Page images
PDF
EPUB

ments. Frequently a guarantee reads, nitrogen 2 to 3 per cent. That means 24 per cent. He comes within his guarantee. Moreover, another use of this guarantee is that it is a good way to get at whether it is a fair price or not. You can figure out if you have one of the tables of valuation which are published in the annual report of the station you can figure out whether the price he asks corresponds to his analyses of the fertilizer. The better way is not to buy so many tons of fertilizer but so many pounds of valuable ingredients at so much a pound.

For instance, if you were buying dried blood, instead of paying the man $30 a ton with his guaranty that it contains so many pounds of dried blood you make an agreement with him that you will pay him so much for every pound of nitrogen or phorsphoric acid that there is contained in it, the analysis to be made by some experiment station man. Then you would pay for just what you got and would know just what you got, and furthermore, if you wanted to compare prices with some other mannfacturer you could compare them directly. If the offer is so many cents a pound, see that the valuable ingredients compare closely and then you have the thing fixed. You can tell which is making the best offer. Finally, with regard to the laws of determining the value of fertilizers. In some states manufacturers are required to deposit with the state chemist a certified sample of the goods they desire to sell. In other states these matters are managed in different ways. Some states require every manufacturer to pay a certain sum before they can sell their goods. In other states analysis fees are required and the deposit fee besides. The provisions are various in the different states. So far as I know there are no laws of this sort in this state, and it has seemed to some of us that it is time some such action should be taken in this direction, now while the matter is in its infancy and before a large trade is established in this state, and before manufacturers and dealers have got into ruts and think any intervention is an imposition upon them. It would seem perfectly fair to establish some such law, and it is possible that some such law will be brought up at the legislature next

winter. I don't think the law ought to start out with the presumption that every dealer will cheat. It may be there is no need of such a presumption. The business is perfectly legitimate. As to specific provisions, I do not know as I am prepared to say anything very specific about it.

Mr. Plumb- I would like to ask a question: Given land at a given price of say $25 per acre and ordinary stable manure at 25 cents a load, would it pay to buy commercial fertilizers?

Prof. Armsby - Your question reminds me of a story of the professor of political economy in Yale College, who, when lecturing upon supply and demand, asked at the close of the class if anyone wanted to ask any questions. There was a pause when finally one of the young men said: Professor, suppose I buy a horse for $80 and sell him for $100, do I do right? The professor said, now, that is a question to be settled between you and your God. Such a question as you ask me depends altogether upon what a man can get out of his land.

Mr. Plumb - You give us only general principles.

Prof. Armsby - Exactly, that is just what we pretend to do. I would say, though, that I don't think it would do at the prices you gave to use fertilizers.

The convention now adjourned until evening, to visit the grounds of F. W. Loudon. Carriages had been provided, and all who wished, were taken to Mr. Loudon's place. The party was shown every attention by Mr. Loudon and his assistants and an hour or two was spent in viewing the wonderful showing of berries on Mr. Loudon's grounds. Tables were spread under the shade trees and those who wished were served with delicious strawberries and cream. The party returned to the city in time for supper, though few felt the need of it, and all joined in pronouncing Mr. Loudon a most bountiful host as well as a most successful strawberry grower.

EVENING SESSION.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 16. The first on the programme for the evening was to have been a paper by Miss Ella Giles, of Madison, but as Miss Giles was not present, Mrs. B. K. Towne, of Chicago, then read a paper on

"DEBTS OF HONOR."

We are born into this world debtors. Man did not bargain with the Author of his being, agreeing to a contract that read: "For so much life I promise to pay," etc. Instead, life was simply placed at his account on what may be styled long time. And the way that it was thus placed, with no questions asked as to standing, no pledges required, no notes given, speaks of an established credit, flattering to self love, and he who appreciates this, sees that at the very outset he was placed upon his honor.

Life is wonderful, whether it be found in the heart of a flower, or the heart of humanity, and its wonderfulness consists even in its possibilities.

Down in the meadow we find a wild rose blushing and paling in the sun, balancing its cup to hold the dew today, to-morrow a heap of frailty upon the sod. Behind the white paling of a garden fence we find a second rose unlike the first as regal beauty from frail loveliness, and looking down into its velvet depths we find it hard to realize that this second rose is but the expansion of possibilities the first held in trust.

Half way up the mountain side we find a gnarled grape vine sturdily reaching to hang its fruit on the top of a dead plum tree; fruit that for all the rare sunshine bathing the hillside is sour and unlovable.

On a trellace on a southern terrace we find a second vine, borne down by its weight of luscious vintage; again and again we pluck and partake, yet this second vine is but the out-reaching tendrils of the first.

Down in an alley we find a lad, slow of step, sluggish of

speech, a scraggly specimen of humanity such as is sometimes found upon life's hillside; over in yonder hall of learning we find a silver-tongued orator, showering down scintilating thoughts upon a delighted audience; and yet again the second is but the out-growth of the first.

But while life is given as freely to the rose upon the meadow as to the rosé behind the garden pale, we rightfully expect more from the latter than the former, and we are not disappointed. Nature is honorable and pays what she owes to the last farthing of expectancy. Does man? There are some debts we can never pay. We can never pay the mother for the breath she spent toiling into motherhood. We can never pay the father for the blows he struck on life's anvil to provision needs our coming awakened. We can never pay the generations back of us, whose combined skill hung in anticipation of our coming, the lightly swinging cradle in place of the hollowed log they themselves were rocked in, and prepared the tasteful raiment of civilization rather than nature's garments once the all needful. But while there are debts we cannot pay there are others that we can, and he who leaves a debt unpaid that may be paid smirches his honor.

Life is complex, and while the rose upon the meadow is the cradle of all rose-life, the reaching out of that rose-life takes many individual forms of expression, and each to be developed successfully must be understood; for we owe it to nature when we enter into partnership with her, as junior member of the firm, that we place ourselves in sympathy with her designs, and not set blindly to work fastening the grape back upon the unyielding trellace, in a vain attempt to make it grow straight enough for fence posts.

I have before me the growers of vines, vines that in many cases cluster around homes, in which are other vines, all with individual needs and far reaching tendrils.

Does the grower of the vine without place it in soil of his own choosing, and there bid it grow. Aye. But he is careful to choose only such soil as he knows the nature of that vine requires.

Down among the Berkshire hills a young man went

a-wooing, as young men will the wide world over- and finding the dove he thought best suited to his nature, he cooed, and the dove cooed back as doves will the wide world over and so both settled undor one roof tree. It was something of a responsibility that young man took upon himself when he deliberately set about drawing a young girl from out a path. She walked contentedly in until he taught her differently, teaching her to keep step to step with him for all time to come. But the first winter passed like a slant of sunshine, and spring came and the plow was asked to run its furrow; and the days were asked to hold more than they could hold, and so ran over into other days; and after the plowing came the planting, and between times, for catch-up-work, the vegitable garden. "John you'll not forget the poesy bed, Annie said leaning from the window to watch the beet beds nearing the well curb, and John looking at the picture his dove made framed in sunshine, said: "You can't eat poesies, Annie."

But he made the bed for her, and though it was much too small for all the seeds Annie had in waiting, and small indeed compared to the beet and turnip beds, Annie made the best of it, and laughed as she said excusingly," John's so fond of his vegetables." The next year Annie called again from over the garden beds: "John, you'll remember and give me a flower bed?" And John answered: "Yes, it you'll give it back in time for a second sowing of turnips." But Annie knew her husband too well to take this, save in jest. But as she saw how very small the bed reserved for her use was smaller than last year-and so narrow, showing where the spade had cut down on each side of it to make more room for the turnips and beets, it some how made her think of a grave, but as she murmured again, "John's so fond of his vegetables," she called a smile to her lips, and made it stay there ever after her eyes grew sad. Again spring came, and this time Annie did not call to John, but, in a further room she hummed a tune, and as she touched the cradle thought: "John'll not forget the flower bed, seeing I've always had it." But upon going to the window later, she found that John had forgotton, the

« PreviousContinue »