundred young, vigorous fellows who have been trusted to work out on the six-hundred-acre farm, only nine have violated their trust and run away. As one sees these men in the open, sunny fields, many of them without guards, doing faithfully their daily tasks under normal conditions, it is difficult to realize that a few years ago they would have toiled inside crowded, gloomy prisons with heavily barred windows. They themselves have constructed their shop buildings within the wall for the employ- 1 Adapted from the Outlook, Vol. 07: 403-8, Feb. 25, 1911. 283 284 RURAL SOCIOLOGY ment for winter months and stormy days, but these are as full of light and fresh air as a model factory. The institution im- presses you as a training-school with a helpful, hopeful attitude toward life. The Province of Ontario, under the direction of the Provin- cial Secretary, W. J. Hanna, is developing an outdoor prison at Guelph. The spirit of fellowship, cooperation, and confidence prevails. Some temporary buildings shelter the prisoners who work under the open sky, cultivating the soil, ditching, grading, and making roads. One of the Canadian pastors, who perhaps had been skeptical about the project, walked over the farm and saw the groups of men laboring in the fields. He said to me, "I was so moved by it that I went off by myself and cried." In his enthusiasm the head officer declares that "the prisoners have done a great work." With this attitude the Guelph Prison Farm will do much for the imprisoned, and still more for the citizenship of Ontario. In Cleveland we began the outdoor treatment by purchasing a group of farms ten miles from the city, and before any perma- nent buildings could be erected we tested the plan by taking "trusties" and other prisoners from the City Workhouse and lodging them in the old scattered farm-houses. Our farmer neighbors were frightened. Our friends prophesied that the prisoners would all run away. The plan worked. Most of the men completed their sentences, giving faithful and willing ser- vice. We ourselves have been surprised at times at the results of some of our ventures with these men. The confidence placed in them, the useful work in garden and field, the tonic of the sky and trees, developed a new sense of honor and a common senti- ment that it is a mean and cowardly thing to ' ' take a sneak from the farm." In four years five thousand prisoners served time on the Correction Farm. These men have worked at excavating for our buildings, quarrying and crushing stone, grading, road-mak- ing, under-draining the land, clearing dead timber from the forest, and doing general farm labor. They have had better food, for they have raised it themselves. The officers in charge of the working groups of laborers have been really foremen rather than typical prison guards. The purpose has been not CORRECTIONAL AGRICULTURE 285 simply to locate the institution in the country, but to have a great estate as a basis for unlimited useful employment, and also as a means of controlling and shaping a large environment. The Correction Farm is part of a great tract of nearly two thou- sand acres, or more than three square miles, on which are the Tuberculosis group, the Almshouse group, and also an extensive municipal cemetery to be graded and developed by prison labor. The area is so large and diversified that the Almshouse group is a mile and a half from the Correction group, and two hundred feet higher. Each of the four divisions is distinct on its own five hundred acres, yet out on the broad fields and in the light, airy shops of the Correction buildings every prisoner can be used at his best in the raising of food and the making of all those things which will add to the life and comfort of them- selves and the other unfortunates who are the residents of the Farms. A visiting judge said to me, "It is so fine out here, I should be afraid some of these prisoners would want to stay." Near by a group of men were shoveling dirt into a grading wagon. I said to him: "Judge, you see those men at work; they are drinking an abundance of pure water, they eat heartily, they sleep well. They say to themselves, 'This is not "made work," this is real, genuine work. Free men right over there are getting a dollar and a half a day for doing this/ The old prison cell, the food, the confinement of their labor, tended to depress them and to make them hopeless. This treatment quickly brings them to themselves and, arouses the normal man. There is a psycholog- ical element, which you have not thought of and which we did not fully foresee, which makes these men more anxious to go back and again take their places in society and industry. At the expiration of their sentences they go out without the prison pallor, stronger in the face of temptation, and ready at once to do a full day 's work. ' ' For the friendless prisoners when released a Brotherhood Home Club grew up in the city, largely through the efforts and support of the men themselves. The purpose of the Brotherhood is to find them employment and to provide for them a comfortable place in which to live until their first pay day. That the colony movement is the outgrowth of a common feel- 286 RURAL SOCIOLOGY ing and attitude is manifest from the fact of its springing up under varying conditions in different countries. In 1892 the Belgian Government began the organization of Merxplas in a barren and desolate region twenty-five miles from Antwerp. This is a penal colony established primarily for vagrants, but which receives offenders with sentences as long as seven years. There are at present about five thousand prisoners. The grounds are laid out on a broad, general plan. The men have con- structed the buildings, including a fine church. They take pride in caring for the surrounding lawns, the trees and flowers, the gardens and orchards. The group is in the midst of a great tract of cultivated fields, green pastures, and planted pine for- ests. Director Stroobant estimates the present value of the estate at a million dollars. To develop all of this out of the naked, barren land must awaken interest and hope in the hearts of many of the laborers. Those who had special tasks in the care of the stock seemed to feel an ownership in the horses and cattle. One prodigal son showed us a young pig which he had in his arms. With a small military guard as a reserve, these five thousand irregulars and unfortunates are controlled and directed by a staff of only eighty wardens. Some of the better prisoners as- sist in the supervision of the work. The most serious offenders are confined in buildings with large interior courts. They are thus held more securely, and also kept from direct association with the others. Their open courts, however, furnish oppor- tunity for much outdoor life and labor. In addition to work on the farm, other industries are carried on, such as brick and tile making, wood-working, mat, boot and shoe making, weaving, and tailoring. The men receive small wages, a part of which is paid in colony money, which they can spend. The balance is paid to them on their discharge. As one sees the multitude of men, quiet arid orderly, going to their va- ious places of employment, he is convinced that it is possible to conduct even a great centralized prison on the general colony plan. In many ways the model prison farm of Europe is Witzwill. It is on a mountain-girt plain about thirty miles west of Berne, Switzerland. The great tract of two thousand acres, which for- CORRECTIONAL AGRICULTURE 287 merly was wet, boggy, and known as the great Moss, has been, by draining and cultivation, transformed into a beautiful and valuable estate. There are two hundred and fifty prisoners, with sentences of from two months to five years. The men themselves have constructed the Swiss buildings, the barns, workshops, dor- mitories, and dwellings. They seem fond of working with the animals. With the oxen and heavy wagons, they came trudg- ing in from the harvest-fields for their noonday rest. They have fifty horses and seven hundred head of cattle. Accompanied by twelve of the prisoners, the young stock had been sent for the summer months to the pastures of the higher mountains. They sell butter, cheese, and vegetables, but all manufactured goods are for the institution or the State. The spirit of confidence and democracy is manifest. The guards or foremen were washing up for dinner along with the other men. The children of the employees were playing about. The Superintendent, Mr. Kellerhals, who has been with the farm from the beginning, said to us, "Yes, these men, when well dressed, look just like the people outside." About one-half turn out well, one-fourth are doubtful, and one-fourth come back. In a year only three had run away. In the hospital we found clean beds with outlook on the gar- den and pastures. The windows were open and the fresh moun- tain air was blowing in, but there were no patients in this out- door prison ward. It stood out in marked contrast to many of our own institutions, which by their construction and environ- ment are the breeding-places of tuberculosis and other physical and moral diseases. Recent research has brought to light the fact that the mortality from tuberculosis among our own pris- oners is three times as great as in our general population. Germany is making extensive use of the farm colony method in dealing with vagrancy and minor misdemeanors. At the Labor House of Rummelsburg, near Berlin, out of two thousand prisoners, one thousand were working outside on the sewage farms owned by the municipality. In France, Holland, Hun- gary, and Italy the Government has made successful experiments with the colony system for the treatment of offenders. The testi- mony is that it is less expensive for the State and much better for the health and reformation of the prisoners. 288 RURAL SOCIOLOGY The reflex influence on society of more rational and humane treatment of its erring members is the larger part of this bene- ficence. For its own sake society cannot afford to be cruel and brutal to its meanest and most unworthy member. Russia is to reap a more bitter harvest than her exiles. Love your enemies is a good social law. If we lift society from the bottom, we all move upward together. We thus rise not to decline and fall. To be helpful to ''one of the least" who is in prison is not sim- ply a religious sentiment ; it indicates the only method of social development which will conserve and make permanent the achievements of our civilization. OUTDOOR WORK FOR PRISONERS 1 THOMAS J. TYNAN, WARDEN, COLORADO STATE PENITENTIARY I THINK the ideal work for convicts is outdoor work, prefer- ably farm work, which puts them back on the soil and takes them away from the cities and their temptations. I believe every state should have large farms whereon they might work their prisoners with profit to the state and the men as well. Men who work in the open air become strong physically and it is much easier to reform a strong healthy man, than a poor weakling, who has not proper balance. When men are taught farm work, they can easily obtain positions on farms after their release, where they are as a rule kindly treated and where they will have some social standing, which is an impossibility in the crowded cities. By the use of convict labor on the roads the taxpayers have been more than reimbursed by the value of the roads built. This labor does not enter into competition with free labor, as these roads could not otherwise have been built on account of the expense. The counties pay for the maintenance of the camps in which the men are worked, but the men are in charge of overseers from the prison, who thoroughly understand the handling of this class of labor and the building of roads. Our report will show you the immense saving in this way of road building, and the state is thus acquiring hundreds of miles of good roads, which i Adapted from Report of Convict Labor Commission, State of Con- necticut, Public Document Special, Hartford, Conn. CORRECTIONAL AGRICULTURE 289 could not otherwise have been built. We expect to more than double our mileage during this present period and also to double the value of our farm products. THE PRISON FARM 1 WM. J. HOMER WAEDEN, GREAT MEADOW PRISON, COMSTOCK, N. Y. I AM much in favor of the plan in operation here, i.e., a number of farms, or a farm connected with each prison as they are es- tablished. I believe there should be some shops maintained in which, perhaps, certain men, though well behaved and amenable to discipline and absolutely to be trusted, should be retained throughout the extent of their sentences, because there are a cer- tain number of men in every prison population who have come from the cities, have been in factory work all their lives, and in order to support their families will have to return to factory life on release. To take such men for a year or two and put them on the farm would not make farmers of them but would spoil a factory hand. But with these exceptions, I think all those who show themselves fit for it, should be sent to farms where they may gain strength of body and cleanliness of mind which farm work seems to bring to men, that they may be able to go back to liberty stronger and better men than they were on entering prison. HEALTH ON PRISON FARMS 1 W. O. MURRAY CHAIRMAN, BOARD OF PRISON COMMISSION WE employ the greater part of our labor on farms. The State owns eight farms, aggregating about 32,000 acres, and we have four plantations rented or leased, aggregating about 18,000 acres, i Adapted from Report of Convict Labor Commission, State of Con- necticut, Public Document Special, Hartford, Conn. 290 RURAL SOCIOLOGY making in all about 50,000 acres. The land actually in cultiva- tion on these farms in the aggregate amounts to about 46,000 acres. We employ in the cultivation of these farms forces rang- ing from 2,800 to 3,500 convicts. A small farm is located in an isolated section, separate from the male convicts, and it is gratifying to state that they have been nearly self-sustaining. We also have another farm near Huntsville Prison owned by the State where we have segregated the tubercular and trachoma- tous convicts. Also upon this farm we have what we call the "Old Soldiers' Home," where we keep and care for the old and decrepit convicts of both the Confederate and Union forces. This has proven to be rather an expensive department of our Prison System. However, we have the satisfaction of having a remarkable record with reference to the deaths caused by tuber- culosis in this System. Out of a prison population averaging something over 4,000 convicts last year we had only seven deaths from tuberculosis, and it is my candid opinion that if the jails of the State could be put in a sanitary condition, such that the convicts would not contract tuberculosis before being trans- ferred to the penitentiary, it would be but a few years until we would have eradicated tuberculosis from the Prison System, or at least the ratio of tuberculosis among the convicts would be a negligible quantity in the System. IN THE HEALING LAP OF MOTHER EARTH * WINTHROP D. LANE THE Indiana Village for Epileptics, opened eight years ago and just coming to full development, comprises 1,246 rich acres about two miles north of Newcastle and forty-five miles from Indianapolis. It lies in a country of rolling farm land that rises and falls through an altitude of 100 feet or more. Old Indian mounds dot the landscape and frequent groves of walnut, ash, maple, oak and poplar help to break the view. The visitor for the first time will not know when he reaches the village. No walls enclose it, no impressive architecture bor- i Adapted from the Survey, Vol. 35: 373-380, Jan., 1916. CORRECTIONAL AGRICULTURE 291 rowed from the monasteries of another age stamp it as an "asylum." It is just another farm. Groups of attractive, two- story brick buildings, where patients live, eat and sleep, lie back from the road, but even these are more than likely to be passed without notice. "The scientific treatment, education, employment and custody of epileptics," says the law, shall be the object of this farm community. Translated, this means that here the epileptics of the state may lead as nearly as possible the normal life of farm- ers. Those for whom most can be done educationally are given the preference; purely custodial cases and persons violently in- sane are not received, though the law does not prohibit them. Inmates do not have to work quite so hard as most farmers, for they are the wards, not the servants of the state. Nor can they come and go entirely as they please, for epilepsy is usually accompanied by mental defectiveness and supervision is there- fore necessary. This supervision may amount to no more than being constantly within sight of other inmates, for epileptics dis- play the same fellow-feeling and care for one another as the deaf. An epileptic who stands by and does nothing while his fellow has a seizure often finds himself an outcast for a time from his associates. Two hundred and thirty men and boys are now living in comfort on this farm. When the land has been fully improved and all buildings have been erected the village will be equipped to care for about 1,000 or 1,200. Women, it is hoped, will be admitted next year. They will live in separate buildings a mile from the men. The care of epileptics, like that of feeble-minded, is in the main an educational problem. A school is to be erected, and shops for various forms of industrial activity. The work of the farm also is given an educational value. There is almost no kind of farm labor in which the epileptics do not assist. They help in the growing of crops, the care of live stock and poultry, in building fences, in making and repairing roads, and in keeping the weeds down at the sides of the road. Sixteen epileptic teamsters, whose seizures come only at night or can be predicted beforehand, water, feed and bed their own horses. "I do not believe," declares Dr. W. C. Van Nuys, superintendent of the 292 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Village, "that I could get sixteen paid teamsters who would give us as little trouble in their work as these selected patients." The village for epileptics is more than, a place in which to keep busy. It is a place in which to enjoy some degree of indi- vidual life. The congregate plan of housing inmates, which brings them all together under one roof, has been abandoned, and instead patients are scattered about the farm in small groups, carefully selected to be as nearly homogeneous as pos- sible. When women are received the Blue River will be used as a natural division for the sexes. On each side three separate colonies will be built : one will be devoted to adults of the bet- ter class, one to children of the better class, and one to low grade adults and children. The colonies for the men are already partly built and occupied. The low grade adults and children, while in the same group, live apart from each other. Each colony has its own orchard, garden and small fruits, its own horses, pigs, chickens, ducks and turkeys. The living rooms are provided with phonographs, newspapers and maga- zines. Some of the inmates receive their own home papers. Leslie's Weekly, Judge and Life are the most popular of the magazines taken, and "Robinson Crusoe" is most in demand of the books. While Indiana is not the first state to make special provision for her epileptics, the movement is comparatively new. The first special public institution for epileptics was established in 1867 at Bielefeld, Germany. In 1886 a colony was opened in England by private philanthropy. Ohio opened its institution for both sane and insane epileptics at Gallipolis in 1892. From these be- ginnings the movement has grown rapidly. There are to-day fifty institutions in Germany having special provisions for epileptics, nine in England and several in Switzerland, Holland, Belgium, Australia and Canada. New York was the second state in this country to found an epileptic coloi^, her institution for sane epileptics at Sonyea being open in 1894. Massachusetts, New Jersey, Kansas, Mis- souri, Texas, Pennsylvania, Virginia, Connecticut, Illinois, Iowa, Michigan and Wisconsin have since been added to the list of states making special provision. CORRECTIONAL AGRICULTURE 293 Some of these states have been quick to see the advantage of the true farm village type of institution. Michigan acknowl- edges her debt to Indiana in the plan and arrangements of cot- tages on her 1,510 acre farm at Wahjamega, Tuscola county, bought in 1913. Dormitories, dining-room and day room oc- cupy the ground floor, and employees' quarters the second. An old two-story hotel on the site, was remodeled into a cottage for twenty- four patients. There are now living in cottages pro- vided out of the original appropriation of $200,000 for the estab- lishment of the institution, 155 patients. Illinois is laying out her village of 1,100 acres at Dixon on the small group plan. No buildings for inmates are to be more than two stories high, some of them being limited to one story. All buildings are to be of fireproof construction. Iowa is dis- tributing groups of cottages about her 1,144 acre farm. The buildings for patients, both hospitals and cottages, are one- story and of fireproof construction. The Indiana farm community for misdemeanants is a city hewn from the wilderness. Already within its first year this farm is actually emptying the jails of nearby counties. Indiana has long hated her jails. For a score of years in- vestigations, newspaper exposure, commission reports and all the artillery of denunciation availed nothing against these " agencies of vice and training schools of crime." Now, by the simple ex- pedient of providing a wholesome, bracing substitute, Indiana is literally starving her jails and work-houses out of existence. Some that heretofore aspired to a nightly population of eight or ten now find themselves caring for only two or three. If the besetting evil of jails is idleness, the outstanding virtue of this farm community is industry. Perhaps it was well that the institution got its start when the ground was covered with snow and there were only tents to live in. To work was the only way to be comfortable, and the spirit then engendered has been maintained. It is now kept before the minds of the pris- oners in many subtle ways. " Positively no loafing" read signs at a score of points, giving those who pass a sense of choice that can have but one psychological effect a desire not to exercise that choice. Perhaps it is the frontier character of the work that gives the 294 RURAL SOCIOLOGY air of industrious cooperation so noticeable in the present stage of the farm's development. Few people could be put at the task of building a town where none had been before and not be interested. Each prisoner can see the beginning and end of his own job, and its relation to the work of others. He can see a bustling community taking form before his own eyes and as a result of his own efforts. Work, under circumstances like these, is more than a mere means of passing time ; it is fascinating, con- structive, creative, and it has caught the slumbering interest of many a roving spirit whose previous acquaintance with the law was limited to iron bars and walled idleness. A large part of the work in walled prisons is either not found at all outside of these prisons or is monopolized by women or handicapped classes like the blind. It is not educative and adds little to the prisoner's wage-earning capacity. Nothing could be stronger than the contrast between this and the industrial op- portunities on Indiana's penal farm. The buildings, even to the cutting and sawing of much of the timber, have been erected by the prisoners. The sewer system is now being installed by pris- oners. Prisoners are building two and one-half miles of railway switch over rough land, doing the grading themselves. They are building their own roads. They are laying thirty miles of fence. They will install their own power plant. They are now mak- ing handles for all their implements and tools. This winter they will make brooms. They not only erected, entirely unaided, the toilet facilities in the dormitories, but installed the plumb- ing and shower-baths as well. Indiana is not the first to establish a penal farm. Such farms are common in Europe. There are three in this country besides Indiana's, one at Cleveland, Ohio, one at Kansas City, Kan., and one at Occoquan, Va. Indiana has learned that she cannot build congregate insti- tutions fast enough to take care of her insane. So she has changed her plans. She has decided to provide the tonic of farm life for all her insane who can profit by it. When the leg- islature of 1911 appropriated $75,000 for the purchase of such a colony, Governor Marshall and his advisers selected the East- ern Hospital for the parent institution. Unlike the villages for epileptics and the farm for misde- CORRECTIONAL AGRICULTURE 295 meanants, which are technically "villages," this tract is a real colony. It draws its population direct from the Eastern Hos- pital, instead of from the whole state, and it is administered through that institution. On the rich acres of Wayne Farms, as the colony has been christened, thirty patients of varying degrees of insanity are now living the simple life. Eleven occupy a remodeled farm dwelling called Cedar House; another group a remodeled school building called Maple House. An old tavern, built about 1840 for the convenience of immigrants to the West, is being made over and will house twenty-five more patients. Patients now at Wayne Farms do teaming, plowing, grass- cutting and similar occupations under little or no supervision. Some are put in charge of the farm machinery in the fields. On the day of my visit five patients were digging a cellar at Cedar House under an employed foreman. Others were hoeing beans. One sturdy workman stopped chopping wood long enough to urge us to collect for him some unpaid bills, fictions of his dis- eased mind. In Wisconsin districts containing one or more counties have established small agricultural communities for their insane, only the most acute cases being consigned to hospitals. This plan was worked out thirty-three years ago, and for the past eighteen years Wisconsin has kept abreast of the demands of her insane population for institutional care. The counties build the farm communities (asylums) and each county sending patients to one pays one-half the maintenance of its own charges, the state paying the other half. This is the best system of state care for the insane yet devised in this country. FARMING AS A CURE FOR THE INSANE 1 W. E. TAYLOR I AM fully convinced that a thoroughly equipped farm prop- erly conducted will contribute more to the cure of the insane i Adapted from National Conference of Charities and Corrections, 17:943-4, F. 23, 07. 296 RURAL SOCIOLOGY than any other one thing we may resort to. I base my asser- tion upon experience and experiments of ten years and the re- sults obtained are most gratifying. In order to obtain the best results, farming or gardening should be done in a strictly scientific manner and the patients should be partners in the work, and in a manner enjoy a part of the benefits ; that is, one or two acres should be attended by a few patients and a premium offered for the best products. The seed should be selected to suit the soil or the soil analyzed and fertilized to meet the requirements of the seed planted. The crops should be rotated scientifically to prevent an exhaus- tion of the nutriment in the soil. This should all be done under the direction of a thoroughly competent foreman, and the pa- tients should be taught and made to understand the purpose of analysis, fertilization and rotation, as well as how to plant and cultivate. Experiments in this line are carried on at this institution and we get splendid results. At a small cost for proper fertilizers our soil is made to yield three and four times more than previously raised with no more work or seed re- quired. Employment of any kind is always good, but when some in- centive is offered, the patient is stimulated to greater activity, and the old morbid concentration is changed and the mind under- goes a phenomenal transformation. Drudgery and routine will not accomplish the desired results any more than a wagon wheel running in the same track for months will obliterate a rut. Every state institution for the care of the insane should have at least one half acre of good tillable land for each patient. None but thoroughbred stock should be raised as they cost no more to feed and care for than the ordinary scrubs and the profits are much greater. The plan of allotting stock to patients as well as land, results in a rivalry, which brightens the patient's mind and in a short time restores him to his normal condition if his case is at all curable. Aside from the great curative benefit the patient receives, the institution is provided with an abundance of vegetables, which materially reduces the cost of maintenance. Again, the state farm should be conducted on a high scientific plan as an CORRECTIONAL AGRICULTURE 297 example to the community. Reliable and adaptable seed should be provided the neighboring farmers and they should be per- mitted to purchase at a nominal cost thoroughbred stock. JUVENILE DELINQUENCY IN RURAL NEW YORK 1 KATE HOLLADAY CLAGHORN A GENERAL impression is abroad that juvenile delinquency is peculiarly a problem of the cities and especially of the foreign population of the cities. In so far as this impression is based upon statistics of arraignments or commitments it must be veri- fied from some other source, because of the unfitness of such statistics to give adequate information about the problem. In cities many acts which are disregarded in the country districts are punishable by law: and in cities the standard of enforce- ment of law, especially against children, is much more rigorous, than in the country. The result is that the official record of rural juvenile delinquency is unduly low because it fails to in- clude much bad conduct that is passed over without court action and soon forgotten but which, if committed in the city, would bring the children concerned to the judgment of the court and add their names to the list of delinquents. We can say, however, from the facts brought to light, that there is a problem of juvenile delinquency in rural districts and that it is a serious one. During the investigation little com- munities were found which at first sight appeared to have no problem yet, after study, each yielded up a quota of "bad" children of various grades. The showing in the pages of the report may well bring doubt into the minds of readers who are under a delusion that their own neighborhoods are free from taint. Looking over the case histories and such summary figures as we are able to use, we find emerging distinctly two general types of character: The active, enterprising, intelligent child the born leader and the duller and more stupid child, the natural i "Juvenile Delinquency in Rural New York," U. S. Department of Labor, Children's Bureau, Washington, D. C., pp. 11, 15, 21-31, 40, 54; Bulletin Pub. No. 32. 298 RURAL SOCIOLOGY complement and accomplice and victim of the first type. Many instances of such partnerships will be seen in the case histories. The obviously defective child is in the minority. What have community influences to do with producing juvenile delinquency? First let us look at the general setting physical and social. Within the bounds of our definition of "rural" the separate communities studied had a considerable range of variation in character. One type is the little country village the trading center of a surrounding agricultural district. Its population is made up mainly of the native-born white of native parentage the old American stock and is decreasing rather than increas- ing because its young men and women, as fast as they grow up, are caught in the current flowing to the large towns and cities. Going out of the village center, and "on the hill" perhaps, we come upon little aggregations of people, not big enough for a village group nor yet wholly isolated on scattered farms. Such aggregations may gather about some crossroads or straggle along some secondary highway. Here the conditions described for the village are in most respects exaggerated for the worse. These little centers, too, are often the survival of better days, and there has been an even greater drain on the population than on that of the village. And this has resulted even more definitely in a survival of the least fit. As a net result the little isolated settlement is apt to be of a distinctly lower grade. There is less intelligence and activity ; the social standard is lower. Still farther away from the center we come to the isolated farm where many of our cases are found. This may be a good, pleas- ant, decent home, but its owners are so far away from social influences of any kind that they find it hard to take advantage of them. On the other hand, the isolated dwelling may be a tumble-down old shack to which have withdrawn a family group too inefficient to maintain themselves in an organized commun- ity, or too vicious to be tolerated there. Here we reach almost the negation of social life. Practically all good influences are wanting. This is such an extreme type, and the evil influences so obvious, that it was thought undesirable to devote much time to hunting out examples of it. It seemed better to lay emphasis on the normal community, the "country village" that even yet CORRECTIONAL AGRICULTURE 299 holds a large proportion of our native citizens, rather than on the degenerate "hill people" who are comparatively few in num- bers. But such families were not avoided when they came within the range of our study, and several instances will be found described. A step was also taken in the other direction into villages where there is a background of agricultural prosperity in the surrounding farming district, and into villages feeling the stimu- lus of industrial development and either growing into towns or showing the social effects that come from contact with such towns. Sometimes being in the neighborhood of the large town empha- sizes the "deadness" of the little town. The young people get away more easily to cheap amusements the moving pictures, the cheap theaters, the garish saloons, the evening promenade along the brightly lighted town thoroughfare and find their own vil- lage the duller by contrast. And they are more rapidly drained away permanently by the industrial opportunities nearer at hand. Industrial activity may strike the village itself. Small fac- tories start up, and a factory population is established. Foreign- ers begin to come in, and the original social homogeneity of the American country village is lost. It is interesting to note, how- ever, that foreigners appear to have been little involved in the delinquency found. Still another type is the country village which has felt the stimulus of industry by becoming the summer or suburban resi- dence of people who have achieved prosperity in the industrial centers. Here a very distinct social stratification is set up, in which "the natives" is a term in common use almost as patroniz- ing as * ' the foreigners, ' ' used in the cities. Such activity better schools, better churches, organized play for the building up of the social ideal. The danger here is that the improvements may not really take root in the community on which they are super- imposed. Next to take into account is the economic background. In gen- eral, in the communities studied it is that of the farm and of agriculture. The usual complaint in the average country district is that "farming does not pay." This means that the old- fashioned farms and farming of our early years are being dis- placed by the opening of more fertile districts, the introduction 300 RURAL SOCIOLOGY of more effective methods, requiring greater intelligence and more capital than the old-style farmer had. In one region studied the attempt is made to carry on farming in the old ways. Here a large proportion of the farmers are poor. Two-thirds of those who have records in the farm bureau have labor incomes varying from below $200 to $500 a year. Of this two-thirds, one-fourth make from $100 to $200, while one-fifth have no labor income at all. And in the hill districts the abandoned farms are more numerous than the cultivated. Such unfavorable economic conditions mean poor and insani- tary living conditions, overwork, lack of recreation, and diffi- culties in the way of making use of educational opportunity. Another region studied is, as a whole, rich and flourishing. Its population is increasing rapidly. Land values are constantly rising everywhere. It is, in fact, a land of milk and honey, of large, imposing farmhouses and enormous barns, of beautiful automobile highways winding their way between miles and miles of apple trees and peach trees and vineyards. Nearly every farmer owns an automobile, their boys go to college and their girls go to the various normal and training schools. There is a high level of comfortable living and progressive Americanism. The village population is largely made up of retired farmers, who have either leased their farms or sold them and come to the village to live. These villagers are often wealthy, owning several farms within a radius of five or six miles. There are high schools in the larger villages and the children of the well to do drive in from their farms in comfortable carriages drawn by sleek horses. But in this region, too, out from the villages, back from the fertile farms, will be found rocky, infertile districts where poverty-stricken tenant farmers find it hard to make a living. In all but one of the communities studied the farm and its work are seen to be a powerful influence in the child's life, espe- cially that of the boy. The boy living in a farming district is expected, as soon as he is big enough to hold a hoe, to do his part in the work of either his father 's or some one else 's farm. Even where farmers are prosperous and farming pays, the work the boy has to do is hard and lonesome. If the boy is at work on his father's farm, the father is in no hurry to pay him CORRECTIONAL AGRICULTURE 301 wages, wishes to keep up the parental control indefinitely, and the boy gets tired of it and wants to get away. Then somebody else's boy must be hired. And the farmer is not always considerate or reasonable in his treatment of him. In the cases studied are a number of instances where a boy has gone to work for a farmer or has been placed with one by some society or institution and has been badly overworked and misused. More than once the act of delinquency covered under the former charge "incorrigible" or "vagrant" consisted in running away from a farmer for whom the boy was working. It must not be concluded that in all these cases there was misuse of the boy, but it may be assumed from the evidence at hand in these instances and others that usually there was some bad condition from which the boy wished to get away. One of the cases was that of an eleven-year-old boy at Industry who, before his commitment to the institution, had been placed with a farmer, but was so abused by these foster parents that he was removed by the truant officer. An interview with the boy brought out the fact that the farm where he lived was seven miles from the village. When asked what he did to have a good time he replied that he "used to plow and drag and milk and go to see the boys evenings." The farmer used to whip him for poor work and also refused to buy the necessary school books for him. Besides being hard on the boy physically, farm work causes truancy, since there is a constant inducement to keep the boy out at harvest time and at spring planting to work. Farm work under prevailing conditions in the rural districts is, then, not only hard on the children while they are young, but affords little opportunity for the future. This evil, however, is becoming more and more clearly recog- nized, and plans of one kind and another are already being tried in many places for the betterment of farm conditions. The one active but disavowed rival to the church as a social center for old and young is the village tavern. In some cases the village itself is ' ' dry, ' ' but any one in search of refreshment can easily find the way to a neighboring town or village where rules are not so strict. The tavern is the catchall for every sort of amusement proscribed by the church and the 302 RURAL SOCIOLOGY stricter people of the town. Here dances may be given, here there may be a pool room or bowling alley, and here sometimes may be found rooms to let for immoral purposes. Here all the gossip of the neighborhood is interchanged ; and here, in the bar, pool room, or bowling alley, may be found legally or illegally numerous little boys who learn to drink, smoke, swear, steal, tell dirty stories, and amuse the adult crowd thereby. After so many years of agitation the large part drink plays in all social problems hardly needs to be stressed. Perhaps, after all, it should be stressed, because with the discovery of other sources of evil has come a tendency to minimize the one about which we have heard so much. But certainly the present investi- gation shows anew and decidedly the great harm done by drink, not only through tavern training of the young but also in making parents and guardians cruel or idle or inefficient, as found in case after case, and creating those bad home conditions which are most favorable to the development of juvenile delinquency. No account of social centers in a country district would be com- plete without mention of the village store. It is the clubhouse for men and boys who do not like to go to the length of haunting the village tavern ; or for all, in * ' dry ' ' villages where no tavern exists. Here neighborhood matters are discussed, personal af- fairs, politics, the latest scandal. Here it may happen that "racy" stories are told and matters of sex held up to indecent comment and ridicule. The store is to a startling extent the place where social ideals are formed and where the minds of the young are impregnated with the principles which later will govern their work and play. Here, too, a taste for gambling may be fostered. This is a form of recreation greatly under the ban of opinion in rural communi- ties, but as a matter of fact, quite frequently indulged in. It may be carried on in connection with games of various kinds pool, poker, and so on entered into spontaneously. But worthy of special note are cases mentioned in the investigator's report of petty gambling schemes, devised to play upon and encourage the gambling instinct, run in connection with the store. Such devices are familiar in city neighborhoods where they are with greater or less severity suppressed by the police. They are no doubt introduced into country districts in the process of organ- RURAL POLICE 303 ization of trade from some large center which is so characteristic a feature of economic life to-day. Beyond these main centers of social life there is little in the average rural district. Grange meetings, farmers' picnics, neigh- borhood parties occur, but they are few and far between. The great complaint of the young people in the country neighborhood is "nothing to do." This gap they try to fill with sex excitement and with riotous mischief that may end in larceny and burglary. The political unit the village as a whole should also be doing some true social work. One task peculiarly appropriate is the improvement of vocational opportunities. Towns and vil- lages are already active along this line in the formation of boards of trade and other organizations intended to build up business in the town. For the farmers, greater use of cooperative methods of marketing and extension of rural credits will help. The political unit is also responsible for its share in enacting and enforcing social legislation, and civic organization is needed to arouse community feeling along these lines. The evils of child labor, of truancy, of drink can be cured only when the' communi- ties themselves want them cured. Village and town boards and officials charged with the duty of giving poor relief also have a direct responsibility in the matter of juvenile delinquency. Lack of judgment in caring for a dependent family may result in the delinquency of the neglected children. The official who carries on such work as this should not only realize his responsibilities, but have some adequate train- ing in the principle underlying social work. B. BUBAL POLICE RURAL POLICE 1 CHARLES RICHMOND HENDERSON THE law is the law of the state. Municipal corporations have no original authority to enact legislation ; their ordinances cannot go beyond charter limitations. The enforcement of law, the * Adapted from Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, 40:230-233. March, 1912, 304 RURAL SOCIOLOGY punishment of crime, the prevention of dangerous acts are all functions of the commonwealth. And this with good reason : it would be intolerable to have an independent law-making au- thority set up within the territory of a state. No local com- munity can be permitted to become a nursery of criminals, a cave of Adullam serving as a resort for dangerous elements. Horse thieves and burglars will not restrict their malignant activity to the township of their residence. They may even spare their neighbors and live by spoiling persons at a distance. The criminals of a city go out to plunder rural banks and stores. The common interest does not stop at city lines. The common enemy must be caught where he can be overtaken. The recent extension of trolley lines into the country and the intro- duction of swift automobiles have widened the field for profes- sional burglars of cities. Against these trained villains the thin safes of country merchants and banks are mere tissue paper. The rural constabulary is no match for city bred criminals, skillful in the use of dynamite and electricity, and shrewd in studying the hours best adapted for their exploits. The sheriff at the county seat is a toy in the hands of a professional sneak thief or burglar. Even if he can spare time from collecting the fees which fall to him as spoils of his office, he has no natural or acquired qualifications as a detective ; he is both awkward and ignorant. Local agents of peace and justice have only a local knowledge of persons bent on crime, usually those who are most harmless, stupid inebriates, naughty boys whose mothers have neglected to spank them. Rural sheriffs and constables know nothing of sleek, well dressed, polite criminals who reside in com- fort in the city and put up at the best inn of the country town while planning to rob a bank or a merchant 's cash drawers. The big, burly sheriff is a baby in cunning when pitted against a wily safe-blower who from childhood has lived by his wicked wits and fooled professional detectives. The rural officials are made cow- ardly by their habits of life ; they know nothing of the daring which is characteristic of urban firemen and policemen who face death daily and never think of shrinking. A desperate fellow may dynamite fish, contrary to law, in a lake near a state uni- versity; but farmers and professors are afraid to inform, and county officials are too timid to arrest. State game wardens, RURAL POLICE 305 just because they move about on large areas, seem to have some influence on killing game out of season, but their organization leaves much to be desired. What is needed may be inferred from the statement of essential facts in the situation. We need a larger unit of police control ; under our political arrangements the governor is the natural head of all the forces of public safety. It would be a good beginning to clothe the chief magistrate of every commonwealth with au- thority to direct county sheriffs and to hold them to strict account. But a more important measure would be to furnish the governor with a complete and thoroughly organized corps of detectives, plain clothes men and mounted police, under a professionally trained chief responsible to the governor for methods and results. In the central office would be found an identification bureau, with Bertillon and finger print records, in close and regular corre- spondence with the federal bureau of identification; and this office would furnish descriptions at a moment's notice for any point in the state or elsewhere. The state police force of a state would cooperate with those of other states in matters of detection, arrest and extradition. Suspicious characters in villages and cities would be kept under espionage and plots would be discovered and thwarted. Of the necessary legal adjustments between municipal police, sheriffs and the state force this is not the place to write. Such adjustments could easily be made in accordance with precedents already established. The men of this country owe it to the wives and daughters of farmers to provide for them better protection. Self-appointed patrols are not enough, and the state ought not to leave private citizens to guard their own barns and homes. The insolence, the fierce passion and the dangerous brutality of certain types of negroes in the South could be effectually curbed by a guard of mounted police. It is the hope of immunity which nurses sexual passion into assault. Animal impulses meet with their best counter-stimulus and inhibition in the frequent and unexpected appearance of alert and omnipresent mounted policemen. Certain results may fairly be expected : In the war with crime it is essential to make the way of the transgressor as hard as possible, and, at the same time, open ways to honest industry. Wild animals disappear before the hunters of civilization. Gangs 306 RURAL SOCIOLOGY of criminals are like predatory animals and must be harried and watched until this mode of living becomes unendurable. Swift and sure justice begins with a trained corps of detectives. All admit that mobs and lyncnings are a disgrace and menace to our civilization. They arise out of prolonged neglect and freqeuent miscarriage of justice. They would diminish and disappear with a well disciplined and effective rural police. A LAND OF LAW AND ORDER * ELMER E. FERRIS THE development of a new, prosperous country attracts the adventurous as well -as the enterprising. Young unmarried men come West in large numbers. The restraints of former home life and social customs are absent. Under such circumstances it is easy to form habits of drinking and gambling and to fall into other forms of moral looseness. Personal safety and prop- erty rights are more or less insecure. Society tends toward law- lessness. Such, however, is not the case in Northwest Canada. Quite to the contrary, it is doubtful if there is any country where person and property are better protected. The Albertan farmer was right when he said that this is a country of law and order. One must travel through the country to appreciate it properly. One finds himself in an atmosphere of respect for law. The people feel safe. They assume that the law will be enforced. The amount of crime and disorder that comes under one's per- sonal notice is so small as to be negligible, and one sees com- paratively little of it in the newspapers at least crime occupies a relatively insignificant part of their space. The question then arises, What makes it so? What is there about the social organization and the underlying forces of this young civilization that gives it this distinctive feature? It is evident that in the thought of the farmer it was largely due to the efficiency of two institutions, the Royal Northwest Mounted Police and the courts. "When a man commits a crime here," i Adapted from the Outlook, Vol. 98, 685-690, July 22, 1911. RURAL POLICE 307 said he, ''these mounted police get after him, and they land him." Such is certainly the reputation of the Royal Northwest Mounted Police. It is an organization that is unique among world-famous " constabularies. It is a body of men numbering 651; composed of 51 officers and 600 men, commissioned officers, and constables, with 558 horses. They police a territory composed of the prov- inces of Alberta, Saskatchewan, and the extensive districts of Mackenzie and Keewatin, excluding, of course, the larger cities, which have their own constabulary. The most distant detach- ment is on the Arctic Ocean, 2,500 miles from headquarters at Regina a distance that requires two months to travel. The entire force is under the command of Commissioner A. B. Perry, with headquarters at Regina. The whole territory is divided up into eight districts, each of which is under the charge of a superintendent with headquarters respectively at different points in the two provinces. At each divisional point there are barracks, a jail, and complete equipment. There are many duties performed by the force in addition to what may be termed regular police duties. They maintain the common jails, escort all prison- ers to trial and those who are convicted to the penitentiary, attend upon all criminal courts, serve all criminal processes, escort luna- tics to the asylum, etc., etc. They also conduct important patrol expeditions through unsettled and unsurveyed regions, visit the settlers once a month in sparsely settled sections, make investiga- tions and report upon the condition of the natives, the state of immigration, the nature of the soil, crops, etc., in all outlying regions that are beginning to be settled up all this in addition to their regular police duties. One gets an idea of the nature and amount of work done in the detection and punishment of crime and the preservation of order from the report of Commissioner Perry ; it shows for eleven months of the year 1909 that 6,888 cases of crimes, misdemeanors, and petty offenses were handled by the force, and that convic- tions resulted in 5,849 cases, being 86 per cent, of cases tried. The special reports filed by the divisional superintendents, which go into the facts with more or less detail, are full of interesting cases showing the courage and esprit de corps of the force. 308 RURAL SOCIOLOGY PENNSYLVANIA STATE POLICE * THEODORE ROOSEVELT THE Pennsylvania State Police is a model of efficiency, a model of honesty, a model of absolute freedom from political contamina- tion. One of the great difficulties in our large States has been to secure an efficient policing of the rural sections. In communi- ties where there are still frontier conditions, such as Texas and Arizona, the need has been partially met by establishing bodies of rangers; but there is no other body so emphatically efficient for modern needs as the Pennsylvania State Police. I have seen them at work. I know personally numbers of the men in the ranks. I know some of the officers. I feel so strongly about them that the mere fact that a man is honorably discharged from this Force would make me at once, and without hesitation, employ him for any purpose needing courage, prowess, good judgment, loyalty, and entire trustworthiness. This is a good deal to say of any organization, and I say it without qualification of the Pennsylvania police. The force has been in existence only ten years. It has co- operated efficiently with the local authorities in detecting crime and apprehending criminals. It has efficiently protected the forests and the wild life of the State. It has been the most powerful instrument in enforcing law and order throughout the State. All appointments are made after the most careful mental and physical examination, and upon a thorough investigation of the moral character, and the past record, of the man. All promo- tions have been made strictly from the ranks. The drill is both mounted and dismounted. The men are capital riders, good shots, and as sound and strong in body and mind as in character. This is the force which Katherine Mayo describes in a volume so interesting, and from the standpoint of sound American citi- zenship, so valuable that it should be in every public library and 1 Adapted from the Introduction, by Theodore Roosevelt, to "Justice for All, the Story of the Pennsylvania State Police," by Katherine Mayo, pp. 8-11. G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York, (copyright Katherine Mayo, Bed- ford Hills, N. Y.) RURAL POLICE 309 every school library in the land. In the author's foreword the murder of gallant young Howell, and the complete breakdown of justice in reference thereto under our ordinary rural police system, makes one 's blood boil with anger at the folly and timid- ity of our people in tamely submitting to such hideous condi- tions, and gives us the keenest gratitude to the founder of the Pennsylvania State Police. This was a case of ordinary crime, in which the sheriff and county constable were paralyzed by fear of a band of gunmen. Other forms of crime are dealt with in connection with industrial disturbances. The author shows how until the State Police Force was established the State, in times of strikes, permitted the capitalists to furnish their own Coal and Iron Police, thus selling her police power to one of the con- tending parties, that of the vested interests. The author also shows how after the establishment of the Penn- sylvania State Police this intolerable condition was ended ; local demagogues and foolish or vicious professional labor leaders in their turn attacked the Pennsylvania State Police with the foul- est slander and mendacity, because it did impartial justice. The prime lesson for all true friends of labor to learn is that law and order must be impartially preserved by the State as a basis for securing justice through the State's action. Justice must be done ; but the first not only the first, but a vital first step to- wards realizing it must be action by the State, through its own agents, not by authority delegated to others, whereby lawless vio- lence is summarily stopped. The labor leader who attacks the Pennsylvania State Police because it enforces the law would, if successful in the long run, merely succeed in reentrenching in power the lawless capitalists who used the law-defying Coal and Iron Police. No political influence or other influence avails to get a single undesirable man on the Force, or to keep a man on the Force who has proved himself unfit. I am informed and I fully believe, that not a single appointment has ever been made for political reasons. The efficiency with which the Force does its duty is ex- traordinary. Any man who sees the troopers patrolling the country can tell from the very look of the men what invaluable allies they are to the cause of law and order. In the year 1915 the force made 3,027 arrests and secured 2,348 convictions 80 310 RURAL SOCIOLOGY per cent, of convictions. The men are so trained and schooled in the criminal laws of the State that they know just what evi- dence is necessary. They^deal admirably with riots. Perhaps there is nothing that they do better than the protection of women in sparsely populated neighborhoods. Small wonder that the criminal and disorderly classes dread them and eagerly hope for their disbanding! Year by year the efficiency of the force has increased and its usefulness has correspondingly increased. All good citizens in Pennsylvania should heartily support the Pennsylvania State Police. The sooner all our other States adopt similar systems, the better it will be for the cause of law and order, and for the upright administration of the laws in the interests of justice throughout the Union. CANADA'S ROYAL NORTH-WEST MOUNTED POLICE 1 AGNES DEAN CAMERON THE Royal North- West Mounted Police, a handful of men less than a thousand in number, maintain order over an extent of country as large as Continental Europe and do their work so well that life and property are safer on the banks of the Atha- basca and on Lesser Slave Lake than they are to-day in many crowded corners of London and Liverpool. How largely looms the individual in this vast land of Canada, this map that is half unrolled ! Men, real men, count for more here than they do in Old World crowded centers. This is the most wonderful body of mounted men in the world. Surely more individuality goes into the make-up of this force than into any other ; it is a combination of all sorts of men drawn together by the winds of heaven. Five years ago the roll-call of one division disclosed an ex-midshipman ; a son of the governor of a British colony ; a medical student from Dublin ; a grandson of a captain of the line : a Cambridge B.A. ; three ex-troopers of the Scots Greys; the brother of a Yorkshire baronet, and a goodly sprinkling of the ubiquitous Scots. For years a son of i Adapted from Littell's Living Age, 276: 658,659, March 8, 1913. RURAL POLICE 311 Charles Dickens did valiant service with this force, and has left behind him a book (as yet unpublished), "Seven Years Without Beer! " Far back in the year 1670 another body of men dominated Canada, the staunch Scottish servants and officers of the Ancient and Honorable Hudson's Bay Company whose character-mark for loyalty and fair dealing remains indelible on the early pages of the history of this land. The charter which was granted to them in the reign of Charles II had run for two hundred years and expired in 1870, leaving all Canada west of the Great Lakes in a condition of readjustment and unrest. Illicit whisky-dealers, horse-thieves, and smugglers poured into Western Canada from the United States to the south over the invisible and unguarded parallel of forty-nine degrees, and Canadian Indians and Canadian interests needed protection. This condition of affairs was the immediate cause of the forma- tion of the R. N. W. M. P. in the early seventies, the launching of the project and the forming of the force being the pet scheme of the then premier, Sir John A. Macdonald. The 300 charter-members of the Mounted Police had their work cut out for them in the early days on this far frontier where cupidity and lawlessness reigned and no law of God or man had previously been enforced north or south of this part of the inter- national boundary line. The profit to the American "wolfers" had been great and was measured not in dollars but largely in buffalo-robes and sometimes in squaws. The traders from the United States brought bad whisky and worse ammunition and fire-arms to the Canadian Indians and for their own gain en- couraged tribal wars and the stealing of horses. In the forty years of its existence the R. N. W. M. P. has closely identified itself with the growing history of Western Canada, being the greatest moral ally to every creative factor of the country's growth. BIBLIOGRAPHY CORRECTIONAL AGRICULTURE Cooley, H. R. Correction Farm of Cleveland. Annals, 46 : 92-96, March, 1913. Farm Colony: Our Experiment in Cleveland, Proceedings National 312 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Conference of Charities and Correction, 1912, pp. 191-195, 315 Plymouth Court, Chicago, 111. Elwood, Everett S. Mental defect in relation to alcohol with some notes on colonies for alcoholic offenders. Proceedings National Conference of Charities and Correction, 1914, pp. 306-314. Fernald, W. E. Massachusetts Farm Colony for the Feebleminded. Proceedings National Conference Charities and Correction, 1902, pp. 487-490. Goodyear, Anna F. Description of German and other labor Colonies, beneficient and penal, showing what we can do with our abundant land. Old Corner Book Store, Boston, 1899. Jackson, F. J. Farm Treatment of Misdemeanants. Proceedings Na- tional Conference of Charities and Correction, 1911, pp. 70-72. Royaard, A. Farms for the City Poor. Craftsman, 25 : 168-177, No- vember, 1913. Famous penitentiary sanatorium at Witzwil. Amer. Rev. of Re- views, 54 : 441-442, October, 1916. Haggard, Sir H. Rider. The Poor and the Land; being a report on the Salvation Army colonies in the United States and at Had- leigh, England, Avith scheme of national land settlement and an introduction, p. 157, Longmans, N. Y., 1905. Potts, C. S. The State Farm System in Texas. Proceedings National Conference of Charities and Correction, 1914, pp. 54-61. Scott, E. L. Municipal Correction Farms. American City, 15 : 623- 630, December, 1916. Whittaker, W. H. Industrial Farm. Proceedings National Confer- ence Charities and Correction, 1914, pp. 45-48. RURAL POLICE Cameron, A. D. Riders of the Plains. Living Age, 276:656-63, March 15, 1913. Ferriss, E. E. Land of Law and Order. Outlook, 98 : 685-93, July, 1911. Haydon, A. L. Riders of the Plains. Nation, 92:425-6, April 27, 1911. Henderson, C. R. Rural Police. Annals, 40:228-233, March, 1912. Lewis, C. F. The Tramp Problem. Annals, 40 : 217-28, March, 1912. Mayo, Katherine. Justice to All. The story of the Pennsylvania State Police. Putnam, N. Y., 1917. Mott, L. Day's Work in the Mounted Police. Outing, 48:96-100, April, 1906. Ogden, G. W. Watch on the Rio Grande. Everybody's, 25 : 353-65, September, 1911. State Constabulary. Nation, 98: 5-6, Jan., 1914. State Constabularies Needed. Outlook, 106 : 145-6, January 24, 1914. Thompson, H. C. Canadian Northwest Mounted Police. Outing, 32: 75-80, April, 1898. CHAPTEE XII A. THE BUBAL HOME WOMEN ON THE FARMS 1 HERBERT QUICK MY explorations of the souls of farmers, backed by my own life on a farm, and the lives my mother, sisters, aunts, cousins, and women neighbors lived, lead me to the conclusion that the " drift to the cities" has been largely a woman movement. I have found the men on farms much more contented and happy than the women. My mother wanted my father to leave the farm, and move to a college town where the children could have "a better chance. ' ' He did not accede to her wishes ; and one bit of spirit- ual drift was checked. But just to the degree that farmers have reached the plane of letting the wife and daughter vote on the future of the family, they have been pushed toward the city. Out on broad cattle-ranges I have found the men and boys filled with the traditional joy of open spaces and the freedom of spirit which goes with it ; but in many, many cases, their women were pining for neighbors, for domestic help, for pretty clothes, for schools, music, art, and the things tasted when the magazines came in. There is a movement for better things among the farmers' wives of the land. There is a new organization on an interna- tional scale. There are questioning and revolt and progress in the rural homes. This idea is finding recognition among them: that all the prizes of progress are no longer to be allowed to go to the man-life on the farm, while the woman-life is left to vegetate. I spent a day in a New England neighborhood recently, and at the sight of the old stone walls which divide field from field, iny prairie-bred back ached, and my fingers bled in spirit at the i Adapted from Good Housekeeping, Vol. 57: 426-36, Oct., 1913. 313 314 RURAL SOCIOLOGY thought of the awful labors of the farmers of old who dug those stones, carried them off the land, and aligned them in those old fences. But progress came along and emancipated the man. He found that it paid to abandon the stonefields and work the richer, kinder Western lands with machinery. He could make more money by the use of tools on which he rode. It became profitable to thresh by steam, harvest by horse-power, put the corn in the soil by machinery, bind the grain with twine and hoe with a horse- drawn machine. To handle manure with a fork does not pay when it can be spread by means of a machine. Potatoes are sliced, dropped, dug, cleaned, and elevated into wagons by ma- chines. Tomato plants, cabbage plants, and the like are planted by machines. The farmer has come to be a man who operates machines, and his life is made more interesting and easeful thereby. There is still a great deal of hard drudgery in his life, but progress and invention have been busy in relieving him of that dreadful bur- den under which our farming ancestors bowed, grunted, and sweated. The internal-combustion engine, while it has trans- formed the lives of so many city people through the motor-car, has become the chore-boy and handy-man of the farm. But all these improvements have come into the life of the man on the farm because they have been profitable. I do not know of one which the American farmer has generally adopted merely because it gave him ease. He has not spared himself. He has been emancipated in large measure because the easier ways of doing things have promised better pay for his labor. And here is where the farm woman has not received a fair deal in the partnership. Not that she has been entirely without relief from the march of progress. The wind-mill, or the gas- engine which pumps water for the live stock, also saves her the back-breaking carry from the spring-house which sent our mothers to town invalids, or made their lives a burden. The invention of the cream-separator and the establishment of the creamery have freed woman from some of the drudgery of the old-fashioned dairy. The farm woman no longer makes cheese, because the cheese- factory can do it better and more cheaply. The introduction of labor-saving machinery has decreased the number of ravenous THE RURAL HOME 315 mouths which she must satiate with food. The steam-thresher, carrying its own cook and crew, saves her the labors of serving hordes of threshers. These things helped her because they were introduced as profit- able innovations, and not as woman-saving ones. More ameliora- ions of woman-life on the farm will come in for the same economic reason. In many parts of the country women milk the cows ; but the next development is sure to take the form of the general adoption of mechanical milkers. These machines are being thor- oughly tried out, and where twenty or more cows are kept in a herd, the milking-machines pay. Therefore they will be adopted ; and thereby both women and men will be able to lead easier and fuller lives of greater happiness on the farms. The present woman movement on the farm is toward. a higher plane than the economic plane. It is a demand for happiness and ease and the fruits of progress in the house, as well as out of it. In brief, the farm woman is now demanding, and receiving, bet- ter things in the order of their nearness to her daily life first, things in the house for her housekeeping; secondly, things in the house for her children's happier and fuller home life; and thirdly, things outside the house, in the neighborhood, for the better and fuller community life of herself, her children, her hus- band, and her neighbors. This is the outline of the rural uplift which is gathering force every day. Millions of farmers' wives do their own housework. The problem of domestic help is more difficult on the farm than in the city. They care for their children and their families average larger, I am sure, than do the families of city women. They have been emancipated to a large degree by the factory system from the task of making the clothes of their families; but they still make their own clothes, in the main, and much of the clothing of their families. They cook, cure meats, make sausages, bake their own bread and pastry, churn, make butter, tend gar- dens, and once in a while lend a hand in the haying, or other out-door work. The women of the cities complain that they have lost their economic usefulness in the household, and demand a share in the productive work of the world. No such wail ever arises from the women of the farm. Their hands are full of necessary and productive work from morning till night. 316 RURAL SOCIOLOGY . In a large measure this work is done without the modern aids to housework which city women possess. If a vote could be taken of the farmers ' wives of the nation as to the improvement in the house most generally needed, I think there can be no doubt that the referendum would be overwhelmingly to the effect that the first great need is running water in the house ! And this is the first concession to progress that farm women are getting. Mil- lions of them have no cisterns, and the simple first step toward a parity of women's work with men's is to put a cistern of soft water in commission, with a pump plying into a kitchen sink. The next thing is a water-back to the kitchen range, and a faucet of hot, water. These lead directly to a washing-machine for the laundry work. Not in words, but in deeds, and still more in thoughts, the in- sistent need of emancipation from drudgery is making itself felt in rural homes. Not in words, but in spirit, these things are appearing in the current thought of American rural life. It pays to make the women happy. It pays to emancipate slaves, and especially when those slaves are our wives, our mothers, our daughters. It pays in money, indirectly, if not directly; but whether or not it pays in money, it must be done. Any farm that can afford a silo can afford a bathroom and a septic-tank sewage-disposal system. Any farm that can afford a cream separator can afford a washing machine. Any farm that can support pumping and storage facilities for the live stock can afford running water, hot and cold, in the house. Any farm that can maintain a manure spreader can afford an acetylene, gaso- line, blaugas, or electric lighting system. Any farm that can afford self-feeders for the cattle can afford vacuum cleaners and electric labor-saving devices for the women. Any farm that can justify binders, silage-cutters, hay-forks, pumping engines, shred- ders, side-delivery rakes, corn harvesters, potato planters, and finely equipped barns can afford every modern convenience for making the home a good place for women to live, work, rear chil- dren, and develop in them the love for farm life. A corn-shredder or a silo costs more than an electric lighting system for the farm home a system which will give the women all the things that city women receive in the way of electric THE RURAL HOME 317 service. A modern hog-house, a thoroughly good set of poultry buildings, a concrete feeding floor, an improved equipment of stanchions for the dairy barn, or a good bull to head the herd, is not much, if any, less expensive than a system of water-works for the house, which places water under pressure in the bathroom, kitchen, and bedrooms. Let no one understand from what I say here that the condi- tions of work and living which weigh down upon millions of farm women, and which account for much of the prevailing discontent with farm life, have caused, or will result in, much of that sex revolt which is so much talked of in feminist circles all over the world. The farmer 's wife is not discontented with her husband, nor with his treatment of her. She may even in many cases throw the weight of her vote against the expenditures necessary to emancipate her from unnecessa^ drudgery. To her the mort- gage on the farm is a nightmare as baleful as it is to her husband. She knows her husband 's business, and is as solicitous as he is for management which will bring profits. But there is a woman here and a woman there who sees that the whole scheme of family life falls to ruin if the home suffers in comparison with homes of those friends and relatives who live on wages in the towns. She and her husband begin to realize that it does not pay to build the farm up into a profitable prop- erty which is despised by the very children for whom they are giving their lives. And they are studying statistics, too. They find that such facts as have been compiled by Dr. Otis, of Wis- consin, establish the fact that farms pay just in proportion to the amount of the farm value which is invested in equipment, rather than in mere land. And myriads of farmers are fore- warned by their wives' discontent with farm life that a crisis is approaching in which the decision will have to be made between removing the family to town or bringing the things of the town to the family. When, however, the tired and harassed farm wife comes to the point of asking herself whether it is worth while to stay on the farm, she thinks secondarily of the disadvantages of work and living which have frazzled her nerves and depressed her spirits. She thinks first of her children. That is the Eternal 318 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Mother. She finds that the children are, in most parts of the country, deprived of the school advantages and social advan- tages which the city gives even to the slum-dweller. The American farm women constitute our largest class of eco- nomically useful women. This is shown by the fact that mar- riage is regarded as a burden by the poor man in the city, but is almost a necessity for the poor man who owns and works a farm. The poultry products of the nation are worth as much as the cotton crop, exceed the wheat crop by four hundred millions of dollars yearly, and are worth more than the combined values of the oat, rye, barley, and potato crops. This enormous product, if lost to us, would be felt ruinously at once in increased cost of living. It must be credited mainly to the woman of the farm. For she it is who produces nine-tenths of the poultry products the fowls and eggs of the nation. Give her credit also for but- ter, cheese, vegetables, pickles, preserves, and a thousand other things. Allow her, too, her share in preparing the means for men who grow the rest of the food for us, and for keeping their houses. Remember also that she bears our sturdiest children while she helps to feed us all. And then ask yourself who has done any- thing for the farm woman? She has been left to shift for her- self, and must still do so. She still bakes her own bread; she still scrubs her own floors. She washes her own dishes ; she cans and preserves and dries her own fruit and vegetables. She has bent faithfully, dutifully, uncomplainingly over these appointed tasks while, to the rhythmic swing of its pounding machinery, the march of modernity has borne class after class out beyond her. On her rests the burden of emancipating herself from the things that weigh upon her life; and she is rising nobly to the task. There are clubs and societies already formed and forming. Thousands of farm women are making up their minds that their sisters who have abandoned the farm and farm life have deserted the field on which they should have fought and triumphed. They are studying, where they formerly succumbed ; and advanc- ing, where they formerly retreated. There is revolt in the air against counsels of submission and fatalistic retreat. The twen- tieth century is to see a renaissance of farm life. And the women THE RURAL HOME 319 who formerly led the fight are to head the counter-charge for better things on the farms. AN OPEN LETTER TO SECRETARY HOUSTON 1 FROM A FARMER'S WIFE MARY DOANE SHELBY I THINK that I must tell you first that country living is com- paratively new to me. To my four years of life on a farm I have a background of many years of city life, during which I did the strenuous things which women of leisure are apt to do to-day. In the midst of these activities a great doctor told my husband that he was in a bad way physically and must henceforward lead an out-of-doors life. It was decided that we should try farming. Health was the first consideration in the selection of our new home, but we must make the enterprise a paying investment. We chose a beautiful stock farm in the foothills of the Ozarks, in a sparsely settled neighborhood which had had no newcomers for years. The roads are poor. When crops fail, our neighbors accept the situation philosophically and keep their families in food by cutting timber and hewing railway ties. They are a simple people whose wants are easily satisfied. They know little of the outside world save as an adventurous son or daughter has left home to seek employment as a streetcar conductor or domestic servant. Their forebears have lived here for nearly a hundred years. While their opportunities for "book learning" have been incredibly meager, they come of such fine stock that the lack of a formal education serves to emphasize native ability. I feel very modest when I am with them. Within a radius of ten miles I am familiar with family con- ditions. Unless the mother is still a young woman, one finds from seven to sixteen children in each household. I have given the two extremes. I humbly confess that I fall below a fair city average in this regard. With this exception, and the fact that I have more material possessions, my problem and my neighbors' i Adapted from the Outlook, Vol. Ill, 923-5, Dec. 15, 1915. 320 RURAL SOCIOLOGY as women trying to make a home in a promising but undeveloped farming community are the same. What does every home-maker want primarily ? Health, and a chance at the higher life for her family an education for her children. The farmer's wife should find these things possible to attain. As a matter of fact, they are out of reach of most of the women of this neighborhood. The reason for this, I believe and here is a conclusion which surprised me is that the Government does not give the country woman the protection which the city woman receives and which she should have if she is to be the economic factor in the National life which she will become if she intelli- gently follows the path marked out for her by your Department. Of late, when I have been reading your bulletins on sanitation, Mr. Secretary, I have been reminded of Moses. He had probably given the Children of Israel such instruction with regard to matters pertaining to health before he realized the necessity of putting his farm bulletins into law. It is to remind you of this that I am writing you now. On a neighboring farm, where the barns are not far from the house, there is a large pile of stable manure. It has been stand- ing there for weeks. My neighbor's wife knows why she has so many flies; she also knows the menace to health. Her husband knows too. Your information has reached them. But it seems that at the present time there is no available field for this fertil- izer ; no man and team to haul it ; sometime it will be attended to ; just now "he" is busy with other work. The city man would be prevented by law from thus jeopardizing the health of those around him. The farmer is permitted to dally with the situation. Why could there not be rural health departments to insure sanitary conditions? The farmer and his family are said to be National assets. Why not protect them? The forest has its rangers; conservation of forces would suggest a like protection for farm folk. Another neighbor is permitted to let the drainage from his farm buildings pollute his water supply. Why not have build- ing restrictions for the farm ? At our annual "graveyard cleaning/' when the valley people meet at the burying-ground next the school-house, every family THE RURAL HOME 321 has its little mounds from which the father cuts the long grass and weeds, and over which the mother allows herself time for the luxury of tears. A conference with our overworked country doctors would reveal the many causes for a high death rate in naturally healthy regions. The city slogan "save the babies" might well be extended to the country. I will frankly confess that I had much more reason for confi- dence in the milk which I used to buy in bottles in the city than I have now that it comes from our own cows. I have obtained tolerable conditions through strikes and boycotts, refusing for days to accept milk until the stables were properly cleaned. That I have been successful in these hazardous domestic enter- prises is entirely due to my family's sense of humor, which has never yet failed me. I could not advise my neighbors to resort to my methods, although their need is greater than my own. I am sure the course pursued by Moses would be better for family tranquillity. It is a usual thing, when the summer exodus comes, for the newspapers and family physicians to warn city people of the probability of finding contaminated water and unsanitary con- ditions generally in the country. There seems to have been little thought of the helplessness of the women and children who are compelled to live (or die) in those regions. One must conclude from the universal warning that the problem is a National one, calling for new legislation and its enforcement. I have mentioned our roads. In certain stretches they are tragically, laughably, hysterically rocky. In other stretches they are punctuated with stumps. Few women would venture to drive a team over them for any distance, although the men, through practice in driving, are able to cover the rough miles at a remark- ably good gait. It is a matter of record that on the ground of bad roads alone the Government has so far refused our community free rural delivery, although there are many men who could easily qualify as carriers, covering the territory in the time required by the Government and serving ninety families three times a week. Don't you think, Mr. Secretary, that bad roads are a very good reason for having a free delivery of mail? Isn't it better for one responsible man to go over the road than that ninety families 322 RURAL SOCIOLOGY should have to send for their mail or go without? I am not speaking for Big Hawk Valley alone. In these stretches of country where money is not plentiful, and where the farmers and their wives are dependent upon their own physical exertions for everything necessary for living, Governmental and newspaper urging doesn't take us very far on our way toward good roads. When we shall have automobile roads we shall not need rural delivery. In the meantime we are paying our taxes and are really a part of the United States of America, although we should hardly realize it save for sentimental attachments. Since I have been living in Big Hawk Valley, Mr. Secretary, I have often wished for a vote, although it was far from my inten- tion to express my wish in this letter. But here, more than any region I have known, the ballot seems to be a subtle but insur- mountable barrier between me and all questions subject to a vote. Our women take part in the work of men. If necessary, they help take care of the live stock, gather wood, and work in the fields, but their sphere most emphatically does not include "med- dling ' ' with questions to be decided by men alone. I am reminded of this by a placard which is posted upon the door of the school-house. It calls attention of parents to the State law which requires six months ' yearly school attendance of every child of the required age. Owing to a curious knot which no one attempts to cut, the children of this neighborhood are getting only four months' schooling in a year, although we are paying taxes for an eight-month term. The situation has been brought about through a mistake in dis- tricting the county. Our district includes a near-by mountain and is of illegal length. Since the mountain children must be taught as well, or as poorly, as the valley children, and since neither the mountain, fathers nor the valley fathers are inclined to two wagon trips daily to take the children to school, two little school-houses were built, one in the valley, the other on the heights. One teacher divides the eight months ' term between the highlanders and the lowlanders. This year she serves the moun- tain folk from July through October. The valley children will attend school from October through January. I should be an ingrate, Mr. Secretary, if I closed without tell- ing you that I owe my vocational training as a farmer's wife THE RURAL HOME 323 almpst entirely to your Department. My text-books have been the Government bulletins. I have them bound, indexed, and catalogued. There is not a day ,when some one of the household does not refer to them. Yesterday I heard one of my aides, a neighbor's daughter, say to the other: "Marthy, if you take that jelly off now, you will be goin' right against the Gov- ernment ! ' ' WOMEN IN RURAL LIFE 1 SIR HORACE PLUNKETT IN the more intelligent scheme of the new country life, the economic position of woman is likely to be one of high importance. She enters largely into all three parts of our program better farming, better business, better living. In the development of higher farming, for instance, she is better fitted than the more muscular but less patient animal, man, to carry on with care that work of milk records, egg records, etc., which underlies the selection on scientific lines of the more productive strains of cattle and poultry. And this kind of work is wanted in the study not only of animal, but also of plant life. Again, in the sphere of better business, the housekeeping faculty of woman is an important asset, since a good system of farm- accounts is one of the most valuable aids to successful farming. But it is, of course, in the third part of our program, better living, that woman's greatest opportunity lies. The woman makes the home life of the Nation. But she desires also social life, and where she has the chance she develops it. Here it is that the establishment of the cooperative society, or union, gives an opening and a range of conditions in which the social useful- ness of woman makes itself quickly felt. I do not think I am laying too much stress on this matter, because the pleasures, the interests and duties of society, properly so called, that is, the state of living together on friendly terms with our neighbors, are always more central and important in the life of a woman than of a man. The man needs them, too, for without them he i Adapted from "The Rural Life Problem in the United States," pp. 139-141, Macmillan, N. Y., 1910. 324 RURAL SOCIOLOGY becomes a mere machine for making money ; but the woman, de- prived of them, tends to -become a mere drudge. THE PROBLEM OF THE CHANGING RURAL HOME * GEORGIA L. WHITE THE committee on Rural Home Making begs to submit the fol- lowing report of its plans for work for the coming year. In looking over the available material for a study of the problem of the rural home and its relation to the rural community and rural life, the committee finds little that can be utilized for a careful study of the present problems. There has been much generaliza- tion concerning the rural home but this generalization has been based upon material which is inadequate and seemingly contra- dictory. This lack of reliable material about the home seems to be due to several causes. (1) The tendency we all have to take for granted the things with which we are most familiar and to assume that the condi- tions with which we are acquainted are typical. (2) The intimacy of home relations which makes a study of the conditions in the home, except possibly of the economic con- ditions, seem to be an intrusion. (3) The fact that many of those who in recent years have been interested in studying rural conditions and the rural home have been town or city born and bred and, therefore, when they have attempted to make a survey they have used the town home as the standard and have interpreted the phenomena which they found in terms of the town home. (4) The fact that many investigators have studied the home with reference to some particular reform which they wished to introduce into rural life or with reference to some social scheme which they wished to justify. (5) The inability of many of those interested in country life i Adapted from Proceedings 1st Natl. Country Life Conf., Baltimore, 1919, pp. 117-119. National Country Life Assn., Dwight Sanderson, Ex. Secy., Ithaca, N. Y. THE RURAL HOME 325 to realize the change in rural home conditions, and the tendency they have shown toward assuming that the function which the rural home should perform and does perform in the community has remained unchanged in spite of the great economic and social changes outside the home. Because of this scarcity of reliable material on which to base attempts to solve some of the problems of the rural home, it seems to the committee that the most important pieces of work that it can undertake for the coming year will be those of (1) Gathering together the few studies which have already been made of the rural home and (2) Making new studies in different sections of the country and under different conditions, in order to secure, if possible, suf- ficient material for formulating some tentative statements as to the present status of the rural home in the community, its func- tion, and its problems. The committee feels that further information should be gathered concerning the following points and it expects, also, to add others to the list : (1) The functions that the home is performing in the rural community and the degree to which it is necessary or desirable at the present time, with our present community organization, for the home to provide food, shelter, clothing, recreation, sanita- tion, religious life, etc., for the family. (2) The relative emphasis now placed in the rural home upon the satisfaction of the desires of the members of the family for (a) food, (b) shelter, (c) clothing, (d) "higher life." (3) The relationships existing among individuals in a family which tend to retard or accelerate progress in the community. It is felt by the committee that the study of the relationships be- tween men and women and between adults and children in the family may indicate whether the rural home is tending to retain a form of despotism even though at times benevolent despotism which is out of harmony with the democratic standards being introduced into the community, because of its failure to provide for a division of rights and responsibilities among its members; or whether the retention of the older form of family organization is lending advantageous stability to the community. For exam- ple, when the war made it necessary for the food administrator 326 RURAL SOCIOLOGY to utilize the schools and the agricultural extension service in all its branches to educate the women and the children, so that food habits could be changed and food saved without great detriment to health, it was found that much of the time, energy and money used in educating the women and children was wasted and the results postponed because of the form of control within the home, and the question arises whether there is a compensating advantage to the community from this form of organization. It is felt that a careful study of present relationship may not only throw light upon the home conditions but also bring out some interesting facts concerning th*e relation between the amount of force exerted in the community for bringing about progress and the actual results produced. It may also help to determine whether the relationship that is found to exist is based upon an economic basis or a basis of tradition. (4) The actions and reactions 'of the home, the school, the church, the rural government, etc. (5) The effect upon the integrity of the home of the new interests which are being introduced into the rural communities : i.e. whether they are tending toward the disintegration of the home or the integration of the home on new lines. (6) The fundamental, as well as the immediate, effects upon the rural homes of (a) The introduction of automobiles, telephones, better trans- portation facilities and improved roads, especially in so far as they bring the city and country more closely together. (b) The organization of the Farm Bureau and the introduction into the counties of the Home Demonstration Agents and the Boys and Girls Clubs. (c) The emergency work which the men, women and children of the rural districts have been doing during the period of the war and the local emergency organizations, such as those formed by the Red Cross, the Council of Na- tional Defense, the Y. W. and Y. M. C. A., etc. These indicate some of the lines of inquiry which the committee would like to follow, though the committee realizes the difficulties attending the securing of reliable material along these lines. RURAL HOUSING 327 B. RURAL HOUSING RURAL HOUSING 1 ELMER S. FORBES % RURAL housing as a whole exhibits the same differences, the same degrees of excellence as does the housing of the towns. There are numbers of farms where the dwellings are well' built and provided with modern systems of heating and lighting and with every convenience for the economical dispatch of the work of the household, where the barns and outhouses are well kept and clean, and where the sanitation is all that can be desired. At the other end of the scale there are to be found here and there in the country single houses or small groups of houses which exhibit many of the characteristic marks of the slum. Not all, for in' the open country at the worst, there is plenty of fresh air and sunlight and space; but there are dirt and filth indescribable, the most primitive sanitation, serious overcrowding and indecent promiscuity. These slum spots exist not only in remote dis- tricts far from the railroads, but close search will find them in many communities where they would not be expected and where their presence is known to but few, on narrow country by-ways and lanes, in wild places in the vicinity of the railways, in ne- glected woodlands; indeed, there is scarcely a hamlet or town within whose limits these disreputable shacks may not be dis- covered. Two or three cases may be instanced by way of illustration. The family of a small farmer on the outskirts of a country village was found living in a one room log cabin in utter disregard of the ordinary laws of health and decency. As a consequence, two of the children had been attacked by tuberculosis, and unless im- mediate action were taken there was every reason to believe that all would become affected. Another such family lived in a dilapi- dated combination of dwelling and barn, not fit to be the habita- tion of either cattle or human beings, Inhere the overcrowding was equal to that in the most 'congested districts of the cities and all i Adapted from the Annals of American Academy of Political and Social Science, January, 1914, pp. 110-116. 328 RURAL SOCIOLOGY sanitary conveniences were conspicuous by their absence. As an example of still lower type there may be instanced a degenerate group of four men, two women and three children who occupied a shack in a clearing of the woods in the neighborhood of a New England town until they were finally dispersed by the authori- ties. Such cases can be duplicated almost anywhere. In all of them, with scarcely an exception, the housing conditions are vile, the equal of anything in the slums of the towns, and yet in the opin- ion of the writer the problem which they present is not essentially one of housing reform. In this respect the particularly bad hous- ing of the rural districts is quite different from that of the towns. City slums are due in large measure to land and business specula- tion, utilization of land for dwelling house sites which is too valuable for this purpose, an inequitable system of taxation, the lack of any housing law worth the name, inadequate supervision, and a disposition on the part of some landlords to exploit their tenants. These are causes which are in no way connected with the character of the families living in the slums, and their opera- tion can be checked by right legislation honestly enforced. The slum spot in the open country, however, is not so much due to social or economic causes beyond the control of the occupant as it is to his own mental and moral deficiencies. Land specula- tion, speculative building, methods of taxation, the greed of land- lords, none of these in most cases has anything to do with it. Such dwellings are the natural expression of the lives of the shiftless, feeble-minded, immoral, drunken or criminal people who inhabit them. It is not a better housing law which is re- quired here so much as it is the labor colony, the penitentiary, the almshouse, and the home for moral imbeciles. These social plague spots are the cause of enormous public expense and are a steadily increasing burden upon the industry and thrift of the community. They should be accurately registered, carefully studied, and each one should be disposed of upon its own merits. All this will cost much effort and money but not a tithe of what it will cost twenty, thirty, or fifty years hence, and incidentally it will wipe out the country slum. Dr. W. C. Stiles, of the U. S. Marine Hospital Service, states that of 3,369 farmhouses in six different States 57 per cent, have RURAL HOUSING 329 no privies of any kind. The better grade of farm house is always provided with some sort of sanitary convenience, but the number where it is anything more than the ordinary outdoor privy is com- paratively small. The neglected privy is the greatest danger to the health of the farming community, and a menace to the popula- tion of the towns through the part which it must play in the contamination of milk, vegetables, and fruits sent to city markets. It denies the soil all around it, and unless carefully located may pollute the family water supply. The fact is so generally known that it is not necessary to give statistics showing that serious epi- demics have been started by the use of water from country wells polluted by the disease-infected privy. It is the breeding place of countless generations of flies, and when used by persons suf- fering from any kind of infectious disease, as fevers, dysentery, diarrhea, and the like, the contagion may be spread far and wide by their agency. The family cess pool is but one degree less dangerous than the outdoor privy, and together they have un- doubtedly been responsible for a vast amount of sickness and death. OVERCROWDING AND DEFECTIVE HOUSING 1 HARVEY BASHORE WHAT is the result of this overcrowding and lack of proper housing in the country? Just exactly the same as in the great cities. Lack of efficiency, disease, and premature death to many. We have been talking much lately of our conservative policy of lumber, coal and wild animals, but in many instances fail to see the great loss due to human inefficiency brought about by lack of suitable environment. While the great majority of people sub- jected to overcrowding and bad housing conditions do not prema- turely die, j^et they have lessened physical and mental vigor, are less able to do properly their daily work, and not only become a loss to themselves and their families, but to the State ; and for- ever stand on the threshold of that dread disease tuberculosis; for tuberculosis is the one great disease of the overcrowded. 1 Adapted from "Overcrowding and Defective Housing," pp. 8O-92, John Wiley and Son, N. Y. 330 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Just how much tuberculosis we have in the rural districts in proportion to the great cities is pretty hard to say: but every one who has investigated it is -positive in the opinion that there is just as much in the country districts : indeed, some report more in the country than in the adjoining cities. We find it in the farmhouse and the mountain home : habits of carelessness possibly keep up the infection. We do not have "lung blocks," like the large cities, but we do have "lung houses," where case after case of tuberculosis has lived and perhaps developed. The prevalence of tuberculosis in the country is so evidently marked that there is a growing interest in the subject in many places. The Wisconsin Antituberculosis League, a year or so ago, made a very careful and exact sanitary survey of a certain rural district in that State, relative to the amount of this dis- ease, and found that in some parts of this district the death-rate from tuberculosis exceeded that of Milwaukee, Wisconsin 's largest city. Minnesota also discovered that it had much tuberculosis in its rural districts. "As serious," says Dr. Daugherty, who investi- gated the subject, ' ' as that in the congested areas of the cities. ' ' Following a rural survey of several townships, under the auspices of the State Antituberculosis Association, there were found hous- ing conditions much as I have described in the preceding pages as existing in Pennsylvania. "The average number of people sleeping in one room," says the report, "was four." In one house there were eight, in another nine, and it was not at all uncommon to find five or six. This was not due to the fact that there was not enough room, for in many of the houses the whole family would sleep in one room, use one for the kitchen, and leave two, three, and in some cases four, rooms vacant. Coincident with this bad housing there was found one township where there were twenty-two deaths from tuberculosis in a popu- lation of 500 in ten years : a death rate of 44 per 10,000. These investigators in Minnesota also found that "contributing causes, as overwork and poor food, which play such an important part among the inhabitants of the crowded tenement districts, do not usually count for much in the country. Bad housing and unre- stricted exposure to contagion seem to be the great factors. ' ' Of course, in certain well-to-do farming districts, such as were under RURAL HOUSING 331 investigation, this would hold good, but in many other places, es- pecially in parts of Pennsylvania known to the author, poor food and lack of food are a vast contributing cause of this dis- ease. A poor constitution to start with, and insufficient food, soon engender a condition which quickly yields to the inroads of the bacillus. As a corollary to this is the rapid improvement of such incipient cases, when put on the food and under the proper environment of a sanitarium. And now a word, a very short word, about the remedy for over- crowding and bad housing in the country. This probably can not be attacked as in the great cities, by legislative enactment or resort to legal measures, but the solution lies, it seems to me, in proper education by the yarious health authorities, by the schools, and by the press, and the crusade must be kept up until the peo- ple understand that it pays pays in real dollars and cents to live in sanitary homes. Educate the rural dweller in regard to the penalties for bad housing, show him how tuberculosis follows in the wake of overcrowding, poor food, and dissipation: in a great many instances he will mend his ways. In Pennsylvania this work is carried on by the Tuberculosis Dispensaries of the State Department of Health scattered all through the State, where they have become the foci for spreading sanitary knowl- edge of just the sort needed in rural communities. Visiting nurses from these dispensaries go to the homes, and to my per- sonal knowledge do much, very much, to remedy the defects of bad and improper living, and do it without resort to any legal means. There is no factor so potent for good as the work of the visiting nurses of this great health department; and many other States are taking up the work and carrying it forward on the same lines. HOUSING CONDITIONS ON FARMS IN NEW YORK STATE 1 L. H. BAILEY HOUSING conditions in the country run all the way from very cheap and poor tenant houses to well-appointed large farm res- i Adapted from "York State Rural Problems," Vol. 1 : 55-59, Lyon, Albany, 1910. 332 RURAL SOCIOLOGY idences. Between these two extremes there is every range of condition. The better class of farm residences is all that can be desired. The poorer class is, of course, quite the opposite. Even the better class of farm residences does not represent money value as measured by city and town values. This is largely due to the fact that most of them were built many years ago, when materials were cheap, and also before the addition of water- works and other modern improvements. A residence in the farming region that is valued at one thousand dollars may be actually more roomy and comfortable than one in the town that is valued at more than twice that sum. In this letter I am, of course, omitting all reference to the country seats of non- residents or absentees. I have asked Professor Warren to give me his comment on housing conditions as found in his surveys; and most of the following statements of fact are his. Practically all of the farmhouses in New York State, as in the northern states in general, are made of wood. In the northeast- ern states nearly all of these houses were built at least fifty years ago. Only a small percentage have been constructed along the newer lines. In Livingston county, which is one of the richest agricultural regions in the country, Warren found that the average value of these houses in 1909 was not quite $1,600. Of course, it would cost much more than an average of $1,600 to build these houses, but this is the estimated average value of the house as it stands. Perhaps $1,000 would be nearer correct for the average value of the farm residence in the State, but it would take over twice this much to build these houses at the present time. The new houses would probably also be worth twice as much, because new and better adapted to the needs. The average number in the family in Livingston county is 4.2 persons, and the average of boarders or hired men .8, making a total of five persons as the size of the average farm family. Of course, this gives no suggestion as to the number of children away from home. In Tompkins county the average farm fam- ily, exclusive of hired help, was found to be 3.55. The size of the farmhouse is, of course, exceedingly variable, but the average would probabty be about six or seven ro.oms. The farm water-supply is practically always situated at some RURAL HOUSING 333 distance from the house. On some farms running water is piped to the house, but these are exceptions. Bathrooms are yet rare in general farming regions. In western New York, along the lake shore, a considerable number of farmers are installing water- supply and bathrooms, but outside of this section probably not more than one in several hundred of the farms has a bathroom. In one county less than one in 500 was found to be thus sup- plied. The heat is nearly always provided by a kitchen stove, and in colder weather often one additional stove is used. The chief fuel is wood, but a considerable amount of coal is used in winter, particularly for the second stove. The almost universal system of lighting is with kerosene lamps, although acetylene is used by a small number of farmers. Perhaps more persons have acetylene for lighting than have bathrooms. The privy is located largely by chance, so that it is often near the wells, but in the great majority of cases it is not close enough to be a serious menace to the water-supply. The fact that it is often left open so as to provide a feeding-place and gathering-place for flies is perhaps the greatest source of danger. All of the above discussion refers to the main house on the farm. The houses occupied by hired help are usually smaller and not in so good repair as are the farmhouses discussed above. Probably tenant houses do not average more than five or six rooms. The difference between them and the other house is likely to be more striking in questions of repair than in actual size. The change from old housing conditions to new is very grad- ual. Perhaps it ought to be accelerated by having more atten- tion given to the subject in public lecture and teaching work. It is customary not to discuss personal questions so much as crops and live-stock and commercial situations. If the farmer lacks in some of the mechanical conveniences of city dwellers, he gains in space to each person, light, outlook, storage place, room to move, and ability to control his premises. If he were to add more freely of mechanical conveniences and contrivances, his conditions of housing would be enviable. We need now to have as much ingenuity applied to housing conditions as has been applied to farming practices. 334 RURAL SOCIOLOGY BIBLIOGRAPHY WOMEN IN AGRICULTURE Allen, Mrs. M. M. Poultry Culture for Women. N. Y. Dept. of Agri- culture, Bu. of Farmers' Institutes, Report 1904, pp. 249-256. Baldensperger, J. Beekeeping for Women. American Bee Journal, V. 58, pp. 53-54, Feb., 1918. Beckman, F. W. Women Testers in Iowa. Hoard's Dairyman, V. 55, p. 807, May 31, 1918. Burns, Adelaide. The Truth about Squab Raising for Women. Coun- try Life in America, V. 18, pp. 67-68, 86, 88, May, 1910. Cyphers Incubator Co. Reports of Successful Poultry Growers $1000 Annual Prize Contest, 1912-1913 edition. Buffalo, N. Y. Farm Tractors, War and Women. Touchstone, V. 2, pp. 606-611, Mar., 1918. Farrington, E. H. Women in Dairy Manufacturing. N. Y. Prod. Rev. & American Creamery, V. 46, pp. 366-368, July 3, 1918. Francis, M. S. Opportunities for Profit in Horticulture. California St. Com. of Horticulture, Mo. Bui., V. 5, pp. 434-437, Dec., 1916. Fraser, Helen. "The Women's Land Army." In Women and War Work, Chapter 8, pp. 155-167, New York, Shaw, 1918. Gordon, G. P. War-time Training and Employment of Women in For- estry. Quarterly Journal of Forestry, V. 12, pp. 266-271, Oct., 1918. Women a Success in Planting Work. Canadian Forestry Journal, V. 14, pp. 1961-1964, Dec., 1918. Griswold, Beatrice. A Woman's Success in Forest-seed Cultivation. Countryside Magazine, V. 22, pp. 355-356, 387, June, 1916. Hartt, M. B. Women and the Art of Landscape Gardening. Outlook, V. 88, pp. 694-704, Mar. 28, 1908. Landman, M. V. Women Farmers. Cornell Countryman, V. 14, pp. 479-502, Mar., 1917. Laut, A. C. Training Recruits for the Farm Game, Especially Girls Who Have Been to the Agricultural Camps. Country Gentleman, V. 82, No. 44, pp. 6-7, 52, Nov. 3, 1917. MacKenzie, Cameron. England's Farmerettes. Country Gentleman, V. 83, pp. 6-8, 48, Mar. 2, 1918. McLean, A. M. The Fruit Industries of California. In Wage-earn- ing Women, pp. 116-129, N. Y., Macm., 1910. Mahaney, Margaret. Margaret Mahaney Talks about Turkeys. Bos- ton, Park & Pollard Co., 1915. Negley, Noel. Wisconsin Has the First Woman Cow Tester. Hoard's Dairyman, V. 53, p. 973, July 13, 1917. Noel, C. T. My Bees. American Bee Journal, V. 58, pp. 22-23, Jan., 1918. Ogilvie, I. H. Agriculture, Labor, and Women. Columbia Univ. Quar- terly, V. 20, No. 4, pp. 293-300, Oct., 1918. RURAL HOUSING 335 Pellett, F. C. How the Women Win. American Bee Journal, V. 57, pp. 372-373, Nov., 1917. Preistman, M. T. How One Woman Keeps Bees. Country Life in America, V. 18, pp. 51-52, May, 1910. Some Real Women Farmers. Wallace's Farmer, V. 43, p. 1159, Aug. 16, 1918. Stebbing, E. P. The Employment of Women in Forestry. In British Forestry, Chapter 15, pp. 215-254, London, Murray, 1916. Stone, J. L. Opportunities for Women in Agriculture. Cornell Coun- tryman, V. 14, pp. 32-34, Oct., 1916. Warren, G. E. and Livermore, K. C. Women as Farmers. In an a.2ri- cultural survey. Cornell Agri. Exp. Sta. Bui. 295, pp. 544-548, Ithaca, 1911. Warwick, Frances Evelyn. Hodge in Petticoats. Fortnightly Re- view, V. 106, pp. 321-324, Aug. 1, 1916. Wellesley college training camp and experiment station for the Woman's land army of America. Report : Advanced ed., 1918, p. 32, Second ed., 1919, p. 95. Wilkins, Roland. The work of educated women in horticulture and agriculture. Journal Bd. of Agri. Great Britain, V. 22, pp. 544-569, Sept., 1915; pp. 616-642, Oct., 1915. Also published by Women's Farm and Garden Union, London, 1916. Wilson, E. G. Woman's Work in Greenhouses. Florists' Exchange, V. 45, p. 434, Mar. 2, 1918. Winters, S. R. Miss Hefner Cheesemaker. Kimball's Dairy Farmer, V. 16, pp. 410-411, May 15, 1918. Women's Educational and Industrial Union. Agricultural occupations ... In Vocations for the Trained Woman, V. 1, pt. 1, pp. 122- 167, Boston, 1914. Women's Educational and Industrial Union. Appointment Bureau. Poultry Raisins 1 as a Vocation for Women. Vocational series Bul- letin No. 5, Boston, 1911. Wolseley, F. G. Gardening for Women. London, Cassell, 1908. Young Women Can Help. Wallace's Farmer, V. 43, p. 938, June 14, 1918. THE RURAL HOME Andrews, Benj. R. Education for the Home. U. S. B. of Education, 1914. Bailey, Ilena M. A Study cf the Management of the Farm Home. Joum. of Home Econ., Au^.-Sept., 1915. Am. Home Economics Assn., Baltimore, Md. Buell, Jennie. One Woman's Work for Farm Women. Whitcornb, Boston, 1908. Crow, Martha Foote. The American Country Girl. Stokes, }T. Y., 1915. Dixon, S. G. The Rural Home. Annals 40 : 168-174, March, 1912. Dodd, Helen Chamberlain. The Healthful Farm House, Whitcomb, Boston, 1906. 336 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Domestic Needs of Farm Women. U. S. D. A., Report 104, 1915. Extracts from letters received from farm women in response to an inquiry. Economic Needs of Farm Women. U. S. D. A., Report 106, 1915. Educational Needs of Farm Women. U. S. D. A., Report 105, 1915. Forbes, E. S. Rural Housing. Annals 51 : 110-6, Jan., 1914. Gillette, John M. Making Farm Life More Attractive. In his Con- structive Rural Sociology, Sturgis, N. Y., 1915. Langworthy, C. F. What the Department of Agriculture is Doing for the Housekeeper, U. S. D. A. Yearbook, 1913. Proceedings of the 30th Annual Convention of the Assn. of American Agricultural Colleges and Experiment Stations, Washington, 1916. Proceedings of the American Assn. of Farmers' Institute Workers, 14th Annual Meeting, 1909. Report of Committee on Women's Insti- tutes. Richards, Ellen H. The Farm Home a Center of Social Progress. In Bailev's Cyclopedia of American Agriculture, Vol. IV, pp. 280- 284. Seott, Rhea Clarke. Home Labor Saving Devices. Lippincott, Phila., 1917. Small and Vincent. The Family on the Farm. In their Introduction to the Study of Society, Book II, Chap. I, American Book Co., 1894. Social and Labor Needs of Farm Women. U. S. D. A., Report 103, 1915. Extracts from letters received from farm women in re- sponse to an inquiry. CHAPTER XIII THE COUNTRY SCHOOL AN EPIGRAM 1 T. J. COATES ' * THE average farmer and rural teacher think the rural school as a little house, on a little ground, with a little equipment, where a little teacher at a little salary, for a little while, teaches little children little things." THE STATUS OF THE RURAL SCHOOL 2 ERNEST BURNHAM THE value of the school as an integrating agent in rural com- munity life lies primarily in the success of its work as a school. No single institution can so cheapen rural community life as a poor school, because next to the common industry agriculture the school is the greatest mutual interest. Besides doing what it is specifically directed to do interpret to children their in- heritances the school may react as a unifying agent through the school library, the annual meeting, the course of study, the social activities of the pupils, cooperation between school and home, through being the leader in, or at least the host for, the intellectual and a?sthetic community meetings and through sym- pathetic, voluntary, competent and unostentatious promotion of the best things by the teacher. The chief elements of efficiency in the rural schools are : first, individual objective in instruction; second, simple and natural stimulations; third, the inter-action of all grades and ages; 1 Adapted from a circular letter issued by United States Bureau of Education. 2 Adapted from Rural School Efficiency in Kalamazoo County, Michigan, Bulletin No. 4, 1900, pp. 22-25. Published by State Superintendent of Public Instruction, Lansing. 337 338 RURAL SOCIOLOGY fourth, the constant, though not often consciously realized, tui- tion of nature. The chief elements of efficiency now absent from the rural schools are: first, conscious integration of the work by teachers and pupils ; second, the best physical and mechanical accessories ; third, due appreciation of the value of education by many par- ents and pupils; fourth, adequately qualified and efficiently di- rected teachers. The unexhausted resources of the rural schools are: first, an equalized and proportionate use of local and state funds; sec- ond, a comparatively well trained and experienced staff of teach- ers, well led and themselves capable of leadership ; third, a con- sciously intelligent interpretation of nature; fourth, the im- petus of Awakened community consciousness. The state cannot afford supinely or ignorantly to neglect fully to develop the unexhausted resources of the public schools. It is true that the rural schools are less well cared for to-day than the urban schools. It is historically true that the country bred citizen has been the nation's most valuable human asset. He has had a longer childhood and youth. He has come to maturity with a greater potential of nervous energy. He has, by constant association in work and play, absorbed the wisdom of the parent generation. Nature has had him largely to herself, and "Whenever the way seemed long, Or liis heart began to fail, She sang a more wonderful song, And told a more marvelous tale." President Roosevelt said, "The small farm worked by the owner has been the best place to breed leaders for both city and country." The conservation of that wholesome country life which pro- duces the greatest human excellence, is the first public considera- tion. The rural school is the most peculiarly public institution in country life. It is the shortest cut to planned public par- ticipation in rural progress. The rural school teacher is the largest factor in the problem. The teacher is the publicly ap- pointed executive partner of the parent generation, of nature, and of God. The small community integrates the elemental THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 339 sources of life. It is, therefore, an oasis capable of producing the richest human fruitage. Selected fertilization, industrial, educational, social, political and spiritual, is the supreme need. Equipped and inspired leaders incarnate and communicate se- lected fertilization. The state may, if she will, put such leaders into the life of every rural community. The four inequalities in the state's provision for the intel- lectual uprearing of her youth are : 1. The collection and use of the public funds. 2. The agencies instituted for the qualification of publicly em- ployed teachers. 3. The supervisory control of the schools. 4. The years of instruction offered at public expense. Two groups of questions immediately suggest themselves to the student of rural schools : First group 1. To what extent are these inequalities due to defects in the statutes? 2. What amendments are necessary? Second group 1. What inequalities are not due to defects in the statutes? 2. How may these be reached and remedied? The answers to these questions, which the facts presented in this report suggest, are : First group 1. Inequalities (a) in the collection and use of the public funds, (b) in supervision, (c) in the years of free public instruction, are due to inadequate statutory provisions. 2. The amendments suggested are (a) the enlargement of the area unit for taxation pur- poses from an ungraded district to a township ; this not necessarily to involve the centralization of the schools, ample provision for which, when de- sired, has already been made ; (b) the provision of sufficient means for securing effi- cient supervisory direction of all the schools ; 340 RURAL SOCIOLOGY (c) the extension of the privilege of free secondary in- struction to pupils in schools not giving such in- struction, through the payment of tuition and transportation by the township. Second group 1. Inequalities in the qualification of publicly employed teachers are human considerations largely not subject to legal control. However, there is at present a very noticeable difference in the preparation by the state of teachers for ungraded rural schools and graded urban schools. This condition is not due to defec- tive statutes. It is due largely to an interpretation of the statutes which has permitted a concentration of the state's ap- propriations for teacher training, more than five-thirteenths of which has been paid by rural ungraded districts, upon the preparation of teachers for graded urban schools. 2. This condition has come into public attention and in recent years a redirection of part of the normal school activities to the service of the ungraded rural schools has begun in a small way to make good to these schools the accumulated loss of the years. Further attempts have been made to refund the rural communi- ties that which has been taken from them by the state without practically any direct return, by the remitting of tuition in the normal schools to teachers preparing for country service and by the institution of the county normal training classes, largely sup- ported by the state, for rural teachers. REHABILITATING THE RURAL SCHOOL 1 L. L. BERNARD IT is the contention of the present writer that the heart of the problem of functionalizing the rural school is the question of the curriculum. Therefore, in the following brief outline of changes most urgently needed to be wrought in the general or- ganization of the rural school this change is placed first, i Adapted from "School and Society," Vol. IV, Xo. 100, p. 810-16, Nov. 25, 1916. THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 341 We must fall back upon the rural school as the only agency which fulfills all the fundamental conditions necessary to equip it for the work of educating the rural population up to the new requirements of country life in our day. The rural school, under proper conditions as to organization and curriculum, should be able to give this information most effectively to the largest num- ber and in the shortest time. Therefore all reforms of the rural school should aim directly or indirectly at functionalizing its curriculum. The changes which might be immediately brought about in the rural school's course of study, without arousing un- necessary opposition or disturbance, are three in number. 1. Certain of the old and well established subjects, such as arithmetic, grammar (language study), biology (nature study), geography and physiology (sanitation and hygiene), should be brought down to practical and local application. Educational theory as applied to the rural community has already gone this far. It is only necessary to infuse the political state educational administrations with the knowledge of the desirability of this change to make it fairly effective, and there is some cause for encouragement in believing that this desired end may be at- tained even before politics is eradicated from these state educa- tional administrations. Some text-books and teaching outlines looking in this direction have already been prepared in each of the subjects mentioned. The general effect of such a change would be to bring the formal instruction of many of the standard courses in the rural school into direct and functional contact with the techniques of the occupation of farming. Nor would any general or cultural educational values adhering to these sub- jects be lost, for the general underlying principles of knowledge in each would of course remain the same. Only the illustrative material would change. 2. The courses mentioned above can at their best be made to deal only with the techniques of production and sanitation. They can not be made to reach over into the constructive eco- nomic and social activities of country life. At present there are no courses in the country school which perform this wide function, and such courses must be introduced. The knowledge for which there is now the most crying need in the rural community is that which will enable the farmer to 342 RURAL SOCIOLOGY understand the fundamentals of his business, social, institutional and civic life. The modern farmer, regardless of the size of his acres, must be a business man, whether he wishes it or not. He has at last been caught in the swirl of the industrial revolution with its emphasis upon division of labor and specialization ; upon markets and credits; and above all upon science and efficiency. For the sake of greater productivity he has lost his self-suffi- ciency. A half-hearted teaching of agriculture has been added to the rural course of study, but the farmer has not learned to enter the markets to the best advantage nor to protect himself once the requirements of his occupation have brought him in. His institutions are largely outgrown survivals of pioneer con- ditions and have neither the organization nor the grasp neces- sary for adjusting him to modern life. They are largely inert and parasitic, not virile with the spirit of leadership. The gov- ernmental aspects of rural life are so little in the farmer's con- sciousness that he scarcely realizes that he has any such connec- tions at all. Although the plan of organization of county and rural governments is not beyond the powers of comprehension of the most ordinary normal intellect, very few farmers who have no political ambitions for themselves really understand it. Government means to them national government, and no other group so complacently takes its political opinions ready made or so universally fails to take any opinion on matters of most intimate personal concern to it. Organization for independent political expression, especially on local matters, is extremely ex- ceptional among farmers. Th6 explanation of such a wholesale abdication of the priv- ileges of democratic control over his destiny can be explained only in terms of the farmer's lack of information regarding his broader social and economic needs and the techniques of organiz- ing his interests effectively. The most hopeful proposition for meeting this need is to introduce just this subject-matter into the rural school curriculum. The time has arrived when we can no longer forbear to add courses of regular instruction in mat- ters of such intimate concern to the farmer's welfare. 3. A third change in the rural school curriculum capable of accomplishing much good would be to make the school readers truly supplementary to the general purposes of education. The THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 343 reader should supplement the two types of instruction outlined above, but particularly the second, the more general economic, social and civic type of teaching. The readers should be dis- tinctly supplementary, their general function being to stimulate interest in more intensive study and to give coloring and emo- tional content through personal instances and sidelights. Thus a description of cooperation in Denmark or of the work of Pastor Oberlin or the story of the founding of the John Swaney School could not but give the student an impetus to the discovery through his formal courses of the techniques for bringing about such changes in his own community. One of the most frequent objections to proposals to expand the curriculum on its civic side is that there is not time for such a modified curriculum in the one-teacher rural school. That is true in essentials. It is also true that there is not time for the efficient teaching of any curriculum in a school consisting of eight grades and presided over by one teacher only. Where at all possible the old one-room school must go. It belongs to the age when farming was carried on by means of a single horse and a double shovel or a "bull tongue" plow and each family was a self-sufficing unit with but few and simple contacts with the outside world. This is the age of machine farming and it is also the age of efficiency in education. The consolidation movement is so well under way that it scarcely needs the support of argu- ment ; it is much more in need of guidance. There are three kinds of consolidation, and of these complete consolidation of enough districts to make the school really efficient and to pro- vide high-school facilities is by far the best type where it is at all possible. This sort of consolidation involves transportation, which is at once the most expensive and the most combated fea- ture of consolidation. But even transportation pays in the long run. Where complete consolidation with transportation does not appear to be feasible many districts are consolidating for high- school purposes and leaving the district schools intact for the elementary students. Such a policy seems of doubtful wisdom. While there is a saving due to the lack of community transpor- tation, the cost in duplication and inefficiency probably overbal- ances the saving. The third type of consolidation is to be found where two or three or four districts unite, usually for fiscal 344 RURAL SOCIOLOGY rather than primarily for educational purposes. Such limited consolidation may be better than none, but it by 110 means ap- proximates the ideal. For one reason or another there will probably always be some isolated one-teacher schools. What can we do with these? Surely we must have a fairly uniform curriculum for country schools. Our revised course of study could probably be adapted to these schools quite as well as the present one is, especially if the great amount of dead matter which now exists in the rural school curriculum were eliminated. And the resulting benefits to the community should be much greater. The best effects from such a change in curriculum can not be realized until the rural school is brought into closer contact with the adult members of the community. Already in certain isolated instances much has been done in the way of rural school extension, especially through agricultural club work, school fairs, cooperative instruction in farm practice and home economics on the farms and in the homes of patrons; and in some cases the schools have attempted to give some formal instruction to adults. The busy teacher of a one-room school is necessarily limited by lack of time, and possibly by her sex, in the amount that may be accomplished in these directions. Both these limitations may, however, be removed if the consolidated school and its extension work can be so expanded as to include not only agriculture and home economics, but also cooperative endeavor in the wider forms of social and civic interests. Along with these more definitely educational modifications in the rural school should come certain administrative changes which we need only mention briefly here. The value of medical and dental inspection and supervision in rural schools is now conceded. It is one of the improvements which will soon come regardless of other changes here suggested. And there is also great need of better state and county administration, super- vision and inspection of rural schools. Likewise our taxing sys- tem as at present applied to country schools does not secure anything like equality of educational opportunity. These and other problems are coming into the public consciousness. But the heart of the rural school problem is that of the cur- riculum. For as it is, so will be in large degree the intellectual, THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 345 civic and occupational outlook of the farmer of to-morrow. It should be repeated that without knowledge the fanner can not even understand his problems ; much less will he be able to solve them. It is because of the crucial nature of this knowledge problem that the rural school is the determinative institution of rural life. If it fails the farmer all else must assuredly fail him. THE COUNTY AS A UNIT OF ADMINISTRATION l A. C. MONAHAN WE find four units of organization for the administration of the rural schools in the United States the district, township, magisterial district, and county. The district, or the single dis- trict, as it is sometimes called, is the unit in twenty-one states and in parts of four others. The township is the unit in ten states and in parts of three others. The magisterial district is the unit in two. The county is the unit in eleven states and in part of one other. On the whole, the county unit has most to commend it. The territory included in a county is usually small enough for a county board to keep in touch with the entire county, and it is large enough for school districts to be arranged to the best ad- vantage, both for the convenience of the pupils and for economy in management and support. It is the unit of supervision in the great majority of states. For efficiency the supervision and administration must be closely united. This is possible in the best way only when the unit of supervision and the unit of or- ganization are identical. Another consideration in favor of the county unit is the question of support. The county is now the unit in most states for the assessment and collection of taxes, the building and care of roads and bridges, and maintenance of crim- inal and civil courts. To make it the unit for school purposes would do away with local district taxes for education, equalize the tax rate for the county, and distribute the cost of the sup- port of the schools over the entire county, so that equal educa- i Adapted from "The Need of a County Unit," U. S. Bur. of Ed., Bul- letin No. 30, 1913, pp. 52-54. 346 RURAL SOCIOLOGY tional opportunities would prevail .throughout the county. It must be clearly recognized that education is a matter of concern not only to the local district but also to the county, and to the state and nation as well. The ideal county system, judging from the most successful elements in various state systems where the county is the unit of organization, is probably as follows: The entire management and control of the schools of the county rests in the hands of a county board of education composed of three, six, or nine mem- bers, one-third of whom are elected by the voters of the county at each annual or biennial election. This insures a continuing board. The county board should have the selection of a county superintendent of schools, who becomes the agent of the board in the management of school affairs. In the administration of the course of study, however, the county superintendent should be independent of the county board, as that is a professional task which requires the expert judgment of a professionally trained man. The county superintendent should be a man who has had a good general education, professional education in psychology and pedagogy, and successful experience as a teacher. In the administration of the course of study his only responsibility should be to the state department of education. The county superintendent should select all teachers for the county, final election being a prerogative of the county board. The county board of education should divide the county into school districts, for convenience in locating schools and assigning pupils to the various buildings. In each district there should be a trustee or a board of trustees, either appointed by the county board or elected by the people of the district. This local board would have no absolute power, but would have the immediate oversight of the local school and act in a supervisory capacity to the county board in all affairs dealing with their school. School funds should be assessed and expended on the county as a unit. If the county contains independent school districts, the school tax should be levied on all taxable property in the county including that in the city districts. The funds collected should be divided between the county as a whole and the inde- pendent districts, probably on the basis of school population. The basis of division would depend upon local conditions in THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 347 each state. The independent city districts might raise further funds for the support of their schools, if they so desired. The school districts in the county might also raise an additional sum for the support of their school, although in the ideal system the county funds should be sufficient for all school purposes. It is essential that the county board of education have power to ex- pend the county funds wherever they are most needed, regard- less of the portion of the funds coming from any particular school district. The average county in the United States is too large an area for adequate supervision of its rural schools by the county super- intendent, unless enough assistance is furnished him so that the schools may be visited and the teachers assisted in their work at regular, frequent periods. In the eighteen larger cities in the United States in 1910 there was one supervisor for every nine- teen teachers, devoting half or more than half of his time to supervising. Such close supervision is probably not necessary in the country schools. The county superintendent, however, should have at least one assistant devoting his entire time to supervising the instructional work of the schools for every thirty- five or forty teachers. Massachusetts and Oregon, both of which require all schools to be under expert supervision, have set the maximum as fifty country schools in each supervisory district; that is, fifty schools to one supervisor. In only a few cases, par- ticularly in Massachusetts, do any supervisors have as many as fifty. THE CHANGE FROM AMATEUR TO PROFESSIONAL TEACHING * HAROLD W. FOGHT THE change from amateur to professional teaching may be hastened in several ways: (1) Salaries should be increased enough so a teacher with family may live on his income with- out worrying how to make ends meet. Provision should also be made, by legal enactment, for a liberal sliding-scale salarj^, allowing the teacher's income to increase in direct ratio to i Adapted from "Efficiency and Preparation of Rural School Teachers/' Bulletin 49 (1914), U. S. Bureau of Education. 348 RURAL SOCIOLOGY length of service in the same community. This is only fair, since teachers of the right sort will unquestionably grow in value to the community year by year. (2) The entire school plant should be reconstructed to answer present needs and be attractive and sanitary. This would be another inducement for the teacher to spend his best years in the open country. (3) The community should be obliged by legal enactment to erect a teacher's cottage close by the modern school building and pref- erably upon the same grounds. (4) Teachers' colleges, normal schools, and other schools with teacher-training classes should be encouraged to organize distinct departments in rural life and rural teaching, from which to draw teachers prepared and will- ing to undertake work in the new farm schools. THE RURAL HIGH SCHOOL 1 GEORGE H. BETTS AND OTIS E. HALL WILLINGNESS of the rural community to provide high school education for its youth is one of the first tests of its right to the loyalty of the young people. The four years of school privileges above the elementary grades now so generally avail- able to urban children must be similarly open to country boys and girls, else we can not blame them for deserting the farms for the better educational opportunities afforded by the town. The high school must be free and must be accessible to the boys and girls of the farm. The high school is not yet free to the majority of rural chil- dren, even if they are willing to go to town for their high school training. In many states the rural youth must himself pay a tuition of from three to five dollars a month if he attends the nearest town high school. His district disclaims all responsibility for his education after he completes the elementary school. Some states, as Iowa, for example, have recently provided that grad- uates of rural schools may attend the nearest high school, the district to pay the tuition fees. But in the Iowa law, reasonable i Adapted from "Better Rural Schools," pp. 258-202. The Bobbs-Mer- rill Company, Indianapolis, 1914. THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 349 as the demand on the district is, the liability is limited to three dollars and fifty cents a month, any amount in excess of this de- volving on the pupil. But even where the rural district freely pays the tuition in the town high school, such a situation is far from satisfactory. The high school training afforded rural children should be in rural high schools arid not in town and city schools. Not only in curriculum but in spirit and in teaching, the rural high school should represent the life and activities of the farm. If the rural high school is to maintain an adequate standard of efficiency, if it is to serve its patronage aright, it must take into its pro- gram of studies training in the concrete affairs awaiting its graduates. There are at present more than two thousand public and private high schools in the United States teaching agricul- ture, but comparatively few of these have actual country environ- ment, most of them being situated in towns and cities. Such is also true of the more than one hundred special agricultural schools of secondary grade 'located in seventeen different states. While the agricultural ^courses taught in the city school are val- uable as educational material and well worth while from the standpoint of general culture and development, yet of neces- sity they lack the vitality and concreteness possessed by similar courses taught with an immediate environment of farm life and conditions. In the reorganization of rural education that is now going on, therefore, there must be definite provision for the in- stallation of high schools as a part of the rural system. The rural high school is a natural outgrowth of the movement toward consolidation. It need hardly be argued that the one- room school can never support a high school course, nor ought it under any circumstances to undertake the teaching of high school branches, except in rare instances where a number of the elementary grades are lacking from want of younger children in attendance. It has been almost uniformly found that the consolidating of a number of elementary schools into one school has brought about a demand for the introduction of high school subjects. Hence a large majority of the fully consolidated schools are now offering two or even four years of high-school work. Not a few of the consolidated rural schools in Indiana, Ohio and many other states, are fully equal in the scope and 350 RURAL SOCIOLOGY character of the curriculum and in the quality of teaching to the best town and city schools. The rural high schools in such communities are recognized by the colleges and universities, and their graduates are accepted on the same terms as those from urban schools. It may therefore be concluded that the policy of consolida- tion ultimately commits to the introduction of rural high schools as a part of the system. This is natural and right, since con- solidation not only encourages the regularity of attendance that allows completion of an elementary course preparatory to the high school, but also provides the type of curriculum and teach- ing necessary for such preparation. Further, the educational standards of communities supporting consolidated schools de- mand opportunities for high school education for their children. Certain regions, as in Illinois, have developed the township system of high schools independently of consolidation. Many of these township secondary schools are of high grade, fully the equal of town and city schools; indeed, not a few of them are conducted in some convenient town or cky of the township and are in effect not rural high schools at all. They offer the tra- ditional high school course of study, are governed by the typical urban high school spirit, which looks not toward farming but to other lines of occupation, and are therefore not the type of sec- ondary education most useful to rural communities. In other sections of the country, county high schools prevail, the county supporting one secondary school open to all qualified residents within the county. The county high school can be approved only as a temporary expedient to supply secondary edu- cation at a time when the economic ability is not equal to the burden of supporting high schools available to every community. In order to be wholly efficient, the high school must, like the ele- mentary school, be brought to the door of those for whom it is intended and must not require traveling half-way across a county in order to obtain its advantages. Nor must it demand that the pupil leave his home and enter the school as a boarding- school. To be truly a school of the people the rural high school must be connected with the rural elementary school, which is equivalent to saying that it will become a part of the consolidated school of the future. THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 351 THE SPREAD OF THE SCHOOL MANSE IDEA 1 GEORGE E. VINCENT THE older countries of Europe have long recognized that the proper housing of teachers is as much a duty of school authori- ties as the provision of class rooms, laboratories and gymnasia. In Denmark every rural school has its teachers' house with kitchen garden and flower garden. The schoolmaster and his assistants live on the school grounds. The institution is not a place deserted for all but a few hours in the day; it is rather a permanent residence of community leaders. Little wonder that the Denmark schoolmaster holds his place year after year. It is not unusual for a principal to devote his whole life to one or two communities. Throughout Germany practically the same system prevails with the same results in educational efficiency and com- munity leadership. In France every rural teacher is provided at public expense with living quarters. The same system is well established and is spreading in Sweden, Norway and Finland. In various parts of the United States significant experiments in providing houses for teachers have been made. In Hawaii one-third of the schools have cottages built at public expense. In the state of Washington notable progress has been made in furnishing living quarters for teachers. North Dakota has twenty-two schools equipped in this way. Mississippi, North Carolina, Illinois, Tennessee and Oklahoma have made promis- ing experiments. In St. Louis County, Minnesota, twenty-five rural school teachers live, in groups of two and three, in cottages built and completely furnished at public expense. A teachers' house or school manse is peculiarly necessary to the success of the consolidated rural school which, it is now agreed, is to be the typical country school of the future. There should be built, in connection with the consolidated school on the same grounds with the school building and heated by the same plant, a permanent house for the use of the teaching staff. This building should contain a wholly separate apartment for the principal and his family, living room and bed-rooms for the 1 Adapted from Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, Vol. 67: 167-160, 1010. 352 RURAL SOCIOLOGY women teachers, laundry, kitchens, etc. It should be equipped with a view to providing in the community a model of tasteful and economical domestic furnishing and decoration. The rentals and other charges should be so regulated as to provide for the maintenance, insurance, repairs and renewals of equipment, but not for a sinking-fund. The house should be regarded as a part of the school plant and included in' the regular bond issue for construction. A privately owned manse in Illinois is netting 8 per cent, on an investment of $10,000. The manse has a bearing in several ways upon the educational work of the school. Flowers and vegetable gardens are natural features of school premises which are also residence quarters. The domestic science work of the school can be connected in valuable ways with the practical problems of manse management. The cost accounting offers a capital example of bookkeeping. The use of the school as a community center is widened and its value enhanced. The school as art institution takes on a more vital character in the eyes of the countryside. Most important of all is the effect upon the teacher. Com- fortably heated, well-lighted quarters, comradeship with col- leagues and at the same time personal privacy a satisfying, cooperatively managed table, independence of the petty family rivalries of a small community, a recognized institutional status, combine to attract to the consolidated rural school manse teachers of a type which will put the country school abreast of the modern educational movement. It is futile to preach the gospel of sacri- fice for the cause of rural education. There is no reason why rural teachers should be called upon to sacrifice themselves. They ought not to do it, and they will not do it. The school manse is not a fad, nor a luxury ; it is a fundamental necessity. AGRICULTURE AND THE CURRICULUM 1 EVELYN DEWEY MOST states are now recognizing the necessity for making some effort to promote agricultural stability through the schools. i Adapted from "New Schools for Old," pp. 252-259. Button, N. Y., 1919. THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 353 Since the exodus from farms begins with the young people, legis- latures realize that influences which will affect children directly may result in checking that exodus. They also see that regions where farmers are poor and farm methods backward are the most seriously depleted by cityward migration. It is natural then to think that equipping the children to earn more money on the farm will tend to keep them there. Therefore, they say country schools ought to teach agriculture; and they pass laws making so many hours of study of the subject obligatory during the school year. They are not teachers and it is not their affair to say how it shall be taught ; this important detail is left to the state educational administrators. They in turn find themselves confronted with the duty of laying out a course of study which shall fill up the required number of hours, adopting text-books for the pupils' use and telling every teacher what lessons they shall give, regardless of varying agricultural conditions in the state. If the farmers in the legislature are skeptical of the results of this method of attack, they are still glad to have any attention paid to their profession, and they are usually so vague as to a better way of dealing with the problem that they gladly give their support to such bills. Every country teacher knows the futility of simply going through the required lessons in the agricultural text-book, in order to make better farmers or keep children on the farm. The prejudice against book farm- ing is very general in farming regions. This fact alone dis- counts most of the knowledge that pupils might gain from their lessons. Besides this, the same text-book is used for a whole state, regardless of the particular conditions of soil, climate, mar- kets, etc. ; so that it is entirely a matter of chance if the informa- tion has any application to the agricultural needs of a particular district. A visitor asked the teacher in a typical one-room school if she taught any agriculture or gardening ; the reply was : "No, we are not able to manage any at all." Later the teacher returned to the subject, saying: "Of course we use the lessons in agriculture prescribed in the state curriculum." This indi- cates the value the teachers themselves attach to this type of agricultural teaching if it is not vitalized by the addition of practical work adapted to local conditions. Even if it were desirable to teach grade pupils trades, farm- 354 RURAL SOCIOLOGY ing does not lend itself to the usual state curriculum, or to any prescribed methods. It is a profession, not a mechanical trade where practice in routine acts brings skill, and one set of facts illustrates all its principles. Young children may be able to understand these general principles, but reciting long prescrip- tions for soil treatment under theoretical conditions for crops they have never seen, has no bearing whatever on their future as farmers, and hinders their education as it takes time which might be spent in worth-while work. If there is nothing educational in abstract lessons in agricul- ture, engaging in agriculture with an open mind is an education in itself. City and country teachers alike are agreed in testify- ing to the value of real work in gardens for children of all ages. The work is valuable because through it the children learn so much about the commonest things about them, plants, earth, water and sunshine, not because it teaches them processes which will enable them to earn more money when they grow up. The teaching method which looks to the environment of the child to furnish most of the class-room material makes the teaching of agriculture a necessity. When children learn to understand the things around them and learn the possibilities and rela- tionships of the local environment, there is no danger of train- ing mere technicians, who are capable only of mechanical work, nor yet of developing abstract theorists, whose contact with life is confined to books and ideas. Using the world for a text-book insures the children's being fitted to live in that world efficiently. Since the modern world even in a simple farming district is much too complicated to give one person a grasp of all its phases, the important thing in education is to give every person a good working point of view towards life. Mrs. Harvey believes that there are two essential sides to this point of view, and that it is equally important that pupils acquire them both in their school life. The first is suffi- cient practical knowledge of the industrial and economic life about them from the side of its underlying principles to insure their being able as adults to control their material environment, not to be at its mercy. This work should always be taught with scientific principles and social relationships in mind ; because it is no part of the duty of the public schools of a democracy to give THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 355 trade training. It is their duty to teach so that every one can approach a trade with general skill and critical faculties de- veloped so that he can learn the trade as a whole, not simply one process of it. This involves for a school in an agricultural com- munity, not only theory and practice in gardening and farm- ing, but general book work which will enable the pupil to under- stand the business aspects of farming, its place in national life, markets, buying and selling; the relations of the farmer to the rest of the world. The other side to this point of view is the understanding of the rest of the things in life, which is just as important in a democracy as the ability to earn a living. Every child should have a chance to learn how to think for himself ; how to under- stand national and social aims, how to appreciate beauty and wholesome pleasure, how to be healthy, self-reliant and cour- ageous, and how to find out things for himself. Real work pre- sented in the right way promotes both these phases of efficient social equipment. It no longer becomes necessary to argue the advantages of vocational versus cultural teaching; the teacher can devote her entire time to giving her pupils an education. No demonstration is necessary to prove the place of agriculture in the curriculum of a school which sets out to educate farm children. It belongs there just as much as an adjustment of the program to the climate, or of the seating capacity to the number of pupils. The results of a curriculum made up and starting from the child's environment are sure to be both vocational and cultural. The difference between teaching a trade in school and using the prevailing industrial conditions for 'education, can be demon- strated by a description of Mrs. Harvey's methods of using agriculture in the curriculum of Porter, better than by a more theoretical discussion. From the very first she saw that the children could be brought up to adopt the best farm methods as a matter of course, if their intelligence could be enlisted at the outset. She selected the vegetable and flower gardens as the best point of attack for the school. Owing to conditions in the corn belt little attention has been paid to the garden on the indi- vidual farms. The farmer, busy with the planting, cultivation and harvesting of the larger crops, had come to feel that he 356 RURAL SOCIOLOGY could spare no time for the garden. The work of gardening fell to the lot of the already overworked woman. Usually, there- fore, the plot cultivated was small and the vegetables were few and insufficient in variety and quantity. By enlisting the chil- dren in garden work several purposes were served. The garden serves as a laboratory for teaching the fundamental principles of agriculture. The children find a healthy summer occupation, and those who are too young for the heavier farm work are unconsciously acquiring knowledge and skill which is certain to make farm life attractive and satisfying to them eventually while it gives them an immediate consciousness of and pride in adding to the family comfort and in saving "mother's" strength. School gardening can be made a valuable adjunct to country schools in the corn belt because of its educative value to the child and its effect upon the community as well. In truck grow- ing regions some other form of agricultural work should be employed because children are pressed into service at home so young that gardens lose their educational value. In using the environment, emphasis must always be put upon the principles involved and immediate things should be used as stepping stones to more remote things. The gardening work was in no sense supposed to react immediately upon family incomes by pro- ducing vegetables that could be sold; but was expected to react indirectly through the added understanding of agricultural principles and through a raised standard of living. Through the school garden the child at an age when he is forming tastes and habits for life can learn all the fundamentals of farming in which he is expected to take an interest later on. THE MOONLIGHT SCHOOLS OF KENTUCKY 1 CORA WILSON STEWART THE various impressions which have prevailed throughout the country in regard to moonlight schools have been amusing in- deed. Some have imagined them to be schools where children studied and played and scampered on the green like fairies in the moonlight. Others have believed them to be ideal courting i Adapted from Survey, Vol. 35: 429-31, Jan., 1916. THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 357 schools, where lovers strolled arm in arm, quoted poetry, and told the old, old story by the light of a bewitching moon. Others have speculated upon their being schools where moonshiners, youthful and aged, were instructed in the most scientific methods of extracting the juice from the corn, and, at the same time, the most secretive, to prevent government interference. When I was superintendent of Rowan county (Kentucky) schools, I served as secretary to a number of illiterate folk a mistaken kindness. I ought to have been teaching them to read and write. Among these folk was a woman whose children had grown up without education, except one daughter, who had had limited schooling. She had gone to Chicago, and there had profited by that one advantage at least which the city possesses over the rural district, the night school. Her letters were the only source of joy that came into that aged mother's life, and the drafts which they contained were the only means of reliev- ing her necessities. Often she brought the daughter's letters over the hill, seven miles, to the county seat, for me to read and answer for her. After an absence of some six weeks, she came in one morning fondling a letter. I anticipated her mission, and said: "A let- ter from your daughter ? Shall I read and answer it for you ? ' ' With dignity and pride, she replied: "I. kin answer it fer myself I 've lamed to read and write. ' ' In amazement I questioned her, and this is the story she told : ' * Sometimes I couldn 't get over here to see you and the ' cricks ' would be up between me and the neighbors, or the neighbors would be away from home, and I could not get a letter read and answered for three or four days ; and, anyway, it jist seemed like thar wuz a wall 'twixt Jane and me all the time, and I wanted to read with my own eyes what she had writ with her own hand. So I went to a store and I bought me a speller, and I sot up at nights till midnight, and sometimes till daylight and I learned to read and write. ' ' And to demonstrate her accomplishment, she slowly spelled out the words of that precious letter, and she sat down and, under my direction, answered it wrote her first letter, an achievement which pleased her immeasurably, and one which must have pleased the absent Jane still more. 358 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Shortly after this, there came into my office one morning a middle-aged man, handsome and intelligent in appearance. While waiting for me to dispatch the business in hand, I gave him two books. He fingered the leaves hurriedly, like a child, turned the books over and looked at the backs, and laid them down with a sigh. Knowing the scarcity of interesting reading through the country, I proffered him the loan of these two books. He shook his head, and said: "No, I cannot read or write." And then the tears came into the eyes of that stalwart man, and he added: "I would give twenty years of my life if I could." A few evenings later I attended an entertainment in a rural district school. A stalwart lad of twenty sang a beautiful bal- lad, mostly original, but partly borrowed from his English an- cestors. When he finished, amid deafening applause, I went over and congratulated him. "Dennis, that was a beautiful bal- lad it is worthy of publication. Will you write it down for me?" "I would if I could write," he replied, crestfallen, "but I cannot. I've thought of a hundred of 'em better 'n that, but I 'd forget 'em before anybody came along to set 'em down. ' ' These three incidents led directly to the establishment of the moonlight schools. Not merely the call of three individuals was sounded, but the appeal of three classes: illiterate mothers sep- arated from their absent children farther than sea or land or any other condition than death; middle-aged men shut out from the world of books and unable to cast their ballot with intelligence and in secrecy and security ; young people who possess undevel- oped talents which might yet be made to contribute much to the world of literature, art, science or invention. The public school teachers of the county were called together. These specific incidents were related to them, and the fact that there were 1,152 such men and women whom the schools of the past had left behind was dwelt upon. The teachers were asked to volunteer for night service, to open their schools on moonlight evenings to give these people a chance. This they cheerfully agreed to do, and on Labor Day, Septem- ber 4, 1911, these teachers celebrated by visiting every farm- house and every hovel, inviting people of all classes to attend the moonlight schools which were to open their sessions the next THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 359 evening. They expected some response and hoped for from one to three pupils in attendance at each school perhaps one hun- dred and fifty the county over. These country folk had all the excuses that any toil-worn people ever had. There were rugged roads to travel, high hills to climb, streams without bridges to cross, children to lead, and babes to carry; but they were not seeking excuses, they were seeking knowledge. And so they came. They came, some singly and alone; they came hurrying in groups; they came trav- eling for miles; they came carrying babes in arms; they came bent with age and leaning on canes; they came 1,200 strong. The youngest student was eighteen, and the oldest eight3 r -six. Some learned to write their names the first evening, and some required two evenings for this feat. Their joy in this achieve- ment, simple though it was, is beyond the power of pen to de- scribe. They wrote their names on trees, fences, posts, barns, barrel-staves, and every available scrap of paper. Those who possessed even meager means drew it out of hiding and deposited it in bank, writing their checks and signing their names with childish pride. Letters soon began to go to loved ones in other counties and far distant states. Usually the first of these letters came to the office of the county superintendent. Romantic in the history of this move- ment is the fact that the first three letters written from the moonlight schools came in this order: the first from a mother who had children absent in the West ; the second from the man who had said he would give twenty years of his life if he could read and write, and the third from the boy who would forget his ballads before anybody came along to set them down. Educators were skeptical of the plan, and freely predicted that after the novelty had worn off, the interest would wane. But in the second session, the first year's record was surpassed in every particular: 1,600 were enrolled, 350 learned to read and write, and a man eighty-seven years old entered and put to shame the record of the proud il school-girl" of eighty-six of the year before. There were many incidents of really remarkable individual de- velopment. A man who had labored for years at $1.50 a day enrolled, specializing in mathematics in that particular branch 360 RURAL SOCIOLOGY in which he was interested, lumbering. At the end of the six- weeks' session he was promoted at a salary double that which he had received before. It was not unusual in traveling over the county to find in the day schools here and there, after the moon- light schools had closed, a man or a woman seated at the desk with a child. In March, 1913, the teachers of Rowan county met in the office of the county superintendent and declared their determination to wipe illiteracy out of that county that year. First, the school trustees were induced to take a census of the illiterates. When this was completed, an illiteracy record was made. On the rec- ord was not only the name and the age of every illiterate in the county, but his history as well: his home environment, family ties, religious faith, political belief, weaknesses, tastes and pe- culiarities, and the influence or combination of influences through which he might be reached in case the teacher failed with him. Each teacher was given a list of the illiterates in her district when she opened her day school. She called on these people and cultivated their acquaintance before the moonlight schools began their sessions. The home department of the moonlight schools was established that year, in which the indifferent, the disin- clined, the stubborn and the decrepit were taught by the teacher or by some one under the teacher's direction at home. "One for every one," was the slogan which brought into service doc- tors, who could teach their convalescent patients ; ministers who might find a pupil among the members of their flocks; stenog- raphers who could interest waitresses in the small-town hotels, and any others who would seek and teach a pupil. Each dis- trict was striving to be the first to completely stamp out illit- eracy. We tried, by every means, fair and foul, to get illiteracy out of the county to the last individual. At the close of the third session, we had but a straggling few who could not read and write twenty-three in all, mainly defectives, invalids and the blind. Meanwhile, the moonlight schools had been extended to twenty- five other counties in the state, and whether it was in distillery section or among the tenant class, or in mining region or among the farmers, it was ever with the same results. Men and women THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 361 thronged to the schools, striving to make up for the time they had lost, and they pleaded for a longer term when the session closed. The Governor of Kentucky, seeing the determined warfare which was being waged against illiteracy, urged in his message to the legislature that an Illiteracy Commission be created to drive illiteracy from the state. The measure creating this com- mission passed the legislature of 1914 without a dissenting vote, and the seat of the war against illiteracy in Kentucky was trans- ferred from the Court House in the county seat of Rowan to the state capitol at Frankfort. The commission is directing the state-wide campaign to remove illiteracy from Kentucky by the time the census of 1920 is taken. One of the first activities of the Illiteracy Commission was to enlist the various organizations in the state to aid the teachers in their warfare on illiteracy. The Kentucky Educational As- sociation was induced to pass a resolution expressing commenda- tion and pledging its support. The Kentucky Press Association was approached for assistance, which was cheerfully given. The Kentucky Federation of Women's Clubs, the Society of Colonial Dames, and other organizations, were among those to early lend their aid. Governor James B. Mc^Creery of Kentucky issued, in Septem- ber, 1914, the first proclamation against illiteracy in the history of the world, urging all classes to join in the fight. Again, in 1915, he issued a similar proclamation. Kentucky has celebrated "no illiteracy" Sunday in October, for the past two successive years. A galaxy of one hundred and twenty speakers covered the state during the summer of 1915, condemning the evils of illiteracy and advocating moonlight schools as a remedy. These speakers consisted of the governor, state officials, United States senators, congressmen, judges of the court of appeals, circuit judges, prominent educators and club women. Moonlight school graduates have been asked to volunteer to teach at least one to read and write. Individuals and organiza- tions have offered prizes to stimulate teachers in their moonlight schoolwork. A teacher who has taught sixty-two illiterates dur- ing a session this year believes that he is very close to the $100 state prize. Yet he, like thousands of other volunteer teachers, 362 RURAL SOCIOLOGY trudges back to the school at night with no thought of reward, save that of the joy of service and the emancipation of those en- slaved in the bondage of illiteracy. Kentucky will owe her public school teachers a debt that can never be estimated when they shall have wiped out her illiteracy, which they propose to do by 1920, and in many counties will do even before that time. That county in the state which has the largest percentage of illiteracy has taught 1,000 persons in the moonlight schools this year to read and write, while many coun- ties have taught two and three hundred, besides raising the standard of education of many semi-illiterates and others who have enrolled. The moonlight school curriculum embraces more than read- ing and writing: It includes arithmetic, history, geography, civics, agriculture, horticulture, home economics and road build- ing. A special method of writing is taught a moonlight school tablet, with indented letters for acquiring the form, and ruled sheets with wide spaces, designed especially for adult pupils. Readers have also been prepared for such beginners, dealing with roads, silos, seed-testing, crop rotation, piping water into the house, value of the daily bath, extermination of the fly, ways of cooking, and such problems as the people are facing every day. For example, a lesson on roads reads : This is a road. It is a good road. It will save my time. It will save my team. It will save my wagon. The good road is my friend. I will work for the good road. The script lessons follows: "I will work for the good road," which pledge the student writes ten times, and if the law of suggestion works, he becomes truly a friend and promoter of good roads. Moonlight schools are conducted in seventeen states, Okla- homa, Alabama and North Carolina following closely Kentucky 's lead. These schools minister equally to illiterate Indians in THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 363 Oklahoma, illiterate negroes in Alabama, and illiterate whites in North Carolina and other states. California and New Mexico, the last states to adopt the institution, are finding it useful in the education of the immigrant population of the one, and the large Mexican population of the other. There are 5,516,163 illiterates in this country, according to the federal census of 1910 more than the entire population of Denmark, also more than the population of Sweden or Norway, and of several other prosperous countries. Some countries thrive, support churches, schools and industries on the number of people that America is permitting to go to waste. Illiteracy in the United States is largely a rural problem ; it exists in rural districts in double the proportion found in urban communities. Until the moonlight school was established, there was absolutely no provision for the education of illiterate adults in rural sec- tions, and there is none in urban districts now, save the city night school, which receives illiterate foreigners, but in most cities, at least, does not coax or compel them to attend. It is the privilege of American public school teachers to wipe out America's illiteracy. Back to the school-house twenty to twenty-four evenings, and, with proper organization, the deed is done ; for experience has proved that all but abnormal adults can escape from illiteracy in a month's time, and some in even less. Could there be more valiant and heroic service to humanity than the stamping out of illiteracy, the most insidious foe of the nation ? A NATIONAL PROGRAM FOR EDUCATION * (A statement issued by the National Education Association Commission on the emergency in education and the program for readjustment during and after the war.) THE time has clearly come when we in America must think and plan for education on a scale commensurate with the magni- tude of the task that lies before us and in terms consistent with i Adapted from Commission Series No. 1, pp. 10-20; National Educa- tion Association, Washington, D. C., June, 1918. 364 RURAL SOCIOLOGY the obligations that the coming generations will be called upon to discharge. Heretofore our educational policies have been con- fined and cramped by the narrow boundaries of our local units of school taxation and control. Our conception of education has been essentially a neighborhood conception. This principle of local responsibility for the support and control of schools has undeniable elements of strength. It is an expression of that will to independence, self-reliance, and individual initiative which constitutes so striking a quality of American democracy. It must not and need not be sacrificed. But while the interests of the local community must still be the determining factor in school organization and administration, events are rapidly teaching us that our local interests are genuine interests only when framed in harmony with our national needs and our international obliga- tions and responsibilities. There can, then, be no fundamental antagonism between local and national needs. There are certain phases of public educa- tion with which the federal government may properly concern itself to the immediate and permanent advantage of the schools, and with an effect upon local initiative and local control that will be stimulating and salutary. Indeed, the outstanding weak- nesses and inequities of our public schools to-day are such as to make their reform on a national scale impossible without federal cooperation, and here as elsewhere in a true democracy it is to cooperation and not to domination that we must look for the solution of our problems. It is futile to speak of our public schools as the bulwark of American democracy when tens of thousands of the teachers in these schools are only sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, or nineteen years old ; when more than one hundred thousand are less than twenty-two years old ; when more than a quarter of a million have not passed the age of twenty-five. There are no fewer than five million children in the United States to-day whose teachers have not passed the age of twenty- one, and whose teachers have themselves had as preparation for their responsible work not more than one, two, or rarely three or four years of education beyond the eighth grade of the com- mon schools. Every six or seven years these five million children are replaced by another group equally numerous, subject to the THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 365 same limited opportunities for instruction and guidance. In the course of a single generation, these groups now aggregating twenty million men and women will be among the voting citi- zens of the nation. The intelligence that directs their skill and industry will be an important factor in determining the nation's wealth. The ideas and ideals which were impressed upon them in school will form the background against which they will interpret and evaluate the nation's policies. Their judgment, guiding their votes, may make or mar the nation's destiny. It is in the little schools of the villages and the rural districts that the youngest, most experienced, and least well-trained teach- ers are to be found. Little schools they are individually, but large in the aggregate and big with national significance, for in them more than one-half of the nation's children are enrolled. And of all phases of the teaching service that which is repre- sented by these rural and village schools is the most exacting, the most arduous, and in many ways the most responsible. While the teacher of the graded city school instructs a single group of children approximately equal in age and attainment, the rural teacher must cover a wide range of subjects with many groups, adapting himself, a score of times each day, to the vary- ing levels of growth and attainment. While the city teacher is helped by expert principals and supervisors, the rural teacher is all but absolutely isolated, and must supply through his own initiative, enthusiasm, and resourcefulness many of the elements of good teaching that one working in an urban community gains through contact with his fellows. And yet the environment of these small and isolated schools is in many ways the best that could be provided for the education of boys and girls. The equipment of libraries, shops, and labora- tories may be lacking, but potential resources in abundance lie round about. What is needed is the mind to interpret them and translate their lessons. But this is the hardest kind of teaching, far harder than to assign lessons in books and hear recitations. It is a kind of teaching that requires knowledge, insight, and skill to be obtained only through a broad and thorough training followed by a faithful and carefully super- vised apprenticeship. Nor does this tell the whole story of the possibilities and diffi- 366 RURAL SOCIOLOGY culties of rural-school teaching. The right man or the right woman in this office may become a real leader in the community, knowing its people intimately and sympathetically. Under his or her tactful direction, the schoolhouse may become a true com- munity center, enriching the social life with a round of whole- some activities. It would be hard indeed to overestimate what two hundred thousand mature, well trained, and permanently employed teachers in these small schools would mean both to rural America and to the nation as a whole. They could do for America and American democracy what the village dominies have done for Scotland and what the rural schoolmasters have done for Denmark and Norway. They could make these lonely outposts of culture what they should be, strategic centers of na- tional strength and national idealism for outposts though they may be in one sense, in another and a deeper sense these little schools, of all our educational institutions, are closest to what is formative and virile and abiding in our national life. The urban centers are not wholly blameless for this neglect of the rural school. They have required in general higher standards of maturity and preparation for their teachers, but they have fallen far short of recognizing public-school service as a worthy profession or of setting a standard of recognition and rewards that might well have had a stimulating effect upon the outlying rural districts. By limiting its teaching-appointments especially in the elementary schools to young women living with their parents in the home community, the typical American city has been able to recruit its teachers at the smallest possible wage. The effect of this upon the development of a true professional spirit among the teachers can be readily conjectured. It has kept the standards of professional preparation deplorably low, it has encouraged young women to enter the work of teaching merely as a temporary occupation, and in many cases it has led the public to look upon teaching-appointments, not as positions of trust and honor, but as jobs to be distributed, either to the deserving poor or to those who can enlist "influence" in their behalf. Again it is beside the point to say that there are communities that have risen far beyond this primitive estimate of the teacher's work. There are many such communities, it is true, but their THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 367 influence again has been local and circumscribed. It has not sufficed to raise the general level of the teacher's calling. It is not, indeed, through individual and local advances that the na- tion's problem is to be solved. There is, in fact, but one way in which the evils that are in- herent in the transient and unprofessional character of the gen- eral teaching population can be remedied, and that is the crea- tion of conditions that will make teaching throughout the length and breadth of the land, a permanent occupation, a real career. Larger appropriations for teachers' salaries are needed, and in view of the alarming shortage in the supply of teachers and the decreasing attendance upon the normal schools, such appro- priations should certainly be made at once if a situation worse than that which exists to-day is to be avoided. But higher sal- aries alone will not solve the problem. What is needed at basis is a different conception of the teacher's work, and what is needed first of all is an adequate appreciation of the importance of a thoroughgoing preparation for its responsibilities. It cannot be a source of pride to our people that the United States gives less attention to the training of teachers than does any other great nation. It cannot be a matter of pride to our people that, of all our professional institutions, those who have been intrusted with the preparation of teachers for the public schools are the most penuriously supported and the least attrac- tive to ambitious youth. Nor can these normal schools with their inadequate support supply more than a fraction of the teachers annually needed for the public schools. Their total output each year is scarcely enough for the needs of the urban communities, leaving the rural and village schools almost entirely dependent upon un- trained recruits. In a typical state a state that is perhaps mid- way between the most progressive and the most backward edu- cationally 80 per cent, of the rural-school teachers this year are boys and girls fresh from the eighth grade of the common schools and even under these inadequate standards this state reports a shortage in teachers, so keen is the demand for their services in other occupations. For the national government generously to cooperate with the states, first in meeting the emergency which is drawing so many 368 RURAL SOCIOLOGY teachers away from the schools, and then in supporting institu- tions and agencies for the preparation of competent teachers, would be to rake at once the status of the teaching profession and thereby enhance the efficiency of the schools throughout the land. Without encroaching upon the autonomy of the several states, such cooperation would recognize in a most effective way the dependence of the nation's welfare upon the public schools and the significance of the teacher's service to the nation's life. The country child to-day is at a distinct disadvantage educa- tionally as compared with the city child. Not only are his teachers immature, transient, and untrained, but his term of schooling in the average of cases is from one to three months shorter each year, and from two to three years shorter in its entirety. Attendance laws are often laxly enforced or not en- forced at all. The expert supervision, which could do something to offset the immaturity and lack of training upon the part of the teachers, is practically non-existent. The course of study is ill-adjusted to the needs of rural life. For fifty years and more the difficulties of the rural school situation have constituted the most serious and perplexing prob- lem of American education. During all of these years courageous efforts have been made throughout the country to find a solution of this problem. While these efforts have enlisted the service of hundreds of competent and devoted leaders, they cannot be said as yet to have done more than touch the surface. When one remembers that one-half of the nation's children are en- rolled in the rural and village schools it is not difficult to under- stand why the largest advances have been at best only local and sporadic. The problem is of too vast a magnitude to be af- fected fundamentally by anything short of a great national movement. The time for that movement has clearly come. At basis the difficulty is economic and social rather than edu- cational. If the country child is to have opportunities for schooling equivalent to those provided for the city child, pro- portionately more money must be spent on the country schools than on the city schools. The one-room, ungraded schools are small schools, and the ratio of teachers to pupils is necessarily high. The consolidation of the one-room schools will reduce this ratio and make for economy; but consolidation is impossible in THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 369 some districts, and even where it is practicable, the consolidated school, pupil for pupil, will always be more expensive to oper- ate than the city school. Not only must the cost of transporta- tion be met, but expert teachers for these schools must be paid higher salaries than are demanded by teachers of the same ability and training in the city schools. Indeed, in the few states where a consistent effort has been made to furnish the country child with teachers as well qualified as those in the city schools, it has been found necessary to increase the rural teachers' sal- aries from 10 to 20 per cent, above the city level. As long as schools are supported entirely or almost entirely by local taxation, then, it is clear that the country child cannot have the educational advantages of the city child. The per capita wealth of the rural districts, taking the country as a whole, is very far below the per capita wealth of the urban dis- tricts. School funds raised by general state taxation and dis- tributed to the local communities in proportion to their educa- tional needs have done something to reduce these inequalities, but except in a very few cases the state funds are so meager that their influence is almost negligible. It is again the narrow neighborhood conception of educational responsibility that has stood squarely in the way of progress. In general, each local community has been educationally self- sufficient. The American people have accepted the principle that it is just and equitable to tax individuals in proportion to their wealth for the education of all the children of the com- munity. They have not as yet followed the course of reasoning to its logical conclusion. They have n-> ; thoroughly accepted the equally sound principle that it is just and equitable to tax communities in proportion to their wealth for the education of all the children of the state. Combined with the neighborhood conception of educational re- sponsibility as a handicap to progress is a tendency still to think of the public school as an essentially philanthropic enterprise. In the arguments for increased funds for school support, the value of education to the individual and the disadvantage under which the individual suffers when he is denied educational privileges have had a preponderant place. ' The claims of the state and of the nation for an enlightened citizenship have been 370 RURAL SOCIOLOGY recognized, it is true, but largely in a perfunctory way. At basis the appeal has been to philanthropy and has laid its chief emphasis upon the injustice of denying to the children of the poor the advantages that the children of the rich enjoy. It is in no sense derogatory to our people that they have sup- ported and extended educational opportunities primarily from this essentially philanthropic motive ; but the exclusive appeal to this motive has been unfortunate. It has intensified the lo- calism of education. It has led the richer communities to self- satisfaction with their own educational efforts on the ground that they were doing their best for all the children within their own borders. If children beyond their borders were less well circumstanced the richer communities might lament the fact, but they could hardly be expected to divide their wealth and their advantages with their less fortunate neighbors. Thus the fact that American communities are interdependent educationally as well as commercially and industrially has been obscured. That the wealth and prosperity of a great city are directly re- lated to the prosperity of its tributary area is clear to all. That the prosperity of this tributary area depends upon the intelli- gence of its inhabitants, that the schools of this area should be matters of concern to those who have the city's prosperity at heart, and that the city has an obligation to the outlying dis- tricts from which its wealth has been derived, these are truths not so readily grasped. It has indeed taken the experiences of the past year to drive home this basic fact of educational interdependence. It has taken the crisis of the great war to prove convincingly that there can be no such thing as an American community that lives to itself alone, whether in industry, in politics, or in edu- cation. With seven hundred thousand illiterate young men sub- ject to the draft, the educational backwardness of any single district or area becomes at once a matter of national concern. Modern warfare is a conflict in which mental efficiency and physical efficiency combine to play the leading roles, and even the kind o~ physical efficiency which modern warfare demands is the intelligent kind the counterpart of adequate knowledge and clear thinking. The war has revealed all this with startling clearness. It is THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 371 for us now to generalize the lesson. If the safety of democracy in a time of great crisis is so clearly dependent upon a high level of enlightened intelligence, we may be sure that the passing of the crisis will not change this fundamental condition. The rural and village schools are by far the weakest links in the educational chain. There is no way in which these links can be strengthened save through expenditures vastly greater than the local communities can supply. General state taxation has already proved itself inadequate to a solution of the problem on a national scale. The welfare of the nation itself is more inti- mately bound up with the intelligence of that majority of its children now enrolled in the rural and village schools than with any other single factor. Federal cooperation in the sup- port and development of rural education is clearly and un- equivocally the only solution of the problem. THE CONSOLIDATED SCHOOL AS A COMMUNITY CENTER 1 JOHN H. COOK THE consolidated school ministers to the educational needs of a larger community than is served by the one-room school. A minimum number of interested people are essential to an abid- ing interest in a social community center. The number of patrons in the sub-district school is below the minimum, while the consolidated school may have sufficient numbers to main- tain this interest. Many forms of community recreation and activity are made possible by the support of this larger num- ber. Among such activities may be mentioned lecture courses, interscholastic contests, both athletic and intellectual, home- talent plays, farmers' institutes and extension schools, and other entertainments of various sorts. Talented leadership is indispensable to success in making an institution a social or community center. There is a dearth of leadership in the one-room school district unit, owing to small numbers and the lack of interest of the natural leaders of the i Adapted from Publications American Sociological Society, XI : 97-105, 1916. 372 RURAL SOCIOLOGY community in the one-room school. For the class from which leaders are recruited is composed partly of those parents who are divided in school interests on account of children attending foreign high schools and partly of those who hold in entire dis- dain the inferior schools of the community. The functions held in the one-room school are not likely even to secure the patron- izing presence of those whose standing and attainments fit them for leadership. Without the hearty cooperation of the nat- ural leaders of a community no institution can be a successful social center. The consolidated or centralized school offers bountiful op- portunity for the extension of mutual acquaintance among the residents of a rural community. Children from distant por- tions of the township form friendships which tend to create ties of interest in the parents. One resident of a centralized district describes the results of centralization in extending ac- quaintance thus : . ' ' Before the schools were centralized my son seemed to know no one when we rode about the township. Now as we ride about, a boy or girl will yell, 'Hello, Sammy/ or wave greetings from a distance. When I inquire, 'Who is this ? ' he often gives names entirely unfamiliar to me. Through my son I have become acquainted with many excellent people whom, otherwise, I would have never known. ' ' This is a typical experience. Another beneficent result, permanent in effect, will be the formation of lasting friendships among the citizens of the fu- ture. This will more than neutralize the disintegrating forces resulting from changed industrial conditions. Not only does the centralized school offer a wider acquaintanceship than is offered by the one-room school, but in addition a longer period of acquaintance is offered by the consolidated schools. The high school will continue the associations of childhood through the adolescent period. These constructive features of the consoli- dated school do not exist in the one-room school or in any other rural institution except the consolidated school. Another service offered by the consolidated school is of far- reaching effect in the social life of rural communities. Rural folks have long been characterized by bashf ulness and the lack of capacity for social enjoyment. This is caused largely by lack of THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 373 opportunity to play in childhood. Schools should develop the social power of pupils as well as their mental power. Social power, like other powers, can be developed only by its growth through exercise in a favorable environment. In the one-room school, where a child meets with only one or two of his own age and where wholesome play and social enjoyment are lacking, there can be no development of the social power. The habits thus formed are difficult to overcome in after-life ; for the social powers of the pupils in such an environment are stunted. The consolidated school offers a wider acquaintance and a higher standard of social behavior. School activities stimulated by a commendable school spirit will establish the habit of cooperation. Thus, the increased social opportunities offered by the consoli- dated school will lay the foundations of a higher type of social activities in the rural communities of the future, so that the cul- tured classes of the community will be glad to cooperate in the social uplift of all. In the consolidated or centralized school there is also a better opportunity to secure constructive leadership from among the teachers. The consolidated school with its high school depart- ment demands better trained and better prepared teachers than does the typical one-room school which is content with a teacher who has a modicum of scholarship, training, and initiative. The college graduate who teaches in the high school and the normal graduate who teaches in the grades offer better material for leadership by reason of their scholarship, their special training, and their social experience. In the corps of teachers of the consolidated school, there is usually one who has specialized in music and who is capable of teaching and drilling children, so that appropriate music, an essential of all community gatherings, may be furnished by the children of the parents of the community. Under the direction of the domestic science teacher the pupils of the school may dem- onstrate the quality of their work in the culinary art to the satisfaction and pride of parents and friends. The one-room school system is defective in providing capable leadership from among its teachers. The consolidated school need not be handi- capped by this defect, as it has opportunity to provide fit ma- terial from among its corps of high-class teachers. 374 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Suitable buildings and adequate equipment are necessary for modern community centers. A well-lighted and well-arranged auditorium, a piano, a library and reading-room, a gymnasium for winter functions, and financial backing sufficient for the maintenance of these essentials are needed in a modern com- munity center. A modern consolidated school usually provides the requisites mentioned above. If not, because of the union of financial resources that obtains in a consolidated school dis- trict, these things may usually be provided without financial strain. Community meetings held under favorable conditions will secure a larger attendance and greater enjoyment than when held in buildings poorly arranged, badly lighted, and scantily equipped. AVhen meetings with helpful, interesting, and ele- vating programs are held in a properly equipped building under competent management in connection with an institution in which all are interested, there can be no serious doubt as to the successful future of such efforts. BIBLIOGRAPHY Betts, G. H., and Hall, Otis E. Better Rural Schools. Bobbs-Merrill, Indianapolis, 1914. Betts, G. H. New Ideals in Rural Schools. Houghton, Boston, 1913. Brittain, H. L. Report of the Ohio State School Survey Commission. Published by State of Ohio, Columbus, 1914. Brown, H. A. The Readjustment of a Rural High School to the Needs of the Community. Bui. 20, U. S. Bureau of Education, 1912. Burnham, Ernest. Rural School Efficiency in Kalamazoo County, Mich. Bui. 4, 1909, published by State Supt. of Public Instruc- tion, Lansing-, Mich. Two Types of Rural Schools with Some Facts Showing Economic and Social Conditions. Teachers College, Columbia Univ., N. Y., 1912. Rural Teacher Preparation in State Normal Schools. U. S. Bur. of Ed. Bui., 1918, No. 27. Government Printing Office, Washington. Carney, Mabel. Country Life and the Country School. Row, Chi- cago, 1912. Gary, C. P. Rural School Board Conventions. National Education Assn. Proceedings, 1907, pp. 288-290. Cook, Katherine M., and Monahan, A. C. Rural School Supervision, U. S. Bureau of Education, Bui. 48, 1916. Cotton, F. A., and O'Shea, M. V., and Larson, W. E. Consolidation of School Districts. Bui. 17, Supt. of Public Instruction, Mad- ison, Wis., 1912. Crocheron, B. H., and others. The Rural School as a Community Cen- ter. The Tenth Yearbook of National Society for the Study of Education, Part II, Univ. of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1911. THE COUNTRY SCHOOL 375 Crosby, Dick J., and Crocheron, B. H. Community Work in the Rural lliuh School, U. S. Department of Agriculture, Yearbook, 1910, pp. 177-88. Cubberley, E. P. The Improvement of Rural Schools. Houghton, Boston, 1912. Rural Life and Education. Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston, 1914. State and County Educational Reorganization. Macmillau, N. Y., 1915. Cubberley, E. P., and Elliott, E. C. State and County School Admin- istration. Vol. II, Source Book, Macmillan, N. Y., 1915. Cutler, H. M., and Stone, Julia M. The Rural School, its Methods and Management. Silver, N. Y., 1913. Davenport, E. Education for Efficiency. Heath, N. Y., 1909. Davis, E. E. A Study of Rural Schools in Travis County, Texas. Univ. of Texas, Bui. 07, Austin, 1910. Dewey, Evelyn. New Schools for Old. Dutton, N. Y., 1919. Dewey, John. Democracy and Education. Macmillan, N. Y., 1916. Dresslar, F. B. Rural Schoolhouses and Grounds. U. S. Bureau of Education, Bui. 12, 1914. Eggleston, J. D., and Bruere, R. W. The Work of the Rural School. Harper, N. Y., 1913. Field, Jessie. The Corn Lady. Flanagan, Chicago, 1911. Foght, H. W. The American Rural School. Macmillan, N. Y., 1910. Rural Denmark and its Schools. Macmillan, N. Y., 1915. The Rural Teacher and His Work in Community Leadership. In School Administration, and in Mastery of the School Subjects. Macmillan, N. Y., 1917. The Rural School System of Minnesota. U. S. Bureau of Education, Bui. 20, 1915. Frost, N. A Statistical Study of the Public Schools of the Southern Appalachian Mountains. U. S. Bureau of Education, Bui. 11, 1915. Hamilton, John. The Township High School. Pennsylvania Dept. of Agriculture, Bui. 21, Harrisburg, 1897. Hart, Joseph K. Educational Resources of Village and Rural Com- munities. Macmillan, N. Y., 1913. Hart, W. R. The Work of the Massachusetts Agricultural College for the Schools of Massachusetts. Mass. Agric. College Extension Service, Facts for Farmers, Vol. 3, No. 6, Amherst, 1913. Hockenberry, John C. The Rural School in the United States. Pub- lished by author, Westfield, Mass., 1908. Johnson, A. A. County Schools of Agriculture and Domestic Econ- omy in Wisconsin. Bui. 242, Office of Experimental Stations, U. S. D. A., 1911. Kennedy, Joseph. Rural Life and the Rural School. American, N. Y./1915. Kern, 0. J. Among Country Schools. Ginn, Boston, 1906. Larson, W. E., and others. Social and Civic Work in Country Com- munities. Bui. 18, State Supt. of Public Instruction, Madison, Wis., 1913. Larson, W. E. The Wisconsin County Training Schools for Teachers in Rural Schools. U. S. Bureau of Education, Bui. 17, 1916. 376 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Lewis, Howard P. The Rural School and the Community. Badger, Boston, 1918. Miller, James C. Rural Schools in Canada. Teachers College, Colum- bia Univ., N. Y., 1913. Monahan, A. C. Consolidation of the Rural Schools. Bui. 604, U. S. Bureau of Education, 1915. The Status of Rural Education in the United States. U. S. Bureau of Education, Bui. 8, 1913. Monahan, A. C., and Wright, R. H. Training Courses for Rural Teachers. U. S. Bureau of Education, 2, 1913. Murphy, C. R. Country and Town Students in High Schools. (A comparative study of the work done in high schools by pupils who did their first eight years' work in rural schools and those who did it in town schools. ) Amer. School Board Journal, 52 : 25, 26, February, 1916. Pickard, A. E. Rural Education a Complete Course of Study for Modern Rural Schools. Webb, St. Paul, 1915. Preliminary Report of the Committee of Fifteen Appointed by the State Superintendent of Schools to Investigate Educational Needs and Conditions in Wisconsin. State Supt. of Public Instruction, Madison, Wis., 1912. Report of the Committee on Industrial Education in Schools for Rural Communities. National Education Assn., Winona, Minn., 1905. Reynolds, Annie. The Training of Teachers for the Country Schools of Wisconsin. State Supt. of Public Instruction of Wisconsin, Madison, 1917. Ryan, Bridget A. A Redirected Rural School. Mass. Agric. College Extension Service, Bui. 6, Amherst, 1916. Seerley, Homer H. The Country School. Scribner, N. Y., 1913. Sims, J. F., and Phelan, John. The Normal Schools and Rural Edu- cation. Normal Schools of Wisconsin Bui., Board of Regents of Normal Schools, Madison, 1912. Stern, Rence B. Neighborhood Entertainments. Sturgis, N. Y., 1910. The Negro Rural School and Its Relation to the Community. Pam- phlet issued by Extension Dept., Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute, Tuskegee, Ala., 1915. Ward, Edward J. The Social Center. Appleton, N. Y., 1913. Warren, Burton, (edited by Clifton Johnson), The District School as It Was. Lee, Boston, 1897. Waugh, F. A. Country School Grounds. Mass. Agric. College Ex- tension Service, Amherst, 1914. White, E. V., and Davis, E. E. A Study of Rural Schools in Texas. Univ. of Texas, Bui. 364k, Austin, 1914. Williams, J. H. Reorganizing a County System of Rural Schools. U. S. Bureau of Education, Bui. 16, 1916. Wilkinson, William Albert. Rural School Management. Silver, N. Y., 1917. Wray, Angelina W. Jean Mitchell's School. Public-School Publish- ing Co., Bloomington, 111., 1915. CHAPTER XIV OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES EDUCATION THROUGH FARM DEMONSTRATION l BRADFORD KNAPP IN 1903-04 Congress made an appropriation authorizing work to counteract the ravages of the Mexican cotton boll weevil in Texas and other cotton states. This insect pest was laying waste the cotton fields of the Southwest, leaving abandoned farms and business failures in its wake. A small portion of the funds so appropriated was devoted to a work conducted by the late Dr. Seaman A. Knapp to enable him to try out his method of teach- ing by conducting a large number of demonstrations on farms as described above. Dr. Knapp was then seventy years of age. He had been a stock farmer in Iowa in the '70 's, and afterwards Professor of Agriculture and President of the Iowa Agricultural College. lie had come to the South in 1885 and had devoted a great deal of his time to the development of the rice industry in Louisiana. In that work and in some of his work in Iowa he had used simple, direct methods of reaching farmers through practical field examples and, out of that experience, had sug- gested that he be permitted to try his plan of teaching farmers through demonstrations conducted on their own farms. The work was actually begun in January, 1904. The main features consisted of personal visits of the department's repre- sentatives to a large number of farms scattered over the coun- try then seriously affected. Demonstrations were carried on by these farmers under the careful instruction of these representa- tives. At first the work was devoted mainly to improving the cultural methods of raising cotton in order to minimize the damage from the weevil. However, it was soon seen that the i Adapted from Annals of tUe American Academy of Political and Social Science, Vol. 07: 224-240, 191(5. 377 378 RURAL SOCIOLOGY difficulty could be met only by a general campaign of the same character for the purpose of bringing about a diversification of crops and better agricultural practices. The purpose was to bring about such a change that the farmer would not be de- pendent entirely upon cotton for both income and maintenance. Therefore, demonstrations in corn and many other crops were instituted in the same way. The work was almost an immediate success. Thousands of ex- amples or "demonstrations" were created by farmers through the instructions of the department's agents under Dr. Knapp's leadership. Meetings were held at the demonstrations and expe- riences compared at the end of the season. During the first year or two the work covered a great deal of territory. The demon- strations were scattered along railroads and main highways where they could be easily reached and seen. One agent was compelled to cover considerable territory. However, the effect was to restore confidence, and give the people hope and some- thing to live on while they readjusted their agriculture to meet the new conditions. Gradually the farmers began to understand that they could raise cotton in spite of the weevil, and the full restoration of prosperity was only a matter of time and the ex- tension of the new type of education. The General Education Board of New York was, at that time, engaged in an earnest effort to assist southern education, not only in colleges, but in secondary schools, and even the primary rural schools. Their attention had been called to the rural prob- lem and to the rural schools and the general educational needs of the country. While studying the situation with a view to greater assistance, they came in contact with the work of the department under Dr. Knapp. Their representatives visited Texas, met Dr. Knapp and studied his work. They were in- terested and impressed with Dr. Knapp's statement that in meeting an emergency he had found an opportunity to put into practice an idea he had worked out which he believed to be of universal application. They, therefore, offered to furnish the necessary funds to permit Dr. Knapp to try his plan in sections of the South far removed from the influence of the boll weevil, if arrangements could be made with the department of agricul- ture for the trial. As a result of their effort the offer was ac- OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 379 cepted and Dr. Knapp was furnished with funds from the Gen- eral Education Board in addition to the funds from Congress. With the federal funds work was done in boll weevil territory and the territory immediately in advance of the weevil, which was gradually migrating from year to year north and east through the cotton states. With the funds of the General Edu- cation Board work of the same kind for the general improve- ment of agriculture and rural economic conditions was begun in Mississippi and Virginia in 1906, and was extended to Ala- bama, South Carolina, Georgia, and North Carolina in 1907. The direct federal funds carried the work in Texas, Louisiana, Oklahoma and Arkansas. As the weevil advanced eastward, the states were transferred in succession from the General Edu- cation Board fund to the federal fund. The funds from both of these sources increased from year to year as the work grew in popularity. In 1909 the federal funds amounted to $102,000 and those from the General Education Board to $76,500. In 1906 and 1907 such was the demand for the work that it was impossible to reach all who were insisting that they needed the help. When advised that financial assistance was the limit- ing factor in spreading the work, business men in some of the counties offered to assist in the payment of the salary of an agent if his activities could be restricted to their county. This was done. It had been fully realized by Dr. Knapp that the work would be improved by limiting the territory served by each agent. This led to the adoption of the title ''County Agent" afterward so well known in the South. In 1909 the state of Mississippi took the lead in recognizing the new type of education by enacting a law under which the county might pay part of the salary of the agent. In the years from 1909 to 1915, every southern state having power to grant such authority to the county passed some sort of law permitting the county government to cooperate with the United States De- partment of Agriculture in this work and to pay part or all the salary of the county agent. State appropriations were made also in a number of cases, the first in 1911 in Alabama. The growth of the work was phenomenal. It soon became the rule rather than the exception for the county to furnish at least one-half of the money necessary for the salary and expenses 380 RURAL SOCIOLOGY of the county agent. Of late years the financial cooperation from local sources has practically doubled the service and met the appropriations dollar for dollar or more. During the early days of the development of the work men often served for the love of the service, and hence the rule was rather low salaries considering the service rendered. The work was always prac- tical and direct. As it grew and developed and the men became more expert, the whole system gradually took form and certain well recognized methods were followed. What does a county agent do and how does he teach by dem- onstrations? The county agent goes to the farm and gives his instruction while the farmer is at his everyday duties. The aim of the work was and is to place in every community practical object lessons illustrating the best and most profitable method of producing the standard farm crops, or of animal feeding, etc., and to secure such active participation in the demonstration on the part of the farmers as to prove that they can make a much larger average annual crop, or feed or produce livestock more economically, and secure a greater return for their toil. Dr. Knapp said that it might be regarded as a "system of adult edu- cation given to the farmer upon his farm by object lessons in the soil, prepared under his observation and generally by his own hand." The teaching was very effective because at first it was simple in character, direct, and limited to a few fundamental things, such as the preparation of a good seed bed, deep fall plowing, the selection of good seed, and shallow and intensive cultiva- tion. In the early stages of the work Dr. Knapp framed what he called the "Ten Commandments of Agriculture," as follows: 1. Prepare a deep and thoroughly pulverized seed bed, well drained ; break in the fall to a depth of 8, 10 or 12 inches, ac- cording to the soil ; with implements that will not bring too much of the sub-soil to the surface; (the foregoing depths should be reached gradually). 2. Use seed of the best variety, intelligent^ selected and care- fully stored. 3. In cultivated crops, give rows and the plants in the rows, a space suited to the plant, the soil and the climate, OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 381 4. Use intensive tillage during the growing period of the crop. 5. Secure a high content of humus in the soil by the use of legumes, barnyard manure, farm refuse and commercial fer- tilizers. 6. Carry out a system of crop rotation with a winter cover crop on southern farms. 7. Accomplish more work in a day by using more horse power and better implements. 8. Increase the farm stock to the extent of utilizing all the waste products and idle lands on the farm. 9. Produce all the food required for the men and animals on the farm. 10. Keep an account of each farm product in order to know from which the gain or loss arises. These became very widely known in the South and formed the basis for much of the work done by the agents. The demonstrations were extended from crop to crop. With the fundamental idea that it was necessary to readjust the agri- culture of the South and make it more profitable and to make the country life better, Dr. Knapp taught the great lesson of diversification or a self-sustaining agriculture. The preserva- tion of the fertility of the soil and the furnishing of the living of the people on the farm from its products, were two necessary changes if the South was to prosper. With these things taken care of, that great section was well supplied with cash crops which it could produce and exchange in the markets of the world for the money with which to improve her life and her indus- tries. The trouble was that the South was producing these splendid crops of cotton, tobacco, rice and sugar and exchang- ing them for her living. One of the problems was to reach as many farmers as possible. The county agent could not possibly carry on a demonstration on every farm in the county. Two plans proved effective. The first was to rely upon the fact that farmers, like other people, would imitate what they saw tried with success. It became very evident that one good demonstration in a neighborhood reached more people than the farmer who carried on the demonstration. A varying number of the neighbors copied the practices and 382 RURAL SOCIOLOGY profited by the lesson because it was simple, and close by where they could see it. But some effort was also made to assist this process. Farmers around the demonstration were notified of the agent 's visit and invited to come to the demonstration farm for a conference. These informal meetings were called field meetings or field schools. Neighboring farmers who were sufficiently in- terested agreed to carry on a demonstration on their own farms and to obtain their instruction from meeting the agent at the demonstration farms. These men who were not visited were called ' l cooperators. " Out of these meetings grew neighbor- hood organizations of farmers or community clubs which now form an important part of the work. About 1908 Dr. Knapp first began what was known as the Boys' Corn Club Movement in the South. It is true that there had been corn clubs in a number of the northern states and in one or two of the southern states prior to that time. However, Dr. Knapp should receive the credit for systematizing this very important and excellent piece of work. He established it on an acre contest basis and arranged for the giving of prizes, not on the maximum yield alone, but upon the maximum yield at mini- mum cost, with a written essay describing the work done and an exhibit of the product. The objects of the Boys' Corn Club Work were: 1. To afford the rural teacher a simple and easy method of teaching practical agriculture in the schools in the way it must be acquired to be of any real service; namely, by actual work upon the farm. 2. To prove that there is more in the soil than the farmer has ever gotten out of it. To inspire boys with a love of the land by showing them how they can get wealth out of it by tilling it jn a better way, and thus to be helpful to the family and the neighborhood, and 3. To give the boys a definite, worthy purpose and to stimulate a friendly rivalry among them. The first effort in this direction was in Mississippi when Mr. W. H. Smith, then County Superintendent of Schools for Holmes County, did the work in cooperation with the demonstration OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 383 forces. Results of this work were extended gradually to the other states until the Boys' Corn Club Movement as a part of the general scheme of education through demonstration became a very large factor in southern agricultural work. The Boys' Club Work was organized mainly through the schools. The county agent was recognized as the agricultural authority and gave the boys instruction. The school teachers generally acted as the organizers of the clubs. The county super- intendent was a good cooperator. The state superintendent often assisted materially with the work. Prizes were contributed by local business men ; the bankers became interested and often gave considerable money for prizes for these contests. The local co-ntest and the county and state contest soon became very important and interesting events. In 1909 four state prize win- ners received free trips to Washington, D. C. For a number of years these annual trips attracted much attention. This plan was abandoned in 1914 for the better system of scholarship prizes. Since then the chief annual prize in the state has been a scholarship at the Agricultural College. Pig Clubs, Baby Beef Clubs, Clover Clubs, etc., are but a natural evolution which came with the years. In 1911 the number of county agents had reached 583, the number of demonstrators and cooperators had reached 100,000, and the number of boys approximately 51,000. In 1910 Dr. S. A. Knapp began to develop a part of the work for women and girls. It was his belief that he had thus far planned the work for the father and son. He desired to com- plete the work by doing something for the mother and daugh- ter. In October, 1910, he wrote: The Demonstration Work has proven that it is possible to reform, by simple means, the economic life and the personality of the farmer on the farm. The Boys' Corn Clubs have likewise shown how to turn the attention of the boy toward the farm. There remains the home itself and its women and girls. This problem can not be approached directly. The reformer who tells the farmer and his wife that their entire home system is wrong will meet with failure. With these facts in view I have gone to work among the girls to teach one simple and straight-forward lesson which will open their eyes to the possibilities of adding to the family income through sin: pie work in and about the home. 384 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Beginning in the states of South Carolina, Virginia and Mis- sissippi, there were developed that year a number of Girls' Can- ning Cubs. This work increased rapidly. In the broad development of the work as a whole the county agents, both men and women, naturally divide their activities into three general classes : First: Their actual demonstrations with farmers, their wives, and the boys and girls. Second: The giving out of general information through speeches, meetings, etc. Third: Efforts to stimulate organization. In the South organization work has proceeded mainly on a community basis. Community interest and activity have been often stimulated by the demonstrations, and the collecting of people together at the demonstrations has furnished a ready means of natural organization of communities. In many com- munities there were already organizations such as the Farmers' Union. These are assisted by the county agents. As a rule the community organization has some definite object in view such as the improvement of agricultural practices, standardization of production, maintenance of pure varieties of seed and standard- izing the production of various kinds of livestock. Very often, also, they have engaged: in the cooperative purchase of supplies, mainly fertilizers, and in some cooperative marketing. In the northern states there has grown up a type of organiza- tion known as the County Farm Bureau, which is mainly an or- ganization of individual farmers who interest themselves in se- curing a county agent and assisting in the general work in the county. These organizations have proved quite effective in han- dling a large amount of business and creating greater interest in agriculture. In many counties in the South the type of organization for the whole county consists in the confederation of representatives from the community organizations to form a county association for the general improvement of agriculture in the whole county. It is not possible in this short article to discuss the merits of the two types of organization. Each type has many points of merit and each seems to be meeting the present needs of the people. OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 385 The ultimate type may be a combination of the good features of both plans. Thus in brief we have the complete work involving the service of an educational system for the men, women, boys and girls on the farm. It should be fully understood that the county agent, either among the men or the women, is not left to his own fancy or whim in the work. First there are the state agents or leaders who look after the work in an entire state, with assistants, called by that name, or district agents in case they are given a portion of the state. There are also*specialists to complete the work. These are men who have been trained especially along some particular branch of agriculture and therefore have studied and prepared them- selves to meet special problems or sets of problems. These men are entomologists, agronomists, horticulturists, dairymen, pathol- ogists, etc. A few such specialists are employed to assist the county agents along these special lines. There are also such men as market experts and farm management experts who as- sist the county agents in their various special problems. All of these together, under a general director, constitute what is usually known as the Extension Work or the Extension Service of the state. Dr. Seaman A. Knapp died in the spring of 1911 at the ripe age of seventy-seven years. After his death the work was con- tinued without interruption. In these years it grew as before and its various parts were perfected as the men engaged in- creased in knowledge and understanding of the work they were doing. In 1911 the work had been extended to all of the south- ern states with the exception of Kentucky, West Virginia and Maryland. In these states it was begun in 1913. As early as the fall of 1911, an effort was made in South Carolina to bring together all the extension work in the state and to join the federal and the state forces into one organiza- tion managed under a cooperative agreement. The cooperative agreement was actually perfected in December, 1911, and put into operation in January, 1912. Under this plan the College of Agriculture of the State and the Federal Department agreed on a joint representative to administer the work in the state and 386 RURAL SOCIOLOGY agreed on the details and method under which he was to carry the. work along. This plan proved an immediate success and was copied in Texas in 1912 and in Georgia in 1913. Florida fell in line in the early spring of 1914. In 1911 some experiments in reaching farmers directly through a resident instructor were tried in the northern states under the direction of the Office of Farm Management of the Federal De- partment of Agriculture. In the early part of the year 1912 the same office was authorized to begin a systematic effort to extend this practical direct work among farmers into the south- ern states. The problems to be met were different and it re- quired time and experience to enable the workers to adapt the fundamental principles involved in the demonstration work to the new field. North Dakota began an independent demonstra- tion work early in 1912, afterward uniting with the department's general work of the same character. In addition to North Da- kota, New York and Indiana were among the first to develop the work in the northern states. In all the northern and western work the well trained county agent was the necessary part of the plan as in the South. Beginning in 1862 with the Morrill Act for the endowment of the state colleges of agriculture, the Congress of the United States had passed a series of acts to assist the states in agricul- tural education and research. The Nelson Act increased the funds for teaching agriculture in the colleges, and the Hatch and Adams Acts created and supported the state experiment stations. It would be impossible to say just when the colleges had first begun to think about some act to assist them with the extension work or direct work with farmers, but certainly a number of years before the passage of the Smith-Lever Act the Association of American Agricultural Colleges and Experiment Stations had been interested and active in that direction. Many of the lead- ing agricultural colleges of the northern states, and especially of the middle western states, had established extension depart- ments of considerable proportions. Their work consisted mainly of the sending out of specialists, the conducting of institutes, movable schools of agriculture and home economics, short courses at the colleges, and boys' and girls' club work. Some plot work OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 387 and a few demonstration farms of the kind first referred to in the early part of this article were also a part of the work. As already stated, the Office of Farm Management of the United States Department of Agriculture began actual work in the North in 1912. This work of putting county agents into north- ern counties grew rapidly and appropriations were increased to meet the expense. It is not the purpose here to trace the history of the passage of the Smith-Lever Act. The Act was finally approved by the President May 8, 1914. It provides for the establishment of co- operative extension work in agriculture and home economics. Each state was to establish a division for such work at its land grant college, that is, the college which had received the benefits of the Morrill, the Nelson, the Hatch and the Adams Acts. The act provides that the work shall consist of instruction and practical demonstrations in agriculture and home economics to persons not attending or resident in said colleges in the several communities, and imparting to such persons information on said subjects through field demonstrations, publications and otherwise; and this work shall be carried on in such manner as may be mutually agreed upon by the Secretary of Agriculture and the State Agricultural College or colleges receiving the benefits of this Act. The appropriations from the federal treasury, under this act, began with $480,000 for the year ending June 30, 1915, which was divided equally, $10,000 to each of the forty-eight states. For the next year an additional appropriation of $600,000 was made and then the amount increases by $500,000 per annum until the amount reaches $4,100,000 in addition to the original $480,000, or a total of $4,580.000. As to all the additional ap- propriation above the $480,000, it is provided that it shall be divided between the states in the proportion that the rural pop- ulation of each state bears to the total rural population, on con- dition that "no payment out of the additional appropriation herein provided shall be made in any year to any state until an equal sum has been appropriated for that year by the Legis- lature of the State, or provided by state, county, college, local authority, or individual contribution from within the state for the maintenance of the cooperative agricultural extension work provided for in this act." This means that -at the end of the 388 RURAL SOCIOLOGY year 1922 there will be an annual appropriation from the federal treasury amounting to $4,580,000, and annual contributions from within the states amounting to $4,100,000 for the support of the work, or a grand total of $8,680,000. This will be the annual expenditure in this new and important system of agricultural education. It should be remembered that the law itself makes this a co- operative work. The enormous annual economic loss in , the United States by reason of soil depletion, insect ravages, dis- eases of crops and animals, improper cultural methods, and lack of proper marketing systems has been increasing from year to year. The nation, the states, the colleges and many public and private organizations have been attempting to correct these evils, each in its own way and with its own machinery and inde- pendent of the others. The resulting effort could not be other- wise than wasteful, more or less inefficient and often misdi- rected. Wrong principles were often advocated or correct ones improperly presented. Expensive effort was duplicated many times. Rivalries and competition were more common than har- mony and cooperation. The result of it all was doubt, con- fusion and lack of confidence on the part of most of the people in agricultural work. The new act provides for unity and co- operation. The field force represents both the United States De- partment of Agriculture and the state colleges of agriculture. Shortly after the passage of the act the Secretary of Agricul- ture put the act into effect by making an agreement with each state which brings all the work into harmony and unity through the one state organization representing both the state and the nation. Within the department he established the States Rela- tions Service, the two divisions of which, under the director, handle the relations with the states under this act and also ad- minister all extension work of the department carried out through the state extension divisions. Under the present plans there will eventually be a county agri- cultural agent in every county and also a county woman agent, each supported in their work by a trained force of specialists and a competent administrative staff. So we have the new system of instruction with its full force of instructors and its plans being worked out. A great public OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 389 service organization has been created. The effect of this great movement can not be estimated. In the South, where it has been the longest in operation, the improvement in agriculture is most noticeable. Thousands of community organizations are drawing together for better rural life, hundreds of thousands of demonstrations are conducted each year and the actual number of persons reached already mounts into the millions. The wastes are being stopped, the bad practices remedied, the diseases eradi- cated, tne fertility of the soil conserved and built up, the market- ing systems improved, and country life is beginning to take on an air of interest and attractiveness which will hold its people and draw others to the great life of this foundation calling of the people. The work is yet in its infancy. With the years there will be improvements. What -are now regarded as experiments will settle into accepted practices. Skill, form, system, all will grow and be developed as they have with the teaching in the schools. But the fundamental principle of having the teacher go to the one to be taught and to illustrate the lesson by a demonstration conducted by the one receiving the lesson will remain the very foundation of the new educational system. It has already tri- umphed where the word of mouth instruction failed. The dream of the founder has become the reality recognized and established by law. HOME ECONOMICS WORK UNDER THE SMITH-LEVER ACT 1 THE chief objections of women to country life are usually (1) the generally small returns in farming, (2) the drudgery of farm work, and (3) the social isolation. More money for home con- veniences and greater efficiency in household management both have in view the lessening of the drudgery of farm work and the securing of certain periods of leisure to farm women which may be used in productive, social, and recreational ways. i Adapted from Journal of Home Economics. 7: 357-358. The American Home Economics Assn.. Baltimore, 191.5. Office of Information, U. S. Dept. of Agriculture. 390 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Extension work designed to be fundamentally helpful to farm women would seem, therefore, to include within its scope certain matters, as follows: 1. Plans to increase the net income of the farm. Farm women need more money for home purposes. The purchase of home conveniences, the installation of water, sewerage, lighting, and heating systems, kitchen and other conveniences, and the bring- ing of literature and music into the home are, in the majority of country homes, dependent upon greater net profits in farm- ing. Knowledge of these conveniences and other desirable things is good, but money to buy these desirable things is a vital neces- sity if country life is to be made as acceptable to women as town life. The county agent is giving especial attention to this phase of the work. 2. Plans to teach and demonstrate efficiency in farm home management. These include such matters as wholesome food properly prepared and served in adequate supply and variety throughout the year, the care of the home and the family linen and wardrobe, the care and management of children, and some- times the handling of certain farm enterprises like poultry and eggs, milk and butter, the garden, small fruits, etc. Efficiency in farm home management contemplates the maximum of accom- plishment with the minimum of effort to the end that the farm family may find satisfaction and contentment in the home, and that the time of the farm woman may be conserved. 3. Plans for leisure and development. The farm woman needs time for reading, self -development, child teaching, social life, and recreation. In the development of Home Economics demonstration work, there needs to be kept in mind the point of view that the prob- lems of country women must chiefly be solved by country women. The county agent movement in some sections of the North and West started out primarily as a city man's movement, but it has succeeded in exact proportion as the farmers of the country have taken hold of the work and made it their own. City women can help in the development of the forthcoming demonstration work in Home Economics for country women. One of the ways in which city women can be of direct help in the movement is through greater social intercourse with farm OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 391 women, through direct purchases of poultry, eggs, butter, fresh and canned fruits and vegetables, and by cooperating with them in the maintenance of rest rooms, nurseries, etc., for farm women when they come to town. But what farm women need and how to meet these needs are matters which must be worked out chiefly by farm women themselves. The criticism sometimes heard with reference to much of our Home Economics teaching is that such teaching is done primarily from the standpoint of the town woman. The country woman's problems are the prob- lems of the country and must be approached from that stand- point. BOYS' AND GIRLS' CONTEST CLUBS 1 L. II. BAILEY AMONG the many enterprises that are at present undertaken for the betterment of country life and agriculture, boys' and girls' clubs are holding much public attention. These clubs are in the nature of organized contests, with emoluments, prizes or public recognition standing as rewards. Contests may lie in the growing of prize crops, in the feeding of animals, in the making of gardens, in the organizing of prize-winning canning- clubs, bread-clubs and others. The organization of these clubs in recent years has undoubtedly constituted a distinct contribu- tion toward the stimulation of interest in rural affairs and the development of pride and incentive on the part of many of the country people. I have watched their growth with much interest and have had something to do in giving them encouragement and facilities. However, there are certain perils in this kind of effort, and I desire to offer some suggestions of warning, while at the same time reaffirming my approval of the general idea of organizing boys and girls for mutual emulation and improvement. We are now coming to a new era in our agricultural work, consequent on the passage by Congress of the great extension bill and the beginning of the organization of many kinds of rural betterment i Adapted from "York State Rural Problems," 2: 71-79. J. B. Lyon Co., Albany. 392 RURAL SOCIOLOGY enterprises on a national basis. It is time, therefore, that we challenge all our old practices and make plans in a new way. I see considerable dangers in the boys' and girls' club work, as some of it is undertaken at the present time or into which it may drift in the future. Perhaps there are other dangers, but four will be sufficient for discussion at the moment. (1) These clubs or contests may not represent real effort on the part of the child. Work that is credited to the child may be done by father, mother, brother, sister, or by associates. Probably in many cases the child's responsibility is only nom- inal. The boy or girl may receive credit for accomplishments that are not his or hers and that therefore are not real ; and if they are not genuine, then, of course, they are dishonest. They start the child on a wrong basis and on false pretenses. All such work should be under careful and continuous control. (2) The rewards may be out of all proportion to the effort expended. The prize should have relation to the value of the effort or the earning-power of the work, or it is likely to be damaging to the child and to arouse opposition in his community or among his associates. Rewards in agriculture have not come easily, and this has been one of the merits of the occupation in the training of the race, and it is one of the reasons why agricul- ture is a strong and important national asset. When we make the rewards too easy, we not only cheapen the effort, but we lose the training value of the work. We must be careful that we do not let the rewards in agriculture come more cheaply or more easily than in other occupations. The person must work for what he gets and really earn it, or else the oc- cupation will lose in dignity and standing with the people. Agriculture should not accept gratuities. Some time ago a young woman came to my office to secure a subscription, saying that if she accomplished a certain number of hundreds, she would win a scholarship. She was willing to expend weeks of very hard work, to go to much inconvenience for the purple of earning the scholarship. About the same time, certain young boys were brought to my office as one stage in a trip that was given them for relatively unimportant effort in an agricultural contest. I could not help feeling that the rewards of exertion were unjustly distributed. The travel-prizes OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 393 are specially likely to be out of keeping with the original effort expended by the child. We should take every pains to let the children feel that the rewards in life come only with the expenditure of adequate effort. (3) The effect of these contests may be to inflate the child and to give him undue and untruthful estimate of his own im- portance. A shrewd observer of a boy's prize excursion re- marked that every boy after he got home should be punished; but another observer suggested that the boys in the neighbor- hood would probably prevent him from getting the bighead. I do not indorse these remarks, but it illustrates the dangers that are likely to accrue unconsciously to the child. It is a doubtful undertaking to single out certain children in a community for unusual recognition or reward. (4) The children are liable to be exploited, and this is one of the most apparent dangers in the whole situation. They are likely to be used in the making of political or other public reputa- tion, or in accomplishing advertising and propaganda for insti- tutions, organizations, publications, commercial concerns, and other enterprises, or to. exploit the resources of the state or the agriculture of a region. Children should never be made the means of floating anybody's enterprise. Every part of the "boom" and "boost" element must be taken out of this work, and all efforts to make a display or a demonstra- tion. Substantial enterprises may stand on their own feet, and the work with children may stand on its own feet and not be tied up to undertakings to which it does not belong. Recognizing the dangers that may come from the organization of boys' and girls' clubs, how can we so safeguard them in the new time that these dangers will be eliminated or at least re- duced to the minimum? I think that we can safeguard them if only we recognize the essential nature and function of such contests. The fundamental consideration is that all this kind of work is educational. It is not primarily agricultural work, not under- taken directly to improve the farming of a region. The primary consideration is its effect on the child. If we cannot accept these propositions, then I should be in favor of giving up the boys' and girls' contests. 394 RURAL SOCIOLOGY It is legitimate to use domestic animals and crops for the primary purpose of improving and advertising the agriculture of a region ; but we must not use children in this way. Animals and crops are agricultural products; children are not agricul- tural products. If these positions are granted, we shall agree that this con- test work between children must be put more and more into the hands of those who are trained in education and who carry the responsibility before the public for educational effort. I think that this kind of work should be a part of the public school sys- tem. On their own account, schools must take up this and similar work if they are to secure the best results for themselves and to cover their own fields. The organizing or laboratory work at home under the direction of the teacher is one of the most important means of tying the schools and the homes together and making the school a real part and parcel of the community. When this time shall come, the work with crops and domestic animals and home practices will be a regular part of the school day, incorporated inseverably with the program of education. We must hope for the time when there shall be no necessity for the separate organization of such clubs, the school having reached and stimulated the situation on every farm and in every home. It is sometimes said that the agricultural agents organize the con- test work better than the teachers. Perhaps; but the work is essentially school work, nevertheless, and we should now be look- ing for results in the long future. Supervisors and superintendents of schools and teachers will need the demonstration-practice and the subject-matter that the agricultural agent can give them; they will increasingly call on this agent ; and herein will be another effective means of tying all rural work together on a basis of cooperation and coaction. THE RURAL BOOK HUNGER 1 M. S DUDGEON PROBABLY no enterprise for rural betterment has borne more fruit than the traveling library system, and certainly few have i Adapted from Rural Manhood, Vol. 6:303-307, April, 1915. County Work Dept, International Com. Y. M. C. A., N. Y. OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 395 more promptly shown results. Begun as a benevolence, it has grown to be an important part of an educational system. The dearth of reading matter in many rural homes is almost beyond the belief of those to whom the daily paper, the weekly, monthly and quarterly magazines, the well-filled private book shelves, and the public libraries, general and special, have always been a matter of course. To one accustomed to these, they are necessities, and he little realizes the conditions which led that child of a backwood community to cherish the catalogue of a mail-order house as a choice possession. In order to show this lack of reading matter more specifically it may be well to cite the case of a certain township in the Middle West, where an in- vestigation was carried on to learn just how much reading was done. The principal of the schools of a small city near by, in co- operation with the state library commission, made a survey of the twenty-one homes in this sparsely settled township. The first important discovery was that not one adult had read a book during the last year. It is little wonder, for there was not a new or attractive book in the whole three hundred owned in this whole territory, covering one hundred and fifty square miles. The investigator found that at four homes there was not even a Bible, which he had wrongly assumed would be in every home, and did not at first count as a book, while five homes had no other book than the Bible. A little more than half of the books of fiction in the community were of the dime-novel variety. In one American home, the family consisting of father, mother, and ten children under seventeen, the total literary equipment con- sisted of "The Foreman's Bride," "Wfio is the Creator?" "Twenty Years of Hustling," and a Bible. The boy of thir- teen years of age said that "The Foreman's Bride" was his favor- ite book and that he had read it several times. Another home, where both father and mother were Indians, contained about fifty dime novels, with no other books or periodicals of any kind, al- though both parents were educated at Carlisle. In two homes there were no periodicals, and in the others the magazines were chiefly of the light literature type, Comfort, Good Stories, Happy Hours, etc. One home had The Woman's Home Companion, the Cosmopolitan, the American Home, and Extension. Forty weekly papers and eight dailies were taken, 396 RURAL SOCIOLOGY two of the latter being Bohemian papers with strong Socialistic tendencies. Another investigation made in a seaboard state, not more than three hundred miles from New York City, reveals conditions even more startling, the data being collected with the assistance of the school teachers throughout the community. Great care was taken and the conditions found should be fairly representative, as the rural population of the state is almost exclusively native born ; there is scarcely a district in the state more than ten miles from a railroad ; the rural free delivery brings mail to every door; there is a compulsory school law; and the state maintains a system of traveling libraries, whereby any school, church, or club might have one free of charge upon application. The conditions show even greater lack of reading matter than in the West, More than 50 per cent, of the families reported owned no books whatever. More than 25 per cent, of the homes reported that they took no periodicals of any kind, not even a local newspaper. About 94 per cent, took no periodical of a gen- eral or. literary character. Of every thousand children in one county, 44 per cent, reported that they read nothing. More than 50 per cent, of the households in this same county reported that they owned no books. In a district from which thirty-one replies were received, rep- resenting nineteen families, not a single pupil reports having read a book. Only two of these families own a book, ' ' The Life of McKinley" in both cases. In eleven of the nineteen homes there was not a newspaper, a magazine or a book. Only two of seventeen families in*another district own books; one has lt Rob- inson Crusoe" and the other has "The War with Spain." These investigations show the value of traveling libraries. In one school from which seventeen replies came (representing nine households) three homes were utterly without books, yet sixteen of the seventeen children had read books from the traveling library; four of the sixteen had never read a book from any other source, and the sixteen pupils had read sixty-one books from this library. While these data indicating a dire need for books are the result of recent investigations, librarians have for a long time appreciated the rural need for good literature, and have done much to relieve this book hunger. Before the phrase OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 397 "rural betterment'' passed current, if not, indeed, before it had been coined, many attempts were made to open to the country boy and girl the educational opportunities found in good books and to relieve the dull monotony of the country life by attractive reading matter. In at least thirty-three states efforts are now being made to send good books to country districts. Sometimes the books are furnished by the public library of an adjoining city. Occasionally a township supplies its own needs with local funds. In many cases the county is the unit and owns and circulates the books. Most frequently, however, the work is done by state library commissions, which, by sending out travel- ing libraries, reach hundreds of communities which otherwise would be without books. In a few instances the books have been taken to the very door of the farmhouse, as in Delaware and in Maryland, where book wagons. make periodical rounds. There traveling libraries are collections of from thirty-five to one hun- dred books which are packed in stout wooden cases and sent out by the state or the county, as the case may be. They are made up of the best popular books in fiction, history, travel, biography, science and literature, and are suited to the needs of both adults and children. Where there is a local need there may be added a selection of books printed in German, Norwegian, Bohemian, Danish, Polish or Yiddish in order that those older rural resi- dents who cannot read the English language may be served. All forms of the traveling library are intended for farming communities and for those small villages which do not enjoy public library privileges. If a few persons in a community are sufficiently interested in any subject to make a serious study of it they are furnished a collection of books which, with a study outline, enable them to constitute themselves a study club. There is practically no limit to the number of topics which may be studied in this way. Ma- terial of various kinds, books, pamphlets, periodicals, and pic- tures will be sent upon any subject from Egyptian history to the latest phase of the up-to-date sociological problem. The de- sires of every one are met as nearly as possible, whether he wishes to make a study of Flemish art or to learn the best way of pre- venting potato scab. When the people of any community have read a library it is 398 RURAL SOCIOLOGY returned to the state or county authorities where the books are checked up, a record of their circulation is taken, and necessary repairs are made, after which it is sent to another community. The rural community is at no expense except that the cost of transportation is generally paid by the local patrons. In no event, however, is even an insignificant financial payment on the part of the patrons made the condition of obtaining the books from the local custodian. The rule is that the traveling library shall be kept in the most centrally located and most easily accessible place that can be found. The local postoflfice is an ideal place, but a general store often serves the purpose well. Frequentty the local merchant finds that his increased trade well repays him for the time spent in caring for the library, since the presence of the books attracts the public to his place of business. Where there is no postoffice or store, a creamery, a cheese factory, or a private residence be- comes the home of the little group* of books. Sometimes the library is located in a schoolhouse, but since a schoolhouse is closed evenings,. Saturdays, and during long vacation periods, the books so located are not always accessible. It is found also that adults do not usually patronize libraries which are located in schoolhouses. Records indicate that the tastes of country readers differ very little from the tastes of city people. An examination of the re- corded circulation of certain books explodes the theory that the interests of country people are peculiar to country districts. Farmers refuse to read the books which theorists think they ought to read. For example, even the best book on farm topics is rather less popular in the country than in the city. On the other hand, a book that is popular in the city is likely to be popular in the country. Further, however, a good book sent to the country is more likely to be read there than in the city, since there is in the country little or no competition from the poor, but possible more attractive, best-seller. It is an interesting fact that the country boy or girl is very much the same sort of an individual as is the city youth and likes the same sort of books. Prof. B. A. Heydrick, of the High School of Commerce of New York City, asked six hundred city boys to give him a list of the twenty books which they liked best. OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 399 Care was taken to secure the independent, individual preference of each. At about the same time Mr. O. S. Rice, of the State Superintendent's office, in Wisconsin, made a similar request of the boys and girls in attendance in one hundred and fifty high schools in the state, many of these being, the smaller village and country high schools. The result of the vote among the city boys was as follows : Author and Title Votes Stevenson Treasure Island 222 Dickens Oliver Twist 100 Cooper Last of the Mohicans 81 Dumas Three Musketeers 78 Cooper The Spy , . 61 Stevenson Kidnapped 58 Barbour Half Back 57 Dumas Count of Monte Cristo 55 Barbour Crimson Sweater 51 Doyle Sherlock Holmes . 46 Tarkington Monsieur Beaucaire 44 Twain Tom Sawyer 44 Scott Talisman 43 Dickens Tale of Two Cities 42 Longfellow Courtship of Miles Standish 37 Hughes Tom Brown's School Days 35 Longfellow Evangeline 34 Thurston Masquerader 34 Doyle Sign of the Four 33 London Call of the Wild 33 The country boys in Wisconsin, some of whom were in smaller villages and cities, chose the following books as their favorites : Author and Title Stevenson Treasure Island. Scott Ivanhoe. London Call of the Wild. Cooper Last of the Mohicans. Churchill The Crisis. Twain Tom Sawyer. Wallace Ben-Hur. Eliot Silas Marner. Cooper Pathfinder. Cooper The Spy Dickens Tale of Two Cities. 400 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Cooper Deerslayer. Wright Shepherd of the Hills. Doubleday From Cattle Ranch to College. Eggleston Hoosier Schoolmaster. Fox Trail of the Lonesome Pine. Dickens David Copperfield. Wister The Virginian. Eggleston Last of the Flatboats. Dixon Leopard Spots. s It is to be noted that "Treasure Island" heads both lists and the presence of the "Last of the Mohicans," "The Spy," "Tom Sawyer," "Tale of Two Cities" and "The Call of the Wild" upon both lists indicates that boys are boys in the country and in the city. 'It is rather interesting to note also that in addition to these excellent books which are indicated upon both lists, the country boys selected Scott's "Ivanhoe," Dickens' "David Copperfield," Eliot's "Silas Marner," and Wallace's "Ben- Hur. ' ' While some deplore that only fiction is represented upon these lists we suspect that a perfectly sincere expression from a group of adults would have given much the same results in this particular. On the whole the investigation indicates that the tastes of the American boys, whether in the city or country, are clean and wholesome. City and country boys alike have an evi- dent fondness for books of violence and heroism, but the vio- lence is not lawless and the heroism is genuine. The vote taken by the boys living in rural Wisconsin bears evi- dence that good use will be made of book facilities when they are offered. The Wisconsin boy's acquaintance with the best books grows out of the fact that under the Wisconsin law each school district is required to expend for books out of the funds coming to it from the state at least ten cents for each person of school age within the district. Something over sixty-five thou- sand dollars is thus spent annually for books in these school- houses. None of this is spent in the large cities, so that this sum goes into the smaller cities and villages and into the coun- try districts. In addition to this the state expends a consider- able sum of money in maintaining a state traveling library sys- tem, and during the last year over forty thousand volumes were sent out to over six hundred different rural communities scat- tered OTjer the entire state. OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 401 Some time since a rather careful investigation was made of the efficiency of different library systems. It was discovered that the state traveling library systems circulated every volume owned with greater frequency than did the average city library in six representative states chosen at random. The average city library circulated each volume owned only 2.22 times during the year, whereas one state traveling library system, according to its actual recorded circulation, circulated every volume 2.77 times per year. As it is very difficult to get unpaid custodians of traveling libraries to record every circulation, it is likely that the actual circulation much exceeded the recorded circulation. It is also probably true that each time a book is taken from a traveling library situated in the country it is read by many more persons than is a book taken from a city library by a resident of the city. Several members of the farmer's family are likely to read every book which gets into the farm-house. The records of another state traveling library system showed that each volume owned was circulated 4.07 times per year. The average city library in the six states tested expended 12.6 cents for each time a volume was circulated, whereas the two state traveling library systems tested spent 7 cents and 7.7 cents respectively for each time a volume was circulated. Fourteen county traveling library systems in one state expended only 5 cents for each time a volume was circulated. We think we may safely assume that the need for books in the country is greater than the need in the city. If this is correct amd if the traveling library systems circulate the books on their shelves more frequently than do city libraries, and if it costs the traveling library systems less to deliver good books in book hun- gry rural districts than it costs' to deliver the less needed books to urban dwellers, are not the traveling library systems more efficient than are city libraries? The data collected seem to indicate clearly four points: first, many rural communities are sadly in need of reading matter; second, country people will read when given the opportunity ; third, country people do not differ greatly from city people in their choice of books; fourth, money invested in traveling libraries is well invested. 402 RURAL SOCIOLOGY THE COMMUNITY FAIR 1 J. STERLING MORAN THE COMMUNITY FAIR is a miniature county fair conducted by the people of a community to promote its social and economic life. It arouses interest and pride in local achievement by afford- ing an opportunity for the exhibition of the best products of the community, fosters the spirit of cooperation by bringing the people together in friendly rivalry, and affords an opportunity for wholesome community recreation. These fairs are held quite generally throughout the country and are known in different localities as community fairs, district fairs, township fairs, school fairs, grange fairs, and farmers '-club fairs. The fall festivals, harvest home festivals, and farm, home, and school festivals, which are held in certain localities, are adapta- tions of the same general idea. The community, township, or district fair makes its appeal di- rectly to all members of the community, while the fair conducted by the farmers' club appeals especially to the members of the organization concerned. The school fair in its simplest form is an exhibition of the work done and the products grown by the school children. From the school fair, with its community-wide interest, it is an easy step to include the products of the older girls and boys who are not in school, and ultimately the products and work of all the members of the community. Other types of community fairs vary from the "harvest home thanksgiving festival" of New 'England, which was originally dominated by the religious motive and had very few exhibits aside from those brought for decorative purposes, to the "farm, home, and school festivals" of the Middle West, where the main feature is the exhibition of products and where recreation of all kinds forms a prominent part. A single organization is seldom influential enough to enlist all the elements in a community for the purpose of conducting a i Adapted from Farmers' Bulletin 870, United States Department of Agriculture. OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 403 community fair. Every organization in the community ought to feel responsible for the success of the enterprise. The first step is to get together the leaders of the different organizations in the community for the purpose of considering whether or not it is advisable to hold a community fair. It is well to present at this meeting a general outline of the method of procedure for the conduct of the fair. If the plan is ap- proved by this group, a community meeting is called, at which full explanation is made regarding the nature and purposes of a community fair and the methods of conducting it. This meeting should be well advertised by posters, newspaper notices, and post cards addressed to each family, calling attention to the place and date and emphasizing the importance of the meeting. If the community decides to hold a fair, the next step is to form an organization, either temporary or permanent, and elect officers, consisting of a president, a vice-president, and a secretary-treas- urer. Committees should also be chosen. The president keeps in close touch with the other officers and the chairmen of all the committees and is the correlating force and executive officer of the fair. The other officers perform the duties usually pertaining to their offices. The committees should have from three to five members each, including at least one young person of school age. The amusement and entertainment committee has charge of all athletics and field sports, games, folk dances, pageants, and parades, and also arranges for music, motion pictures, speakers, and other attractions. The arrangements and decorations committee arranges for a place to hold the fair and looks after the decorations, using flowers, autumn leaves, evergreens, bunting, flags, and other available material. This committee cooperates with the several committees having charge of the different exhibit departments and assigns such tables, shelves, and wall space as are needed. The publicity committee enlists the help of the local news- papers and supplies them regularly with articles concerning the fair and with a comprehensive report after it has been held. Regular notices are given in schools and churches and at all public gatherings for several weeks prior to the holding of the fair. Handmade posters are often used, and when well made 404 RURAL SOCIOLOGY they give individuality and attractiveness to the advertising. Printed handbills or "fliers" giving detailed lists of articles that may be exhibited in each department are distributed to every family in the community several weeks before the fair. In the preparation of these suggestive lists the publicity committee works with the chairman of the committees having charge of the several exhibit departments of the fair. While it is to be expected that the exhibits at a community fair will receive special attention for the purpose of exhibition, nevertheless they should represent as nearly as possible the nor- mal production of the community, for one of the purposes of holding a community fair is to stimulate a desire to increase the quantity and to improve the quality of the average product. Freak exhibits of all kinds are to be avoided. Personal solicitation has been found to be a most effective means of inducing people to make exhibits. Each exhibitor should realize that he is in competition only with other members of the community and that it will not be possible for some stranger to take all the prizes. Satisfactory results are usually obtained in community fairs by grouping certain classes of exhibits. Thus, in the live-stock department, horses, cattle, swine, poultry, and pets are exhibited. In the farm-products department are shown different varieties of grains and seeds, grasses and forage crops, field beans and peas, peanuts and potatoes, together with dairy products and bee products. The orchard and garden department includes such exhibits as fruits and vegetables, ornamental shrubbery, and flowers. The woman 's-work and fine-arts department includes prepared foods, canned goods, jellies, preserves, and pickles, and all kinds of needlework, together with such exhibits as paintings, metal work, raffia and reed basket work, pottery, painted china, and handmade jewelry. The school and club department includes all exhibits from or- ganizations in the community which wish to bring the results of their work before the community in this way. The historical relics department includes firearms, swords, caps, and other war relics, old looms, spinning wheels, and arti- cles produced on them, old pictures, drawings, documents, Indian OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 405 relics, family relics, geological specimens, and objects of interest from other lands. Besides the committees having charge of these departments, there are often others that conduct such activities as a better- babies contest, a health exhibit, or a parcel-post exhibit. Judges of ability and experience should be secured. The state agricultural colleges and other institutions are usually willing to render such assistance as their force of workers and means will permit. There are often other individuals with exceptional ex- perience who may be available at little or no expense. When possible, judges should be chosen from outside the community. The relatively small number of exhibits at a community fair makes it possible for the judges to explain the basis upon which the awards were made. Besides allaying criticism, this plan has great educational value. If standard score cards can be ob- tained from reliable sources, they should be put into the hands of prospective exhibitors several weeks prior to the fair, and all judging should be done on this basis. It has often been found that community fairs do not appeal to certain persons who have been in the habit of making exhibits at fairs where cash premiums are awarded. The primary aim of an exhibitor at a community fair, however, should not be to win a money prize as compensation for preparing his exhibit. Expe- rience has proved that the awarding of money prizes not only makes the cost of a fair prohibitive, but, by placing the emphasis on money instead of on the honor of achievement, defeats the purpose of the fair. The best results have been obtained where ribbons have been awarded, the color of the ribbon denoting the grade of the prize. If money is available for printing the ribbons, each one should be so printed as to show the occasion, place, and date. Awards should be made on the basis of the excellence of the exhibit, and no premium should be awarded to a poor exhibit. Accordingly, for the information of exhibitors, it is well to publish for each class of exhibits the requirements that are to be considered by the judges in awarding premiums. There are numerous instances where valuable premiums have been given by commercial concerns for awards to individuals or organizations that have been successful along the line in which 406 RURAL SOCIOLOGY the donors were particularly interested. In a Middle Western State premiums were offered for the best kept farm and home premises and to the farm and home showing the greatest im- provement in a given time. The community fair does not require large sums of money for premiums or other expenses, and for this reason no charges are made for entry of exhibits or gate admissions. A small amount of money, however, is necessary to pay for printing and general advertising, lumber for tables, shelves, and live-stock pens, rib- bons for premiums, and such decorative material and incidentals as are needed. This money is raised either by subscription or by selling advertising space in the premium list or fair catalogue. The managements of county fairs are beginning to realize the value of the community exhibit as a factor in making the county fair serve its purpose as an agricultural exhibition. Liberal pre- miums have been offered for these community exhibits, either in cash or in such form as to be of community use, as, for example, reference books on agricultural subjects to be kept in the com- munity library, a watering trough conveniently located, or a drinking fountain. One state has recently passed a law providing for the holding of community fairs and appropriating money for the purpose of packing community exhibits and transporting them to the larger fairs. An interesting county fair, made up of seventy-two community exhibits, was recently held in a county in the Middle West. There were no races or sideshows. The 10,000 people in attend- ance spent their time for two days in visiting and inspecting the exhibits and in wholesome recreation under the supervision of an expert recreational director from a neighboring city. The ex- hibits, occupying in all about 15,000 square feet of floor space and 55,000 square feet of wall space, were housed in vacant buildings on the business street and in tents. Each community had its booths and the several communities vied with each other in making attractive exhibits of the products of the farm, home, and school. OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 407 THE SMITH-HUGHES ACT l THIS act is quite similar in some of its features to the Agricul- tural Act of 1914. There is the same provision for continuing and increasing appropriations, beginning with $1,700,000 in 1917, and rising to $7,200,000 in 1925. The available money will be distributed among all states which agree to contribute sums equal to their allotments and to conform to the terms of the act. The appropriation provides for the creation of three distinct funds, viz., (1) for paying salaries of teachers, supervisors or directors of agricultural subjects; (2) for paying the salaries of teachers of trade, home economics and industrial subjects, and (3) for training the teachers and others mentioned under (1) and (2). The basis of distribution among the states is rural population under (1), urban population under (2), and total population under (3). A state may accept benefits under one or more of these funds, as it prefers. The act creates a Federal Board of Vocational Education, consisting of the Secretaries of Agriculture, Commerce and La- bor, the United States Commissioner of Education, and three other members, to be appointed by the President, of whom one is to represent manufacturing and commercial interests, one agri- cultural interests, and one labor interests. The board, besides administering the act and supervising the work in the several states, will carry out investigations of various kinds relating to vocational education, cooperating, so far as may be advisable, with the Department of Agriculture, the Department of Com- merce and the Bureau of Education. i Adapted from "The Smith-Hughes Act for Vocational Education," Scientific American, p. 130, N. Y., Aug. 25, 1917. BIBLIOGRAPHY CHAUTAUQUA Elude, G. L. Leaven of Chautauqua. World To-day, 21:1120-2, Sept., 1911. Chautauqua: Symposium. Independent, 82:497-504, June 21, 1915. McClure, W. F. Chautauqua of To-day. Review of Reviews, 50 : 53- 9, July, 1914. 408 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Pearson, Paul M. The Chautauqua Movement. The Annals, 40 : 211- 216, March, 1912. Ransom, W. L. Founding of the Chautauqua. Independent, 89 : 380, Feb. 26, 1917. Strother, F. Great American Forum. World's Work, 24:511-64, Sept., 1912. Vincent, G. E. What is Chautauqua ? Independent, 79 : 17-9, July 6, 1914. CLUBS BOYS AND GIRLS Benson, 0. H. School Credit for Boys' and Girls' Club Work and Extension Activities in Agriculture and Home Economics. Jour- nal of Proceedings and Addresses of the National Education Asso- ciation, August, 1915, pp. 1144-1154. Creswell, Mary E. Girls' and Boys' Club Work A Manual for Rural Teachers, Bulletin 101, Vol. 4, No. 11. Georgia State College of Agriculture, Athens, 1916. Kercher, 0. Boys' Agricultural Clubs, Kentucky Agricultural Exten- sion Circular, Vol. 46, pp. 1-51, Lexington, 1917. Johnson, Stanley. Youth Leads the Way The Corn Club Boys. American Magazine, Vol. 80, pp. 8-13, September, 1915. Youth Leads the Way The Canning Girls. American Magazine, 80 : 20-25, October, 1915. Youth Leads the Way Pigs and Baby Beef (Boy's Clubs). Amer- ican Magazine 80 : 43-47, November, 1915. Organization and Instruction in Boys' Corn Club Work. U. S. D. A. Bureau of Plant Industry, Cir. 803, 1915. Swain, J. E. Hand Book for Boys' Agricultural Clubs with Sugges- tions to Teachers, and Bibliography of Bulletins and Books. Okla- homa Agricultural Extension Circular 43, pp. 1-90, 1917. EXTENSION SERVICE AND VOCATIONAL EDUCATION Lapp, John A. Important Federal Laws, pp. 96-106. B. F. Bowen & Co., Indianapolis, 1917. National Aid for Vocational Education, School and Society, Vol. I, pp. 649-657, May 8, 1915. Leake, Albert H. Vocational Education for Girls and Women. Chap. I. Macmillan, N. Y., 1918. Monahan, A. C. Federal Aid for Vocational Training: The Smith- Lever and Smith-Hughes Bills. Journal of Home Economics 7: 245-248, May, 1915. Pearson, R. A. Organization and Administration under the Smith- Lever Act. Proceedings of the Association of American Agricul- tural Colleges and Experiment Stations, pp. 116-129, 1916. Second Report of the Federal Board for Vocational Education, 1918. Government Printing Office, Washington. Stimson, Rufus. Vocational Agricultural Education by Home Pro- jects. Macmillan, N. Y., 1919. True, A. C. Federal Legislation, Regulations, and Rulings Affecting Agricultural Colleges and Experiment Stations. U. S. Department of Agriculture States Relations Service, August 25, 1917. OTHER EDUCATIONAL AGENCIES 409 Home Economics Work Under the Smith-Lever Act. Journal of Home Economics, 7 : 353-355, August, September, 1915. Woolman, Mary Schenck. The Smith-Hughes Bill. Journal of Home Economics, 8 : 241-245, May, 191G. FAIRS Bailey, L. H. County and Local Fairs. In his The Country Life Move- ment, pp. 165-177, Macmillan, New York, 1011. Community Service Week in Nortli Carolina, by the Community Ser- vice Week Committee, Superintendent of Public Instruction, Ra- leigh, N. C., 1914. Hamilton, John. Influences Exerted by Agricultural Fairs. The An- nals, 40 : 200-210, March, 1912. Jordan, S. M. Agricultural Exhibits and Farmers' Institutes. Mis- souri State Board of Agriculture, Monthly Bulletin, Vol. 14, Jan- uary, 1916, Jefferson City. Meisnest, C. W. Harvest Fairs in County and Township Schools. American City (T. and C. ed.), 15: 255-S, September, 1916. Morgan, E. L. The Community Fair. The Massachusetts Agricultural College Extension Service, Extension Bui. No. 27, Amherst, May, 1919. Nelson, W. L. The County Fair in Missouri. Missouri State Board of Agriculture, Monthly Bulletin, Vol. 14, No. 7, July, 1916. Rubinow, S. G. Community Fair A Factor in Rural Education, School and Society, Vol. 6, pp. 96-101, July 28, 1917. Vogt, Paul L. The County Fair. In his Introduction to Rural So- ciology, Chapter XIX, 331-341, Appleton, N. Y., 1917. FARM BUREAUS AND FARM DEMONSTRATION WORK Bailey, L. H. The Farm Bureau Idea, In his York State Rural Prob- lems, 1 : 132-146, Lyon, Albany, 1915. The Farm Bureau Movement. In his York State Rural Problems, II : 80-102, Lyon, Albany, 1915. Bronson, W. H. Farm Management Demonstration Work in Massa- chusetts. Massachusetts Agricultural College Extension Bui. 9, Amherst, 1916. Burrit, M. C. The Farm Bureau as an Agent in Local Development. Journal of Proceedings and Addresses of the National Education Association, 1916, pp. 614-619. The County Farm Bureau Movement in New York State. Bui. 60, New York Department of Agriculture, Albany, 1914. Hurd, W. D. Farm Bureau and County Agent Movement. American City, (Town and County Edition), Vol. 12, pp. 100-2, February, 1915. Johnson, Edward C. The Agricultural Agent and Farm Bureau Move- ment in Kansas. Extension Bui. 2, Kansas State Agricultural College, Manhattan, 1914. Lloyd, W. A. Status and Results of County Agricultural Agent Work in the Northern and Western States, 1915. ^ U. S. D. A. States Re- lations Service, Document 32, Circular 1, Ext. N. 410 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Knapp, S. A. Farmers' Cooperative Demonstration Work, U. S. D. A. Yearbook, 1900, pp. 153-00. How the Whole Country Demonstrated. U. S. D. A., Yearbook, 1915, pp. 225-48. FARMERS' INSTITUTES Carney, Mabel. Farmers' Institutes and the Agricultural Press. In Country Life and the Country School, pp. 90-102, Row, Chicago, 1912. Hamilton, John. Farmers' Institute and Agricultural Extension Work in the United States in 1913, U. S. D. A., Office of Experiment Stations, Bui. 83, 1914. RURAL LIBRARIES Dudgeon, M. S. The Rural Book Hunger, Rural Manhood, Vol. VI, p. 303, September, 1915. Dyer, Walter A. The Spread of County Libraries, World's Work, 30 : 609-613, September, 1915. Eddy, Harriet G. California County Free Libraries. Journal of Pro- ceedings and Addresses of the National Education Association, 1911, pp. 1026-1029. Magill, H. N. W. The Rural Library in Practice. Library Journal, 43 : 84-86, Jan., 1918. Preston, Josephine C. The Country Child in the Rural Library. Na- tional Education Association, 1914, pp. 796-798. Rice, 0. S. Rural School Libraries: Their needs and possibilities. National Education Association, pp. 740-774, 1913. Tarbell, Mary Anna. A Village Library. Massachusetts Civic League, Leaflet No. 3, Boston, 1909. Utley, George B. The Rural Traveling Library. The Playground 6: 486, 487. CHAPTER XV THE COUNTEY CHUECH TEN YEARS IN A COUNTRY CHURCH 4 MATTHEW B. MC NUTT THE simple story of a decade of ministerial work, such as the magazine has requested me to write, is this : One cold Saturday morning in February, 1900, a seminary fellow-student chanced to meet me. "Hello, Mac," he said, "don't you want to preach to-morrow, thirty miles out of Chicago? I have two appointments." I told him that I would go. I boarded the first train and landed about noon in Naperville, 111. I was met at the station by an old gentleman whom I took to be a farmer. I was right, and he informed me that his church was six miles in the coun- try. This was rather unwelcome news, for the day was dis- agreeable and I was not clad for such a drive ; but I was treated to a good dinner and we made the venture. The good roads at- tracted my attention at once, and my farmer friend told me that all the roads were thus paved with gravel. And such splendid farm-buildings as we passed I had never before seen on my travels. We saw horses and cattle that looked as if they had just come from a state fair. My expectations had risen high at what I had observed and I was eager to see that country church. At last it hove in sight a very plain structure, built half a century before, with a single room and with surroundings that gave a stranger the impression that the church was the last thing in the community to receive any consideration. It was altogether incommensurate with its thrifty surroundings. The fences about the manse and church-lots had toppled over, and the old horse-sheds were an eye-sore to every passerby. The i Adapted from World's Work, 21: 13761-13766, December, 1910. 411 412 RURAL SOCIOLOGY manse seemed to be about the only house in the community that was void of all comforts and conveniences. One of the elders, a farmer, had been preaching for three years, until he died ; and the last regular minister had resigned with $400 due on his salary, which the church borrowed to square the account. Six of the nine Sunday-school teachers were members of one family and they were good teachers, too. The three elders were also trustees, and each taught a class in the Sunday-school. One of these elders was also Sunday-school superintendent, Sunday- school treasurer, church treasurer, and treasurer of benevolences. A hall had been fitted up in the neighborhood to be the home of an organization that called itself "The New Era Club." But dancing seemed to be the only amusement, though the club 's original promoters had hoped for better things. No one had united with the church for five years. The only services were preaching and Sunday-school on the Sabbath, and a meeting of the Women's Missionary Society. Collections were taken once a year for missions and ministerial relief, and this was practically the extent of the benevolence. Here was a church that had lived in a community for sixty- seven years. Its organization had been effected beneath some trees with a tribe of Indians curiously watching the proceeding from a distance. Many of the original Scotch, English and Yankee families had moved away or died; and their places had been often filled by Germans, who were invariably of a different faith. How to sustain the life of this institution had become a serious problem that worried those who were responsible for its direction. Some of the people were thinking that the country church had outlived its usefulness. None knew better than the leaders that things were not going well with their kirk, and none were more grieved about it. I preached that Sunday and was invited to preach again the following Sunday. I did so, and at the close of the service was asked if I would consider a call. I replied that I would finish my work in the seminary in May and would then be ready for a job somewhere; and that I saw no good reason why I should not become the pastor of a farmers' church. The salary pro- posed was $600 a year, with a manse and fiv^ acres of land. In the meantime a letter came from a presbytery in the West (where THE COUNTRY CHURCH 413 I had preached during two summer vacations), strongly urging me to go there and take charge of three churches at nearly double the salary offered here. That looked like a much larger proposition financially and otherwise and I was drawn to- ward it. The Du Page people were to decide by vote the following Sun- day whether or not they wanted me. Sick from a cold that I had contracted on the first trip, I had asked a classmate to go in my stead requesting him to wait at his room until I had pre- pared a message asking the congregation not to consider me as a candidate. For some reason the classmate did not wait. I hastened downtown, tjiinking that I could overtake him at the station, but I reached the gate just in time to see the train dis- appearing round the bend. The vote was taken and the result came to me two days afterward in a letter from one of the elders, saying that out of forty-eight ballots there had been only one "no." A letter from the same man came the next day explain- ing that the one negative vote had been cast by a little 13-year- old girl who had not understood how to prepare her ballot. Here was truly a great opportunity, looking me squarely in the face a call from the country ! I reconsidered the matter and concluded that I would cast my lot with those country-folk for better or for worse. Why I came to this country church, six miles from a railroad and without even a village surrounding it, I cannot explain. I had received no special training for it other than that I had been born on a farm and brought up in a country church. The days spent in college and in the seminary were so full of hard study that the thought of where my "homiletic bias" should eventually be turned loose never once entered my mind. I sim- ply had a general feeling that in due time there would be some good, hard work for me somewhere, I cared not where. When I came to the field the first of May, I was surprised and not a little disappointed to find that these good people would not consent to an installation until they had tried the new min- ister at least a year. This was the Scotch conservatism that was lurking in the congregation. However, I did not feel so badly when I discovered that this was their regular custom. There was no one to occupy the manse with me, so I furnished 414 RURAL SOCIOLOGY two rooms for myself and arranged to take my meals with a neighborly farmer. When a year had passed, the people were then willing enough to install ; but the pastor, somewhat dissatis- fied with this lonely way of living and with no immediate pros- pects of anything better, thought it unwise to form a permanent relationship with the church. Another year fled and there was a "better-half" in the manse. The congregation voted again unanimously as before and the installation took place. One of the hardest things to overcome was their preconceived notions about the church and about country life. I found it diffi- cult to change the old way of doing things. The only hope of progress seemed to be in training the younger generation. But how to train it and in what, were the great problems to be solved. One thing was certain: the church society as it was organized and conducted did not seem to be all that the com- munity needed. Many of the people had grown indifferent to the church, and those who were interested did not seem to know just what was lacking. Where could this country church and pastor look for light? Not to other country churches, for they, too, were in the dark. Not to the town and city, because their methods were devised for an environment presenting altogether different conditions. There was nothing left for us to do, there- fore, but to study the situation and work out the solution our- selves. And that is just what we have been doing. I soon realized that, in order to succeed in a community like this, a country parson must do a great deal more than preach and visit his flock. His duties must vary, as mine did, from janitor to head financier, depending upon how much the people have been trained to do, and also upon how much they are able to do. The first work that we attempted (apart from what is ordi- narily considered church work) was to develop systematically the musical talent of the community. This was done through an old- fashioned singing-school. All the young people were taught to read music and to sing. Quartettes were formed; musical in- struments of various kinds were purchased by individuals; and an orchestra was started. There are few homes in the parish now that do not have music of some kind. A great many of the young men and women have been encouraged to take private lessons in THE COUNTRY CHURCH 415 voice and on the piano, violin, and cornet. Some of them had thought that they possessed no talent for music ; they got their start in the singing-school. This musical talent was put to good use. The chorus choir has done fine work singing around in the different homes one or two evenings every week for the sick, for the aged, and for those who can not go anywhere to hear music. Our quartettes have been in demand to sing in the surrounding towns on special occasion, such as funerals and farmers' institutes. There are many special entertainments at the church in which our musi- cians take a prominent part. At our last Children's Day service a chorus of eighty voices sang, accompanied by a number of in- struments. Some of our young women are now teaching music in the community. Parallel with the music, we cultivate the art of public speak- ing. Even the very small children are given places on our pro- grams. Extemporaneous speaking is practiced in all our so- cieties. These public occasions are a great stimulus to our young folks to do their best in declaiming. In many cases the parents be- come interested and send their children to some teacher in elocu- tion for more thorough training, especially when the son or the daughter is to read or debate at some big event. Last fall a team from our young men's society debated the income tax ques- tion with a team of business men from town. At different times we have given plays in the church. The last was a story from one of the magazines which a woman of this parish dramatized for the occasion. These home-talent entertainments have proved to be more pop- ular than the attractions we get from the lyceum bureaus, some of which cost $100 a night. We have had audiences of between 400 and 500 people. Many town-folks drive out to their country- neighbors ' entertainments. We have found that to the great majority of our people this kind of work is far more attractive than the cheap amusements which they are apt to get outside of the community at the public parks and shows in the surround- ing towns. The pride of the community is our band of athletes. It is a sight to see these husky farmer boys in base-ball suits. We have 416 RURAL SOCIOLOGY a number of teams ; and if a stranger were to come along almost any Saturday afternoon in the base-ball season, he would find a game in progress near some farm-house. No Sunday base-ball here ! It is no less a delight to see a goodly number of country "fans" in evidence, from both sides of the house. The annual field-day is one of the notable events of the year. Hundreds of people assemble to witness the athletic contests and its ball- games. The young men of the church, prompted by a spirit of patriot- ism, have undertaken to rescue the Fourth of July from the shameful and degrading way in which it is so often celebrated. They plan to make it first of all a day of patriotic inspiration. A good local program is provided, supplemented by the best public speaker that can be secured from outside. Then it is made a social event as well as a day of innocent sports and pastimes. Some of the folks who went last Fourth to an adja- cent city, to see a flying-machine that didn't fly, came back in the afternoon to .our celebration, saying that it was "lots bet- ter fun" to watch the country sports. Come with me now to one of our young men's meetings the young men's Bible-class. The program for this evening is a mock court-trial. The case in hand is Jones vs. Brown, for assault and battery with intent to do great bodily injury. The judge, very dignified, sits on the bench. Before him are the plaintiff and the defendant, with their favorite attorneys and all the neces- sary court-officers. The jury is carefully selected; the witnesses are examined ; the case is tried in due form ; the jury is charged, and the verdict returned. It is needless to say that there is "a heap of fun" at such a trial. Besides, the boys learn a great deal about practical affairs, for each is required to look up the duties of his office beforehand and explain to his associates. Perhaps a watermelon is devoured at the close; then the fellows visit and sing for a while and go home feeling that they have had "a grand time." Next time it is something else an old-fashioned spelling-bee, or a story-night, or what-not. They discuss all sorts of ques- tions and do all sorts of things. There are upward of fifty en- rolled in the class now. It also meets every Sunday morning for Bible-study, and these Sunday sessions are quite as well at- THE COUNTRY CHURCH 417 tended as the monthly meetings. It is taught by the pastor. These same lads conduct a lecture-course not for pecuniary profit, but for the sole purpose of bringing wholesome entertain- ment within reach of all. Everybody attends, irrespective of creed. The young men own and operate a small printing-press and (with the assistance of the pastor) do all the church printing. They hold religious meetings and entertainments in the public school-houses during the winter and in a grove during warm weather. In the pastor's absence a number of the men speak at the Sunday service. This class and the young women's class have become great powers in the church. From them we select teachers and officers for the church and Sunday-school. If you were to accompany me to one of our young women's monthly meetings, you would find thirty or more girls and young women with needles, busily engaged in making little garments for poor children in the city, chatting as they sew. Some mem- bers of the society, who have completed courses in sewing, in- struct the others. Or, if we arrive in time for the beginning of the meeting, we might find them studying "On the Trial of the Immigrants," "The Uplift of China," "Korea in Transi- tion," or some other live book or subject. This study is sand- wiched in between music and devotional exercises. At the proper time, a signal is given and the young ladies arrange their chairs in groups of four and have placed upon their laps lunch- boards laden with good things to eat that have been prepared by the member or members of the society at whose home the meeting is held. Then, home they go. These meetings are much en- joyed by our young women and it is no task to secure their attendance. You would see similar proceedings at the monthly women's meetings except that (if it were winter) you would find a sprink- ling of men in the assembly. The husbands and fathers come mostly for the sociability afforded, though they do discuss, in a very informal way, the leading topics of the day and the busi- ness of farming and stock-raising. The mothers, in addition to their mission-study, consider topics pertaining to housekeeping, the care and training of children, home-building, and other prac- tical subjects. The society has forty members. 418 RURAL SOCIOLOGY We are obliged to minimize the number of meetings held, on account of the great difficulty that country people have in get- ting together. We have few meetings and make each count for much. A great deal is made of sociability and fellowship. In fact, the church is practically the social center of the neighborhood. The best socials that we have are those attended by all the family the older people and the children taking part in the games and the frolic. We are, indeed, just like one family. The mothers come and bring their babies. The little ones romp and play till they grow tired and sleepy; then they are taken. to the mothers' room and tucked away in a little bed provided for the purpose and all goes merrily on. Perhaps the greatest day in all the year is what we call our "Annual Meeting," which is held on the third Saturday in March. Its principal objects are inspiration and fellowship, and it certainly does give the dead-level gait a severe jolt. It is an all-day meeting, and the whole country-side assembles in full force. The ladies serve a banquet at noon sometimes to 250 people. We usually have two or three good speakers from out- side, besides the best music that our home talent can produce. This is the grand round-up of the year's work. Reports and letters from absent members are read. Some one always speaks tenderly and lovingly of those who have passed away during the year. A blessed day, this ! Other inspirational meetings are held once in awhile for the various societies. One was held recently for the young men's Bible-class and was attended by 100 young men. A new feature which we are planning for this winter is a number of study courses in Scientific Farming, Domestic Science, Sociology, and Civil Government. Landscape Garden- ing will also be taken up with a view to encourage the country people to beautify the environment of their homes. It is not our intention to make of the church a knowledge-im- parting institution, but rather, through it, to foster the spirit of inquiry and to encourage the investigation of truth by supplying the occasion and the opportunity for such investigation. The desire for knowledge and development once inspired, the way is found and things get done. THE COUNTRY CHURCH 419 Symbolical of this new life in Du Page Church and one of our greatest achievements is the new church-home recently dedicated. It cost, including furnishings, $10,000. This building enter- prise was a good test of the confidence and the interest which the community has in the church. Everybody gave to the build- ing-fund Protestants, German-Lutherans, Catholics, and men of no church and they all helped willingly to haul the ma- terials. A new pace was set in church building by this people when they subscribed all the money before the work of building was begun. No collection was taken at the dedication for build- ing or furnishing purposes. The new church, with a maximum seating-capacity of 500 peo- ple, is a model of neatness and comfort. It has a separate Sun- day-school apartment (with a number of class-rooms), pastor's study, choir-room, cloak-rooms, mothers' room, and vestibule all on the first floor. These floors are all covered with cork car- pet. In the basement are the dining-room, kitchen, toilet, and furnace-room. The building is equipped with lighting-plant, water-works, and hot-air furnaces. We entertained the Chicago Presbytery last fall, and the city brethren all said that they had never seen the like of this church in 1 the open country. And, by the way, more yellow-legged chickens entered the ministry that day at Du Page Church than ever before or since ! Three doors in the old structure and twenty-one in the new that is an intimation of the increased efficiency and of the greater number of avenues of usefulness which this modern country-church seeks to enter. It aims to be of service to the whole man body, mind, and spirit. It seeks to surround him with an atmosphere that will stimulate him to live his own life and to cultivate a harmonious development of all his faculties and powers. With all this practical work, the spiritual has not been neg- lected nor minimized. In fact, more attention has been given to it in training the youth and in making the public worship at- tractive and helpful. The people have not grown less religious or less reverent. Quite the opposite. The Sunday services have never been so largely attended nor the interest so well sus- tained. The membership of the church has increased from 80 to 163, and the Sunday-school from 100 to 300. And, in addition 420 RURAL SOCIOLOGY to building the church, remodeling the m-anse, making other re- pairs, and increasing the pastor's salary 40 per cent., the people have contributed to benevolences in the last decade $5,270 as against $6,407 contributed during the fifty years preceding. The effect that this new life is having upon the people of the parish is remarkable. Whole families that formerly had no in- terest in the church or in the uplift of the community have be- come active members. Some of them are now officers and lead- ers. They not only lend their service but they give freely of their means to support the work. Their conception of life is growing larger. They are buying books, pictures and musical instruments. They are installing in their dwellings the modern comforts and conveniences, including the daily newspapers, maga- zines, and religious weeklies, where formerly there were none of these. Many who once gave nothing to benevolences are now regular contributors. Others that formerly gave but a pittance have grown generous. We see in the young people a growing ambition to get an edu- cation. They seem to be inspired with a determination to make the most out of their lives. The honor students at a neighboring high school in town for the last five years have been young people from our community. A number of these young men and women have taken honors at our State university. Nor is the studying all done in college and away from home. The fireside university is becoming more and more popular. There is noticeable in the people an increased willingness to take part in the various activities of the community's life, which may be attributed to the fact that they are better prepared for service. A new community-spirit and harmony have sprung up, with a wholesome pride. This has been brought about by making the church serve the whole community rather than minister to a particular part of it. Whether it be the result of a more abundant life in this vicinity or not, farms here are at a premium. Whenever a farm is adver- tised for rent, half a dozen applicants are after it the next day. Persons living outside the parish have remarked to pastor and people again and again : * ' How we wish we lived nearer to your church!' And there has not been in our community the ten- dency for farmers to sell or rent and move to town. THE COUNTRY CHURCH 421 The greatest achievement of all, however, is the orderly, peace- loving, enterprising community that surrounds the church, and the lot of clean, sturdy, capable young people that are growing up in the church. These are the fruits we covet most and by which we wish to be known and judged. LAND TENURE AND THE RURAL CHURCH 1 HENRY WALLACE THE prosperity of the rural church has in all ages and in all countries been determined largely by the tenure by which farmers hold their lands. A prosperous country church means a rela- tively large rural population large enough to support a minis- ter, to push the work of the church vigorously, to impress its ideals of life and character on the community, and to do its part in extending the gospel to outside sections and to foreign lands. It requires, second, that farming be on an economic basis ; that is, that farmers are making money. For the church is always and everywhere supported, not by capital, but by profits ; and if the farmer is not making a comfortable living or is sinking his capital, he does not have the means of supporting the church. And if he does not have the means, his will to support the church will be ineffective. In the third place, the prosperous rural church requires a rea- sonably stable population. So much of the Christian life lies in Christian relations with neighbors, with employees, with employ- ers, with the whole community life, that a roving farm popula- tion cannot, even if it would, develop Christian graces or impress itself favorably on a community of unbelievers. The farm owner who has moved to town and is renting his land cannot be expected to be a real, vital force in the rural church. Nor can the tenant who has a one-year lease, or whose tenure is uncertain, be ex- pected to cultivate the Christian graces by intimate fellowship with his neighbors and associates or fellow church-members; in other words, to take root in the community and become a part of it. i Adapted from "The Church and Country Life," pp. 232-242, Missionary Education Movement of the U. S. and Canada, New York City, 1916. 422 RURAL SOCIOLOGY One thing more. The prosperous country church requires that there be an agreement among the members as to the big things for which the church stands: the sinfulness of men; the possi- bility of redemption from sinfulness ; growth in Christian graces ; the efficiency of the gospel to make better husbands, better wives, better parents, better children, better farmers, better business men, better neighbors, better citizens. Success need not be ex- pected if minor things of which Jesus said nothing and upon which the apostles laid no emphasis, such as forms of church government and modes of baptism, are regarded as the essential things for which the church stands. If the church is to be suc- cessful, there must be toward these matters a body of sentiment which makes hearty cooperation and Christian fellowship possible. These, as I see it, are the conditions of the prosperous rural church. These conditions prevailed when the rural church was in the height of its prosperity in the early part of the last century. There was then a dense population per square mile in the settled portions of the country, because the farmer was then a child of the woods, hewing his way painfully through the forests of the Eastern and Middle States, and requiring a lifetime to clear up a quarter section or even an eighty. He was a man of the ax and cradle and scythe and flail. Rural congregations were large then ; and the spirit of the farmer of that day is reflected in the names that he gave to his church, names fragrant of the spirit of piety and devotion and showing close acquaintance with the Bible, Bethel, Rehoboth, Mount Zion, Ebenezer. There was then no pull to the city, for the cities were small, as they must needs be, since there was not the wherewithal to feed a large city population, nor adequate means of transporta- tion. Labor was cheap, land was cheap, living was cheap ; and the farm was mainly a means of supporting a large family cheaply. There was no landlord, no tenants. While no one was getting rich, all but the incompetent were getting ahead, and the minister was the outstanding big man in the community "guide, philosopher, and friend" to all, a consoler in sickness or sorrow, an adviser in trouble. There was unity as to the great doctrines of Christianity. Not that all were agreed; but the various na- tionalities, with their forms of worship and religious thought and customs, grouped themselves together in localities the Pennsyl- THE COUNTRY CHURCH 423 vania Dutch here, the Scotch and Scotch-Irish there, the Quakers elsewhere, the Yankees in other groups. All this changed when the farmer emerged from the woods and drew long furrows in the rich, fertile soil of the prairies; and still greater was the change when, at the close of the war, the government gave one hundred and sixty acres of land at the cost of surveying ($1.25 an acre) to any landless man in the wide world who wanted it and who would become a citizen of the United States. Then began the rush for these cheap lands, a rush from New England, from the Middle States, from the South, and from Eu- rope. The farming population began a game of leap-frog. The church organizations, awake to the importance of securing a foot- hold in this new land, pushed their missionary enterprises, aiming to occupy strategic points. The result was a mingling together of men who, while they agreed on fundamentals, gave special importance to distinctives ; and a still further result was the over- churching of the entire prairie country. Then the rural church began to decline; for the introduction of railroads and of farm machinery and a far greater use of horse power decreased rural population per square mile. It has con- stantly been decreasing ever since from purely economic causes. Still the rural church did fairly well, although gradually declin- ing in the size and number of congregations, until the last thirty years, when another set of economic conditions began to render it less efficient. When thoughtful men began to see that there was no more choice land to be given away ; when the great growth of city popu- lation not merely in the United States but in the Old World (the result of cheap food furnished by the farmers of the United States at less than the cost of growing it) began to bring the price of grain up to the cost of production and above it, land began to advance. In the corn belt, the wheat belt, and the fruit belt land has increased at the rate of about 10 per cent, per annum. The country church then began to decline more rapidly. Farmers began to rent their farms and move to town. Capital- ists began to invest in lands as soon as the net income would equal the interest on savings, and speculators began to buy land far in advance of its productive value, on the assumption that this 10 424 RURAL SOCIOLOGY per cent, per annum increase in price would continue. One re- sult of this was an enormous increase in tenancy, until about 37!/2 per cent, of the tillable lands of the United States was farmed lay tenants. In the corn belt from 40 to 50 per cent, of the land is farmed by tenants, and in the cotton belt from 50 to 70 per cent. Meanwhile the use of improved machinery and of horse power instead of man power tended to increase the size of farms and to decrease the population per square mile. A recent investiga- tion by the Iowa Agricultural Department shows that, while the increase in the size of farms that are farmed by their owners is less than 4 per cent., the increase in the size of those farmed by tenants is 16 per cent. It shows further that in sections in which land is bought for speculation tenancy has increased very rapidly. We have three main classes of landlords: retired farmers, capi- talists, and speculators, or speculating capitalists ; and the lands of all these classes are necessarily farmed by tenants. Inasmuch as we have not yet really begun to farm in the West, but are simply mining our soil and selling its fertility ( at present at a profit), the tenure of the tenant is mainly for one year; this condition makes about 45 per cent, of the population of the open country in Iowa more or less unstable. The tenant who goes into a new community for a year does not usually align himself with a church unless he is a man of very positive religious convictions. Neither does the church look upon the tenant as anything more than a pilgrim and a stranger, and hence it is apt to think it not worth while to gather him into the fold. Another influence is powerfully effective. Members of churches who bought land, especially in the corn belt, at from $25 to $50 an acre thirty years ago, could not resist the tempta- tion to harvest the unearned increment and invest it in the newer lands of the spring wheat belt, or the plains, or the Northwest. They moved to the new country, taking their families with them. This has decreased the financial ability of the congregation of the country church, has reduced the salary of the minister to the starvation point, or has perhaps compelled the congregation to have preaching for but one-half or one-third of the time, and in certain sections, for only one-fourth of the time. This deprives the community of the pastoral labor and the example of a Chris- THE COUNTRY CHURCH 425 tian leader and his family ; and the result is that the church de- clines and then dies. In fact, the churches in the towns of the corn belt are largely built up by the removal of members of country churches to the towns. The farms are becoming larger, and the population of the rural community smaller and more unstable because of tenantry. The population remaining is divided up into various denominations and sects through difference of opinion about church government and baptism and other things, the inheritance of a past genera- tion. There are two remedies for this condition, one industrial and the other spiritual. Neither is capable of instant application, but each is certainly applicable in the somewhat distant future. The first is such a system of leasing as will make the tenant a reason- ably permanent citizen in the community, in other words, longer leases. Tenancy is not in itself an evil, but uncertainty of tenure and short leases are evils that vex humanity. We cannot expect to see a prosperous rural church until the tenant can make some arrangement with his landlord by which he can stay on the same farm indefinitely, take root in the community, become an active member of the church, and make of his children real members of the Sunday-school and rural school. Economic causes themselves will force upon the landowner this system of longer leases. The constant decrease of soil fertility through the bad farming of the short-lease tenant and the fact now becoming evident that it it more profitable to the enterprising farmer to rent land than to own it, must work for the greater permanency of the tenant. The first will wipe out speculation and reduce land values in the richer sections until it will be possible for the tenant by renting land to become the owner of the land. This will give us a stable population and greatly increase the efficiency of the rural church. The second remedy is in the change of view of the Christian ideal. We must now get back to the original Christian idea : that salvation is for every man and for every part of the man body, soul, and spirit; that it involves loving ''thy neighbor as thy- self, ' ' and cooperation in every good work instead of competition. A church united on the fundamentals, and with a reasonably per- manent tenure of lands by ownership or lease, will enable us in time to build up a civilization on the prairies, and the cleared 426 RURAL SOCIOLOGY timber lands more satisfying than that which can be found any- where else on earth. RURAL ECONOMY AS A FACTOR IN THE SUCCESS OF THE CHURCH 1 THOMAS N. CARVER IT may be laid down as a general law of rural economy that the productive land in any farming community will tend to pass more and more into the hands of those who can cultivate it most efficiently, that is, into the hands of the most efficient farmers, unless it is prevented from doing so by some kind of military force exercised by an aristocratic ruling class. In a democratic country, like the United States, where there are so few impedi- ments in the way of the free transfer of land, we need look for nothing else. The men who can make the land produce the most will be able to pay the most for it, and in the end they will get it and hold it. This looks simple enough, no doubt, and may not at first seem to signify much, but it is weighted with consequences of the most stupendous and far-reaching character, conse- quences which it would be suicidal for the church to ignore. It means simply and literally that the rural districts are never to be thoroughly Christianized until Christians become, as a rule, better farmers than non-Christians. If it should happen that Christians should become really better farmers than non-Chris- tians, the land will pass more and more into the possession of Christians, and this will become a Christian country, at least so far as the rural districts are concerned. The first result would probably be to paganize the cities, since the non-Christians dis- placed from the rural districts by their superior competitors would take refuge in the towns. But since nature has a way of exterminating town populations in three or four generations, and the towns have therefore to be continuously recruited from the country, the Christianizing of the rural districts would eventually mean the Christianizing of the towns also. But, vice versa, if non-Christians should become the better farmers, by reason of i Adapted from American Unitarian Association, Social Service Bul- letin No. 8., 25 Beacon St., Boston. THE COUNTRY CHURCH 427 some false philosophy or supercilious attitude toward material wealth and economic achievement on the part of the church, then this would eventually become a non-Christian country, for the same reason. But if, as a third possibility, there should be no perceptible difference between Christians and non-Christians as to their knowledge and adaptability, or as to their general fitness to sur- vive and possess the earth, fitness, that is, as determined by nature's standard rather than by some artificial standard of our own devising, the result would be that Christians would remain indefinitely a mere sect in the midst of a non-Christian or a non- descript population. The only way of avoiding this rather un- satisfactory situation would be to force the whole population into a nominal Christianity by military force. But, assuming that physical force is not to be used, and that the ordinary economic forces are to operate undisturbed by such violent means, then the contention will hold. This is what is likely to happen if certain religious leaders should succeed in identifying Christianity with millinery, or with abstract formulae respecting the visible world, or with mere loyalty to an organization, rather than with rational conduct. By rational conduct is meant that kind of conduct which conserves human energy and enables men to fulfill their mission of subduing the earth and ruling over it, which enables them to survive in the struggle with nature, which is the essence of all genuine morality. But why confine these observations to agriculture and rural economy? Are not the conditions of economic success the same in the city as in the country? And must not religion prevail over irreligion in the city as well as in the country, provided religion secures a greater conservation of human energy than irreligion secures ? In a certain very broad sense, or in the long run with a great deal of emphasis upon the word "long" that is probably true. But the conditions of individual economic suc- cess in cities are so complex, there are so many opportunities . . . "for ways that are dark And for tricks that are vain" as to obscure, if not to obliterate entirely, the working of this law. 428 RURAL SOCIOLOGY In agriculture one must wrest a living from nature, and nature cannot be tricked or deluded. But a large element of city popu- lations, and generally they are the dominant element, get their living out of other people; and people are. easily deceived. In- stead of laboring to make two blades of grass to grow where one had grown before, their business is to make two dollars emerge from other people's pockets where one had emerged before. Neither impudence, nor a smooth tongue, nor a distinguished manner, nor lurid rhetoric, ever yet made an acre of land to yield a larger crop of grain ; but they have frequently made an office, a sanctum, a platform, and even a pulpit yield a larger crop of dollars. They who get their living out of other people must, of necessity, interest those other people, and men are so constituted that queer and abnormal things are more interesting to them than the usual and the normal. They will pay money for the privilege of seeing a two-headed calf, when a normal calf would not interest them at all. The dime museum freak makes money by showing to our interested gaze his physical abnormalities. He is an eco- nomic success in that he makes a good living by it, but it does not follow that he is the type of man who is fitted to survive or that religion ought to try to produce. Other men, going under the names of artists, novelists, or dramatists, of certain nameless schools, make very good livings by revealing to interested minds their mental and moral abnormalities. They, like the dime museum freaks, are economic successes in that they make good livings, but it does not follow that they are the type of man fitted to survive or that religion ought to try to produce. This type of economic success is an urban rather than a rural type, and it flourishes under urban rather than rural conditions. So long as it flourishes there is no reason why religious men who conserve their energies for productive service should succeed in crowding them out of existence. The only chance of attaining that end will be for religion to give people a saner appreciation of things, teach them to be more interested in normal calves than in two- headed calves, in normal men than in dime museum freaks, in sane writers than in certain degenerate types now holding the attention of the gaping crowd. If this can be brought about, then it will result that the religious type of man, even in cities, will more and more prevail over the irreligious, provided the THE COUNTRY CHURCH 429 religion itself is worth preserving, that is, provided it becomes a positive factor in the conservation of human energy. As has already been suggested, there is a great deal more in- volved in making a good farmer than in the teaching of scien- tific agriculture. Mr. Benjamin Kidd has done well to empha- size the importance of moral qualities as compared with intel- lectual achievements. In the first place, intellectual achieve- ments, or their results, can only be utilized where there is a sane and wholesome morality as a basis. In the second place, the results of intellectual achievement of one race or one man may be borrowed freely by the rest of the world, provided the rest of the world have the moral qualities which will enable them to profit by them; whereas moral qualities can not be borrowed from one race by another. Japan, for example, could easily borrow from European nations the art of modern warfare, to- gether with its instruments of destruction ; but it did not borrow, and could not borrow, that splendid courage and discipline which enabled her to utilize so efficiently the inventions which she bor- rowed. So, one nation can easily borrow farm machinery and modern methods of agriculture, but it cannot borrow the moral qualities which will enable it to profit by them. Saying nothing of mental alertness and willingness to learn, which might be classed as mental rather than moral, it could not borrow that patient spirit of toil, nor that sturdy self-reliance, nor that fore- thought which sacrifices present enjoyment to future profit, nor can it borrow that spirit of mutual helpfulness which is so essen- tial to any effective rural work. Again, a nation cannot easily borrow a sane and sober reason, a willingness to trust to its own care in preparing the soil rather than to the blessing of the priest upon the fields, nor can it borrow a general spirit of enterprise which ventures out upon plans and projects which approve them- selves to the reason. And, finally, it cannot borrow that love for the soil, and the great outdoors and the growing crops, and the domestic animals which marks every successful rural people. These things have to be developed in the soil, to be bred into the bone and fiber of the people ; and they are the first requisites for good farming. After them come scientific knowledge. In the development of such moral qualities as these the church has been, and may become again, the most effective agency. 430 RURAL SOCIOLOGY It is said that the great problem of the country church is that of an adequate support of the ministry. But how can the minis- try be adequately supported? One obvious answer is to reduce the number of churches. This is a good answer, perhaps that is the easiest way ; but it is the second best way. Another way is to build up the community in order that it may furnish adequate membership and adequate support for all the churches. This may be a harder way, but where it is not impossible, it is the best. Of course there should be continued emphasis, in the teachings of the church and the pulpit, upon the plain economic virtues of industry, sobriety, thrift, practical, scientific knowledge, and mutual helpfulness ; but much more emhasis than hitherto should be placed on the last two. Practical, scientific knowledge of agri- culture, and mutual helpfulness in the promotion of the welfare of the parish are absolutely essential, and unless the churches can help in this direction they will remain poor and inadequately supported. For those who think that the church should hold itself above the work of preaching the kind of conduct which pays, or the kind of life which succeeds, the economic law stated above, is the strongest argument. Organized efforts in the churches for the study of parish economy, for gaining more and more scientific knowledge of agri- culture, for the practical kind of Christian brotherhood which shows itself in the form of mutual helpfulness and cooperation, in the form of decreasing jealousy and suspicion, in the form of greater public spirit, greater alertness for opportunities for pro- moting the public good and building up the parish and the com- munity, in helping young men and young women to get started in productive work and in home building, in helping the children to get the kind of training which will enable them to make a better living in the parish, efforts of this kind will eventually result in better support for the churches themselves, because the com- munity will then be able to support the church more liberally; and, what is more important, it will then see that the church is worth supporting. THE COUNTRY CHURCH 431 THE CHURCH SITUATION IN OHIO x C. O. GILL THE rural church survey of Ohio now complete is the first church survey covering an entire state. The state contains in its area of 40,000 square miles some 1,388 townships. Reports are at hand from every one of these. If we exclude the town- ships in which the population is urban, those in which there are villages of more than 2,500 inhabitants and those in which are parts of large town or city parishes, there are in the state about 1,200 townships which may be classed as rural. In these town- ships there are more than 6,000 rural churches and more than a million and three quarters persons. In each there is on an aver- age a population of 1,470, while there are five churches, a church to every 286 persons. It must not be inferrred, however, that there is an even distri- bution of the churches. As a matter of fact, in many districts, there are not enough of them. How excessive the overchurching is in some regions may be well illustrated by the condition in Morgan County. Meigsville Township with a population of 846 persons has nine churches or one church to 94 persons. Union, another township in this county with a population of 1,048 per- sons, also has nine churches. Neither township has a resident pastor. This is true of seven townships in the county. In these seven townships there are 41 churches or one church to 142 persons. The significance of the excessive number of churches can only be appreciated by coming into close contact with the communities themselves. Very rarely have I visited an overchurched com- munity in the country without finding a condition of harmful competition often resulting in an anemic condition of the religious institutions. In most of the communities several churches are trying to do what one church, if left to itself, could do far more effectively. Under present conditions the churches commonly constitute the greatest obstacle to progress they themselves have i Adapted from a preliminary report of a state wide survey made by the Commission on Church and Country Life of the Federal Council of Churches of Christ in America in cooperation with the Ohio Rural Life Assn. Pub. Missionary Edu. Movement of the U. S. and Canada, N. Y. 432 RURAL SOCIOLOGY to encounter. According to data gathered by the Ohio Rural Life Survey, the churches, as a rule, whose membership is less than 100 do not prosper, while the smaller the membership the greater the proportion of the churches which are dying; yet in rural Ohio it appears that more than 4,000 churches have a mem- bership of 100 or less, more than 3,000 a membership of 75 or less, more than 2,000 a membership of 50 or less. Membership must not be confused with attendance. I have personally visited a considerable number of churches on Sundays, have counted their congregations and have compared the attend- ance with the membership. In this State I have, in no case, found the attendance as large as the membership. In this respect the best record in any church I have attended is that of a church whose membership is sixty and the attendance forty. In one church the membership was 125, the attendance 34; in another church the membership 300, the attendance 136. One of the striking facts brought to light through the survey is the lack of an adequate number of resident ministers. "While a reasonable degree of interchurch cooperation should result in the maintenance of a resident pastor in nearly every inhabited township, at the present time the church falls far short of real- izing this possibility. In fact nearly 4,000 or about two-thirds of the churches in rural Ohio are without resident ministers. In 26 per cent, of the townships no church has a resident pastor. More than 5,000 of the churches are without the undivided service of a minister. More than 2,200 churches have only one- fourth of a minister's service or less, more than 3,300 have only one-third of a minister's service or less, while more than 700 have no part of a minister's service. These figures do not take into consideration the fact that a considerable number of the ministers have other occupations than the ministry. I personally have met several ministers who have secular occupations and yet are each serving two or more country churches. One of the most striking features of the situation is the fact that whereas there are superintendents who are responsible for the supervision of churches of their own denominations, there is no superintendent, or official, who accepts responsibility for the general moral and spiritual conditions in any considerable area. However bad condidtions in a county or region may be there is no THE COUNTRY CHURCH 433 organization or person whose business it is to know about it. Consequently decadence and degeneration may go on in an exten- sive territory without any responsible body or responsible person becoming aware of it. The defectiveness of the organization of the church, as a whole, therefore, demands our serious considera- tion and the application of a remedy. On the other hand the promise in a movement such as is now on foot under the auspices of the Ohio Rural Life Association and its Committee on Inter- church Cooperation is a cause for congratulation. It may be pre- sumed that in some areas conditions existing to-day would never have come to pass had the church, itself, as a whole, been aware of what was going on. Areas of the most pronounced ecclesiastical decline and moral degeneration are found in some of the eastern, southeastern and southern counties. A striking illustration of the failure of our present church organization appears in one of these southern counties. The aim of the typical and most influential religious leaders in this county is to stir up an emotional excitement with- out regard to its effect upon character. These religious leaders apparently are not conscious of an ethical end. By the use of music well adapted to the end sought, by adaptation of the voice, sometimes even by the use of the hypnotic eye and suggestion of emotional experience to be expected, an excitement is produced which is accepted as a substitute for the more worthy aims of religion. They report additions to the membership of the churches and even the organization and building of churches. The so-called evangelist at the end of a period of protracted meet- ings leaves the locality having accomplished no good thing. He returns period after period, season after season, year after year and the same activities are repeated. This has displaced a more wholesome type of church life with disastrous results to the com- munity. For at least fifteen years this type of religion has been gaming in popular favor, while it is displacing other forms of religious activities. In the year 1883 there were 96 churches in this county. In the following thirty years there were 1,500 religious revivals or on an average fifty each year. During that period there was a decline of no less than five hundred in the membership of the churches, while thirty-four churches were abandoned; the production of 434 RURAL SOCIOLOGY corn declined from thirty-four to twenty-eight bushels to the acre; a larger proportion of the population are afflicted with tuberculosis than in any similar area in the United States ; a trained hygienic expert who has made careful investigations de- clares that the prevalence both of infectious disease and feeble- mindedness is extreme; politics are corrupt, the selling of votes common, petty crimes abound, the schools are badly managed and poorly attended while there is much illiteracy. The itinerant evangelists who come into the county each year are the chief religious leaders. The ministers who live in the county usually remain but a year. They have several churches each and direct their efforts to increasing the membership of the particular churches they serve. They have no intimate relation with the people and exert very little influence upon them. One minister serves no less than ten churches. The type of religion here described is strongly intrenched in parts of many counties while its influence through the migration of farm laborers is seriously affecting the religious and social life in some of the more prosperous and progressive counties. In one of these in an area of sixteen miles long and from seven to eleven miles wide there are three abandoned but no living churches. One of the causes of this condition is the fact that the farm laborers, imported by the owners of large tracts of land, have never been made familiar with a normal type of religion. In- vestigation has disclosed the fact that they come from the regions where the excessively emotional type of religion prevails. In no less than nine counties conditions such as we have de- scribed may be found in localities. In two of the counties homi- cides are common and frequently go unpunished. In Vinton County there are two Mormon Churches. It has been truly said that in this southeastern section of the State our civilization is not being conserved. A fairly good community, typical of a considerable area, may be found in a certain township in the northwestern section of the state. In this township one-half of the inhabitants are descend- ants of the early settlers who came from New England. The tra- ditions of these people are good, but they are too conservative to encourage progress in agriculture. The other half of the population consists of farmers coming mostly from the western THE COUNTRY CHURCH 435 part of the state or from still farther west. These are pro- gressive, but in applying the methods of farming to which they have been accustomed under different conditions they sometimes fail. They have a fairly good centralized school and desire to have good educational facilities. Little is done to encourage the social life of the community, nothing for the promotion of scien- tific agriculture or to promote the general welfare of the com- munity outside of what little is done in the school. Formerly it was the custom to have at least one resident pastor in the com- munity, but for ten years or more they have had none. There are three churches, the Methodist Episcopal with forty-eight, the Disciples with forty-three families, represented in their member- ship, and a Baptist Church with a membership of only three, but holding a Sunday School of considerable size. In this township there are forty vacant houses. Large numbers of the farms are very imperfectly cultivated, yet it is said by an agricultural ex- pert that drainage and scientific farming will greatly add to the production and the wealth of the township. THE GENOA PARISH, WALWORTH COUNTY * REV. A. PH. KREMER THERE can be no doubt of the fact that a closer union of the country population will not only make life in the country more attractive, but will also stimulate mental development and pro- mote Christian charity. From the standpoint of mental and moral advancement, the country church is the most prominent factor in uniting people whose homes arc often miles apart. By reuniting them, it brings them into closer contact with one another, thereby creating social life of a high standard and fostering the social intercourse so necessary to the average man. Let me say now that I consider it a great misfortune that the members of a parish should be brought together only for the purpose of raising money for church purposes. There should be gatherings whose object is not replenishing the church treasury. i Adapted from Third Annual TCeport of the Wisconsin Country Life Conference, pp. 46-7, Univ. of Wis., Madison, Jan., 1913. 436 RURAL SOCIOLOGY The parish has five distinct means of bringing people together. The first of these is the parish school. Children living in various school districts meet daily in the school-room and thereby natu- rally extend the horizon of their friendships along broader lines. All school festivals bring in the parents of these children, thus one common interest unites both parents and children. After the school years are over the boys and girls join the junior divisions of the young people's societies. Once a month they hold regular meetings, listen to conferences adapted to their conditions of life, arrange little social affairs, and, when old enough, are admitted into the young men's or young women's sodalities. The church is tlie real social center for these young people. They furnish the material for the choir and the dramatic club. Once a month they meet for the purpose of mental and spiritual culture ; the}^ have a circulating library of choice books. Every Sunday after Mass the librarian is at hand to give out books, and as the young people meet here they naturally speak of the merits or shortcomings of the books they have read. Cinch parties and spreads are arranged at times, when the young people practically all of them meet and spend an aft- ernoon or evening in the most pleasant manner, without any other thought than that of giving and enjoying what they call a " jolly good time. ' ' The married people meet once a month for moral improvement, and, at odd times during the year, for social pleasure. I remem- ber one occasion on which the married ladies were the guests, and the married men the hosts. It would have done your hearts good to have seen these sedate men, decked in the uniforms of waiters and cooks, receive their guests, seat them, and wait on them in the most solemn manner. Once a year a picnic is held ; the whole congregation, neighbors and friends meet in the forenoon and spend the whole day in any way they choose. The men sit together, smoke, and talk politics and farming ; the married women sit in groups with their babies playing around them, exchanging views on every topic. The young people play ball, tennis, bean bag, or any other game their fancy suggests, till the declining day reminds them of the races. Then old and young assemble to witness or to take part in the THE COUNTRY CHURCH 437 various tests of strength, swiftness, and athletic ability. No chances are sold, no money demanded. Every one spends what he wishes and feels sure that he gets full value for the money he pays. One word must be said about the buildings. The school has two adjoining rooms separated by a movable partition. The larger room may readily be used as an auditorium, as a movable stage can be erected in the smaller room, the partition removed, the school desks taken to the basement of the school and chairs put in their places. Thus the school is changed into an audi- torium with a stage complete in all its appointments. After the performance is over, the stage is taken down and stored away, and the desks replaced, the whole not requiring more than two or three hours of work. The basement of the church has a furnace and fuel room, a large kitchen furnished with everything needed in the line of cooking utensils and desks, a large dining-room with large dining tables and three hundred chairs. The dining-room and the kitchen are never used for any other purpose, and are therefore always in readiness. RURAL WORK OF THE YOUNG MEN'S CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION * ALBERT E. ROBERTS AND HENRY ISRAEL THE county work, or rural department of the Young Men's Christian Association seeks to unite in a -town, village, rural com- munity, or in the open country the vital forces of young man- hood for self-improvement, physically, socially, mentally, and spiritually, and to give expression to these resources in com- munity life for the betterment of others. It considers its legitimate field to include all communities that are too small to maintain the city type of Young Men 's Christian Association work, generally conceded to include towns of four thousand and under. Experience has proved that its best work is done, however, in communities in which the rural environment i Adapted from Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, March, 1012, pp. 140-0. 438 RURAL SOCIOLOGY dominates the community ideals. It therefore is a movement which must be determined from the standpoint of qualitative rather than quantitative values. There are 45,000 such com- munities in the United States and Canada with a combined popu- lation of over 12,000,000, thus including over 60 per cent, of the boyhood and young manhood in this field. There are 2,000 coun- ties considered organizable in the United States and 500 in Canada on the present basis of organization and type of work. The term "county work" is applied to this movement because the county already affords a ready geographical unit for con- structive work. Counties have distinctive traditions of their own social elements and existing organizations of a county-wide char- acter. As the result of repeated failures in individual communi- ties apart from other communities, a county-wide organization commanding the combined resources of men and money within the county, made possible in community life that which could not have been accomplished independently. There are two factors that enter into this plan so essential to success volunteer effort and expert supervision. The volun- tary organization, 4he county committee, consisting of from fif- teen to twenty prominent business and professional men and suc- cessful farmers, constitute the administrative unit and clearing house for policies and programs for the country-wide activities as well as for individual communities. These county committeemen are selected with great care, primarily meeting one of two quali- fications : to be able to command resources of their own to promote this work for a period of years, or to possess such influence as to command the resources of others, both in time and money. They all must stand for the best things in community life, be vitally related to the church, to the school and other agencies that make for community progress. They constitute a voluntary body not unlike the faculty of a university at one time, of the health board of the county in another instance, as the clearing house for a religious campaign at another time, as a voluntary body of com- missioners to advance the specific interests of a county, and in no uncertain degree to measure out their best judgement fre- quently along the lines of advancing the agricultural or economic interests. Therefore, the county committee assigns these various aspects of its work to sub-committees, each of which renders its THE COUNTRY CHURCH 439 report at the quarterly meeting of the county committee which works in close contact with the employed secretary and trained experts. The county committee is responsible for a budget vary- ing from $2,000 to $6,000 annually secured by voluntary contri- butions, which enables it to employ a secretary who is a trained expert as their executive officer. Thus the work is correlated and coordinated and a central clearing house is established through which any community and every community may find help and counsel in promoting its internal welfare. In many instances the county committee has thus saved a community from expensive and painful experiences that have been previously proven im- practicable. The County Secretary. He is usually the fittest type of the college man, often not only a college graduate, but also with some special training. He is a man who likes country life and be- lieves in the country and has great faith in the immediate future of the rural districts. He is usually a man of large capacity for leadership, with a broad knowledge of human nature and a fine friendliness as well as an earnest Christian purpose and a great longing to help country boys and young men to well developed Christian manhood. He is in a real sense a community builder. As he is employed by a voluntary organization, his services and his largest contribution to a county will be in reproducing his expert knowledge and experience in volunteer service. There- fore, his primary task is to discover, enlist, train, and utilize leadership. He is also a servant. Pastors, Sunday School super- intendents and teachers, public school superintendents and day school teachers, fathers and mothers, granges, farmers' clubs and institutes, women's clubs and many other organizations seek his cooperation and advice. In the individual community having discovered leaders and set them at work, he executes the plans and policies adopted by the county committee through volunteer leadership. His relationship is with the few men who are the leaders rather than with the massses. In addition to the county secretaries some of the older and larger counties are employing assistant secretaries, physical directors, boys' work directors, etc. There are now fifty such secretaries in forty-nine counties. County work is not an attempt to build up a new organization in country communities. It recognizes as the primary institu- 440 RURAL SOCIOLOGY tions of the community, the home, the school, and the church. Many other supplemental organizations are doing splendid work, but the aforementioned are recognized as fundamental. It is also a fact that though these are the primary institutions, they are in many cases functioning inadequately, or have ceased to per- form their function entirely. Again, in supplementary organiza- tions which are found in country life many are overlapping and even working at cross purposes. There seems to be no well de- fined or unified policy. Furnishing a common platform upon which the various interests of the people will find expression and where these interests can come together in a democratic spirit is the unifying task of the county work in organized coun- ties. It stands for the elimination of waste, for the interpreta- tion of the real needs after surveys have been made, for the as- sumption of specific tasks by specific individuals and communi- ties. It gives itself to the awakening of a social consciousness, a getting together ; it seeks to supplement and not to supplant. If it can persuade a leader to supervise the plan and athletics of a school, or a farmer to give his boy a man 's chance, it has made a contribution to the community life, and its leaders are as well satisfied as they would be if a new organization were formed. COUNTY WORK OF THE YOUNG WOMEN'S CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION 1 JESSIE FIELD JUST as country life is at the very foundation of our national life in many ways, so the young womanhood of the country holds a place of strategic importance, both in the country, and for service to womankind everywhere. The National Board of the Young Women 's Christian Association with its plan of service to girls and young women everywhere, realizing this, and thinking ot the many girls in country communities, began about eight years ago to work definitely towards making all the resources of the Association available to them. This has been done through work in the development of leader- - 1 From a statement prepared at request of editor. THE COUNTRY CHURCH 441 ship for country communities in student centers and through or- ganized county Associations. Voluntary study courses in Coun- try Life Leadership, with the text book "College Women and Country Leadership" as a basis, have been taken by thousands of college women, the majority of whom have gone back to lead dubs of girls in their home communities during the summer. Such classes as these have, also, been held in the summer confer- ences. These classes have not only given more knowledge in regard to country conditions but have definitely enlisted a great many strong young women in active, sacrificial service. Through the organized County Young Women's Christian Associations, trained leadership is made available through the county secretary and the volunteer leaders of the county with whom she works, for the girls and young women of the county. Local resources are made use of ; programs for social, educational, physical and spiritual growth are planned ; recreational features are made a constructive force ; while county Camps, Conferences, and so forth, bring a chance for a wider community and more friendships for the girls of the county. Through cooperation with the homes, the schools and the churches, the best things are made available for the girls. There are now twenty-three such organized counties in the United States and the number is rapidly growing. Seven field secretaries are at work on this special part of the Association work in different parts of the United States. TEN YEARS' PROGRESS IN COUNTY Y. M. C. A. WORK IN MICHIGAN 1 C. L. ROWE THE County Y. M. C. A. has evolved a policy that is applicable to the field, town, village and rural community. It uses resident forces, makes its appeal on the basis of service, cooperates with existing agencies and develops the individual through group service. A comparison of the growth in the last ten years is as follows : i Publication of Rural School Department of Western State Normal School, Kalamazoo, Michigan. 442 RURAL SOCIOLOGY 1905 1916 Counties organized 1 16 Organized communities 8 159 Secretaries employed 1 18 Money expended annually $1,500 $36,000 Members 170 3,421 Summer camps 20 600 Attended Boys' Conferences 40 2,300 Agricultural contestants 625 In physical activities 140 6,452 THE CALL OF THE COUNTRY PARISH x KENYON L. BUTTERFIELD THE country-side is calling, calling for men. Vexing problems of labor and of life disturb our minds in country as in city. The workers of the land are striving to make a better use of their resources of soil and climate, and are seeking both larger wealth and a higher welfare. The striving and the seeking raise new questions of great public concern. Social institutions have de- veloped to meet these new issues. But the great need of the pres- ent is leadership. Only men can vitalize institutions. We need leaders among the farmers themselves, we need leaders in edu- cation, leaders in organization and cooperation. So the country church is calling for men of God to go forth to war against all the powers of evil that prey upon the hearts of the men who live upon the land, as well as upon the people in palace and tenement. The country church wants men of vision, who see through the incidental, the small, the transient, to the fundamental, the large, the abiding issues that the countryman must face and conquer. She wants practical men, who seek the mountain top by the obscure and steep paths of daily toil and real living, men who can bring things to pass, secure tangible results. She wants original men, who can enter a human field poorly tilled, much grown to brush, some of it of diminished fertility, and by new methods can again secure a harvest that will gladden the heart of the great Husbandman. i "The Country Church and the Rural Problem," pp. 131-133. University of Chicago Press, 1912. THE COUNTRY CHURCH 443 She wants aggressive men, who do not hesitate to break with tradition, who fear God more than prejudice, who regard insti- tutions as but a means to an end, who grow frequent crops of new ideas and dare to winnow them with the flails of practical trial. She wants trained men, who come to their work with knowledge and with power, who have thought long and deeply upon the problems of rural life, who have hammered out a plan for an active campaign for the rural church. She wants men with enthusiasms, whose energy can withstand the frosts of sloth, of habit, of pettiness, of envy, of back-biting, and whose spirit is not quenched by the waters of adversity, of unrealized hopes, of tottering schemes. She wants persistent men, who will stand by their task amid the mysterious calls from undiscovered lands, the siren voices of ambition and ease, the withering storms of winters of dis- content. She wants constructive men, who can transmute visions into wood and stone, dreams into live institutions, hopes into fruitage. She wants heroic men, men who possess a "tart, cathartic virtue," men who love adventure and difficulty, men who can work alone with God and suffer no sense of loneliness. SECTARIANISM * THE growth of sectarianism is shown by the number of de- nominations found in rural communities. The following is taken from a study made under the direction of Dr. Warren H. Wilson, showing the number of churches in six counties in Ohio. Denominations No. of Churches Apostolic Holiness 7 Baptist Missionary Baptist 47 Free Will 14 Union 5 Colored 4 Regular 3 Primitive Baptist 1 Separate Baptist 1 i From Dept. Church and Country Life, Bd. Home Missions, Presbyterian Church, N. Y. 444 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Brethren 2 Brothers Society of America 1 Catholic ( Roman ) 10 Christian 19 Christian Order 1 Christian Union 15 Church of Christ in Christian Union 2 Church of God ( Saints ) 4 Come Outers 1 Congregational 11 Disciples, Non-Progressive 7 Emanuel Mission 1 Episcopal 1 Evangelical Association 3 Evangelical Protestant 3 Friends 3 Latter Day Saints , 4 Lutheran 7 Mennonite 2 Methodist- Methodist Episcopal 175 Methodist Protestant 33 Free Methodist 6 Wesleyan Methodist 2 German M. E 1 African M. E 1 Nazarenes 1 Presbyterians Presbyterian U. S. A 36 United Presbyterian 5 United Brethren United Brethren, Liberal 51 United Brethren, Radical 6 Universalist . 4 REPORT OF COMMITTEE ON COUNTRY CHURCH FUNCTION, POLICY AND PROGRAM KENYON L. BUTTERFIELD, Chairman. Miss JESSIE 'FIELD. CHARLES O. GILL. ALBERT E. ROBERTS. HENRY WALLACE. YOUR Committee began its study on the assumption that there were three aspects of the work of the country church that needed stating : THE COUNTRY CHURCH 445 1. A definition of the function of the country church, in order to gain if possible a clear notion of what the fundamental work of the church is, particularly in relation to the work of other social institutions. 2. An outline of a general policy for the country church as a whole, in trying to carry out its function. 3. A suggestive program, embodying many concrete plans and suggestions for the work of the local church, appropriate to the carrying out of the general policy. THE FUNCTION OF THE COUNTRY CHURCH God's great purpose for men is the highest possible develop- ment of each personality and of the human race as a whole. It is essential to this growth that men shall hold adequate ideals of character and life. The Christian believes that these ideals must spring from a clear appreciation of God's purpose, and from a consuming desire to reproduce the spirit and life of Jesus. Therefore, the function of the country church is to create, to maintain, and to enlarge both individual and community ideals, under the inspiration and guidance of the Christian motive and teaching, and to help rural people to incarnate these ideals in personal and family life, in industrial effort, in political develop- ment, and in all social relationships. The church must bring men to God, must lead in the task of building God's Kingdom on Earth. The mission of the Christian church is that of its Founder: To teach the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man as the ideal of life for the individual, the family, the community, and the nation, and to point out the best way to make the ideal the actual. THE WORK OF THE COUNTRY CHURCH The Committee has divided the work of the country church into the following heads : 1. Knowledge. 2. Preaching and worship. 3. Religious education. 4. The Church ministering to all the people. 5. The Church, the servant of the community. 446 RURAL SOCIOLOGY 6. Cooperation among the churches. 7. Division of labor. 8. Administration and finance. 9. The preacher and his helpers. 10. The preacher, a community builder. 11. The country church circuit. Under each one of these heads there is : 1. A statement of general policy : Intended to apply to the church as a whole, or to any church. This policy is expected to be broad enough on the one hand to make the church "function," and on the other hand practical enough to serve as a guide for local church work. 2. A program for the local church : This is by no means complete, but is a list of specific things that might be done by the local church. Probably no one church will do all of them, but every church can do some of them. Each church should adapt its program to its own needs and conditions, but should always test the program in the light of a broad policy. 3. Suggestions and examples : Under this head there is given a list of practical helps, either indicating literature or mentioning actual instances that show the practicability of many of the items in the suggested program. I. KNOWLEDGE Policy a. Country church leaders, both preachers and laymen, should have a clear view of the fundamental aspects of the rural problem, and should broadly define the relationship of the church to that problem. b. The country church should make a survey of its field, to discover neglected individuals and families, to ascertain the con- ditions which determine its work, and to learn what movements are entitled to its guidance, interest, and support. Two or more churches serving the same community should cooperate in such a survey. The main results should be made public, but the rights of privacy should be duly guarded. THE COUNTRY CHURCH 447 Program for the Local Church a-L Books, bulletins, and magazines on country life should be put into public libraries and church libraries. (See lists furnished by Rural Department of Y. M. C. A.) 2. Import lecturers on country life from the agricultural col- leges, church societies, Y. M. C. A., etc. 3. Have speakers on the subject of the rural problem, at church coventions, conventions of young people's societies, etc . 4. Hold county or district conferences of rural preachers to study the rural problem. b-1. Promote the community survey. Use some good standard survey such as that furnished by the Federal Council, by the Presbyterian board (Dr. Wilson), by agricultural colleges. 2. Encourage self -study by the community. 3. Chart results in graphic form so that material can be pre- served, and also made available for actual use. II. PREACHING AND WORSHIP Policy The country church should foster private and public worship of God. Through its preaching, it should bring a ringing spir- itual message to the community, and interpret the Gospel for the uplift of motive and the transformation and development of character. Program 1. Preaching every Sunday in every field. 2. Emphasis on congregational singing. 3. Topics and texts with rural setting. 4. Religious use of special days, like Harvest Home, Rural Life Sundays, Thanksgiving, Farm Mother's Day, Easter, with reference to rural environment. III. RELIGIOUS EDUCATION Policy The country church should develop definite means of religious education, both of adults and of children, interpreting personal 448 RURAL SOCIOLOGY and social duty in terms of rural life, and applying what is learned in actual social service. To this end, the pulpit, the home, and the Sunday School should definitely cooperate. Program 1. Graded Bible instruction for children ; adapted to the aver- age country Sunday School. 2. Instruction of adults through consecutive studies in sermonic material. 3. Mid-week and monthly conferences. 4. Rural Bible Study. IV. THE CHURCH MINISTERING TO ALL THE PEOPLE Policy While the country church should minister to the efficient and successful, to the end that it may hold the community through competent leadership, it should minister with special zeal to the ineffective, the poor and the degenerate, since they also belong to Christ. The rapidly increasing instability of the rural popula- tion lays upon the church the special duty of religious and social helpfulness to the tenant farmer and the hired man. Program 1. Organize clubs within the church for community service projects ; bring in outside speakers at club dinners, etc., to discuss community work. 2. Utilize existing women's organizations for larger and more effective service. 3. Encourage use of the church buildings by organizations and societies. 4. Give public advocacy to various forms of social service, such as clean-up days, community picnics, play festivals, town improvement, Arbor day, beautifying cemetery or common, etc. 5. Preach contentment with rural life and adequacy of coun- try as a life investment. 6. Make church sociables community affairs, if possible, with all welcome. THE COUNTRY CHURCH 449 V. THE CHURCH THE SERVANT OP THE COMMUNITY Policy The country church should regard itself as the servant of the entire community, and should be deeply concerned with all legit- imate agencies in the community; it should give them support and promotion as there may be opportunity or need. It should suggest and inspire rather than instigate and supervise, but it may undertake any new service for which there is not other pro- vision. Cooperation with Other Agencies. The church should recog- nize a division of functions in the community, and should co- operate with other institutions and organizations. Such adjust- ments are made individually for the most part, but by public ad- vocacy and by its educational methods the church may exert its collective influence for all ends that may help to upbuild the com- munity. Program Community movements should be instigated or aided by active cooperation, as the need may be, for such ends as the following : 1. Temperance, wherever the community is suffering from in- temperance or lawlessness ; a campaign for no license or prohibi- tion ; law enforcement ; Sabbath observance. 2. Public health and sanitation. 3. Good roads. 4. School education for rural life, and ordinarily consolidated schools. 5. Intellectual development by means of libraries, lectures, reading circles, clubs, and similar agencies. 6. Provisions for public recreation, and a Saturday half-holi- day for agricultural laborers. 7. Promotion of demonstrations of recreation on church grounds if no better place can be had. 8. Better farming and better farm homes, with special stress upon extension work of agricultural colleges. 9. Beauty of village, roadsides and private grounds. 10. Celebration of religious and patriotic holidays, observance of old home week, and production of historical pageants. 450 RURAL SOCIOLOGY 11. Education of the people by preaching on community plan- ning. 12. Establishment of a supervised social center or community house. 13. Local federation for ru-ral progress and other community programs. 14. In general, promotion of cooperation among farmers in their production, buying, and selling. VI. COOPERATION AMONG THE CHURCHES Policy Groups of country churches, with natural and social affilia- tions, should unite for the study of their special field and for the more effective use of their resources in meeting its needs, thus forming a church federation. Churches should consolidate where only one church is needed in a community. In some communities a federated church may be practicable, an arrangement by which all churches in a community unite for worship and work but each church society preserves its corporate identity. Program 1. Union meetings for religious and patriotic purposes, song service, etc. 2. Community projects for various forms of community wel- fare, Christmas tree, etc. 3. Evangelistic campaign on the cooperative basis, preceded by survey and followed by effective organized work. 4. Union campaigns on moral issues like temperance. 5. Cooperative surveys. 6. Cooperative Boys' and Girls' clubs. 7. Cooperative play festivals. 8. Cooperative community pageants. 9. Cooperation in athletic contests. VII. DIVISION OF LABOR Policy Oftentimes the greatest efficiency of the church requires spe- cialized agencies for special tasks. The rural Y. M. C. A. and THE COUNTRY CHURCH 451 Y. W. C. A., the young people's societies, and other similar or- ganized allies of the country church should therefore be utilized and encouraged where needed, and supported in their work. Program 1. Furnishing leaders for special community tasks. 2. Encouraging financial support. 3. Special work with boys and girls. 4. Special work with young people. 5. Athletic league and recreation features. 6. Use of church buildings for these "allies of the country church. ' ' VIII. ADMINISTRATION AND FINANCE Policy A sound business organization and an adequate financial policy arc essential to the conduct of the country church. This involves utilizing the available resources of a community, the relation of the local church to the Home Missionary Aid, the matter of mini- mum salaries for the resident ministers, and proper methods of financial accounting. Program 1. Official boards and organizations regularly and completely organized with proper program of work. 2. Carefully kept records and regular reports of work in finances. 3. Systematic, community-wide, and adequate financial plan for local church support and benevolences. IX. THE PREACHER AND HIS HELPERS Policy A resident ministry is essential to the highest efficiency of the country church. It should be adequately trained to meet rural needs. Permanency of tenure should be sought by every possible means, including the payment of salaries commensurate with present economic needs and proportionate to ability and service. One of the greatest tasks of the pastor is to inspire, enlist, and train all available leadership on behalf of the full measure of the service of the church to its members and to the community. 452 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Program The Training of Church Workers 1. Every effort should be made to train leadership in the local church, such as Sunday School teachers, lay readers, elders, dea- cons, leaders of young people's societies, officers of the various organizations for old and young within the church. 2. Training in young people's meetings. 3. Training in Bible School. 4. Normal class leader and lectures. 5. Conferences and institutes. 6. Reading and correspondence courses. 7. Personal interviews. 8. Practice work for novices, including apprenticeship system. 9. Inter-church visitation. X. THE PREACHER A COMMUNITY BUILDER Policy The immediate work of the pastor is with the local church to which he is responsible, but his efforts should by no means be confined to the church. The church should, as it were, lend its pastor to the community for such helpfulness to individuals, agencies, and causes as will definitely contribute to the building up of the community as a whole. Program The pastor may help in many or all of the tasks of rural com- munity building that have been suggested heretofore in this out- line on behalf of "better farming, better business, and better living. ' ' BIBLIOGRAPHY THE COUNTRY CHURCH Ashenhurst, J. 0. The Day of the Country Church. Funk, N. Y., 1910. Beard, A. F. Life of John Frederick Oberlin. Pilgrim, Boston, 1909. Bemis, C. 0. The Church in the Country Town. American Baptist Assn., Boston, 1912. Branson, E. C. The Church as a Country Life Defense. Bui. State Normal School, Athens, Ga., 1911. THE COUNTRY CHURCH 453 Bricker, G. A. Solving the Country Church Problem. Eaton, N. Y., 1913. Butterfield, K. L. The Country Church and the Rural Problem. Univ. of Chicago Press, 1011. Carver, T. N. Rural Economy as a Factor in the Success of the Church. Bui. No. 8, Social Service Series, American Unitarian Assoc., Boston. Dubois, Leo L. The Catholic Church and Social Service. The South Mobilizing for Social Service. (Addresses Southern Sociological Congress, 1913), pp. 584-596, Nashville, Tenn. Earp, E. A. The Rural Church Movement. Methodist Book Con- cern, N. Y., 1914. Feeman, Harlan L. The Kingdom and the Farm. Revell, Chicago, 1914. Galpin, C. J. The Country Church an Economic and Social Force. Bui. 278, Agric. Exper. Sta. of Univ. of Wis., Madison, 1917. Gill, C. 0., and Pinchot, Gifford. The Country Church. Macmillan, N. Y., 1913. Six Thousand Country Churches. Macmillan, 1920. Groves, E. R. The Church and the Small Community. Rural Man- hood, Vol. G, May, June, Oct., 1915, and Jan., 1916. Hammond, F. J. The Country Parson. Morehouse, Milwaukee, Wis., 1913. Hart, J. K. The Religious Life of the Community. In his Educa- tional Resources of Village and Rural Communities, pp. 176-197, Macmillan, N. Y., 1913. Hayes, E. C. The Church and the Rural Community. Amer. Journ. of Soc., 16 : 693-695, March, 1911. Israel, Henry. The Country Church and Community Cooperation. Asscc. Press, N. Y., 1913. Macfarland, Charles S. The Protestant Church and Social Service. The South Mobilizing for Social Service. (Addresses Southern Sociological Congress, 1913), pp., 596-612. Masters, V. I. Country Church in the South. Publicity Board of Southern Baptist Convention, Atlanta, ,1916. Miller, G. A. Problems of the Town Church. Revell, Chicago, 1902. Mills, Harlow S. The Making of a Country Parish. Missionary Education Movement of the U. S. and Canada, N. Y., 1914. Practicing Church Unity in Vermont. Conf. of Denominational Super- intendents and Secretaries, Rev. C. C. Merrill, Sec., St. Johnsbury, Vt., April, 1919. Roads, Charles. Rural Christendom. Amer. Sunday School Union, Philadelphia, 1909. Rural Church and Community Betterment. Association Press, N. Y., 1911. Staratt, F. A. The Demands of the Rural Church upon the Theologi- cal Curriculum. Amer. Journal of Theology, 22 : 479-96, October, 1918. Symposium "The Church and the Rural Community." Amer. Jour, of Sociology 16:668-702, March, 1911. Vogt, Paul L. The Church and Country Life. Miss. Educ. Movement, N. Y., 1916. 454 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Wallace, Henry. Remarks on Presentation of Report of Commission Upon the Rural Church Men and Religion Movement. Men and Religion Messages Rural Church, VI : 119-137, Association Press, N. Y., 1912. Wells, George Frederick. The Country Church. In Bailey's Encyclo- pedia of Amer. Agric., IV : 297. The Rural Church. Annals 40: 131-139, March, 1912. Wells, H. S. The Making of a Country Parish. Miss. Educ. Move- ment, N. Y., 1914. Wilson, W. H. The Church of the Open Country. Miss. Educ. Move- ment, N. Y., 1911. The Church at the Center. Miss. Educ. Movement, N. Y., 1914. Surveys of Rural Churches, Department of Church and Country Life, Presbyterian Board of Home Missions, 156 Fifth Ave., N. Y. CHAPTER XVI THE VILLAGE THE HISTORY OF VILLAGE IMPROVEMENT IN THE UNITED STATES 1 WARREN H. MANNING THE precursor of the American village improvement was the early New England village Common, the people's forum, the center of their social and industrial life, a place of recreation, and on it, at Lexington, was t*he opening act of that great drama that led to the American independence. Early, especially Eng- lish, colonists set apart liberal portions of land to be used by householders in common for public landings, pasturage, and from which to secure timber, sedges, and the like, all under restric- tions imposed by the citizens in town meeting. This Common was at first an irregular plot or a very wide street, around or along which the village grew. Many are still retained, sometimes little, sometimes much, diminished by unauthorized encroach- ments of adjacent property owners or by the town's permitting public or semi-public buildings to be placed upon them. Public landings have suffered even more from private appropriation, and most of the "common lands" lying away from the villages became * ' proprietary land, ' ' at an early date, by such acts as the following: Maiden, Massachusetts, in 1694, voted: "Yt ye Common be divided; bottom and top yt is land and wood," and it ordered that commissioners making the division "employ an artist to lay out ye lots." While such acts were legitimate, they were not always wise, for often the same land has been re-pur- chased for public use at large expense. The extent of the illegitimate encroachment of private indi- viduals upon lands reserved for the common good was not realized in Massachusetts until Mr. J. B. Harrison investigated for The i Adapted from the Art World and Craftsman, V: 423-432, Feb., 1904. 455 456 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Trustees of Public Reservations the status of such lands in the sea-shore towns. A typical example of his findings will suffice : "Marshfield formerly had a Common. In earliest times it was the training field. The town gave a religious society a perpetual lease of a part of it as a site for its chapel, and then ran a public road curving diagonally through what remained. During recent years various persons have obtained permission to build sheds on the remnants of the Common, and there is not much of it left for future appropriation. ' ' That street trees were appreciated in the earliest days is evi- denced by the action of a town meeting in Watertown, Massa- chusetts, in 1637, which passed a vote "to mark the shade trees by the roadside with a 'W and fineing any person who shall fell one of the trees thus marked 18 shillings." That this interest was continuous is made evident by the age of existing homestead and roadside trees, very many of which are between one hundred and two hundred years old. This appreciation did not, however, extend far beyond the residential districts, for lumbermen and farmers very generally appropriated to their own use all valuable trees on the public ways unless close to their houses. Notwith- standing this, there were always agreeable, if not always stately, woodland drives, for it required from thirty to fifty years for a crop to grow. To the village common outlying roads rambled in by graceful curves over lines of least resistance as established by Indians, by cows, and by men of good sense. Later, that man of ''much skill" and less sense, the turnpike engineer, by projecting his roads on straight lines, regardless of hill, dale, or water, managed, at great cost, to ruin much of beauty and convenience, just as the road-builders of the West are following section lines with, how- ever, the frequent additional disadvantage of the zig-zag course along two sides of each section. Such engineers and the sur- veyor who made his plans of streets and lots on paper from plotted property-lines and angles without levels and with little regard to existing surface conditions or existing streets, were then and are now destroying great beauty at unnecessary cost. In the early days these outlying roads were of liberal width, usually four, often ten, and sometimes more, rods wide. Such roads have also been encroached upon by adjacent property-owners. THE VILLAGE 457 The first checks to the petty local land and timber thieves came when permanent roads were established over which they dare not reach and, more recently, from the growth of a public sentiment against such encroachments which they dare not challenge. That this early interest in village improvement was more pro- nounced in the older Eastern States, especially in New England, than elsewhere, was probably due to the more compact and direct method of local government represented by the New England town meeting, and by the antecedents of the first settlers. Many causes have contributed to the growth of this movement that sprang into being in the earliest days, and struggled for years in the forests of new movements, and against the weeds of selfish interest, until it is now a sturdy growth with many stout branches and a promise of great fruitfulness. There has been a growing recognition of the distinct utility and the continuous growth in beauty of tree and shrub-planted streets and public reservations and of rural roads following lines suggested by nature. -This growth in beauty, exercising the refining influence that such growth always does, brought about such a quickening of public opinion that unlovely, untidy, and unsafe public and private grounds and public ways, once passed unnoticed, became so pain- fully obvious that action was demanded. At the same time the value of beauty, convenience, and safety as an asset was made obvious by the attractiveness of towns so favored to persons of culture and means who were seeking permanent or summer homes. A first evidence of organized effort to promote these objects ap- peared in the Agricultural Societies that grew out of the earlier 1 1 Societies for Promoting the Arts. ' ' They were formed in South Carolina, Pennsylvania, and Massachusetts a few years before the end of the eighteenth century. They gave considerable atten- tion to the improvement of home grounds, to street -tree planting, and to the preservation and reproduction of the forest. That of Massachusetts, for example, in 1793, offered prizes to persons who should cut and clear the most land in three years, and for the most expeditious method of destroying brush without plowing; but answers to questions sent out at this time showed so alarming a decrease in the forest areas that the policy was reversed and prizes were offered for forest plantations and the management of wood-lots. This same society endowed one of the first botanic 458 RURAL SOCIOLOGY gardens, and is still engaged in good works. The development in such societies of the horticultural interest led, in the first half of the nineteenth century, to the formation in several States of horticultural societies that gave much more attention to these objects and occasional attention to public reservations. During and just after the same period, a number of horticul- tural magazines came into being under the direction of such men as A. J. Downing, Thomas Meehan, and C. M. Hovey, and some literary magazines, especially Putnam's, gave space to the writers on village improvement. Then came the group of writers repre- sented by Bryant and Emerson, whose keen insight into and close sympathy with nature was transmitted to so many of their readers, and, above all, Thoreau, the Gilbert White of America, with a broader point of view, whose writings did not, how- ever, receive their full recognition until much later. It is very significant that two well-marked phases of the "im- provement of towns and cities" should have developed at almost the same time. First, in a studied plan of public grounds, at Washington in 1851, to be followed by the acquirement of a public park and the appointment of a Park Commission in New York in 1857, and second, by the organization of the first village improvement society by Miss Mary G. Hopkins, at Stockbridge, Mass., in 1853. Equally significant- as indicating the impetus the movement is to attain, was the action of the national Gov- ernment a quarter century later in acquiring great reservations, first, like the Yellowstone Park, for their natural beauty, then, later, as forest reservations for economic reasons, and such bat- tlegrounds as that of Gettysburg, on account of their historical associations. The first powerful impetus to village improvement was given by B. G. Northrup, Secretary of the Connecticut State Board of Education, who, in his report of 1869, wrote upon "How to Beautify and Build up Our Country Towns," an article which he states was received with ridicule. He thereafter for years wrote much, lectured often, and before 1880 had organized not less than one hundred societies in the New England and Middle States. His writings were published by the daily papers, and the New York Tribune republished and offered for sale, in 1891, at three dollars per hundred, his "Rural Improvement Associa- THE VILLAGE 459 tions," which he first published in 1880. It is interesting to note some of the objects especially touched upon in this pamphlet : "To cultivate public spirit and foster town pride, quicken in- tellectual life, promote good fellowship, public health, improve- ment of roads, roadsides, and sidewalks, street lights, public parks, improvement of home and home life, ornamental and economic tree planting, improvement of railroad stations, rustic roadside seats for pedestrians, betterment of factory surround- ings." Other men active in the movement during this period were B. L. Butcher, of West Virginia, and Horace Bushnell, in California. That this activity made its impress upon the literature of the day will be evident to those who read " Village and Village Life," by Eggleston, "My Days at Idlewild," by N. P. Willis, and to those who search the files of the New York Tribune and Post and the Boston Transcript, The Horticulturist, Hovey's Magazine, Putnam's Magazine, the Atlantic, Harper's, and others. Much of this writing and the few books devoted to the subject, such as Downing 's "Rural Essays," Scott's "Suburban Home Grounds," and Copeland's "Country Life," had more to do with the improvement of home ground; than with town planning. It was reserved for Mr. Charles Mulford Robinson in his very recent "Improvement of Towns and Cities" and "Modern Civic Art" to give a permanent place in our literature to that phase of the work of town and city improvement, although Bushnell, Olmsted, and others contributed to the subjects in reports, maga- zines and published addresses. During this same period a broader and deeper interest in for- estry and tree-planting was stimulated, especially in the Middle West, by such men as John A. Warder, of Ohio, and Governor J. Sterling Morton of Nebraska, at whose suggestion Arbor Day was first observed in his state, and there officially recognized in 1872. By the observance of this day a multitude of school chil- dren and their parents have become interested in tree-planting on home and school grounds. For this, Mr. Morton deserves the 'same recognition that belongs to Mr. Clapp and the Massa- chusetts Horticultural Society for the beginning and promot- ing of the equally important school-garden movement. Little do we appreciate to what Dr. Warder's forestry move- 460 RURAL SOCIOLOGY ment has led in the West. It has, by its encouragement of home- stead plantations, greatly modified the landscape of the vast central prairie region of our continent, "What was an endless and monotonous sea of grass is now a great procession of ever- changing vistas between groups of trees. It has resulted in our Government's establishing fifty-three reservations containing sixty-two million acres of public forests managed by an efficient department, in establishing state forest commissions and reser- vations, in the formation of national, state and local forestry associations, many of which give quite as much attention to the forest as an element of beauty in landscape and to the preserva- tion of roadside growth and encouragement of public and private tree-planting for beauty alone, as they do to the economic prob- lems. In Massachusetts such an association secured laws plac- ing all town roadside growth in charge of a Tree Warden. The importance of a centralized, instead of the individual property- owner's control, of street trees is receiving general recognition. Mr. Wm. F. Gale, the City Forester of Springfield, Mass., by his enlistment of school children as street tree defenders, has shown how centralized control may greatly stimulate individual interests. A little later in this period there began to flow from the pens of such men as Hamilton Gibson, Bradford Torrey, John Bur- roughs, John Muir, and Ernest Thompson Seton, a literature that has drawn the people so close to nature that they are seeing and feeling keenly the beauty of the common things right about them, and drawing away from the meagerness, garishness, and conventionality of the lawns and lawn planting of the period that followed the decline of the rich, old-fashioned garden of our grandmothers, and began with the vulgar "bedding-out" craze that followed displays at the Philadelphia Centennial. Then came the World's Fair at Chicago, where many men of many arts worked earnestly in harmony, as they had never done be- fore, to produce an harmonious result. This bringing together of artists in the making of the Fair, gave a tremendous impetus to civic and village improvement activities, in common with all others. The American Park and Outdoor Art Association, organized in Louisville in 1897, and giving special attention to the public THE VILLAGE 461 park interests, was the first national association representing the interests under review. In 1900, the American League for Civic Improvement was formed at Springfield to give special attention to improvement associations, in the promotion of which it has been most efficient. The League for Social Service, of New York, is another most efficient association working along similar lines, but giving more attention to sociological subjects. This year the first state association of village improvement so- cieties was organized in Massachusetts. The association, first re- ferred to, invited representatives of all national associations hav- ing similar objects in view to attend its Boston Meeting in 1902, where the action taken resulted in the formation of the Civic Alliance, to be general clearing-house for all activities and ideas represented by these various associations. The leaders of the first two associations, feeling that greater efficiency could be se- cured by working together, have taken action toward a merger, the following sections being suggested for the new association: Arts and Crafts. City Making and Town Improvement. Civic Art. Factory Betterment. Libraries. Parks and Public Reservations. Propaganda. Public Nuisances. Public Recreation. Railroad Improvement. Rural Improvement. School Extension. Social Settlements. Women's Club Work. The National Federation of Women's Clubs, with its mem- bership of over 230,000, has done much" to improve towns and cities through its local clubs. How important this woman's work is can be known only to -those who can appreciate with what moral courage, enthusiasm, and self-denial women will take up new interests, and how often one woman's persistency 462 RURAL SOCIOLOGY and persuasiveness is the impelling force behind important movements for the public good. One of the best evidences that beauty and good order pay, is given by the action of railroad corporations throughout the country, which have, by the improvement of their station grounds and right-of-way, created everywhere a sentiment in favor of village improvement. The United States Government is issuing numerous bulletins that relate to village improvement work, and it recognized the importance of the school garden movement by sending a special representative, Mr. Dick J. Crosby, to the School Garden Ses- sion of the American Park and Outdoor Art Association at its Boston meeting. The National Educational Association also de- voted a session to the same subject at its last meeting. Among universities, Cornell has done great good in establishing courses, and in sending out pamphlets on the improvement of home and school grounds, chiefly under the direction of Professor L. H. Bailey. Through this same agency "Uncle John" Spencer has, by letters to and from a multitude of children, brought them to learn much about the objects in their every-day life, by drawing out their powers of observation, reasoning, and expression. Quite as important are the newspapers and magazines. They are giving much space to the movement, and offering prizes for good work. The Chicago Tribune not only offered prizes in 1891, but gave a page or more to improvement work for several months in succession. The Youth 's Companion has not only given space to the work, but has sent out thousands of pamphlets on village improvement of school grounds. Garden and Forest, during its time, was a powerful agency of the highest order under the direc- tion of Professor Charles S. Sargent, and with Mr. W. A. Stiles as editor. Of the existing publications Country Life in Amer- ica, Park and Cemetery, American Gardening, The House Beau- tiful, House and Garden, Home and Flowers, The Chautauquan, and others, give a large share of their space to improvement work. Since the appointment of a Park Commission in New York to make and administer a park for the people, nearly every large city and many towns have their Park Commission and public parks. States also are acquiring land to preserve natural beauty, THE VILLAGE 463 such as in the Wachusett and Graylock mountain reservations in Massachusetts; for their historic value, as at Valley Forge in Pennsylvania ; for the protection of the drainage basin to a city water supply, as in New York and Massachusetts; for a game and forest preserve, as in Minnesota. Two states have cooper- ated in the acquirement of a reservation for beauty alone, as at the Dalles of the St. Croix, lying partly in Minnesota and partly in Wisconsin, and furthermore, commissions under two governments have cooperated in accomplishing the same purpose at the Niagara Falls Reservation. As an outcome of all this, we may look for the establishment of State Park Commissions, already suggested in Massachusetts, and for which a bill was introduced into the Minnesota legisla- ture, and ultimately a National Park Commission to tie together the great national, state, county, city and town public holdings that will include such dominating landscape features as moun- tains, river-banks, steep slopes, and sea and lake shores: land for the most part of little value for commercial, industrial, or agricultural purposes, but of great value as elements of beauti- ful landscapes. The selection of such lands will ultimately be governed largely by natural and by economic conditions as es- tablished by such bureaus as that of Soil Investigation of the Government, which is engaged in investigating and mapping soil conditions, as well as by the Forestry Bureau already referred to, and others. At present, large areas of private property, many lakes, rivers, and some sea-shore, now in private hands, are opened to the public without restriction: but with an increase in population and in land values, the public will be shut out from all points of vantage that are not held for the common good, as it is now excluded from many miles of sea-and-lake- shore by private owners, where a few years ago there were no restrictions. The work of the village improvement societies should be di- rected toward this movement to make our whole country a park. They should stop the encroachment of individuals upon public holdings, urge individuals to add to such holdings by gifts of land, fine old trees, or groups of old trees, in prominent posi- tions, in town or city landscapes. Every association should se- cure and adopt a plan for the future development of the town 464 RURAL SOCIOLOGY as a whole, showing street extensions and public reservations to include such features in such a way that they may become a part of a more extended system, if this should be brought about in the future. These societies should not undertake the legitimate work of town officials, such as street-lighting, street-tree plant- ing, repair of roads and sidewalks. They should compel the au- thorities to do such work properly, by gathering information and securing illustrations to show how much better similar work is being done in other places, very often at less cost. They should inaugurate activities of which little is known in their community : such as the improvement of school and home grounds, and the establishment of school-gardens and playgrounds. If the policy of such a society be not broad enough to admit the active coop- eration of the ablest men and women of a town, it can accomplish but little. If its methods are not so administered as to instruct up to the highest ideals, its efforts are quite as likely to be as harmful as beneficial. SOCIAL PRIVILEGES OF VILLAGE OR SMALL CITY 1 C. J. GALPIN THE general law has recognized the village as a community. The Visible unity of the village group of houses, stores, and shops has been the main warrant for treating the village or small city as a community all by itself. The people are closely related in business and life and come to feel a real solidarity. The legal provision for incorporation is a presentation of a set of new powers, and new duties to this group of homes as a comprehen- sive social unit. A village legislature, a village executive, the thinkers and actors who individually have succeeded by fore- cast, insight, integrity, and perseverance, are now banded for the village interests. The president or mayor now begins to have his vision widened from a community pedestal, and a new social machine for progress with power is put to work for the common good. i Adapted from Rural Life, pp. 92-94, Century Co., 1918, and Bulletin 34, "The Social Anatomy of an Agricultural Community," pp. 24-28. Agri- cultural Experiment Station, Univ. of Wisconsin, Madison. THE VILLAGE 465 Organizations and institutions spring up instinctively for the village population. It is assumed that there is to be a church or churches. A village without this ancient public agency at once loses caste. The children of villagers of course must have social privilege of instruction in race idealism. Fraternal orders are assumed. Lodges quickly spring up. Human fellowship must have its ritual and mysticism for the villager. The library is assumed. It may wait for a benefactor, but it is counted on. As soon as there is sufficient taxable property the most important and significant assumption is made the village will have a high school. It is taken for granted that the children of the village, children whose roofs are near together, should have the privilege of four years' training in idea organization and work acquaint- ance. Amusement halls, parks, bands, orchestras, and baseball grounds are soon provided. As the village, following its city ideal, moves on into small city government, multiform organ- ized agencies and institutions, voluntary, commercial, or munici- pal in the plane of public health, education, business, informa- tion, soon follow. The institutional reinforcement of the village, along with the growing consciousness of village unity, clothes the villager with a secondary social personality. This is recognized, even though disparaged by the farmer. Prestige is the outcome. Superior- ity is inevitable; but here begin the troubles with a necessary farm population, which the banker, storekeeper, and blacksmith know as the goose that lays the golden egg. The problem is one of pleasing the farmer and getting his trade, without building him and his mind, capacities, and wishes, into the community fabric. The farmer's money is good and necessary and must be obtained and his good will retained; but how to accomplish this object is a problem. Thorough-going incorporation of the farmer into the stream of village activities is frustrated by the fundamental conception of the self-sufficiency of the village. The farmer is presented outright with a few donations, as privileges in order to bind him. Toll, of course, is to be exacted by villagers somewhere. Craft sometimes takes the place of open dealing. The farmer does not share in the control and responsibility of certain things which he occasionally enjoys at the village as a spectator. The outlying farm population is 466 RURAL SOCIOLOGY seldom massed. Its members come to town by team or automo- bile or on foot or horseback, do their business without a resting place of their own, stand on other people's streets, in other peo- ple's shops, and over other people's counters. They go back after some hours of absence to their own lands, occupations, and homes. In the village they are aliens, but aliens with a possible title to be conciliated. The embarrassment is on both sides. The farmer pays in so much in trade he feels that he ought to have consideration; he pays so little directly toward the institutions that the village considers that his rights are not compelling. Puzzle, perplexity, and embarrassment obscure the whole relationship and situation; and the universal process of legalized insulation of village and city away from the farm, which has grown up undisputed, with scarcely a hint of abnor- mality, is constantly shadowed by this overhanging cloud of doubt. The modern village differs from the modern city mainly in this the village industries are related directly to the needs of the outlying population on the land in addition to the needs of the village population. The city contains industries related to peo- ple scattered over the territory of county, state, or nation. As soon as a village obtains one knitting mill, or a latch factory, or plow works, or iron smelter and the like, whose products go to people who are not otherwise interested in the village, it begins to possess the problems of a city. As this process continues, it becomes less and less dependent upon the agricultural popula- tion within its immediate farm trade zone, and more and more upon scattered peoples of various sorts, who may never see the city. As the small city grows, outstripping its adjoining vil- lages, these villages become more or less consciously satellites of the city. Wholesale needs are met in this city for village merchants, and special retail customers come to buy clothing and furniture from larger stocks. A trade clientele is formed reaching out over a county, or two, or three, of these seasonal or occasional village and farm buyers. This smaller city, then, has a significance for several communities, and becomes an inter- community center. Beyond this is the state center for trade the metropolis, with national importance. So long as a small city is agricultural in its clientele, the land THE VILLAGE 467 allied to it is a permanent social factor from generation to gen- eration. It is a part of the equipment of the perennial ele- mental industry of this city or village. Were there a knitting mill on the edge of a small city, with five hundred employees living about the mill, this whole industry land, buildings, and people would be unquestionably part and parcel of the city. In like manner surrounding the agricultural city is a huge con- tinuous nature industry, not directly unified to be sure, but real and actually united just the same. Every inch of advance on the farm in intelligent skill, man- agerial ability, moral control, governmental development, will be reflected in the little city by an increased farm consumption of goods, higher grades of farm desire, and better qualities of farm citizenship ; whereas the same qualities of skill, intelligence, and integrity in the city will be quickly transmitted to the farm and to the advantage of the population on the land, if avenues of social intercourse between "wheel and hub" are open wide. Our study shows that the farm homes in the trade zone of a small city share with the city homes the major commercial and social interests requiring combined capital of many to carry on. Circumstances hitherto have hindered the large-scale development of some of these enterprises among the farm homes, but these circumstances may not be in fact need not be permanent ; for the same incentive which has led the city population to spend some of its surplus profits upon equipment for religion, higher education, government, information, art, leisure, and play, is present in a latent form in the farm population, simply ready to be induced to join hands in an alliance of fair play. THE TOWN'S MORAL PLAN 1 HARLAN PAUL DOUGLASS IT is possible for the little town to have a moral plan, approxi- mated through conscious standards of social control. As every- where, human conduct is determined chiefly by the natural ac- quiescence of the human spirit in the ways of the social order i Adapted from "The Little Town," pp. 115-120, Macmillan, N. Y., 1919. 468 RURAL SOCIOLOGY into which it is born. In the main these ways satisfy the indi- vidual; even the rebel is too unoriginal to depart from them. Moral sentiment and social convention do most of their work without need of law or police. The control of conduct through social tradition is, however, not so simple as the formula sounds ; there are traditions rather than a tradition. Not only is there still a dash of frontier wild- ness surviving as lawlessness in the little towns of much of the country, but the little towns as a group are peopled largely by those who formerly lived in the country and who are still largely dominated by the countryman's point of view. In brief, they are incompletely socialized. Their people cling to country ways in spite of new environment. Thus in matters of sanita- tion, the maintenance of the barnyard manure pile is a sacred private right worth dying for, as a symbol of our liberties ; or on the other hand, as the little town grows there come to be those who want to push on prematurely into city ways for the free- dom of which they contend as martyrs to new light. In short the struggle is always on between existing conditions and ad- vancement. Now, any group of people which is distinctively at outs with environment presents a serious moral problem. Just as the spirit of youth is inevitably at war with the necessary limitations of the city streets, so the rural mind is at war with little-town conditions. Hence the necessity of vigorous moral control in order to conform the individual to the requirements of collective life. The minor struggle between traditions, the give and take of moral sentiments in search of equilibrium, the clash between temperaments, ages and views of life will go on normally for- ever. But no community can do anything in the direction of its ideals till the fact and main tendencies of social control are settled. The little town may as well face its battle and have it over. The necessary ordinances of safety and decency are to be obeyed. Pigs and poultry will be the most frequent issue. Their economic value under town conditions must first be de- termined. If it is best to keep them at all, the whole wearying round of issues must be pursued agitation, education, a contest in local politics, a suit at law or two, a clash at wills and of per- sonal sentiments all along the line. THE VILLAGE 469 While all moral battles must be waged on every front at once, it is possible to discern a sort of pedagogical order in which the offensive should be undertaken. It would be foolish to make 1h<> first issue that of closing cigar stands on Sunday, which at best would only stir the conscience of a fraction of the community, or that of enforcing liquor laws, which always involves a contest with formidable interests from outside the community. Rather the battle should be drawn on some community issue pure and simple, in which the enforcing of the collective against the in- dividualistic viewpoint involves some broadly fundamental but localized field. When the battle is fought to a finish here other victories will come more easily. The most difficult yet necessary phases of the little town's struggle for moral standards are those involving outside in- terests not directly amenable to the community conscience. They are often said to "interfere" with the community; if so they must be made to interfere helpfully as well as harmfully. The most frequent and insidious of these interests is the organized liquor traffic, although often the interests of alien corporations clash with those of the community and interfere in a similar way. In these cases the essential nature of the problem is that it is not local in character. Local tools are used, but the prin- cipals to the conflict are too remote to feel local pressure. Under such circumstances the only resource of the little town is to combine with other communities using the resources of state- wide publicity, organization and political action. The unro- mantic, perpetual, straight-away pull of law-enforcement with all its costs in time, money and personal discomfort, is the in- evitable price of community morals in their wider setting. Even more difficult than law enforcement, but affecting more people in more ways and entering more subtly into community life, are the problems of social control in the round of social intercourse ; of amusements, particularly for youth ; the prob- lems of standards of consumption registered by the expenditure of money, and of the use of leisure. The concrete forms in which these issues confront the little town are the party, the dance, theater and amusement place ; dress, travel, Sunday ob- servance and the like. Probably the most rational method of precipitating a body of 470 RURAL SOCIOLOGY agreements in these debatable fields is that of the voluntary ref- erendum, which has been tried out in a number of communities. It is proposed usually by the federation of women's organiza- tions and consists simply in a systematic canvass of the most influential and earnest members of all classes and tendencies in the community, to see what they think the reasonable standards for "our town" are. At what hour should the parties of high school young people close? How many times a week should growing boys and girls be away from home at night ? What is a reasonable scale of entertainment at club functions? How much should the cost of graduating dress and attending functions be? What are the reasonable terms of social association be- tween adolescents of the two sexes? When the results of such questions are generalized and announced a considerable range of choice is still open, but weak-kneed parents are strengthened to enforce some kind of a standard. It is easier for the poorer hostess not to spend more than she should. The ultra-puritanical are restrained and the way to rational agreements is open. Surely this is better than the eternal anxiety of the little town as to what is right and proper in social matters, the harsh judg- ments of the stricter upon the less strict, the internal difficulties by which a man's foes are often they of his own household. In some such ways as the above the steadying force of social standards may be thus vitally evolved without hardening into unyielding, clashing and non-progressive traditions. So far the discussion has concerned the logical fundamentals of little-town betterment. It is quite another thing to make a constructive program of social advance. All merely formal di- rections, and especially negative ones for the control of life, will and ought to fail. The most vitalizing possibility of the lit- tle town is that of having a positive program secured by the con- tinuous activities of the institutions of education and service, and by the direct pursuit of wholesome ideals by individuals. One who sees life steadily and sees it whole will not attempt to deal compulsorily with structural fundamentals without at the same time creating an atmosphere in which wholesome com- munity choices may take place. He will not dare to specialize on law enforcement until he has created the playground and appreciated the spiritual aspects of recreation. He will not at- THE VILLAGE 471 tempt to make social standards for his fellows except as he can present a vision of normal life compelling in its attractiveness. But on the other hand, and equally, the most idealistic and spon- taneous community movements will wander far without a well planned physical basis of town life ; without a well ordered eco- nomic program through which people can win a livelihood and pay the cost of their collective enterprises ; without a firm basis in human health through the facilities of public safety and sani- tation; and without a substantial though flexible moral frame- work within which individual destinies may be wrought out. On these greatest civic commandments hang all the law and the prophets of community welfare. CIVIC IMPROVEMENT IN VILLAGE AND COUNTRY * FRANK A. WAUGH THE rural population of the United States has always been noted for its public spirit and patriotism. At the same time, it has been recognized that the farmers themselves have benefited least from their own public spirit. They have generally been unable to act in their own interests. For this reason, rural com- munities should give special heed to the modern movement for civic improvement. Civic improvement may be accepted as a convenient term to designate all efforts made toward the betterment of the physical conditions of the community. It refers, therefore, especially, to those matters in which the public is interested. Some of the important items in the physical equipment for community life are: (1) Roads and streets, including bridges, street railways, and street trees. (2) Public grounds, such as parks, commons, lakes, water- fronts, and cemeteries. (3) Public and quasi-public buildings, such as school houses, town halls, libraries and churches. i Adapted from Extension Circular, No. 11, Mass. Agricultural College, Amherst, March, 1917. 472 RURAL SOCIOLOGY (4) Public recreation facilities, especially playgrounds. (5) Public service equipment, such as telephone lines, elec- tric light lines, railway stations and grounds. (6) Private grounds inasmuch as the improvement of private grounds adds greatly to the attractiveness of any community. Civic improvement then is an enterprise applicable to cities, villages, or country districts, in fact to every civilized commun- ity. Inasmuch as the great cities possess an undue proportion of the wealth and initiative of the nation, they may be expected to take care of their own interests along these lines. Country districts and rural villages, however, have equal need to im- prove to the utmost their physical surroundings. The country as well as the city needs good roads, suitable public grounds, modern school buildings, libraries and churches, and all the im- proved equipment of twentieth century civilization. It is the purpose of civic improvement to achieve, as rapidly as practicable, every possible advance in the community equip- ment as already denned. These improvements can be secured by: (1) Informing the public as to present conditions, needed improvements, and means of securing the same. (2) Securing professional and technical advice on pending improvements. (3) Foreseeing and planning ahead for coming changes, thus avoiding expensive mistakes and reconstructions. (4) Adopting definite and coordinated plans for community betterment. (5) Forming improvement programs according to which successive enterprises are taken up in an agreed and logical order. (6) Assigning particular enterprises to particular groups or organizations, e.g. the Grange may assume responsibility for the roads, the Woman's Club for the school houses and playgrounds, one church for the public cemetery, another for the town common, etc. Civic improvement, therefore, is not a newfangled luxury, not a new means of spending public money, but a means of THE VILLAGE 473 economizing money. At the same time, it is expected to ac- complish substantially better results for the community. Civic improvement usually succeeds best under the direction of some live, local organization. This may be a village improve- ment society, or it may be some association which exists pri- marily for another purpose but which undertakes also to assist in the physical upbuilding of the community in which it lives. The work in some towns has been definitely undertaken by the Grange, though seldom with a sufficiently comprehensive plan. In some communities, it has been successfully prosecuted by women's clubs. Where no organization already exists, or where no existing organization is ready to take up the work, the best plan is often to form a central committee or federation com- posed of delegates from existing organizations, such as lodges, churches, women's clubs, men's clubs, etc. Under recent Massa- chusetts legislation the formation of a town planning board has come to be one of the best methods of securing permanent re- sults. Whatever local organization may be in charge of the work, outside advice and expert assistance should be frequently called in. This is highly important. As the bulk of civic improvement is applied to public works, and as the whole of it is designed for the public good, the bills should be paid chiefly from the public treasury. An indispen- sable part of a civic betterment campaign is to see that public money is wisely and honestly used. The immediate contingent expenses of the village improvement society may be met by private contributions, by fairs or entertainments, or by any means most acceptable to the community. Commonly the leading problems presented in a community improvement program are as follows: (a) approaches, (b) streets, including trees, (c) civic centers, (d) commons, (e) public buildings, (f) playgrounds, (g) private grounds, (h) maintenance. A full discussion of all these problems would re- quire an entire volume, but the main issues may be pointed out briefly herewith. Every town and every rural district should have suitable means of access. We hear a great deal nowadays of isolated communi- ties, meaning those which are hard to reach. Easy access comes by well-kept roads, by well-managed trolley lines, or by rail- 474 RURAL SOCIOLOGY roads. The entrance to a village or country district should be direct, inviting, and hospitable. The front door to a town should have the same qualities as the front door of one's own home. Good roads are a primary part of civic betterment, and the campaign for good roads is perennial. Better methods of road building are needed, and more permanent roads are especially desirable. In many cases, roads and streets should be relocated before permanent improvements are made. Such relocations should secure more direct lines and easier grades. The work of the Massachusetts Highway Commission has developed some striking examples of improvement by relocation. Many similar improvements can be secured by the towns themselves, if only proper thought is given to the matter. In Massachusetts, every town should have a tree warden, and should make sure that he is a competent man and that he at- tends to his work. In the face of the unusual pests which we have to meet, the salvation of street trees can be secured only by heroic efforts. It is depressing to think what our village streets and country lanes would be like, should the street trees disap- pear. The best modern, scientific care should be given to pre- serve the trees now standing, and at the same time annual plant- ings of young trees should be made to make good the unavoid- able losses. The villages are the natural centers of political, business and social life in New England communities. They should be worthy of such an important office. Moreover, at such centers should be grouped the buildings which represent the public life of the community, such as town hall, library, school-houses, post-office, etc. Substantial advantages are gained by grouping these build- ings instead of scattering them. In general, the best arrange- ment is to have them front upon the town common, but never should they be placed upon the Common itself. The small central greens located in the hearts of many New England villages are a public asset of the highest value. They should be most jealously guarded. They should be well kept, in every particular. It is especially important as a general prin- ciple that no architectural or ornamental construction of any kind should be permitted on the Common. Public buildings are particularly damaging, but neither is the Common any place for THE VILLAGE 475 any kind of fountain, statue, or bandstand. Such ornaments or conveniences may often be located advantageously on the street margin or extreme outer angle of the town common, but under no circumstances should they be placed on the Common itself. Mistake is very common in this matter. Every effort should be made to secure public buildings of the best character. Every town hall and every library ought to be something which the community can be proud of. A public building which is a public shame is a constant influence to de- grade the spirit of the community. The effort for good, attrac- tive, dignified, and even beautiful public buildings needs to be directed especially to the school-houses. Every school-house ought to set a good example daily to the school children. Un- fortunately, many school-houses are cheap, shabby, and even dirty. Country villages and rural communities generally are notably lacking in playgrounds. There is no space reserved where boys may play ball without trespassing on private property. Even the school-houses are insufficiently provided with play room out of doors. There ought to be ample room and encouragement for play in the country. In this way, one incentive which young people find for going to the city would be materially weakened. When private lawns are well kept, gardens made attractive, and grounds generally beautified, the public enjoyment is greatly increased. Nothing does more toward making a town attractive than to have the private grounds improved. Such garden im- provements may be promoted by the village improvement society through offering prizes, the arrangement of special school instruc- tion, and by many other means. This is an important line of civic improvement work. The most important things in housekeeping are cleanliness and good order; likewise, the most important things in commun- ity life are cleanliness and good order. The streets and public places should be kept clean, the grass mown, weeds cut out, and everything kept in its place. The common should not be allowed to accumulate Sunday papers, nor the cemetery be allowed to grow up to brush. In fact, this regular routine of keeping clean should reasonably occupy a large proportion of the time, efforts and funds at the disposal of any improvement organization. 476 RURAL SOCIOLOGY BIBLIOGRAPHY Anderson, Wilbert L. The Country Town. Baker, New York, 1906. Baden-Powell, Baden H. Indian Village Communities. Longmans, N. Y. Origin and Growth of Village Communities in India. Scribner, N. Y., 1899. Bailey, Liberty H. The Place of the Village in the Country Life Movement. In his York State Rural Problems, 2 : 148-157, Lyon, Albany, 1913. Bennet, Ernest N. Problems of Village Life. Holt, N. Y., 1914. Bird, Chas. S. Jr. Town Planning for Small Communities. Apple- ton, N. Y., 1917. Blaekmar, F. W. Social Degeneration in Towns and Rural Districts. Conf. Charities and Corrections, 1900, 315 Plymouth Court, Chi- cago. Bookwalter, J. H. Agricultural Town. In his Rural vs. Urban, N. Y., 1910. (Privately printed by author.) Brunner, Edmund de S. Cooperation in Coopersburg. Missionary Edn. Movement, N. Y., 1916. Douglass, Harlan Paul. The Little Town. Macmillan, 1919. Dunn, Arthur W. An Analysis of the Social Structure of a Western Town. University of Chicago, 1896. Farrington, Frank. Community Development. Ronald, N. Y., 1915. Farwell, Parris T. Village Improvement. Sturgis, N. Y., 1913. Fitch, George H. Homeburg Memories. Little, Boston, 1915. Fustel de Coulanges, Numa D. The Ancient City. Lee, Boston, 1901. Galpin, Charles J. The Social Anatomy of a Rural Community. Univ. of Wis. Research Bulletin, No. 34, Madison. Rural Relations of the Village and Small City. Univ. of Wis. Bul- letin, No. 411, Madison. Gillin, S. Y. Community Development and the State University. Town Development, Vol. 12 : 99. Hart, Joseph K. Educational Resources of Village and Rural Com- munities. Macmillan, New York, 1913. Hartman, Edward T. Village Problems and Characteristics. Annals, 40:234-243, March, 1912. Maine, Henry J. S. Village Communities in the East and West. Holt, N. Y., n. d. Masters, Edgar L. The Spoon River Anthology. Macmillan, New York, 1915. McVey, Frank L. The Making of a Town. McClurg, Chicago, 1913. Nolan, John. Comprehensive Planning for Small Towns and Villages. Bui. 16, American Unitarian Assn., Boston. Origin, Organization and Influence of the Towns of New England. Proceedings Mass. Hist. Society, Boston, Jan., 1866. Robinson, Charles M. The Improvement of Towns and Villages. Put- nam, N. Y., 1909. Sims, Newell L. A Hoosier Village. Longmans, N. Y., 1912. The Rural Community, Ancient and Modern. Chas. Scribner's Sons, N. Y., 1920, THE VILLAGE 477 Small, A. W., and Vincent, G. E. The Village, An Introduction to the Study of Society. Pp. 127-143, American, N. Y., 1894. Stubbs, C. W. Village Politics. Macmillan, N. Y., 1878. Vogt, Paul L. Introduction to Rural Sociology. Appleton, N. Y., 1917. Village Growth and Decline in Ohio. American City, 13 : 481-5, December, 1915. Waugh, Frank A. Rural Improvement. Orange Judd, N. Y., 1914. CHAPTEE XVII THE SURVEY THE SURVEY IDEA IN COUNTRY LIFE WORK * L. H. BAILEY THE scientific method is first to determine the exact facts, and then to found the line of action on these facts. That is the way in which all problems must be attacked if real and permanent solutions are to be found. The scientific method in engineering and mechanics and biology and the rest has been responsible for the high development of civilization within the past century. Similar methods must be applied to rural work. We must finally found all our progress in rural life on a close study of the facts and the real elements in the situation, in order that we may know exactly what we are talking about. The prevailing politi- cal methods have been the antithesis of this ; they have too often been the methods of opportunism. Surveys may be of many kinds and for many purposes. Some of them may be for temporary uses only, in the nature of ex- plorations or to set forth a particular line of ideas. The real rural survey should be an agency of record; and it is this type of effort that I am now discussing. We must distinguish sharply between such a survey, made slowly and studiously, and an inspection, a canvass, or a cam- paign. These lighter efforts may be very necessary, but they usually do not constitute an investigation, and they belong to a different order of inquiry. The general or gross reconnaisance, to bring together quickly for comparison the outstanding features and conditions of many communities, may have much value ; but it should be undertaken only by persons of experience in detailed survey-work and of i Adapted from "York State Rural Problems," Vol. 1:238-261. J. B. Lyon & Co., Albany. 478 THE SURVEY 479 ripened judgment. It is one of the most difficult forms of survey-work, if it is to have real value. It must be much more than a car-window exercise. When properly undertaken, it is a new and useful application of geography. There is a great dan- ger that the overhead reconnaisance will be little more than prac- tice in aviation. If a survey of any region or phase is to be a record of fact, then it must be strictly scientific in spirit, as I have already in- dicated. It must discover and set down every fact of signifi- cance, wholly apart from any prejudice or bias in the mind of the observer: the fact is its own justification. The work can- not be as precise as that in the mathematical and physical sciences; but in its purpose it must be as scientific as any work in any subject. If the work is scientific, then it will not be undertaken for the purpose of exploiting a movement, recruiting an associa- tion, spreading a propaganda, advertising a region, sustaining a political organization, or promoting the personal ambition of any man. There is indication that survey work will soon become popular ; there is danger that it will be taken up by institutions that desire to keep themselves before the public and by locali- ties and states that desire to display their advantages. It will be easy to marshal statements and arrange figures, and par- ticularly to omit facts, in such a way as to make a most attrac- tive showing. Even some honest investigators will be likely to arrange the material in such a way as to prove a point rather than to state the facts, unless they are very much on their guard. If country-life surveys have possibilities of great good, they have equal possibilities of great danger. I am glad that the move- ment is going slowly at first. The intention of survey work in agriculture is to make a rec- ord of the entire situation and to tell the whole truth. Frag- mentary surveys and piece-work, however good they may be in themselves, do not represent the best effort in surveys. Prac- tically all our surveys have thus far been fragmentary or unre- lated, but this is the work of a beginning epoch. We shall al- most necessarily be obliged to do- still further fractional and detached work ; but it is time that we begin to train the imagina- tion on completer and sounder programs. The whole basis and 480 RURAL SOCIOLOGY condition of the rural community must be known and recorded. The community must know where it stands. It must understand its assets and its liabilities. Survey work is legitimate wholly aside from its application. I have no patience with the doctrine of "pure science," that science is science only as it is uncontaminated by application in the arts of life ; and I have no patience with the spirit that con- siders a piece of work to be legitimate only as it has direct bear- ing on the arts and affairs of men. We must discover all things that are discoverable and make a record of it: the application will take care of itself. The application of science lies not alone in its employment in particularities here and there, but quite as much in the type of mind and the philosophy of life that result from it. If we knew our exact rural status in materials, ac- complishments and deficiencies we should by that very fact have a different outlook on the rural problem and a surer process of attacking it. We should do little guessing. We should correct many vagaries and many a foolish notion to which we now are all, no doubt, very much given. We should not be obliged to follow blind or self-wise leaders. A substantial body of accu- mulated fact would set bounds to the promoter and the agitator and the schemer. The result of survey-work in agriculture should be to tie the community together. Such work would provide a basis for real judgment on the part of every intelligent resident of the neigh- borhood. One interest would be tied up with another. Apple- growing would not be distinct from wheat-growing, or church work from school work, or soil types from the creamery business, or politics from home life. The vicinage would be presented to the citizen as a whole. Nothing, in my opinion, would do so much to develop pride of neighborhood, local patriotism, and community common sense as a full and complete knowledge of what the community is in its resources, its history, its folks, its industries, its institutions, and its tendencies. When the survey idea is once understood and begun, every locality will desire to be represented. Certain regions will de- velop full surveys, and the reports will be standard ; the surveys of intermediate localities may not need to be so elaborate or minute. THE SURVEY 481 When we fully understand our problem, we shall make our best surveys in consecutive order. We may classify all phases of survey-work freely under three groups physical, economic, social ; and the order of the surveys should preferably follow this sequence. We should first know what the region is geography, physiography, climate, resources, soils; then what it does the farming, the industries, the markets, the business, the profit-and- loss ; then how it lives its people, its homes, its health, its insti- tutions, its modes of expression, its outlook. I very much doubt the lasting value of surveys of church or school or particular crops or special products that are not founded on a good knowl- edge of the physical and economic conditions of the region. FIVE PRINCIPLES OF SURVEYS 1 PAUL U. KELLOGG FIRST of all, the survey takes its unit of work from the sur- veyor. It has to do with a subject matter, to be sure, but that subject matter is subordinated to the idea of a definite geo- graphical area. It is quite possible to carry on a study of tuber- culosis, for example, as a piece of physiological research, or as a piece of sociological research, wholly apart from where it occurs. But just as geological survey is not geology in general, but the geology of a given mountain range or water shed, so, even when a special subject matter is under study, the sociological survey adds an element of locality, of neighborhood or city, state or region, to what would otherwise pass under the general term of an investigation. And when the subject matter is not specialized, but concerns the more intangible "needs" of a community, the survey becomes necessarily different things in different localities. It cannot be thought out at a far-away desk. It is responsive to local con- ditions ; in a worn-out country district, suffering from what Pro- fessor Ross calls "folk-depletion," its content has little in com- mon with that of a survey in a textile center, tense with human activity, and dominated by its terms of work. i Adapted from "The Spread of the Survey Idea," Proceedings Acad. of Political Science, Vol. 2, No. 4, July, 1912. Columbia Univ., N. Y. 482 RURAL SOCIOLOGY In the second place, the survey takes from the physician his art of applying to the problems at hand standards and expe- rience worked out elsewhere. To illustrate, if your pure scien- tist were studying the housing situation in a given town, he would start out perhaps without any hypotheses, tabulate every salient fact as to every house, cast up long columns of figures, and make careful deductions, which might and might not be worth the paper they were written on. Your housing reformer and your surveyor ought to know at the start what good ventilation is, and what cellar dwellings are. These things have been studied elsewhere, just as the medical profession has been study- ing hearts and lungs until they know the signals which tell whether a man's organs are working right or not, and what to look for in making a diagnosis. In the third place, the survey takes from the engineer his working conception of the structural relation of things. There is a building element in surveys. When we look at a house, we know that carpenters have had a good deal to do with it, and it is possible to investigate just what the carpenters have done; also the bricklayers, the steam-fitters and the rest of the building trades. But your engineer, like your general contractor and architect, has to do with the work of each of these crafts in its relation to the work of every other. So it is with a survey, whether it deals with the major elements entering into a given community which has structural parts of a given master prob- lem such as Dr. Palmer describes in his survey of the sanitary conditions in Springfield. Only recently I received a letter from a man engaged in making a general social survey of a manufac- turing town a so-called survey. He did not think that it was truly a survey, nor did I, because out of the scope of that in- vestigation had been left all of the labor conditions in the mills. The local committee had been fearful of raising opposi- tion in forceful quarters. Yet these labor conditions were basic in the town's life; on them, for better or worse, hung much of the community welfare; and by ignoring them, the committee could deal with partial solutions only. It was as if a diagnosti- cian in making his examination had left a patient 's stomach out of consideration because the patient was a dyspeptic and irri- table. They had violated the structural integrity of their survey. THE SURVEY 483 In the fourth place, the survey takes from the charity-organ- ization movement its case-work method of bringing problems down to human terms. Death rates exemplify human units in the barest essentials; but I have in mind a more developed unit. Let me illustrate from the Pittsburgh Survey in the pains- taking figures we gathered of the household cost of sickness lost wages, doctor's bills, medicines, ice, hospitals, funerals, the aftermath of an epidemic in lowered vitality and lowered earn- ings, household by household not in sweeping generalizations but in what Mr. Woods called "piled-up actualities." If I were to set one touchstone, more than another, to differentiate the true survey from social prospecting, it would be this case-work method. In employing it the surveyor, because of lack of means and time, must often deal with samples rather than with the whole population coming within the scope of his study. These samples may be groups of school children ; or the people who die in a certain year ; or those who live in a certain ward. The method is one, of course, which is scientifically justifiable only so long as those who employ it can defend their choice of the sample chosen, and show where it does and does not represent the entire group. Under this head it is to be noted that the survey is in a field friendly to what we have come to call municipal research. The latter is indebted for its methods of unit-costs and efficiency to the accountants. These 'methods may be applied to city budgets and city departments as an integral part of a social survey, the distinction between the two movements in practice being perhaps that the one is focused primarily on governmental operations ; the other on phenomena imbedded in the common life of the people. In the fifth place, the survey takes from the journalist the idea of graphic portrayal, which begins with such familiar tools of the surveyor as maps and charts and diagrams, and reaches far through a scale in which photographs and enlargements, drawings, casts and three-dimension exhibits exploit all that the psychologists have to tell us of the advantages which the eye holds over the ear as a means for communication. With these the survey links a sturdy effort to make its findings have less in common with the boredom of official reports than with the more engaging qualities of newspaper "copy" especially that 484 RURAL SOCIOLOGY simplicity of structure, tangible framework, and readability which American magazine men have developed as their technique in writing for a democracy. This is not a counsel, bear in mind, of flimsy sensationalism; although those who have matters to conceal seek to confuse the two. A startling article patched up from a few glints of fact is a very different proposition from a crystal set in a matrix of tested information. Underlying this factor of graphic portrayal is the factor of truth; truth plus publicity. It is often possible to work out large and definite reforms internally, by getting a group of forceful men around a table and convincing them that so and so is the right thing to do. This is, I take it, a legitimate method of philanthropic work and of social reform. But it is not the method of a survey. The survey's method is one of publicity; it is another and separate implement for social ad- vance, and its usefulness should not be negatived by a failure to hold to its distinctive function. The philosophy of the sur- vey is to set forth before the community all the facts that bear on a problem, and to rely upon the common understanding, the common forethought, the common purpose of all the people as the first great resource to be drawn upon in working that prob- lem out. Thus conceived, the survey becomes a distinctive and powerful implement of democracy. A METHOD OF MAKING A SOCIAL SURVEY OF A RURAL COMMUNITY * C. J. GALPIN AN ANALYSIS OF A RURAL COMMUNITY What Is a Rural Community? There are three fundamen- tal types of association in well developed country life: homes, neighborhoods, communities. A neighborhood is a collection of homes having one or two important common interests such as a district school, or a mill, or an open-country church. The neighborhood may be a number of homes somewhat near together 1 Adapted from Circular 29, the UniversHy of Wisconsin Agricultural Experiment Station, Madison. THE SURVEY 485 all belonging to the same foreign race, such as a German settle- ment. A specially genial hospitality in one prominent home may kindle the spirit of neighbbrliness in homes nearby and give name to the neighborhood, such as the Brown neighbor- hood. A community, on the other hand, is made up of all the homes which try to meet, in connection with each other at a common center, the fundamental common needs, such as food, clothing, implements, money, high school education, religious instruction, amusement, fraternal organization. The center of the commu- nity is usually a village ranging in population from 300 to 3,000 people and it serves a community area ranging from 16 to 100 square miles. The people living in the village, on the whole, are engaged in business mainly to supply the needs of the outlying farm homes of that community. The village center is the pantry, safe, shop, medicine chest, play-house, altar, of the community at large. The village homes in thus serving the scattered homes of the rural population as social agents of trade, education, health, amusement, etc., are distinctly a part of the country community itself. Important Social Agencies. In every rural community will be found from ten to forty different organizations, such as schools, churches, library, Sunday Schools, lodges, study clubs, breeders' association, band, baseball teams, and the like. These are the important social agencies of community life. A club or society or other organization is a social machine which brings the power of a number of people to bear all at once on an im- portant common interest, and brings results to the people con- cerned which no one of them could get by acting alone. A list of the permanent organizations found in a community will show what large interests are considered important there, and will also show just how far this community has been successful in applying the associative principle to its common life. A Community Photograph. A social survey is an attempt to photograph, so to speak, the community so as to show every home in all its social connections with all other homes in the com- munity. A glance at this socialized community photograph will reveal the lines of strong, healthy socialization and at the same 486 RURAL SOCIOLOGY time disclose the spots and lines of feeble association. An intel- ligent social planning for the community can be based on the social facts thus discovered. HOW TO TAKE THE SOCIAL SURVEY Determine the Community Boundary. The first step in mak- ing the survey is to locate your rural community and draw the boundary lines. Begin at the village center and go west into the open country. The first farm home goes to this village for trade, doctor, high school, church, etc. It therefore belongs to this community. So the second home west, the third, fourth, etc. Finally you come to a home that turns the other way to another village for its principal needs. This home does not be- long to your community. Connect with a line all the most dis- tant homes in each direction, that you find turning to the activ- ities in your village center. This line will be the boundary of your community. Take a Home Census. The next step is the taking of a cen- sus of every farm home and village home within the boundary line. Use the "Rural Home Census" blanks furnished by the College of Agriculture of the University of Wisconsin. Every home should be visited for this purpose by some careful person. The information will be gladly given by some one in the home. Every fact asked for is practically a matter of public knowledge and a source of some pride. Include every child in the home and every hired man and hired woman and any other person permanently residing in the home. The value of the census will depend upon getting every home, getting the facts accurately, and putting these facts plainly and carefully in their right places on the census sheet. Take an Organization Census. The third step is a census of every organization in the community. Use the census sheet furnished by the College of Agriculture of the University of Wisconsin, one sheet for each organization. Include every dis- trict school, every other school, every church, Sunday school, every society in the church which holds separate meetings, such as Brotherhoods, Young People's Societies, Ladies' Aid Socie- ties, Mission Societies; include every fraternal order, lodge, club or association of any sort, such as a band, singing club, I :2 1 i! i I ! 5 |-s-s l i s .J!l 5 < i: 12 S3 tiJ ||| 111 l i -S 2 s C J -J a-s > I i< s- I 111! s ^ u =3 ^-s - r'*3'5 ^ Isle 3 > < 3 i THE SURVEY 487 amusement club, base ball club. Omit no group of people that have a name and regular meetings more or less frequent. Do not fail to get the list of resident members. Value here will depend upon accuracy. A courteous request to the secretary of each organization will undoubtedly be responded to with all the facts desired. Make Community Maps. The information obtained by the home census, while valuable in itself, can be made far more useful by a system of communitj^ maps. Draw a map of your community on white card board or cloth-backed paper about forty inches by thirty-six. Put in all the roads and the village center limits. Locate every farm home on this map by a round black dot a quarter of an inch in diameter. Make a separate map of the village, locating all homes by the black dot. Total Socialization Map. Make a list of all organizations in the community as found by the organization census. Give a dif- ferent color to each organization. Then make little round seals one quarter of an inch in diameter out of colored papers of these same colors. Take one farm home census sheet at a time, and see what organizations are represented in this home. Stick one seal to the edge of the black dot locating the home, to rep- resent connection with an organization which has one or more members in this home only one seal, however many the mem- bers. Then to the outer edge of this seal stick one more seal representing the next organization found in the home, and so on, until you have a line of seals of different colors on the map, which shows at a glance exactly what organizations have mem- bership in this home. Treat each farm home in the same way, and the result will be a community map showing the total so- cial connections of all the farm homes. Proceed in the same way with the village map, and the two maps side by side will show the total social relations of all homes in the community. A Tenant and Owner Map. On another map containing all the farm homes, you can attach seals of one color for tenants and seals of another color for owners occupying the farm. This will show at a glance the situation of the tenant problem. School Maps. An interesting map can be made showing all the homes having some children of graded school age not in school along with those homes where such children are all in 488 RURAL SOCIOLOGY school. In the same manner a map can be made showing the extent to which the homes make use of the high school. A Sunday School Map. A map can be made showing homes containing children going to school but not to Sunday school, along with those containing children all going to Sunday school. Possible Maps. A Newspaper Map. A Magazine Map. Community Events Map. Library Map. Homes With and Without Children. Foreign Born Map. Hired Help Map. Combination Maps. Perhaps the most valuable kind of map is made by the combination of one set of facts about each home with another set of facts. For example, a certain colored seal may be given to residence of a home in the community for a period of at least five years. Give a colored seal to church mem- bership (whatever the particular denomination). Then com- bine in one map these two seals. The result will show whether churches have been making their normal appeal to the more recent comers into the community. A score or more of such important combination maps are possible. Make an Organization Chart. An interesting and instruc- tive comparative table can be made of all the different organiza- tions in your community. Follow the divisions called for in the organization census sheet, including value of equipment and annual expenses, putting total number of members in place of actual list of members. Results to be Expected from a Social Survey. What is the use of such a social survey? This is the first reflective ques- tion every one will ask, and rightly so. In the first place, it is plain that a social survey is nothing but an inventory of the important social activities of the community, so displayed that everybody can see just how far every home is participating in the social life of the community. The first thing disclosed will be the socially isolated homes THE SURVEY 489 neglected, overlooked, or indifferent. This disclosure will be useful to every organization and to every citizen seeking to in- crease social acquaintance and interest in the community en- terprises. The next thing will be questions of all sorts on the part of everybody, such as, "Why are so few tenants in our organiza- tions?" "Why are there no women south of the river in the Women 's Club ? " " Why is the library not used by the people in the northeast corner of the community?" "Why are there so few children of high school age actually in the high school?" These questions are vital blows upon hard problems, and are bound to crack open solutions. Perhaps the most important value of the inventory will be the necessity of looking over all the social connections of all the homes from the point of view of the whole community. These maps are community photographs, and no one can go away from a study of the whole community in its many aspects without having his views modified and enlarged. There at once emerges this great question, "How does the so- cial situation as revealed by the survey of all associated ac- tivities affect the whole community; and what shall we do to change this situation so as to get results in each association better adapted to promote the interests of the entire commun- ity?" With the organization chart before us, a very pertinent ques- tion to be asked each organization is this: "We see your pur- pose, size, property, annual budget, now what are you doing, over and above work for your special group of people, for this whole community whose prosperity sustains and floats your enter- prise?" A good answer to this question is due from each or- ganization. Further questions will surely arise: "How can all these im- portant social machines in the community unite their forces more closely in promoting the legitimate social interests and in meeting the various social needs of the whole community?" "Can a united social front be presented on .occasions ?" It may become plain from the survey that some important in- terest of the community has no "social machine" at work in its behalf. Here then will be a chance to balance up the as- 490 RURAL SOCIOLOGY sociated forces by introducing a new force in behalf of a more symmetrical and wholesome country life. It is sufficient justification for a community's taking a sur- vey and inventory of its social forces and assets, if the survey is calculated to prompt these quickening questions and lead to a readjustment of its social structure so as to produce a bal- anced social life that will fit the whole community and meet its larger needs. Who Shall Take the Survey? Any group of community- minded persons in the community can undertake this interest- ing problem. One person should be general head and director. A staff of five or ten careful, tactful people to take the home census and organization census will be sufficient. THE SOCIAL ANATOMY OF AN AGRICULTURAL COMMUNITY 1 C. J. GALPIN A NEW rural and urban point of view has grown out of the attempt to answer satisfactorily the following series of questions : Is there such a thing as a rural community? If so, what are its characteristics? Can the farm population as a class be considered a community? Or can you cut out of the open country any piece, large or small, square, triangular, or irreg- ular in shape and treat the farm families in this section as a community and plan institutions for them? Would the eighty- five farm homes in a Norwegian settlement, bound together by one church organization, form a community? Has each farm a community of its own differing from that of every other ? What is the social nature of the ordinary country school district? What sort of a social unit is the agricultural town- ship? Is it possible that the farms are related to the village clus- ters in such an intimate way that in any serious treatment of i Adapted from Rural Life, pp. 70-87, Century Co., 1918, and Research Bulletin No. 34, May, 1915, Agricultural Experiment Station of the Uni- versity of Wisconsin, Madison. THE SURVEY 491 the one the other must be taken into account? May there not be an important social anatomy here, which needs care- ful tracing as a factor in any rural social reform? Have we assumed hitherto that the interrelations of farm and village or small agricultural city are all on the surface and easily read? Would it not be well, before imposing a redirected civilization upon the country man, to examine more minutely the larger movements of his ordinary life? A recent investigation and study of the rural population in a single county of the Middle West, Walworth County, Wiscon- sin, a study covering a period of two years, was prompted by the desire to answer satisfactorily the foregoing series of in- sistent questions. THE METHOD Large Working Maps of the County. A recent atlas of Wal- worth County was taken to pieces, the township maps on a scale of two inches to the mile were assembled in order, thumb- tacked on a large board, and reproduced on tracing cloth. From this, blue prints were made on cloth, freely used and cut into field maps as required for surveys. The county is twenty-four miles square. Assistants Resident in Each Village. A visit was made to each of the twelve villages and cities of the county, and an assistant selected to aid in taking the survey. Teachers, high- school principals, clergymen, bankers, and librarians finally composed the staff of helpers. Getting a Land Basis Map.- Each village or city was to be the center of information and the problem in general was how far out among the farm homes the village served any social purpose. From the point of view of the village, the problem was one of getting at the land area of village influence ; from the point of view of the countryman, it was learning what farms were connected with the same village. A visit by the survey-maker to the leading dry goods mer- chant with a print of the county map spread before him, got an answer to this question: "Which are the farm homes, north, south, east, and west, that come farthest to trade in your village?" The result would be a tentative rough trade 492 RURAL SOCIOLOGY line drawn about the village. Next the banker would indicate the long-distance farmers coming to the village to bank. A visit for confirmation would be made at the village milk factory, grocery stores, and the like. Then a local map was cut out of the county map one mile wider and longer than the trial limits set. This became the working map for the area having the village as center. Gathering the Facts. The first requirement was the name of the farmer residing on each farm represented on the map. In some cases this meant the gathering of 600 names. Usually the banker, real estate man, livery man, and physician in the village could give the bulk of the names. The telephone helped with the remainder. The result was a card catalogue of all farm homes on the map, typewritten on the schedule blanks, one blank to each farm home. Each farm home was located on the schedule by township, section, and number in the section, to correspond with the spot on the map locating the home. With this package of names and the map as a guide in case of doubt as to the man, the survey-maker visited the leading dry goods merchants and got an hour to go through the list, and ask the question, "Does John Doe buy dry goods regularly in this village ? " If he does, a cross is put to his account in the blank opposite ' * dry goods. ' ' In like manner, a visit is made to each grocery, bank, milk factory, village paper, village clergyman, high-school principal, library; and from the records as matters of fact, and not of opinion, it is indicated on the blanks which homes are con- nected with the village institutions. In case of the high-school, the question was, "Has any one in John Doe's family attended the high-school during the last three years? " In case of the paper, "Does John Doe take your paper?" In case of the church, "Is any one in the family of John Doe connected with your church?" Making the Final Maps of the County. The trade map was made first by merging the dry goods and grocery maps which nearly coincided. A large piece of corrugated paper board was placed under a copy of the county base map. Each farm home trading at Elkhorn, for example, was marked and then a pin stuck in the spot. A thread was run around the outside THE SURVEY 493 of these pins, following from pin to pin so as to include the least amount of territory while enclosing every pin. This thread line became the boundary of the trade zone. After the trade zone of each of the twelve centers was marked out in this way, the common territory where zones overlap, with homes trading at more than one village was colored alike and called neutral ground. Each community was given its own color. Then round, white seals were used to designate the homes that were found to use the same trade center. In like manner each set of maps was made in water colors. Trade Zones. Surrounding each village or city center is an area or zone of land including farm homes that trade regularly at the center. This zone is irregular in shape, due to such fac- tors as irregular roads, lakes, marshes, and varying distances of the trade centers from one another. No village or city is found in the county without its farm trade zone, and within this zone the number of farm homes closely approximates the num- ber of homes at the center. Accessibility seems to be the largest factor in determining the regular trade center for any farm home. The trade areas of adjacent centers have a tendency to overlap a little, producing a belt from one to two miles in width, of neutral or common trading territory. Farmers living about half-way between centers have a double, or in some cases, triple trading opportunity. These trade zone lines run, moreover, without regard to the political lines of the township, county, and state. The farm homes in the same trade zone use the four, five, or six main roads leading to the village center more frequently than any other extended network of highways. These families, obviously, have at least a passing acquaint- ance with one another. At the village they meet casually, at least, with farm families from the whole zone. This trade zone acquaintance at the village center is probably wider for each farm home than any other area of its farm acquaintance. The trade zones of a county are subject to extension and shrinkage with the growth of village centers in number, size and efficiency. A particularly aggressive business spirit in any center, shown by advertising, efficient methods of buying 494 RURAL SOCIOLOGY and selling, may enlarge the boundaries of the zone somewhat or at least widen the neutral belt. The farm homes in neutral territory, which are so situated that they may go to more than one trade center, hold a position of decided advantage in de- termining trade policies of merchants in two or more competing small cities. The village or city homes and the farm homes in the same trade zone have a common interest in the same trade agents to a certain degree, perhaps particularly the grocer, dry- goods merchant, or clothing merchant. Even in cases where these lines are specialized for farm trade or village trade, it it found that the village homes will be patrons of the " farmers' store," and the farm homes patrons of the "city store." Banking Zones. As the trade zone, so a banking zone of farm homes surrounds each village or city having a bank. The size of the banking zone compares favorably with the size of the trade zone, and ignores township, county, and state lines; has a belt of neutral or common territory; and reaches about half way to the adjacent banking centers. The banks are used all but universally by the farmers, and appar- ently the bank acts in the same capacity for the distant farmer as for villager or city dweller living within the same banking zone. As in the trade zones, farm homes in the same banking zone use frequently the same roads, are under the operation of the same factors of efficiency and integrity in bank man- agement ; village homes and farm homes in the village bank zone have an identical interest in bank control and policy; farmers in the neutral belt occupy positions of special power. Local Newspaper Zones. Apparently a local newspaper is a necessity in a complete civic center. The paper zone conforms closely in shape to the trading and banking zones, and shows that more than half the farm families are subscribers to this agency of local acquaintance and information. Evidently the village editor and his paper serve the same purpose on the land as among the clustered roofs. Village Milk Zones. The milk industry is organized in the THE SURVEY 495 county very generally upon the neighborhood scale, with small creameries and skimming stations scattered through the open country. However, at each of the twelve civic centers is a creamery or condensery run on a scale exceeding that of the open country factory. These milk zones, while following the general lines of the trading zone, are naturally much smaller. Only a little neutral territory exists, and this is due to seasonal shifting. A rapid concentration of the milk industry into these village factories, condenseries, and shipping plants is at present a marked tendency. A few years may bring into this county the auto-truck milk gatherer for each of the large village fac- tories an agency already used in some parts of Wisconsin. These milk institutions at the civic centers, in cases operated and largely owned by outside companies, are industrial plants of a character especially blending the interest of the villager with that of the farmer. Not only the few main roads leading into the center become of critical interest, but every road in the possible milk zone takes on a new social value an interest which is likely to overshadow the local road district interest or even the township road interest. Village Church Zones. In the open country are many small churches of the neighborhood and race settlement type. Every hamlet has at least one church. Nevertheless the village churches are fairly democratic, and are attended by farm families going distances of five and six miles. It seems to be the policy of the Roman Catholic church in this county to locate its churches in the villages and cities, a fact which makes several of the village church zones of considerable size, almost equal to the respective trading zones. There are a few abandoned open country churches along the roadsides; but the neighborhood country churches are usually in more or less active operation. In some of the religious bodies it is the prevailing practice for the village minister to serve also one or two open-country charges, a custom which forms one more link between village and country in the same general trade zone. At certain of the incomplete civic centers, with small pop- ulation and only partial trading facilities, there is a single 496 RURAL SOCIOLOGY church, usually of some one denomination, but generally con- sidered as a "community church." A resident minister is in charge, and a vigorous social life is in progress. The favoring circumstance for this aggressive activity seems to be the blend of farm and hamlet cooperation in a single church parish. High-School Zones. Practically every farm home in the county is easily within daily reach of some high-school. Taking the county as a whole, less than fifteen per cent, of the farm homes are sending children to high-schools. The high-school zones are not only much smaller than the trade or banking zones, but the proportion of farm homes within the zones using the high-school is much smaller than that using the shop or bank. It will be noticed that the form of this zone follows the general lines of the trade zone. Instead of an over-lapping of zone lines giving a belt of neutral territory, there appears surrounding every zone a belt of homes outside the influence of any high-school. With all the general deficiency apparent in the amount of farm use of these nine high-schools, it is plain that a fair per- centage of the farm families within two miles of each high-school recognizes its value. The character of the high-school as an agent in idea-forming and association-making, plays a won- derful part at the adolescent period of life, in democratizing the children of the farm who attend and the children of the village. It would be difficult to overestimate its influence as a force for constructive cooperation, were each high-school con- sciously controlled in adaptation of subjects and management of courses in the interest of those living upon the land as well as of those living in the small city. Village Library Zones. Four fine examples of the institu- tional library are in the county. The privilege of free use is open to farm families, and a certain considerable number of farm homes, in fact, thirty-one per cent, of all farm homes within the library zones, avail themselves of this privilege. A wider farm use of the high-school would doubtless lead to a wider use of the library. The School Districts. A study of the country school districts of the county shows the fact that the prevailing scale of organ- ized farm life is that of the neighborhood. The school house, THE SURVEY 497 an open country church, and a creamery may frequently be found together, among fifteen to thirty families, in a territory of from three to five square miles. A slight tendency to consol- idate adjoining school districts exists, but it is only slight. There seems to be a greater tendency to enlarge the village or city districts by addition of farms. The Actual but Unofficial Community. Eight of the twelve civic centers of Walworth County are incorporated; four as cities and four as villages. Officially, that is legally, the in- corporated centers are treated as communities, each by and for itself. The foregoing analysis of the use of the leading institutions of each center by the farm population discloses the fact, however, that these institutions are agencies of social service over a comparatively determinable and fixed area of land surrounding each center; that this social service is pre- cisely the same in character as is rendered to those people whether artisans, employees, or professional persons who hap- pen to live within the corporate limits of the city or village; moreover the plain inference is that the inhabitants of the center are more vitally concerned in reality with the development and upkeep of their particular farm land basis than with any other equal area of land in the state. It is difficult, if not impossible, to avoid the conclusion that the trade zone about one of these rather complete agricultural civic centers forms the boundary of an actual, if not legal, community, within which the apparent entanglement of human life is resolved into a fairly unitary system of interrelatedness. The fundamental community is a composite of many expanding and contracting feature communities possessing the character- istic pulsating instability of all real life. BIBLIOGRAPHY SURVEYS Aronovici, Carol. Knowing One's Own Community. Bulletin No. 20, Social Service Series, Dept. of Social and Public Service, Ameri- can Unitarian Association, Boston, n. d. Bailey, L. H. The Survey Idea in Country Life Work. In his York State Rural Problems, Vol. I, Lyon, Albany, 1913. Bailey, Wm. B. Modern Social Conditions. Century, N. Y., 1906. Boardman, John R. The Rural Social Survey, N. Y., 1914. 498 RURAL SOCIOLOGY Brinton, W. C. Graphic Methods for Presenting Facts. The Engi- neering Mag. Co., N. Y., 1914. Brittain, H. L. Report of the Ohio State School Survey Commission. Published by State of Ohio, Columbus, 1914. Carroll, C. E. The Community Survey in Relation to Church Effi- ciency. Abingdon Press, N. Y., 1915. Eastman, E. Fred. The Minister's Use of the Survey. Men and Re- ligion Messages, Rural Church, VI : 166-177, Association Press, N. Y., 1912. Elmer, Manuel C. Technique of Social Surveys. World Company, Lawrence, Kansas, 1917. Galpin, C. J. A Method of Making a Social Survey of a Rural Com- munity. Agricultural Experiment Station, Univ. of Wisconsin, Circular 29, Madison, 1912. The Social Anatomy of an Agricultural Community, Research Bul- letin, 34, Agricultural Experiment Station, Univ. of Wisconsin, Madison, 1915. Galpin, C. J., and Davies, G. W. Social Surveys of Rural School Districts, What they are and how they are made. Agricultural Experiment Station, Univ. of Wisconsin, Circular 51, Madison, 1914. Gill, Charles 0., and Pinchot, Gifford. The Country Church. Mac- millan, N. Y., 1913. Gillette, J. M. Rural Social Surveys. In Constructive Rural So- ciology, pp. 281-292, Sturgis, N. Y., 1915. Gillin, J. L. Application of the Social Survey to Small Communities. Amer. Journal of Sociology, 17 : 647-8, Nov., 1911. Haney, L. H., and Wehrwein, G. S. A Social and Economic Survey of Southern Travis County, Texas. Univ. of Texas, Bui. No. 65, Austin, 1916. Hart, Joseph K. Educational Resources of Village and Rural Com- munities. Macmillan, N. Y., 1913. Johnson, 0. M., and T)adesma, A. J. An Agricultural Survey of Brooks County, West Va. Experiment Station Bui. No. 153, Morgantown, 1915. King, W. L Elements of Statistical Method. Macmillan, N. Y., 1912. Kirkpatrick, E. A. Fundamentals of Sociology, pp. 215-276. Hough- ton, Boston, 1916. Mayo-Smith, Richmond. Science of Statistics. 2 vols. Macmillan, N. ' Y., 1899. McClenahan, Bessie. The Social Survey. Univ. of Iowa, Extension Bui. No. 26, Iowa City, 1916. Richmond, Mary E. Social Diagnosis. Russell Sage Foundation, N. Y., 1917. Secrist, Horace. An Introduction to Statistical Methods. Macmillan, N. Y., 1917. Sims, N. L. A Hoosier Village A Sociological Study with Special Reference to Social Causation. Columbia Univ. Studies, Vol. 46, No. 4. Taft, Anna B. Community Study for Country Districts. Presbyter- ian Dept. for Missionary Education, N. Y., 1912. THE SURVEY 499 Taylor, Carl C. The Social Survey, Its History and Methods. Univ. of Mo. Bui., Vol. 20, No. 28, Social Science Series 3, Oct., 1919. Thompson, C. W. Rural Surveys. Pub. Am. Sociological Soc., 11:129-134, 1916. Thompson, C. W., and Warber, G. P. Social and Economic Survey of a Rural Township in Southern Minnesota. Univ. of Minnesota, Studies in Economics, No. 1, Minneapolis, 1913. Von Tungeln, Geo. H., Brindley and Hawthorne. A Rural Social Sur- vey of Orange Township, Black Hawk Co., Iowa. Bui. No. 184, Ag. Ex. Station, Iowa State College of Agriculture, Ames, Iowa, Dec., 1918. The Results of Some Rural Social Surveys in Iowa. Pub. Am. Sociological Soc., 11 : 134-163, 1916. Warren, G. F., and others. An Agricultural Survey Townships of Ithaca, Dryden, Danby, and Lansing, Tompkins County, N. Y. Bull. 295, Cornell Univ., Agricultural Experiment Station, Ith- aca, N. Y., 1911. Weld, L. D. H. Social and Economic Survey of a Community in the Red River Valley. Univ. of Minnesota, Current Problems, No. 4, Minneapolis, 1915. Wells, George Frederick. A Social Survey for Rural Communities. N. Y., 1911. Wilson, Warren H. Surveys Made by the Presbyterian Board of Home Missions, Dept. of Church and Country Life, N. Y. Wilson, Warren H., and others. Rural Survey of Lane County, Ore- gon, Board of Home Missions, Presbyterian Church, N. Y., 1916. CHAPTER XVIII THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS A. RURAL ORGANIZATION RURAL ORGANIZATION 1 K. L. BUTTERFIELD THE PROBLEMS OP RURAL IMPROVEMENT 1. In methods of controlling the necessary forces and ma- terials of production. 2. In farm practice, or in the production of crops and animals. 3. In methods of farm management and farm business. 4. In methods of farm organization. 5. In farm life. SOME NECESSARY ADJUSTMENTS 1. Among the farmers themselves. 2. Between the interests of farmers and others. I. THE PROBLEM OF THE BETTER CONTROL OF THE NECESSARY) FORCES AND MATERIALS FOR PRODUCTION 1. The Control of the Land Itself. Land ownership gives the most complete control. The retired farmer has less control than the owner who works his own farm. The absentee landlord has only a minimum of actual control. Land may be owned by the state and leased to the men who work it. We must learn very soon what on the whole Is the best method of land control in order that both farmers and consumers may have the largest possible benefits. 2. Land Acquirement. Farmers in America formerly got i Adapted from "The Farmer and the New Day," pp. 40-56, Macmillan, N. Y., 1919. 500 THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 501 their land from the government. This is no longer true -to any large degree. It is coming to be difficult for the young farmer to acquire a farm. Only two solutions are apparent. One is for the government itself to purchase land and sell it to new owners individually or in colonies with liberal credit and easy payments; or for large groups to do the same thing, either as private corporations for gain or cooperative land societies. 3. Land Rental. Rental under right conditions may secure very effective use of the land. Tenant farming does not tend as a rule toward building up permanent farm community inter- ests. Very short leases are disastrous both to farming and to country life. Permanent tenure can be made satisfactory only when the tenant is given a share in permanent improvements. 4. The Control of Capital. Need for capital in farming is rap- idly increasing because of increased cost of land, need of land im- provements by drainage, etc., larger need for machinery and other equipment, higher cost of labor. The farmer needs both long term credit and short term credit, the one for land purchase and permanent improvements, and the other in order to take advantage of better terms in securing his supply of seeds, fer- tilizer, feeds. Mercantile or store credit is very costly in in- terest and should be abolished. One difficulty in securing credit for farmers is that the American farmer is as a rule unwilling to become a party to a plan whereby the farmers of a community collectively become responsible for the debts of the individuals of the community. Farmers have collectively enormous assets which ought to be made available for each worthy member of the partnership. 5. Control of the Labor Supply. The farmer has to compete now-a-days with industry for his labor, in the matter of wages, housing, hours. One of the biggest problems of the future lies in answering such questions as how to keep labor employed throughout the year; how to educate the laborer so that he be- comes a skilled farmer ; whether women in America will do more farm work than formerly; how to use boy labor without sacri- fice of education; the relations of farmers to farm labor organ- izations; and how to encourage the farm laborer to become eventually a farm owner. 6. The Control of Materials and Power. Commercial inter- 502 RURAL SOCIOLOGY ests have served the farmer reasonably well in supplying seeds, fertilizer, stock feeds, machinery, but only to a small extent in supplying power. The government will probably have to inter- vene in establishing a democratic use of water power for the making of electricity. Farmers, however, will need to cooperate much more freely than now in the purchase of power, as well as of their other supplies. II. THE PROBLEM OF IMPROVEMENT OF FARM PRACTICE, OR THE PRODUCTION OF CROPS AND ANIMALS 1. Improvement of the Soil. This means securing greater depth of soil; more complete friability; more adequate control of water in the soil ; proper adaptation of special crops to special soils; prevention of plant food waste and erosion; and in gen- eral, the question of permanent fertility. 2. The Improvement of Crops, by getting the greatest possible yields; improving the quality and food or feed value; securing disease and drouth resistant varieties. 3. The Improvement of Animals in size, quality, temperament, healthiness, etc. III. IMPROVEMENTS IN FARM MANAGEMENT AND FARM BUSINESS 1. The Purchase of Supplies. It is only by collective or co- operative purchase of supplies and equipment that farmers can get the best prices and terms. So long as the individual farmer buys his supplies at a disadvantage, he is economically handi- capped. 2. Standardizing the Product. The greatest single difficulty which the individual farmer faces is due in part to the wide variety of crops grown in a given locality and to a great vari- ation in quality. The remedy in general lies in inducing farm communities to produce fewer things, to produce those for which the region is particularly adopted, and then through cooperation, to secure proper grading, careful and honest pack- ing, and wherever feasible, proper labeling. 3. In the Transportation of Products. Good roads and the motor truck will play a rapidly increasing part in initial trans- portation. Rural trolleys will help to a growing extent. The main dependence for standard crops is the railway system. One of the most important reforms is the adjustment of freight rates THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 503 as between the long haul and the short haul in order that both the distant producer and the nearby farmer may have sub- stantial justice. 4. The Problem of Storage. The purpose of storage is to keep such part of the product as is not immediately necessary, until it is needed by the consumer. The farmer believes, and probably with reason, that those who control storage facilities exact unfair toll from the farmer. The difficulty lies less in dishonesty than in the fact that the whole system is purely a profit-making affair. The storage system should be organized and controlled as primarily a method of relating supply and demand. 5. The Selling of Crops. In case of fruits, vegetables, and poultry products, producer and consumer may be brought to- gether face to face in public or community markets where they may make their bargain. For most crops, the middleman is indispensable. He should not be abolished but redirected. We shall never have satisfactory methods of marketing farm products until we have a thoroughly organized group of pro- ducers, each group with its special product, dealing directly with well organized groups of consumers, or with well organized groups of middlemen whose activities are regulated by the gov- ernment in the interests of both producers and consumers. 6. The Farmer's Interest in Manufacture and Care. The con- servation and processing of farm products has gone largely into the hands of commercial concerns. The farmer, however, has a moral obligation to eliminate all wastes on the farm itself. Community enterprises looking toward the manufacture or preservation of certain products, both for use in the community itself and as a business venture, will probably increase. There is a vast waste in double transportation; for example, wheat is shipped one thousand miles for milling and the flour is brought back to the farm region where the wheat was grown. 7. Protection and Insurance. The farmer wages a constant battle against insect pests, diseases, of plants and animals, un- favorable natural conditions such as weeds, flood, drouth, frost, wind, hail, fire. Widespread education, mutual insurance and cooperative action seem to be the main solutions. One of the biggest problems of protection is whether it is possible to insure the farmers to some extent against loss due to inadequate knowl- 504 RURAL SOCIOLOGY edge of market conditions, such as spoilage in food products, forced sales of products due to lack of credit, and market gluts. 8. The Reinvestment of Farm Profits is not as yet a burning question but it is not unimportant. Why can not farmers utilize their surplus, when they have it, for the building up of the com- munity in which they live ? IV. THE PROBLEM OF THE ORGANIZATION OF THE FARM 1. The Farm and its Equipment. It would be very helpful to have a standardization of farms on the basis of the most eco- nomic type and size of farm and the amount of capital and equip- ment in stock and machinery needed to operate the farm to best advantage 2. The Permanent Improvement of the Farm. How can the farmer best secure a gradual improvement of his stock, complete a system of under drainage, provide economic but adequate and convenient buildings, and utilize labor-saving devices? 3. Bookkeeping and Accounting. There is great need of adequate records and accounts simplified so that the average farmer can follow the plan. There are really two problems, one that of accurate business accounts and the other that of proper records which when interpreted will help the farmer to adjust his methods of management to the securing of greater economies of time and labor. 4. The Use of Labor. How may labor be secured at any price and how retained? One of the big questions is how to employ during the winter months farm labor needed only during the growing season, in order that labor may be satisfied and be avail- able more continuously for the farmer. V. THE IMPROVEMENT OF FARM LIFE Means of Communication. It has been said that the problem of the city is congestion and the problem of the country isolation. In the city there are too many people to the square mile ; in the country there are too few. Rural free mail delivery, the rural telephone, the rural trolley, to a degree, and the auto- mobile have quite changed the aspect of country life. The problem is not yet solved, however, the greatest difficulty being THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 505 that of getting and maintaining at reasonable expense a complete system of good highways, that reaches practically every farmer. The success of the consolidated school and of the community church, as well as economical transportation of farm products, hinges on this issue. Home-making. The farm home is intimately attached to farm work. It must contribute to the profit of the farm, to the physical efficiency of the members of the family, to the most com- plete training of the children in character and citizenship, and make itself felt in the upbuilding of a satisfying community. The farmhouse should be convenient and beautiful within and without. It is possible to develop a system of home manage- ment that will reduce drudgery and encourage the life of the mind and the spirit. Means of Education. We must make sure that the rural school gives the country boy and girl just as good an education for life either in country or in city as is given to the city boy and girl. Moreover, the country school should contribute more completely to the education of the adults of the community. Ideally, the people of the community will stay in school all through life. We must maintain a system of agricultural educa- tion, through schools and colleges and experiment stations and extension service and farm bureaus, that will reach effectively and practically the entire farm population. We should develop the habit of reading and study with a better system of rural public libraries. Continuation schools must be provided for the boys and girls who are no longer all the time in school, but who ought to keep up their schooling much longer than they do. And in general, we must stimulate the masses of farmers to closer study not only of their own problems, but of the problems of the New Day. Rural Government. How can we make local government more efficient, more honest ? Probably we can do more for the people of the community through the local machinery of government. We already support schools and build roads. Can we not fur- nish other facilities of community life ? Can we not make legis- lation, both in state and nation, more in keeping with the needs of rural improvement ? Health and Sanitation. We need a large program of educa- 506 RURAL SOCIOLOGY tion for farm people, especially those in less prosperous regions, in the full meaning of personal hygiene, the very best care of the body, the very best dietaries, and in public health, in order to stamp out epidemics, secure care of sewage, restrict the spread of contagious diseases. In many ways these things are much more difficult to handle in the country than in the city. Recreation. This is one of the great lacks of country life. "We need a more adequate play life for the young and a thor- oughly satisfying social life for the adults. We must bring into the country some of those legitimate opportunities for plea- sure that people of the city have. Better than this, we would encourage the country people themselves in the making of their own recreation. Country Planning. The roads, the buildings, the village parks, all of the material arrangements of the country, should be -care- fully planned. Social Welfare. There is need in the country as well as in the city for helpfulness to those not well circumstanced; the insane, the feeble-minded, the poor, the sick, the unfortunate. We can organize better than we have thus far the spirit of help- fulness. It is not enough that we have the neighborly interest ; we must also have the skilled aid. Morals and Religion. How can we maintain the highest and finest ideals of personal character and of community life ? How can we make religion real in the work of the farm and in the living together of the people? How can we assist the country church, the Y. M. C. A., the Sunday School, to be of the largest possible service in the country? SOME ECONOMIC ADJUSTMENTS We have outlined the problem of rural improvement in a most sketchy way but we have not yet quite told the whole story. All that has gone before calls for a certain balancing of inter- ests. There are adjustments to be made from time to time. There are diverse interests that have to be reconciled. We never can "solve" the farm problems as problems of arithmetic can be solved. In our search for constant improvement, we find the constant need of establishing new relationships by the people, of developing new methods of doing business. What is right THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 507 and fair at one time may not be right and fair at another time because of changing conditions. So let us consider for a moment some of these adjustments that the farmers must recognize. ADJUSTMENTS AMONG THE FARMERS THEMSELVES We must secure a sort of balance between the interests of the individual and the interests of the farmers as a whole. This, of course, is a need everywhere in the world. It is not by any means true that if each individual is left to follow his own interests the interests of all will be gained. This is simply the "law of the jungle"; the strong win, the interests of the weak are over-ridden. Perhaps the greatest obstacle to agricultural business cooperation in America is the fact that the most pros- perous and efficient farmers in the community 'do not see the need of pooling their interests; they are not willing to sacrifice a little for the sake of those who would be greatly helped by common action. Balance 'between Sub-Industries. When a new opportunity in agriculture shows itself, it may become so popular as to crowd out other forms of production which are fully as essential. Fruit growing in the irrigated districts of the "West not only encroached upon fruit growing in the East, but hindered the development of dairy and stock farming to which- the irrigated areas are peculiarly adapted. Balance between Sectional Interests. One of the most serious of all rural questions is the competition of regions. The apple growers of New England with those of the Pacific Northwest; the vegetable growers of Florida with those of Massachusetts; the sugar beet growers and the sugar cane growers ; the farmers who grow cattle feed in the Middle West and the dairymen of the East who have to buy these feeds. We find here constant need of establishing fair relationships. Regional Self-Support. It is a law of economics that the greatest efficiency in production comes when each region pro- duces that which it can best grow, not necessarily that which it can grow better than some other region. Each acre of land should be put to the best use for which it is fitted, considering soil, climate, labor, and market. Therefore it is neither prac- ticable nor desirable that each country, or each state, or each 508 RURAL SOCIOLOGY county, or each community, should grow all that it consumes. But we have gone so far in producing for the distant market that we have not only neglected the nearby market which is often poorly supplied, but we have incurred an enormous expense for transporting and handling products which go back and forth. We need to establish certain zones or regions that up to a certain point can take care of themselves with reference to the growing of their food. The Rural Village. There are perhaps ten million people in America living in villages that are set in a rural environment. The people are not farmers but they live in the midst of farmers. They are not city people. Their very existence depends upon the success of the farming regions round about, and yet there is often the sharpest antagonism between people of the village and the people of the country. The farmers believe that the village merchants exploit them at every opportunity. There is an odd notion among the merchants that in some way the farmers owe them a living. This antagonism shows itself in lack of social intercourse, in sharp political fights. How can w r e re- store the balance between the village, which includes the small "city" set in an agricultural region, and the farmers round about? Surely there is a way toward cooperation, a real com- munity interest. Each can help the other. Permanent Agriculture without Caste. We have a shifting agricultural population. There is scarcely any part of America which has not suffered from over-frequent migration to the city or to other parts of the country. Ownership changes frequently. This impermanence is not true everywhere, but it is character- istic of American agriculture. It cannot result in the best farming. It has not contributed to the best community life. Leadership is lost; yet we would not want everybody born in the country to stay in the country. The idea of keeping all the farm boys on the farm is the poorest policy we could follow. We cannot afford to arrange our rural education so that the boy is obliged to stay on the farm or go to the city handicapped in his preparation for life. The door from country to city must swing wide. There must be freedom of intercourse between city and country. We must not have a peasantry a rustic group. In no parts of our country must there be a possibility of farmers THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 509 being looked down upon or being sharply distinguished from other classes in any way that marks them off as a caste. How then may we adjust our modes of living, our education, our country life, our village life, so that we shall secure the advan- tages of permanent occupation of the land without the disad- vantages of a caste system? Some Special Problems. There is no doubt but the racial problems which have disturbed our country show themselves in agriculture. Special groups, such as the negro farmer, the mountaineer, able but isolated, the emigrant farmer, sturdy but foreign, must in some fashion be taken into the common lot. Only so can we have a real democracy. How are we to do it? There is a question of grades or strata of farmers. In almost any farm community we find a group of very prosperous and successful farmers, men who we say can ''take care of them- selves. ' ' Near the other end of the scale we find the ' ' submerged tenth," men not very efficient. At the extreme end we find the hundredth man the abandoned farmer. Between these ex- tremes, the great group of average farmers. So we have farmers small and farmers large; farmers wise and farmers foolish; farmers educated and farmers illiterate; and we find the need of adjusting our ideas and our methods of living together so that as far as possible these walls of separation may be broken down. The problem becomes a very interesting and acute one in any farm community when we note the prejudices in church or in secret societies, and how certain groups are inevitably ex- cluded. "We also find farmers with special difficulties; the man with the tiny farm, the landless farmer, the laborless farmer, the farmer without capital, the farmer in the depleted rural com- munity who would like to see a better day but is not hopeful that it can be brought about, and finally the farm laborer. Sometimes these matters do not seem like "problems"; but are rather taken for granted. They are important questions, never- theless. ADJUSTMENTS BETWEEN THE FARMER AND OTHER INTERESTS The Balance between Producers and Consumers. We have had a great outcry because in some prosperous- agricultural re- gions, as well as in those less prosperous, the farm population has 510 RURAL SOCIOLOGY actually declined. At the bottom this change of population was simply an effort to adjust the number of producers to the num- ber of consumers. Our land policy had developed too many producers. The application of scientific principles to produc- tion and the establishment of a nation-wide system of trans- portation enabled relatively fewer men to grow the food of the nation. But of course this may be carried too far. If we have too many producers, we get cheap food and also cheap men on the farm. If we have too few producers, the country is not adequately supplied with food. Adjustment in the Factors of Production. The problem is essentially this: How may the farmer compete with manufac- turing and business interests for land, labor and capital? It is a question of proper relationships. The farmer must have his share of these or he cannot do his best work. He has to com- pete constantly with these other industries. How can we make sure that he has a fair field? Yield per Acre and Yield per Man. The strength of Euro- pean agriculture lies in its large yield per acre of land. The strength of American agriculture lies in its large yield per man who works the soil. It is in the interests of consumers to have the maximum yield of food per acre f it is in the interests of producers to have the maximum return due each individual worker. But clearly, both of these things cannot happen at the same time. Somewhere we must find the fair balance. We must adjust the interests of both. How can we do it ? The Conservation of Soil Resources. Less than formerly do the farmers want to use their land even if they use it all up. It is a truism that the American farmer has skimmed the cream off the soil and then gone on AVest. Society, that is all of us together, which really owns the land, is interested to have it become more productive, whereas it has become less produc- tive in many regions. Of course the good farmer has the same interest in keeping up production, but many farmers do not see it. They want immediate results. Clearly we need an adjustment that results both in that use of the land which gives a fair return to the farmer, and that use which pre- serves its fertility undiminished for future generations. Sharing the Savings. Both farmers and consumers would THE ORGANIZATION OF'RURAL INTERESTS 511 like to abolish the middleman's profits. The farmer rather ex- pects to get most of the profits which the middleman has made, and the consumer, oddly enough, has the same ambition. Both cannot succeed. This tendency shows itself in a public market where householders buy of farmers. Each wants to get the best bargain possible. What eventually happens is probably a pretty fair trade, both getting some advantage in this matter. This principle holds in the whole field of soil distribution. If economies of distribution are effected, who is to get the benefit consumer or producer? Both! It is a matter of adjust- ment. The answer lies in establishing fair trade. Agriculture and Other Business. Agriculture is our great- est business and yet it is often left out of account in plans for possible development. But its relation to manufactur- ing, to transportation, to commerce and even to finance is very close and even vital. Imagine if" you can the farm lands of America lying unproductive for a single year. Moreover, it is clear that if these relationships of agriculture to other in- dustries are so close, competing interests will show themselves. Inasmuch as these industries are well organized and agriculture is poorly organized, the farmers are apt to be the losers. How can we adjust these big interests of these big industries so that all shall have the square deal ? Agrarian Legislation. The farmer has an interest in taxa- tion, in the tariff, in currency legislation. It is believed that legislators have a tendency to ignore this interest, but it can- not safely be ignored. If it results in too great injustice, then we have a radical movement which smashes its way through, perhaps to undesirable ends for all concerned. What we need, then, is an attempt to adjust, in all legislative matters, the fair interests of farmers to the fair interests of other people. The Farmer in Politics. How can the farmers make them- selves felt in our political life? As a party, shall they have rep- resentation in legislative business, somewhat equivalent to their numerical strength? Neither of these things seems very prac- ticable, perhaps not even desirable. On the other hand, are the farmers to be left out of account and have nothing to say? Are they to have no unified opinion or desire that finds ex- pression through the political party or the government? How 512 RURAL SOCIOLOGY can we find the balance between political neglect of the farmers and political revolution among the farmers? The Farmers and Organized Labor. Have these groups in- terests in common or are they absolutely antagonistic? If in common, where do these interests lie ? If antagonistic, how may antagonism be allayed ? Rural and Urban Aspects of Civilization. There are people who think that the city stands for civilization, that leadership, wealth, organization, power, will reside in the city and take the helm of society's progress. But have the farmers nothing to contribute? Are not the methods of living and of thinking worth something to the common country? One of the most im- portant adjustments is to make it possible for organized farmers in every country in the world to make their fullest contribution in work, in thought, in ideals, to the common welfare of man- kind. B. INTEBNATIONAL OBGANIZATION THE INTERNATIONAL INSTITUTE OF AGRICULTURE l THE origin of the Institute is shown in the following letter of H. M. the King of Italy to the Prime Minister H. E. Giov. Giolitti. Dear President : Mr. David Lubin, a citizen of the United States, has made a proposal to me, with all the ardor of sincere conviction, and it seems to me both wise and useful, and I therefore recommend it to the consideration of my Government. Farmers, who generally form the most numerous class in a country and have everywhere a great influence on the destinies of nations, can not, if they remain isolated, make sufficient provision for the improvement of the various crops and their distribution in proportion to the needs of consumers, nor pro- tect their own interests on the market, which, as far as the i Adapted from Report of the International Institute of Agriculture, 1915. THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 513 more important produce of the soil is concerned, is tending to become more and more one market for the whole world. Therefore, considerable advantage might be derived from an International Institute, which, with no political object, would undertake to study the conditions of agriculture in the various countries of the world, periodically publishing reports on the amount and character of the crops, so as to facilitate produc- tion, render commerce less expensive and more rapid, and estab- lish more suitable prices. This Institute, coming to an understanding with the various national offices already existing for the purpose, would also sup- ply precise information on the conditions of agricultural labor in various localities, so as to serve as a safe and useful guide for emigrants; promote agreements for mutual defense against diseases of plants and animals, where individual action is in- sufficient ; and, finall3 T , would exercise an action favorable to the development of rural cooperation, agricultural insurance and credit. The benefits attained by means of such an Institute, a bond of union between all farmers and consequently an important influence for peace would certainly be manifold. Rome would be a suitable place for its inauguration, at which the representa- tives of the adhering States and the larger Associations con- cerned might assemble, and harmonize the authority of Govern- ments with the free energies of the farmers. I am convinced that the nobility of the aim will suffice to over- come the difficulties of the enterprise. And in this faith I sign myself, Your affectionate cousin, VICTOR EMMANNUEL. Rome, January 24th, 1905. In consequence of this letter the International Institute of Agriculture was founded by act of the International Treaty of June 7th, 1905. The treaty was ratified by forty governments, and twelve others have since adhered to it, so that, at the present time, almost the whole civilized world is included. The seat of the Institute is at Rome. According to the treaty it is a " government institution in which each adhering power is 514 RURAL SOCIOLOGY represented by delegates of its choice." It is administered by a General Assembly and by a Permanent Committee. The staff now numbers ninety-seven. The revenue of the Institute is derived from contributions paid by each of the adhering nations according to the group in which the nation is inscribed, as established by the treaty. (The revenue amounts to approximately $250,000 annually. Editor.) The Institute performs the following work : 1. By means of its Bureau of General Statistics, it collects, coordinates and publishes as promptly as possible, statistical data on crops and livestock, the trade in agricultural products, and their prices on different markets. This crop reporting in- formation is set forth in fuller detail in the monthly Bulletin of Agricultural Statistics which is published simultaneously in five languages. The Institute also publishes an " International Year Book of Agricultural Statistics," which contains summary tables of crop areas and yields. 2. The Bureau of Agricultural Intelligence and Plant Dis- eases collects, elaborates, publishes information of a technical nature on agriculture, agricultural industries, stock-breeding, etc. It publishes a bulletin each month on agricultural in- telligence and diseases of plants. 3. The Bureau of Economic and Social Intelligence collects, elaborates and publishes information concerning agricultural co- operation, insurance and credit as well as other questions of agricultural economy. 4. The library collects the books and documents required for the work. It publishes a weekly Bibliographical Bulletin in which are indicated the books received as well as the most im- portant articles noted by the technical bureaus when examining periodicals. 5. The General Secretary's Office publishes an "International Year Book of Agricultural Legislation" containing the laws re- lating to agriculture enacted in the countries adhering to the institute. THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 515 C. NATIONAL ORGANIZATION WORK OF THE OFFICE OF MARKETS AND RURAL ORGANIZATION 1 CHARLES J. BRAND IT is believed that effective and economical methods for dis- tributing and marketing farm products should go hand in hand with scientific methods of production, as it profits little to im- prove the quality and increase the quantity of our crops if we can not learn when, where, and how they may be sold to ad- vantage. To provide for a study of the problems involved, Congress during the spring of 1913 appropriated funds for the establishment and operation of the Office of Markets .of the Department of Agriculture. The Office of Rural Organization was established by Congress a year later, in order to determine the possibilities and encourage the use of organized cooperative effort in removing rural conditions. These two Offices were com- bined on July 1, 1914, and the combined unit is known as the Office of Markets and Rural Organization. The authority conferred by Congress in appropriating funds for the maintenance of this Office provides "for acquiring and diffusing among the people of the United States useful infor- mation on subjects connected with the marketing and distribut- ing of farm and nonmanufactured food products and the pur- chasing of farm supplies," and the study of cooperation among farmers in the United States. So far as marketing work is con- cerned, the activities of the Office, therefore, are limited to the collection and distribution of information. For example, it has no authority to prosecute cases of alleged dishonesty on the part of producers, carriers, dealers, or buyers. It has nothing what- ever to do with the problems of production. Owing to the complexity and wide scope of the work, up to the present time it has been impossible to undertake a comprehen- sive study of more than a few of the most urgent and important i Adapted from Doe. Markets 1, 1915, p. 1. U. S. Department of Agri- culture, Office of Markets and Rural Organization. 516 RURAL SOCIOLOGY of the problems which demand investigation. As far as pos- sible the marketing problems are being studied from the points of view of producer, dealer, and consumer. A large part of the rural organization investigations has consisted of studies of the work of rural credit associations. As this work is now well under way, more time will be devoted to other phases of rural organization work without, however, discontinuing any of the rural credit investigations. Besides the phase of cooperation dealing with the marketing of farm and food products, work has been instituted looking toward that basic improvement of country life which must come from the country itself, through the development of resident leadership. This work recognizes that the true function of in- creased prosperity in the farm home is the raising of the standard of living and thinking upon the farm. While other projects of the Office are designed to promote changes which will make farming more profitable, the particular object of this work is to make the country a more desirable place in which to live. The Office is investigating cooperative organizations that are endeavoring to improve conditions of education, health, recrea- tion, and household economy in rural life. The work done thus far reveals many needs in all of these directions, and, when practicable, the Office attempts to supply information and sug- gestions to such associations. Local demonstration work has been undertaken in Alabama and in North Carolina in cooperation with State and local agencies. THE PLACE OF GOVERNMENT IN AGRICULTURAL COOPERATION AND RURAL ORGANIZATION 1 GOVERNMENT, whether local, State, or national, can render a great service to agriculture and country life. Government can do a great deal more than many people suppose, and it ought to do a great deal less than many people expect. The follow- i Adapted from Report of the American Commission, Senate Document Xo. 261, Part I, pp. 20-27. THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 517 ing principles are set forth as suggestive of fundamental con- ditions of Government service : 1. The Government, as representing all the people, should do all such a Government can do on behalf of better farm practice, better farm business, and better farm life in so far as this betterment is to the advantage of all the people. 2. In general, however, Government should do nothing that can effectively be done by individual farmers, or by the farmers collectively through voluntary effort. It is highly important to develop self-help. The "cooperative spirit" is vital to the suc- cess of coooperative effort, and this spirit is best engendered by the work of voluntary agencies of social service. 3. The Government, however, may take the lead temporarily in many movements, in order to stimulate interest and to show how progress may best be secured. 4. Where there is practically unanimous agreement on the part of the people that a certain type of effort is essential for the good of the whole people, it is highly proper that the Gov- ernment should be the agency to perform the service. The types of work which Government may do for agricultural cooperation, for example, under the principles just enunciated, are as follows: 1. The Government may investigate facts and principles underlying the development of agriculture and country life. 2. The Government may interpret those principles in the light of the needs of the people. 3. The Government may inform the people of the results of its investigations and interpretations. 4. The Government may advise individuals and groups how best to take advantage of these facts and principles; that is, how to apply them to farm improvement, marketing and ex- change, and community life. 5. The Government may demonstrate the best methods of ac- complishing this application of facts and principles to actual needs and conditions. The Government may not participate in the farmers' busi- ness nor direct their community life. Only as legislation may be necessary to restrain should Government interfere with the initiative and development of the individual. It should not try 518 RURAL SOCIOLOGY to run a man's farm for him, nor to manage the farmers' busi- ness transactions. There are money limitations to the work of Government. The rural problem is so large that the work of Government even within its field will have to be supplemented by voluntary aid and financial support. There are some fields in which the people are not sufficiently agreed as to methods and machinery so that Government can safely undertake to carry on the collective enterprises of the people. ORGANIZATION OF A COUNTY FOR EXTENSION WORK THE FARM-BUREAU PLAN 1 L. R. SIMONS PURPOSES OF THE FARM BUREAU A COUNTY farm bureau is an association of people interested in rural affairs, which has for its object the development in a county of the most profitable and permanent system of agri- culture, the establishment of community ideals, and the further- ance of the well-being, prosperity, and happiness of the rural people, through cooperation with local, State, and National agencies in the development and execution of a program of ex- tension work in agriculture and home economics. At the outset acknowledgment should be made of the excellent work already accomplished by many farmers' organizations. Thousands of cooperative agricultural associations, farmers ' clubs, granges, equities, gleaners, and other secret and nonsecret organ- izations are working together successfully for the betterment of rural conditions. The county farm bureau aims to coordinate and correlate the work of all these organizations, thereby unifying and strengthening the work they are doing. It does not sup- plant or compete with any existing organization, but establishes a bureau through which all may increase their usefulness through more direct contact with each other and with State and Na- tional institutions without in any way surrendering their in- i Adapted from U. S. Dept. of Agriculture, Department Circular 30, Washington, May, 1919, pp. 4-21. THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 519 dividuality. It is a nonpolitical, nonsectarian, nonsecret organi- zation representing the whole farming population, men, women, and children, and as such it acts as a clearing house for every association interested in work with rural people. While the original conception of the farm bureau was to develop county-agent work, it soon filled a broader field and it is now rapidly coming to be recognized as the official rural or- ganization for the promotion of all that pertains t6 a better and more prosperous rural life. It cooperates directly with the State and the Federal Government in the employment of county agents, home-demonstration agents, boys' and girls' club leaders, and other local extension workers. The services of the farm bureau are available to all extension agencies desiring to work within the county. It is quite as much interested in home- economics demonstrations, boys' and girls' club work, farm- management demonstrations, and the work of the various insti- tutional specialists as it is in the demonstrations carried on directly by the county agent. Thus while an outgrowth of county-agent work it has become broader than county-agent work, and is now the federating agency through which all groups of rural people, whether organized or unorganized, are able to secure a hearing. The primary purposes of the farm bureau are : 1. To encourage self-help through developing and exercising leadership in the rural affairs of each community. 2. To reveal to all the people of the county the agricultural possibilities of the county and how they may be realized. 3. To furnish the means whereby the agricultural problems of the county and the problems of the farm-home may be system- atically studied and their solution attempted through a county program of work to secure the well-being, prosperity, and happi- ness of all rural people. 4. To coordinate the efforts of existing rural agricultural forces, organized or unorganized, and to promote new lines of effort. 5. To bring to the agents representing the organization, the State agricultural college, and the Federal Department of Agri- culture the counsel and advice of the best people in the county as to what ought to be done and how to do it. 520 RURAL SOCIOLOGY 6. To furnish the necessary local machinery for easily and quickly supplying every community in the county with informa- tion of value to that community or to the county as a whole. MEMBERSHIP Membership in the farm bureau is open to all residents of the county and nonresident landowners who are directly in- terested in agriculture, men and women alike. The membership should be well distributed over the county and should be large enough to be thoroughly representative of the farmers of the county. At least ten per cent, of the farmers should be members before permanent organization is effected. At least eighty per cent, of the membership should consist of bona fide farmers or rural residents. The membership fee is necessary not only to provide funds to finance the work of the organization but also to secure the active interest of each member. Membership fees are needed to buy stationery, postage, office equipment and supplies, to publish exchange bulletins or other bureau publications, to pay the traveling expenses of the officers and committeemen to attend county, State, or National conferences, etc. If a clear-cut pres- entation of the facts regarding the nature of the organization, the duties and privileges of the members, and the work already accomplished and to be undertaken is made, no difficulty should be experienced in keeping up the membership from year to year. In some States yearly educational campaigns to acquaint the people of the counties with the nature of the bureaus and the work accomplished have produced a steady increase in the number of counties organized and in the number of members. Every member should give not only moral support to the work but also personal attention to some activity of the bureau. Each member should keep in close touch with the work in progress, assist in planning for the coming year, and participate in the election of the officers and executive committeemen. FARM-BUREAU PROGRAM OF WORK A farm-bureau program of work is a plan for the promotion of certain definite lines of work that pertain to a better and more prosperous agriculture and a more satisfactory rural and THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 521 home life. A farm-bureau project is a plan for developing some part of the program. For example, a dairy project might include plans for introducing pure-bred dairy cattle, increasing the number of silos, demonstrating better and more economical feeding, and improving the quality of butter made in the homes. Men, women, and boys and girls may cooperate in carrying out such a project. It is essential that each member, and more especially each committeeman, should play an important part in formulating the program and in promoting the projects or activities. The mechanics of planning and promoting the program and writing a project are outlined below. Development of the County Program. 1. In organizing a farm bureau at least one member of the temporary organiza- tion committee, whose duty it is to direct the organization cam- paign for the farm bureau, should be selected to look after the details of formulating a tentative county program of work. If a program including both agriculture and home economics is contemplated, a program of work committee of at least two members is desirable in order that problems more particularly relating to each phase of the program may be carefully analyzed. 2. The program-of-work committee should send out a question- naire to each member of the farm bureau requesting suggestions as to the most important problems and how to solve them. 3. The program-of-work committee should tabulate the an- swers to the questionnaires and secure additional information from the organizer and the temporary committees, and by per- sonal observation. 4. The chairman of the program-of-work committee or the organizer should lead the discussion at the county organization meeting and make a list of the problems on a blackboard. Such general headings as Farm, Home, and Community have some- times been used. 5. A tentative program of work should be planned at this meeting and project leaders selected to serve as members of the executive committee. The committee on nominations might well meet with the program-of-work committee in selecting project leaders. G. From the suggestions made at the annual meeting the execu- tive committee should work out a definite yearly program of 522 RURAL SOCIOLOGY work and refer projects to the project leaders to consider and develop the details. County, home demonstration, and club agents should be selected with reference to their ability to assist in carrying out projects. 7. The projects leaders should work with the county and home demonstration agents and club leaders in outlining the details of the projects. They should consider not only what should be undertaken, but who will do the work, how it will be done, when it will be done, and where (in which communities), it will be done. In considering what should be undertaken they should study the problems relating to the project more carefully than they have previously been studied, make a list of these problems, and prepare a chart showing the relation of each project to the entire farm-bureau program of work. This will tend to prevent duplication of effort. In considering who will do the work they should make a list of the teaching forces of the county and lo- cate them on an outline map of the county by communities. They should also list the amount of work the extension special- ists from the State agricultural college can render. In consid- ering how the work will be done they should outline methods for starting the work, securing demonstrators and cooperators, and following up the work until definite results are obtained. In considering ivhere the work will be done they should indicate on the map those communities in which the work needs to be under- taken. In considering when the work will be done they should prepare a project calendar placing the "months and weeks of the year across the top of a sheet of paper and the various parts of the project down the left-hand side of the sheet, and drawing lines to the right of each part of the project to indicate just how much time and at what periods the agents will need to spend on each part and the entire project. In planning the details of a project the recommendations of the college special- ists should be carefully considered. Not only local problems, but also State and National problems should be carefully studied. 8. The outline of each project, together with charts, maps, etc., will be presented by the project leader to the executive commit- tee for consideration. The committee and the agents employed will discuss the projects and find out from the project cal- endars, charts, and maps whether too much or too little work THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 523 is being undertaken during the year. In other words, the execu- tive committee will now consider the entire program of work, just how it will be undertaken, by whom, where, and when. 9. The county agent, the home-demonstration agent, or the county club leader will write the project. If the project in- volves work relating to two or all three of the agents, each should write the part directly relating to his or her work, or the pro- ject should be considered in conference and one agent delegated to write it. 10. Each project should then be submitted to the project leader for signature, to the executive committee for approval and the signature of the president and the agent or agents concerned, and to the extension director at the State agricultural college for his approval and for the consideration of any special- ist or leader concerned. Development of the Community Program. It is very essential that each community have a definite program of work based largely on the county prognam. The agents and one or more executive committeemen should visit each community where work is to be undertaken and discuss plans with a group of community leaders, tentatively selected by the temporary com- mittee chairman. 1. They should make a community map, locating on it the roads, churches, schoolhouses, farmers' organizations, and the houses of the farm-bureau members. 2. They should make a list of all the farm families in the com- munity, all the teaching forces, etc. 3. They should make a survey of the community problems, listing them under such headings as Farm, Home, and Com- munity. 4. They should plan a community program of work, based on the county program in so far as possible, but selecting additional projects as needed, since the problems of the community may differ from those in other communities. 5. The president of the organization shall appoint a project leader for each project in the community to serve as a member of the community committee. It is inadvisable to undertake a pro- ject in a community unless a capable project leader can be found who is willing to assume responsibility for the project. 524 RURAL SOCIOLOGY 6. The community program of work will be presented to the people of the community by the community committee at the winter community meeting of the farm bureau and cooperators and demonstrators will be secured. Annual Revision of Farm-Bureau Program. In order to keep the farm-bureau members interested in planning and carrying out a program of work it is desirable to send out questionnaires to the members each year, requesting suggestions as to desirable changes or additions in the program of work. It is also desir- able to discuss the program at meetings of the members in each community and at the annual meeting. The executive and com- munity committees will need to carefully revise the county and community programs each year, as projects or parts of projects are completed, or as new problems arise. They will, of course, use the suggestions of the members as a basis for any revision. As indicated, each county project leader may, at any time, call meetings of the project committee, composed of the various com- munity leaders to secure suggestions or to explain plans. Usually these committees will be called together before a revi- sion of the yearly program of work is undertaken. The following outline may serve to suggest each step in the revision of the program: (1) October. Regular monthly meeting of executive committee make plans for meetings of county project committees and plans for sending questionnaire to each farm-bureau member. (2) October. Meetings of each community committee consider local problems and suggestions of local members and make recommenda- tions to project committees. (3; October. Meetings of project committees discuss recommendations of community committees and suggest revision of projects. (4) November. Regular monthly meeting of executive committee pre- pare tentative program of work to present at annual meeting for consideration and discussion. (5) November. Annual meeting of farm bureau consider yearly program of work. (6) November. Revision of projects by project leaders and agents. (7) December. Regular monthly meeting of executive committee adopt program. (8) December. Revision of community programs by community com- mittees. The officers of a farm bureau consist of a president, a vice THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 525 president, a secretary, and a treasurer, all of whom should be elected at the annual meeting for a period of one year. The officers should be chosen because of special fitness to represent important projects or activities of the organization, as well as because of their fitness to perform the regular duties of the respective offices. For the most part the officers should be farm men and women. EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE An executive committee of from 5 to about 11 members, in- cluding the officers of the bureau as ex-officio members, should be elected by the bureau at its annual meeting for a period of one year. Each member may be called a county project leader. It is advisable to have an efficient nominating committee ap- pointed at the annual meeting, in order that the names of members capable of effective service in planning and develop- ing the projects or activities may be presented to the meeting. This committee may contain members suggested to the nominat- ing committee by the official county board of commissioners or supervisors, the grange, the farmers' union, the equity, the farmers' clubs, cooperative associations, county fair, schools, etc. The executive committee is usually selected so that practically all sections of the county will be represented, but in targe counties with inadequate transportation facilities committeemen should be selected who can attend the regular (monthly) meet- ings conveniently. In the selection of a committeeman one of the chief objects should be to secure a man or woman whose qualifications and personal interest fit him or her to plan and de- velop some one important line of work or activity of the bureau, such as farm-bureau organization, farm-bureau publications, meetings, exhibitions, finance, food-conservation work, crop im- provement, live-stock improvement, farm management, supply- ing farm labor, cooperation between farmers' clubs, development of better marketing facilities, etc. It is, therefore, evident that the number of committeemen will depend on the number of pro- jects or activities of the farm bureau. In order to prevent the committee from becoming too large and unwieldy, a committee- 526 RURAL SOCIOLOGY man may serve as the project leader for more than one project, especially for projects of a similar character. Duties. (1) Signs memoranda with State extension di- rector. (2) Makes up financial budgets. (3) Secures necessary funds. (4) Authorizes the expenditure of the bureau's money. (5) Determines the policies of the bureau. (6) Considers and approves programs and projects recom- mended by the county project committees and by members of the organization. (7) Cooperates with the State agricultural .college and the United States Department of Agriculture in the development of a program of work, the details of projects, and the employment of county agents, home-demonstration agents, boys' and girls' club leaders, and other local extension workers nominated or ap- proved by the State extension director. COMMUNITY COMMITTEES Local community leadership is essential to the success of the farm-bureau movement. Each distinct community in the county should have a community committee made up of at least one and preferably three to five local representatives or local leaders of the bureau. The number of committeemen will depend on the number of community projects or activities. Method of Choosing. Experience has indicated that until the farm-bureau has become permanently established in the county and the qualifications of a community committeeman are under- stood by the majority of the members, it has been wise to have the president of the bureau select the community committeemen, each to direct some project or activity of the bureau in the com- munity. The usual practice has been for the president, in con- sultation with the cooperatively employed agents and local lead- ers and subject to the approval of the executive committee, to ap- point the temporary chairmen of the committees. If the grange or other local club or organization is popular with the rural people in the community and is active in promoting the im- provement of agricultural and home conditions, the officers of such organization may be consulted in regard to the appoint- THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 527 ment of a temporary chairman. The remainder of each com- munity committee has usually been appointed by the president on recommendation of the temporary chairman, executive com- mitteeman, or the agents, after a careful survey of community conditions to determine the chief problems needing immediate attention. Each committeeman should be selected to direct some important project or activity of the organization to be undertaken in the particular community, such as farm-bureau organization, home economics demonstrations, boys' and girls' club work, food conservation, supplying farm labor and seeds, live-stock improvement, etc. Each has been called a community project leader. Before community committeemen are appointed the temporary community chairman should hold a meeting of prospective com- mitteemen at his home at which the following steps are taken: A community map should be prepared ; a more detailed survey of community conditions made ; projects selected and approved ; a promise secured from each prospective committeeman to as- sume responsibility for a project or activity; and a permanent chairman and possibly a secretary chosen. Then the president should notify each committeeman in writing of appointments for a period of one year. The appointment of each committeeman should have the approval of the executive committee. At the end of the year the president should appoint committeemen to assume the leadership for the next year's projects. It is usually desirable to retain some of the previous year's committeemen for at least another year, in order that the personnel of the com- mittee may not be entirely new. The plan of having all farm-bureau members assemble at a central point in the community for the purpose of studying com- munity problems, planning a program of work, and selecting project leaders to be appointed by the president as committee- man, has been tried in a few counties. This plan has seemed to necessitate the attendance at each meeting of the president or an executive committeeman and one or more of the paid agents of the organization, in order that the policies of the organization may be clearly set forth. This plan has been more successful in counties where the farm bureau has been organized for some time and the work has become well established and 528 RURAL SOCIOLOGY; understood by all the members. The farm bureau is primarily a county and not a community organization ; therefore, from the outset nothing should be done to give the wrong impression. The plan of having farm-bureau members assemble by communi- ties to elect or select community committeemen has not been pro- ductive of the best results, and for the first year of the bureau 's existence should not be encouraged. Meetings. As many meetings of each community committee should be held as are needed to plan and execute the program of the community. The president of the bureau, accompanied by one or more of the agents, and, if necessary, by one or more of the county project leaders, should always attend the meet- ing of the committee at which it organizes for the year. Such officers, project leaders, and agents as are needed to assist in promoting the work in hand in the community should attend other meetings of the local committee. Meetings of the com- munity committees should be encouraged whenever work is to be discussed or undertaken even though the agents or county project leaders can not be present. This will tend to pro- mote the plan of having the local people take the initiative in matters pertaining to the community. It is unwise, however, to encourage chairmen to call a committee meeting unless there is need of such meeting. If any of the county leaders or agents have matters of unusual importance which they wish to present quickly to the community committees, sectional meetings of sev- eral committees may be held, especially if the problems of the communities are similar. At least once a year each community committee should hold a business meeting to which the farm-bureau members residing in the community are invited. After a definite program of work has been formulated, and each community committeeman has agreed to assume respon- sibility for some part of the program, fewer meetings will suffice. For instance, if the State or county leader of cooperative pur- chasing and marketing work visits a community to promote the interests of such work, he will need to consult only with the community committeeman who heads some phase of this project in the community, unless it involves a decided change in the community program, in which case it may be desirable for them THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 529 to present the matter to the whole committee. The same would be true of other special lines of work, such as food-conservation work, farm-management demonstrations, live-stock work, etc., whenever the count}^ leaders on each line of work wish to pro- mote the interests of particular projects in the community. Duties. (1) To determine and discuss local problems, to assist in the formation of a county program of work, and to adapt this program locally, thereby formulating a community program of work which eventually will solve the local problems. (2) To secure for the community the desired community and individual assistance in solving local problems by arranging for at least one winter meeting and one summer demonstration meet- ing and for a few definite field, barn, and home demonstra- tions. (3) To secure for the farm bureau the active support of the community by informing the residents of its organization, pur- poses, and work ; by arranging the details and advertising local meetings, demonstrations, etc. ; and by soliciting and securing memberships. Privileges. Community committeemen are the recognized leaders of the farm bureau 's work in the community. They are brought into frequent contact with the county project leaders, county agents, home-demonstration agents, boys' and girls' club leaders, and other extension workers and specialists. By help- ing others they help themselves in information, inspiration, and general development. COUNTY PROJECT COMMITTEES As soon as a project is definitely adopted a county project committee is automatically authorized for each project. Each project or important activity will be represented by a county committee composed of the project leader on the executive com- mittee as chairman and the project leader on each of the com- munity committees which has formally adopted the project or activity. Purpose, Duties, and Meetings. To be most effective the executive committee should not contain as many members as would be required to give representation to each rural com- munity. In order that every organized community may have 530 RURAL SOCIOLOGY. direct representation in planning the county program of work and representing the policies of the organization, meetings of the project committees should be called by their respective chair- men. Such meetings are desirable if the unity of the county organization is to be preserved. Usually at least one meeting of each committee should be held each year to discuss the recom- mendations made by the various community committees, and to recommend to the executive committee a yearly county program of work, or to suggest the making of such changes in the per- manent program as may seem necessary. These recommenda- tions will supplement those of the members made in the answers to the questionnaires sent to each member requesting suggestions, or those made by the members at the annual meeting. The community project leaders should, of course, consider the sug- gestions in their respective communities before making definite recommendations. Additional meetings of project committees are desirable if important matters 'arise requiring their attention. Matters concerning only a few communities in the county fre- quently arise, in which case only the project leaders represent- ing those communities need to be called together. A luncheon is suggested as a desirable feature of at least one of the meetings of each project committee, or of -a general meeting of all com- mitteemen in the county. HOW TO ORGANIZE A COUNTY The assistance of a trained organizer to act as leader of the organization campaign may be secured from the State agri- cultural college by writing the State director of agricultural extension. Temporary headquarters should be provided for the organizer at the most centrally located place in the county, so that he may keep in close touch with the progress of the cam- paign in every community. The organizer will assist in the selection of a temporary county organization committee of about five members represent- ing all sections and all important agricultural and home in- terests in the county. If considered advisable a meeting of a few representative men and women from each community may be called to discuss the advisability of proceeding with the or- THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 531 ganization campaign and to elect a temporary organization com- mittee. Each committeeman should be elected because of special ability to direct a definite part of the preliminary organization program, such as publicity, finance, programs for local and county organization meetings, program of work for the organi- zation, constitution, and by-laws, etc. Plenty of good publicity matter, in the form of a series of several articles giving the advantages of organization in general, the history of the farm-bureau movement, results of local exten- sion work in neighboring counties, need of an organization to co- operate with the Government and the State in the employment of trained workers, plans for starting the work in this county, and the progress of the campaign, should be given to the local press at opportune times. (1) The organizer should explain farm-bureau work carefully and suggest the organization plan. (2) He should secure the committee's approval of the plan and its help in working out the details to meet local conditions. (3) The committee should decide on a definite date for the completion of the membership campaign and the necessary number of members to be secured before that date. (4) The location of the temporary community committeemen may be indicated, as each is selected by the county committee on an outline map of the county, showing the approximate com- munity boundaries. In considering prospective candidates for the community committees their qualifications for effective serv- ice on the permanent community committees for the ensuing year, as well as for temporary service, should be discussed. In so far as possible the number of members to be secured in each community should be decided and indicated on the map. (5) The county committeemen should give the organizer per- mission to use their names in sending letters to local committees, in newspaper articles, etc. (6) Definite arrangements should be made with each member of the county committee to attend the meetings of the temporary community committees where he can render the most service. (7) As far as possible, each county committeeman should understand his or her part of the preliminary organization 532 RURAL SOCIOLOGY program, such as publicity, finances, programs for local and county organization meetings, program of work for the organi- zation, constitution and by-laws, etc. ORGANIZATION OF TEMPORARY COMMUNITY COMMITTEES (1) Arrangements should be made by telephone with the pros- pective chairman of each community committee to hold a meet- ing of the committee at his home. Ask him to communicate with the other prospective committeemen, inviting them to attend the meeting. (2) These telephone calls should be supplemented by per- sonal letters signed by one of the members of the county com- mittee. It is best not to discuss the purpose of the meeting other than to suggest that advice is needed in determining matters of great interest to the farmers in the community. (3) The organizer, accompanied by the county committeeman who can be of most assistance in each community, should meet with each committee in its own community, or, if time does not permit, in a sectional meeting of the committees of several con- tiguous communities. (4) At this meeting the purpose of the organization and its relation to extension work, including work with farm men and women, and young people, and plans for organizing the county, should be explained carefully by means of charts, maps, and blackboard. Definite plans for the campaign in the community should be made and a definite promise to serve as committee- men during membership campaign secured from each prospective committeeman. COMMUNITY ORGANIZATION MEETINGS Following the committee meetings, an organization meeting should be held in each community at which the leader, and county and community committeemen, should explain county farm-bureau work and the importance of having a large per- centage of the men and women of the farms to cooperate in its work as members of the farm bureau. During a recess the local committeemen, already provided with membership cards and membership badges, should solicit members. The local committeemen should then take the names of those THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 533 not present at the meeting and arrange to visit each one per- sonally on the farm, and, if possible, secure his membership. On the suggestion of the community committee the organiza- tion meeting may be omitted and only the farm-to-farm member- ship campaign be used. Invitations signed by one or more members of the county com- mittee should be sent to all members to attend the county-wide organization meeting. Each should be urged to invite all in- terested persons to accompany him. The letter should also con- tain an addressed return postal card bearing the following questions : What do you want the farm bureau to do (1) for you or your farm? (2) for you in your home? (3) for your community? (4) for your county? The answers to the questions should be tabulated by the program-of-work committee and used at the county meeting as a basis for discussing a county program of work. COUNTY-WIDE ORGANIZATION MEETING (1) Several committeemen should line up outside the en- trance to the meeting place to secure additional members. They should be well provided with badges* membership cards, receipts, etc. (2) A constitution and by-laws should be adopted. (3) A permanent program of work should be planned. (4) Officers and executive commit eemen should be elected for a period of one year. (Each officer and committeeman should be elected because of special fitness to head some important project of the organization.) (5) Good music and at least one interesting speaker should be provided. DEVELOPMENT OF PERMANENT COUNTY ORGANIZATION Following the county organization meeting the permanent or- ganization should be perfected according to the plan stated in this circular and the officers and committeemen carefully trained for effective service. 534 RURAL SOCIOLOGY EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE MEETINGS At succeeding meetings of the executive committee arrange- ments should be made for suitable office quarters and equipment, and cooperatively employed agents, such as a county agent, a home-demonstration agent, a boys' a"nd girls' club leader, etc., representing the organization, the State agricultural college, and the United States Department of Agriculture should be engaged. Following the arrival of one or more of these agents in the county, the committee should formulate a definite program of work and arrangements should be perfected for the holding of community committee meetings for the purpose of formulat- ing community programs of work. As fast as suitable com- munity project leaders can be found, they should be appointed in writing by the president with the approval of the executive committee. ORGANIZATION AND MEETINGS OP PERMANENT COMMUNITY COMMITTEES At the first meeting of the prospective community committee in each community a community map should be made on which will be located the community center, schoolhouses, churches, farmers' organizations, roads, farm-bureau committeemen, and members. Community problems should be studied and a com- munity program of work planned to solve these problems. Definite plans for winter and summer meetings should be made at this time or at a succeeding meeting of the committee. Charts showing the relationship the organization sustains to the State agricultural college and the United States Department of Agri- culture and charts showing the organization of the farm-bureau should be prepared. Reasons for membership in the organiza- tion should be considered and plans made for increasing it. (See Circular 3, Office of Extension Work North and West, States Relations Service, for a more detailed explanation of holding community committee meetings, making community maps, etc.) Chairmen of project committees should call meetings as needed to discuss matters relating to their projects, to make plans, etc. THE ORGANIZATION OF RURAL INTERESTS 535 HOW TO EXPAND A FARM-BUREAU HAVING ONLY AN AGRICULTURAL PROGRAM TO INCLUDE HOME DEMONSTRATION AND BOYS' AND GIRLS' CLUB WORK A meeting of the executive committee of the farm bureau should be called to consider the advisability of expanding the organization, and to appoint temporary executive committee- men to represent the home-demonstration work and boys' and girls' club work. The home-economics representative should be a prominent and influential countrywoman of the county who seems well fitted to promote this phase of the work. The club representative may be the county superintendent of schools or other person interested in boys' and girls' club work. At the suggestion of the home-economics representative and of other interested people an influential countrywoman should be ap- pointed in each community where home-economics work is to be promoted, as a temporary member of the community com- mittee. The same general plan should be followed in selecting a club representative in each community. The temporary executive committeeman for home-demonstration work will call a meeting of the community representatives on home economics to discuss the agricultural program and adapt as much of it to their own work as possible. Additional projects may be selected and recommendations made to the executive committee for the appointment of additional project leaders to serve in a temporary capacity on the executive committee until the next annual meeting of the farm bureau. If deemed advisable, plans may also be made to conduct a campaign to increase the member- ship of women in the bureau. The plans should be submitted to the executive committee for approval. The county campaign should be in charge of the executive committee of the bureau and the campaign in a community in charge of the community committee. Naturally the work will be largely delegated to the women members of the executive and community committees. The county club representatives should call a meeting of the community club representatives to discuss the agricultural and home-economics program in order to determine what club work should be undertaken in the county. If the project leaders already at work are in sympathy with club work, no additional 536 RURAL SOCIOLOGY project leaders other than the temporary project leader OO UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY