images produced by ,core ,historical    
,literature in ,agriculture 7,,chla71   
,cornell ,university7                   
,,village ,,improvements    ,,and       
,,farm ,,villages4     ,by     ,,geo4   
,e4 ,,waring1 ,,jr4     ,,consulting    
,,engineer ,,for ,,sanitary ,,and       
,,agricultural    ,,works4     ,,boston3
    ,,james ,r4 ,,osgood ,,and          
,,company1    7,late ,ticknor  ,fields1 
and ,fields1 ,osgood1  ,co47    #ahgg4  
,,copyright1 #ahgg1    ,,by ,,geo4 ,e4  
,,waring1 ,,jr4     ,,franklin ,,press3 
,,rand1 ,,avery1  ,,co41    ,,boston4   
,the following papers on ,village       
,improvements and ,farm ,villages are   
reprinted1 with some amendments1 from   
,scribners ,monthly4 ,these constitute  
the more practical part of the book1 so 
far as villages are concerned4  ,it has1
 however1 been judged appropriate to add
 to them a paper on ,eastern ,farming1  
which originally appeared in ,the       
,atlantic ,monthly1 and which continues 
the discussion of the question of       

village residence as a means for        
mitigating some of the hardships which  
beset the lives of isolated country     
families4  ,the wide-spread and growing 
interest in the topics considered makes 
it seem worth while to give these short 
essays a more permanent form4     ,g4   
,e4 ,w41 ,,jr4    ,,newport1 ,r4,i41    
,june1 #ahgg4      ,,contents4          
,,page    ,,village ,,improvements      
#aa     ,,village ,,sanitary ,,work     
#fi     ,,farm ,,villages               
#aad     ,,life ,,and ,,work ,,of ,,the 
,,eastern ,,farmer            #aei      
,,list ,,of ,,illustrations4            
,,page    ,,fig4 #a4--;,,drainage ,,of  
,,hill-,,side ,,foot-,,path        #ca  
,,fig4 #b4--,,section ,,of ,,road ,,with
 ,,drains            #dd     ,,fig4     
#c4--,,pipes ,,resting ,,on ,,their     
,,shoulders       #gc     ,,fig4        
#d4--,,pipes ,,resting ,,on ,,their     
,,full ,,length     #gc     ,,fig4      
#e4--;,,grease-,,trap                   
#gi     ,,fig4 #f4--;,,field',s         

,,flush-,,tank                     #hj  
,,fig4 #g4--,,the ,,emerson ,,ventilator
                 #hf     ,,fig4         
#h4--;,,diagram ,,illustrating ,,manner 
,,of ,,sewage    ,,disposal ,,at        
,,lenox1 ,,mass4                        
#ig     ,,fig4 #i4--,,settling ,,basin  
#ajb     ,,fig4 #aj4--;,,arrangement    
,,of ,,absorption ,,drains1    #aje     
,,fig4 #aa4--;,,division ,,of ,,four    
,,square ,,miles ,,with    ,,central    
,,village                               
#abd     ,,fig4 #ab4--;,,division ,,of  
,,the ,,central ,,village      #abf     
,,fig4 #ac4--;,,division ,,of ,,the     
,,central ,,open ,,space    ,,of ,,the  
,,village                               
#aca     ,,fig4 #ad4--,,present         
,,division ,,and ,,settlement ,,of      
,,tract ,,in ,,rhode ,,island           
#acc     ,,fig4 #ae4--,,the ,,rhode     
,,island ,,tract ,,with ,,its           
,,buildings ,,gathered ,,together ,,into
 ,a ,,compact    ,,village              
#ace     ,,fig4 #af4--,,proposed        

,,arrangement ,,of ,,the ,,rhode        
,,island ,,farm ,,village               
#aci     ,,village ,,improvements4   ,it
 may be because the newness of our      
country and the fragile character of our
 early structures have prevented the    
accumulation of inferior1 ugly1 and     
uncomfortable houses1 as the nucleus    
around which later building has         
crystallized2 it may be from            
circumstances which have prevented the  
isolated residence of the better classes
 of our people2 or it may be the result 
of accident4 ,whatever the reason1 it is
 beyond dispute that the ,united ,states
 is par excellence a land of beautiful  
villages4 ,north1 south1 east1 and west1
 there are plenty of hideous            
conglomerations of poor-looking houses1 
with an absence of every element of     
beauty2 but there are thousands of other
 villages scattered all over the land1  
which are full of the evidences of good 
taste in their regulation and in their  
management4  ,as a rule1 these more     

attractive features are very much       
modified by the presence of badly-kept  
private places or neglected public      
buildings1 and by a general air of      
untidiness4 ,still1 the foundation of   
attractiveness is there2 and nothing is 
needed beyond a well-organized and      
well-guided control of public sentiment1
 to remove or to hide the more          
objectionable features1 and to permit   
such beauty as the village may possess  
to manifest itself4  ,the real elements 
of beauty in a village are not fine     
houses1 costly fences1 paved roadways1  
geometrical lines1 mathematical grading1
 nor any obviously costly improvements4 
,they are1 rather1 cosiness1 neatness1  
simplicity1 and that homely air that    
grows from these and from the presence  
of a home-loving people4  ,to state the 
case tersely1 the shiftless village is a
 hideous village1 while the charm which 
we often realize without analyzing it   
comes of affectionate care and          
attention4  ,there are villages in ,new 

,england1 in ,western ,new ,york1 and   
all over the ,west1 even to the far side
 of ,arkansas1 which impress the visitor
 at once as being homelike and full of  
sociability and kindliness2 which       
delight him1 and lead him almost to wish
 that his own lot had been cast within  
their shades4 ,these are chiefly        
villages where the evidences of public  
and private care predominate1 or are at 
least conspicuous4 ,a critical          
examination would1 in almost every case1
 develop very serious evidence of       
neglect1 unwholesomeness1 and bad       
neighborhood4  ,within a few years1     
beginning1 ,i believe1 in               
,massachusetts1 the more thoughtful of  
those whose affections are centred in   
their village homes have united in      
organized efforts to make their villages
 more tidy1 to interest all classes of  
society in attention to those little    
details the neglect of which is fatal1  
and to make the village1 what it        
certainly should be1 an expression of   

the interest of its people in their     
homes and in the surroundings of their  
daily life4  ,the first of these        
associations of which ,i have any       
knowledge 7though1 as such work is      
unobtrusive1 there may have been many   
before it7 was the ,laurel ,hill        
,association of ,stockbridge1 ,mass4 ,it
 takes its name from a wooded knoll in  
the centre of the village1 which had    
been dedicated to public use4 ,the first
 object of the association was to       
convert this knoll into a village park4 
,then they took in hand the village     
burial-ground1 which was put in proper  
condition and suitably surrounded with  
hedge and railing4 ,then the broad      
village street was properly graded and  
drained1 and agreeable walks were made  
at its sides4 ,incidentally to this1 the
 people living along both sides of the  
streets were encouraged to do what they 
could to give it an appropriate setting 
by putting their own premises into      
tasteful condition and maintaining them 

so4 ,the organization worked well1 and  
accomplished good results4 ,the ,rev4   
,n4 ,p4 ,eggleston1 formerly of         
,stockbridge1 in a paper on village     
improvements written for the ,new ,york 
,tribune1 thus describes the collateral 
work and influences of the ,laurel ,hill
 ,association3--       ,next followed   
the planting of trees by the roadside   
wherever trees      were lacking4 ,the  
children1 sometimes disposed in their   
thoughtlessness to treat young trees too
 rudely1 were brought in as      helpers
 of the association1 while at the same  
time put under a      beneficial culture
 for themselves4 ,any boy who would     
undertake to      watch and care for a  
particular tree for two years was       
rewarded by      having the tree called 
by his name4 ,other children were paid  
for      all the loose papers and other 
unsightly things which they would       
pick up and remove from the street4     
,gradually the work of the association  
extended4 ,it soon took in      hand the

 streets connected with the main street4
 ,year by year it      pushed out walks 
from the centre of the village toward   
its outer      borders2 year by year it 
extended its line of trees in the same  
manner2 and year by year there has been 
a marked improvement in the      aspect 
of the village4 ,little by little1 and  
in many nameless ways1      the houses  
and barns1 the dooryards and farms1 have
 come to wear a      look of neatness   
and intelligent1 tasteful care1 that    
makes the      ,stockbridge of to-day   
quite a different place from the        
,stockbridge      of twenty years ago4  
,travellers passing through it are apt  
to speak      of it with admiration as a
 finished place1 and1 compared with most
      even of our ,new ,england         
villages1 it has such a look2 but the   
,laurel ,hill ,association does not     
consider its home finished1 nor      its
 own work completed4 ,still the work    
goes on4 ,committees are even      now  
conning plans for further improvements4 

,by itself1 or by      suggestions and  
stimulations offered to others1 the     
association is      aiming at the       
culture of the village people through   
other agencies      than those of       
outward and physical adornment4 ,it     
fosters libraries1      reading-rooms1  
and other places of resort where        
innocent and      healthful games1 music
 and conversation will tend to promote  
the      social feeling1 and lessen vice
 by removing some of its causes4  ,no   
one can drive through this beautiful old
 place without realizing the effect of  
some influence different from that which
 has usually been at work in country    
towns4 ,one feels that it is a village  
of homes2 that the people who live in it
 love it1 and that it has no public or  
private interest so insignificant as to 
be neglected4  ,i have cited this       
instance somewhat at length1 because it 
was the first1 as it is the most        
complete1 that has come to my notice4   
,in other places1 more serious work of  

improvement has been undertaken in the  
direction of sewerage1 gas-lighting1 c4 
,in fact1 the present writing was       
suggested by frequent requests for      
information and advice on the more      
practical parts of the subject4  ,at the
 outset it is to be said that the       
organization and control of the village 
society is especially woman's work4 ,it 
requires the sort of systematized       
attention to detail1 especially in the  
constantly-recurring duty of cleaning   
up1 that grows more naturally out of the
 habit of good housekeeping than out of 
any occupation to which men are         
accustomed4 ,then1 too1 it calls for a  
degree of leisure which women are the   
most apt to have1 and it will especially
 engage their interest as being a real  
addition to the field of their ordinary 
routine of life4 ,the sort of enthusiasm
 which has led to marked success in the 
,dorcas ,society and other organized    
action outside of the household1 for    
which ,american country women are noted1

 will find here a new and engaging      
object4 ,this1 however1 is only a       
suggestion by the way1 and one which may
 or may not be appropriate under varying
 circumstances4  ,if we assume1 which is
 not altogether true1 that the main     
purpose of village improvement is to    
improve the appearance of the village1  
we must still understand that the direct
 object of the society should not be    
alone nor chiefly in the direction of   
appearance4  ,what it is especially     
desirable that a village should appear  
to be is3 a wholesome1 cleanly1 tidy1   
simple1 modest collection of country    
homes1 with all of its parts and        
appliances adapted to the pleasantest   
and most satisfactory living of its     
people4 ,all improvements should        
therefore have this fundamental         
tendency1 and every element of          
adornment1 and every evidence of careful
 attention1 should be only an outgrowth 
of the effort to obtain the best        
practical results4 ,costly park railing 

where no railing is needed1 width of    
roadway greater than the needs of the   
community require1 formal geometric     
lines and surfaces where more natural   
slopes and curves would be practically  
better1 elaborate fountains or statuary 
out of keeping with the general         
character of the village1 7the gift of a
 public-spirited1 ambitious1 and        
pretentious fellow-townsman17 and       
isolated examples1 as in a church or    
schoolhouse1 of a style of architecture 
which would be more appropriate for a   
city1--all these are obtrusive and      
objectionable1 and are consequently in  
bad taste4 ,in so far as these or any   
other elements of improvement are       
unsuited to the conditions in which they
 are placed1 they are undesirable2 and  
it would be well for those having the   
interest of the village in charge1 to   
adopt an early resolution to accept no  
gifts1 and to allow no work of          
construction or embellishment1 which is 
not1 first of all1 appropriate to the   

modest character of a well-regulated    
country village4  ,if every public      
building is sufficient for its uses and 
suggests no undue outlay for show alone2
 if the roads and walks are such as the 
uses of the people require2 if the      
fountain suggests a tasteful ornament   
and centre of freshness and coolness1   
rather than a monument of some citizens 
liberality and ambition2 if the village 
green or park is a proper               
pleasure-ground for old and young2 and1 
in short1 if every thing that is done   
and every dollar that is expended has   
for its object only the improvement of  
the conditions of living1--then there   
will be needed only the element of      
careful keeping to maintain always the  
best sort of beauty that is possible    
under the circumstances4  ,no           
satisfactory result can be attained     
without organization4 ,the work will    
necessarily require much money and more 
time in order to avoid an undue tax upon
 individuals4 ,it is desirable1 too1    

that1 so far as possible1 every member  
of the community should be interested in
 the work1 and should contribute in     
labor or in money according to his      
means4 ,this general interest can be    
secured much better through the         
influence of an organization in which   
all are interested1 than by any         
individual effort4  ,the association    
should become the distributor1 not only 
of the moneys accruing from membership  
fees1 c41 but of contributions made by  
citizens1 or subscriptions raised by    
combined effort for general or specific 
works of improvement4 ,it should be1 in 
fact1 not only the inciter of public    
spirit1 but the director of public      
effort4  ,the precise form of           
constitution for such an association    
must necessarily depend more or less on 
circumstances2 and ,i sketch only as a  
basis for discussion1 the following form
 suggested by the regulations governing 
the ,laurel ,hill ,association of       
,stockbridge3--       ,,article ,i4     

,this ,association shall be called ,the 
,village ,improvement      ,association 
of ----4       ,,article ,,ii4          
,the object of this ,association shall  
be to improve and ornament the          
streets and public grounds of the       
village by planting and      cultivating
 trees1 establishing and maintaining    
walks1 grading and      draining        
roadways1 establishing and protecting   
good grass plats and      borders in the
 streets and public squares1 securing a 
proper public      supply of water1     
establishing and maintaining such       
sewerage as      shall be needed for the
 best sanitary condition of the village1
      providing public fountains and    
drinking-troughs1 breaking out paths    
through the snow1 lighting the streets1 
encouraging the formation      of a     
library and reading-room1 and generally 
doing whatever may      tend to the     
improvement of the village as a place of
 residence4       ,,article ,,iii4      
,the officers of this ,association shall

 be a ,president1 two                   
,vice-,presidents1 a ,secretary1 and a  
,treasurer1 who shall constitute        
the ,executive ,committee4 ,these       
officers shall be elected at the        
annual meeting1 and shall hold their    
offices until their successors          
shall have been elected4       ,,article
 ,,iv4       ,it shall be the duty of   
the ,president1 and in his absence of   
the      senior ,vice-,president1 to    
preside at all meetings of the          
,association1 and to carry out all      
orders of the ,executive                
,committee4       ,,article ,v4         
,it shall be the duty of the ,secretary 
to keep a correct and careful           
record of all proceedings of the        
,association1 and of the ,executive     
,committee1 in a book suitable for their
 preservation2 to give      notice of   
all meetings of the ,association and of 
the ,executive      ,committee2 to make 
all publications1 and to give all public
 and      private notices ordered by the

 ,executive ,committee1 and to attend   
to all the correspondence of the        
,association4       ,,article ,,vi4     
,it shall be the duty of the ,treasurer 
to keep the funds of the                
,association1 and to make such          
disbursements as may be ordered by      
the ,executive ,committee4              
,,article ,,vii4       ,it shall be the 
duty of the ,executive ,committee to    
manage all the      affairs of the      
,association1 to employ all laborers1 to
 make all      contracts1 to expend all 
moneys1 and generally to direct and     
superintend all improvements which in   
their discretion1 and with      the     
means at their command1 will best serve 
the public interest4      ,the          
,executive ,committee shall hold a      
meeting at least once in each           
month1 and as much oftener as they may  
deem expedient4       ,the ,executive   
,committee shall have power to institute
 premiums to      be awarded for        
planting and protecting ornamental      

trees1 and for      doing such other    
acts as may seem to them worthy of such 
encouragement4 ,they shall also         
encourage frequent public meetings      
of the ,association and of citizens     
generally1 both with a view to          
maintain an interest in their work1 and 
for the general      encouragement of   
the habit of meeting for discussion and 
amusement4       ,,article ,,viii4      
,three members of the ,executive        
,committee present at any meeting       
shall constitute a quorum for           
transacting business2 and the vote of   
a majority of those present shall be    
binding on the ,association4            
,,article ,,ix4       ,no debt shall be 
contracted by the ,executive ,committee 
beyond the      amount of available     
funds within their control to pay it2   
and no      member of this ,association 
shall be liable for any debt of the     
,association beyond the amount of his or
 her subscription4       ,,article ,x4  
,every person over fourteen years of age

 who shall plant and      protect a tree
 under the direction of the ,executive  
,committee1 or      who shall pay the   
sum of one dollar annually1 and shall   
obligate      him or herself to pay the 
same for three years1 shall be a member 
of this ,association2 and every child   
under fourteen years of age1      who   
shall pay or shall become obligated to  
pay as before the sum of                
twenty-five cents annually for three    
years1 shall be a member of      this   
,association4       ,,article ,,xi4     
,the payment of ten dollars annually for
 three years1 or of      twenty-five    
dollars in one sum1 shall constitute a  
person a member      of this            
,association for life4       ,,article  
,,xii4       ,the autograph signatures  
of all members of the ,association shall
 be      preserved in a book suitable   
for that purpose4       ,,article       
,,xiii4       ,an annual meeting of the 
,association shall be held at such place
 as      the ,executive ,committee may  

direct1 on the fourth ,wednesday of     
,august1 at two o'clock1 ,p4,m4 ,notice 
of such meeting shall be posted      on 
each of the churches and at the         
post-office at least seven days         
prior to the time of holding said       
meetings1 and a written notice          
shall be sent to all non-resident       
members4 ,other meetings of the         
,association may be called by the       
,executive ,committee on seven days'    
notice as above prescribed4             
,,article ,,xiv4       ,at the annual   
meeting1 the ,executive ,committee shall
 report the      amount of money        
received during the year1 and the source
 from which      it has been received2  
the amount of money expended during the 
year1      and the objects for which it 
has been expended2 the number of trees  
planted at the cost of the ,association2
 the number planted by      individuals1
 with the location1 the kind of tree1   
and the name of      the planter2 and   
generally all of the acts of the        

,committee4 ,this      report shall be  
entered on the record of the            
,association4       ,,article ,,xv4     
,any person who shall plant a tree under
 the direction of the      ,executive   
,committee1 and shall protect it for    
five years1 shall be      entitled to   
have such tree known forever by his or  
her name4       ,,article ,,xvi4        
,this ,constitution may be amended by   
the ,executive ,committee with      the 
approval of the majority of the members 
present at any annual      meeting of   
the ,association1 or at any special     
meeting1 the notice      of which shall 
have been accompanied by a copy of the  
proposed      amendment1 with the       
statement that the amendment is to be   
voted on      at such meeting4  ,i have 
provided1 in the above draft of a       
constitution1 for an executive committee
 of only five members2 for the reason   
that1 while it will be comparatively    
easy to secure the services of this     
number1 the duties and responsibilities 

of a larger committee would be so       
distributed that there would be too     
often occasion for the application of   
the old adage3 ,what is everybody's     
business is nobody's business4 ,the     
,laurel ,hill ,association has an       
executive committee of fifteen1 in      
addition to seven officers4 ,this large 
committee 7twenty-two7 serves to secure 
the interest of a larger number of      
citizens2 but the same thing may be as  
well accomplished by inviting the       
co-operation of citizens in the work of 
sub-committees1 the chairman of each of 
which would be a member of the regular  
executive committee4 ,in ,easthampton1  
,mass41 there is a board of fourteen    
directors1 and there are committees on  
sanitary matters1 on setting out trees1 
on sidewalks and hitching-posts1 c4 ,it 
would be prudent to restrict the number 
of members of these sub-committees to   
three2 one from the executive committee 
and two from outside4  ,besides special 
executive work1 a vast deal has been    

done wherever improvement societies have
 been organized1 in the way of          
stimulating citizens to adorn their     
private grounds1 or at least to keep    
their grounds and fences in good order1 
removing weeds and rubbish from the     
sidewalk1 keeping the grass well trimmed
 and free from litter and leaves4 ,what 
most detracts from the good appearance  
of any village is the slovenly look     
which comes from badly hung gates1      
crooked fences1 absent pickets1 and     
general shiftlessness about private     
places2 and it is by encouraging        
citizens to take a pride in attention to
 these minor details1 that the          
association will do its best work4 ,this
 result may be accomplished almost      
entirely without the expenditure of     
money4 ,it is in attention to little    
things and in securing the co-operation 
of private owners1--a co-operation which
 will call for an inappreciable amount  
of labor1--that the most telling work of
 the officers of the society is to be   

done4  ,so far as these details are     
concerned1 it is hardly necessary in a  
paper of this sort to do more than to   
call attention to them4 ,they are within
 the capacity of every citizen1 and they
 will naturally suggest themselves to   
any person who would be likely to       
undertake the direction of an           
improvement association4 ,there are     
other and really more important objects 
looking to a certain amount of landscape
 gardening and engineering1 on which    
specific instruction may be desired1 and
 often in cases where it will be        
impracticable to employ professional    
assistance4 ,these are as follows3--    
#a4 ,the construction of sidewalks4  #b4
 ,the construction and care of roadways4
  #c4 ,the supply of water1 and the     
construction of drinking-troughs4  #d4  
,the laying-out and adornment of public 
squares and other open spaces4  #e4 ,the
 establishment of a system of sewerage  
or sanitary drainage1 including the     
removal of excessive soil moisture4     

,,sidewalks4  ,no one thing has more to 
do with the comfort of those living in  
country villages than sidewalks which   
are good at all seasons of the year4    
,those fortunate villages which are     
built on a gravelly soil1 with a perfect
 natural drainage1 need little more in  
this direction than such a conformation 
of the surface as will prevent water    
from standing on the footway when the   
ground is frozen4 ,at all other times it
 sinks naturally away into the earth4   
,it is much more often the case that the
 character of the soil or subsoil       
prevents a settling away of water1 or   
that subterranean oozing from higher    
ground keeps the earth throughout the   
spring and autumn1 and after heavy rains
 in summer1 damp1 and often sloppy4     
,wherever the ground is of such a       
character as to prevent the rapid       
sinking to a considerable depth of all  
excessive moisture1 there is sure to be 
a disagreeable condition of the footway 
whenever the lower soil is locked with  

frost1 and the surface is thawed4 ,even 
with the best drainage1 natural or      
artificial1 this condition will exist   
for a short time while frost is coming  
out of the ground2 but with good        
drainage it is of so temporary a        
character as hardly to justify any      
expensive finishing of the surface1     
except perhaps in the case of the most  
frequented walks4  ,to overcome         
occasional sloppiness where the         
difficulty is not deep-seated1 there is 
no cheaper nor better device than to    
dress the surface with coal-ashes4      
,indeed1 if these are used to a         
sufficient thickness1 they are          
practically as good as concrete or the  
best gravel4 ,when first applied1 they  
are dusty and unpleasant2 but the first 
wetting lays the dust1 and they soon    
settle to a firm consistency1 and make a
 very pleasant walk1 with the great     
advantage of being entirely barren1 and 
preventing the growth of weeds and      
grass4 ,if the ashes of a village are   

collected and screened1 the cinders     
being used at the bottom1 and the       
surface being smoothly dressed with the 
finer material1 they will make as       
satisfactory walks1 even where the use  
is considerable1 as any other material4 
,the color is unobtrusive1 and the      
surface soon becomes hard enough to bear
 sweeping4 ,those who are more ambitious
 for effect may prefer a walk made of   
tar-and-gravel concrete2 and this1 if   
well made1 is good1 durable1 and        
satisfactory4 ,so far as the improvement
 association is concerned1 it can find  
many ways for expending the difference  
of cost between ashes and concrete1     
which will accomplish a much more       
telling result4  ,if gravel can be      
obtained without too much expense1 it   
may be used with excellent results to a 
depth of from one to three inches1      
according to the porosity of the        
subsoil1--more being needed where the   
ground is inclined to become soft4 ,in  
using gravel it is best either to screen

 it1 using the coarser parts below and  
the finer parts at the surface1 or1     
after applying it1 to add a thin layer  
of earth1 barely sufficient to fill its 
spaces1--to bind it so as to give it a  
firm and solid consistency4 ,loose and  
rattling gravel makes a handsome walk to
 look at1 but an unpleasant one to walk 
upon4 ,nothing is more agreeable than   
well-trodden1 dry1 root-bound earth1 as 
where grass has been worn away by       
frequent use2 but this becomes at once  
objectionable on being saturated with   
rain or moistened by melting frost4     
,illustration3 ,,fig4 #a4  ,it is a     
common impression1 that all thoroughly  
good foot-paths must be dug out to a    
considerable depth1 filled with loose   
stones1 and dressed at the top with some
 good finishing material2 but this is   
not necessary even for the best work4   
,the great point is to secure a thorough
 draining of the sub-stratum1 so that   
there shall be no rising of ooze-water  
from below1 and so that the ground shall

 be free from such saturation as to     
cause heaving during frost4 ,this       
condition may be secured by a suitable  
draining of the ground immediately under
 the walk1 and by the use of a          
well-compacted and tightly-bound surface
 covering of such form as to shed or    
turn away rain-water4 ,figure #a 7p4    
#ca7 shows the cross section of a       
foot-path six feet wide on slightly     
sloping ground1 where we have to        
apprehend an oozing of subsoil water    
from the land at the highest side4 ,the 
centre of the walk is slightly          
crowning1--say one inch higher than the 
sides1--so that rain falling upon it    
will flow readily toward the            
grass-border at either side4 ,to prevent
 the ponding of water at the sides when 
the ground is frozen1 the surface of the
 walk at its edges should be well above 
the level of the adjoining ground2 but  
it may be necessary under some          
circumstances to furnish1 here and      
there1 a channel or surface-gutter      

across the walk1 to allow the           
accumulation at the higher side to      
escape4 ,rarely will deep gutters at the
 sides be necessary or desirable4 ,if   
the walk is laid at a sufficient height 
to turn water on to the adjoining ground
 instead of receiving water from this1  
it will be easy to keep it dry4 ,we will
 assume that the path in question is to 
be made over a tenacious clay soil1 with
 a considerable oozing from the         
hillside1--the most unfavorable         
condition that can be found1 especially 
in cold climates4 ,the first thing to be
 secured is the cutting-off of the      
subsoil water from the hill4 ,this may  
be done by digging a trench as narrow as
 possible1--six inches will be better   
than more1 as requiring less filling    
material1--to a depth of three feet4 ,in
 the bottom of this drain lay a common  
land-tile drain1 with collars at the    
joints if these can be procured1 and1 if
 not1 with a bit of paper laid over the 
joints to prevent the entrance of loose 

material1 and to hold the pipes in place
 during construction4 ,the ditch should 
then be filled with cinders1 gravel1 or 
coarse sand4 ,if stones are to be used1 
they should be broken to a small        
size1--not more than one inch in        
diameter1--and the loose bits should be 
mixed with them in the filling4 ,very   
small interstices will be sufficient to 
allow water to pass freely through1     
while if large stones are used1 with    
large interstices1 there will be danger 
of a washing-in of earth sufficient in  
time to obstruct both the stonework and 
the tile4 ,the smaller the tile1 so long
 as it is sufficient for its purpose1   
the better2 for lengths of five hundred 
feet or less1 an interior diameter of an
 inch and a quarter will be sufficient2 
from this to one thousand feet1 use an  
inch and a half bore4 ,if possible1     
before exceeding this length1 secure an 
outlet for the water in the roadside    
gutter or some other channel of exit4   
,the tile-drain1 at a depth of three    

feet1 will remove all subsoil water from
 under the walk1 and all that may be    
delivered into the loosely filled trench
 at its side4 ,the loose filling of the 
trench should not be carried nearer than
 within six inches of the surface of the
 ground1 and should be covered with fine
 and well-packed earth to prevent the   
entrance of surface-water which would   
soon carry in silt enough to stop its   
action4 ,whatever covering is adopted   
for the walk itself1 it must be of such 
a character as to prevent any thing like
 a free admission of surface-water4     
,concrete will do this perfectly2 and   
either ashes1 or gravel dressed at the  
top with ashes1 if well raked and rolled
 at the outset to a smooth surface1 will
 soon become so bound together as to    
shed pretty nearly all rain falling upon
 it4 ,the difference in cost between a  
walk made in this way1 and one dug out  
for its whole width to a depth of two   
feet1 and filled first with stone and   
then with gravel and a suitable surface 

dressing1 will be very important2 and it
 is safe to say that the cheaper will be
 at least as good and durable as the    
more expensive method4 ,in all          
construction of sidewalks1 whether      
public or private1 regard must be had to
 the surface conformation1 and some     
device must be adopted for preventing   
the flow of water upon the walk from the
 adjoining ground1 and for the easy     
delivery of storm-water falling upon the
 walk itself4   ,,roadways4  ,the great 
expense of ,macadamizing or             
,telfordizing puts these systems almost 
out of the reach of small communities4  
,wherever the original expense can be   
borne1 the subsequent cost of           
maintenance will be so slight1 and the  
result generally will be so             
satisfactory1 as to make it always a    
good investment4 ,the circumstances     
under which these costly forms of       
construction may be adopted will be     
greatly extended if we can overcome the 
prevalent ,american prejudice in favor  

of wide roadways4 ,against wide streets 
there is1 as a rule1 no objection1      
though exceptional narrow and           
well-shaded lanes have a rural charm    
that will always commend them to persons
 of taste4 ,a wide street1 that is1     
broad spaces between fences1 by no means
 implies a broad roadway4 ,all we need  
in the principal thoroughfare of a busy 
village is such a width as will allow of
 the easy passing of vehicles in the    
middle of the road1 and the standing of 
one vehicle at rest at each side4 ,this 
will be accomplished1 even in the       
business street of a village1 by a width
 of roadway of thirty feet4 ,under most 
other circumstances twenty feet of      
roadway will be ample4 ,this will allow 
of the moving of three vehicles side by 
side1 and will give a leeway of six feet
 between two vehicles passing each      
other4  ,on both sides of this roadway1 
except for the necessary sidewalks1 the 
whole space to the fences should be in  
well-kept grass1 which is the cheapest  

to secure1 the most economical to       
maintain1 and the most agreeable to see1
 of all ground covering4 ,it is not     
unusual in country towns to find a width
 of from sixty to eighty feet devoted to
 a muddy1 dusty1 and ill-kept roadway4  
,from one-half to two-thirds of this    
width is waste space1 which must either 
remain an eyesore1 or entail an undue   
cost for maintenance4 ,when both sides  
of the street are occupied by places of 
business1 it may be necessary to provide
 for some occasional driving close to   
the buildings for the delivery of       
merchandise2 but this occasion will     
rarely be so regular as to cause any    
serious damage to grass4 ,if the line of
 hitching-posts is placed within fifteen
 feet of the centre of the roadway on   
each side1 it will be seldom that any   
one will drive over the bordering grass1
 especially if there is1 as there       
generally should be1 a well-defined     
gutter or well-kept grass with a        
curbstone border at each side4  ,in     

considering the width to be given to    
roadways1 it should be understood that  
every form of road is more or less      
costly to make and to keep in order1 and
 that the cost of both items is in      
direct proportion to the width4 ,if to  
the cost of making and grading an       
ordinary roadway sixty feet wide1 we add
 the capital sum whose interest would be
 necessary to keep this width in good   
repair1 we shall have an amount that    
would go far toward the construction and
 maintenance of a road of the very best 
quality only thirty feet wide4          
,furthermore1 while it is impossible to 
estimate such items exactly1 and while  
the amount thus saved cannot be         
controlled for the road-making account1 
the saving in the wear and tear of      
vehicles1 and in the team force needed  
to move heavy loads1 constitutes an     
important argument in favor of the best 
construction4 ,the amount thus saved in 
the short streets of the village1 where 
the principal traffic is over rough     

country roads1 would not be very great1 
but it would enable the road authorities
 of the township to realize the         
advantage of first-rate roads and the   
degree to which the narrowing of the    
roadway cheapens construction4 ,as a    
result1 there would soon be an extension
 of the improvement over the more       
important highways into the country2    
where a well-metalled width of twelve   
feet would accommodate nearly the whole 
traffic1 and where the proper           
application of a cheap system of        
under-drainage would make well-metalled 
roads extremely cheap to maintain4  ,in 
the island of ,jersey1 there are many   
excellent roads only six feet wide4     
,these are provided with frequent little
 bays or turn-outs to allow teams to    
pass each other4 ,although such         
extremely narrow roads are not to be    
recommended1 the difference in comfort  
and economy of teampower between these  
and the average ,american dirt road is  
enormously in their favor4 ,the widest  

roads in ,jersey1 leading from a busy   
town of thirty thousand inhabitants into
 a thickly settled farming region where 
business and pleasure travel is very    
active1 and where excursion cars        
carrying thirty or forty persons are    
constantly passing1 are only twenty-four
 feet wide2 often only of this width    
between the hedge-rows1 the road itself 
being an excellent footpath for its     
whole width4 ,nowhere else in the world 
is the rural charm more perfectly       
developed than in ,jersey1 and no       
element of its great beauty is so       
conspicuous and so constantly           
satisfactory as its narrow and embowered
 lanes and roadways4  ,this1 however1 by
 the way1 and only as a suggestion1 for 
the sake of variety4 ,as a rule1 we may 
at least accept much less width than is 
now usual for our country and village   
roads4 ,wherever it is intended to build
 expensive stone roads1 those having the
 work in charge will naturally employ a 
competent engineer1 or will at least    

appeal to ,prof4 ,gillespie's work on   
road-making1 or to some other authority4
 ,space need not be given here to       
engineering details1 which would require
 a lengthy elucidation4 ,there is1      
however1 a sort of road-making          
materially more costly at the outset    
than that now in vogue1 but much less   
costly in the long-run1 if we consider  
the element of practical value and the  
cost of maintenance4 ,it depends more on
 fundamental principles of construction 
than on special processes of finishing1 
and will be more or less satisfactory   
according to the character of the soil  
and of the covering material available4 
,the great enemy of all roads is        
excessive moisture2 and the chief       
purpose of all methods of improvement is
 to get rid of this1 or to counteract   
its effect4 ,as in the case of          
foot-paths1 wherever the porous         
character of the subsoil1 and the       
absence of higher-lying wet lands1 is   
such that no accumulation of water upon 

or under the roadway need be feared1 the
 greatest difficulty is at once set     
aside4 ,roads lying on such a soil may  
be over-dusty in dry weather4 ,when the 
subsoil is temporarily impervious       
because of its frozen condition1 they   
may become unduly muddy1 or1 when the   
situation is such as to lead hill-water 
upon them1 they may be badly washed2 but
 they are free from the great           
difficulties that beset all roads which 
for a large part of the year are        
underlaid by an over-saturated1 compact 
subsoil4 ,where such natural drainage is
 secured1 no artificial under-drainage  
will be needed4 ,in many more instances1
 all that will be required in the way of
 draining will be to lead away the      
sources of wet-weather springs1 which   
break through the road-bed and cause    
deep sloughs4 ,where incomplete or      
partial artificial under-draining is    
needed1 the need is absolute2 and       
whether we consider the durability of   
the road1 or the degree to which its    

traffic is interfered with by its wet   
condition1 we may be confident that     
every dollar spent in well-directed     
under-draining will be invested to the  
very best advantage4 ,the varying       
conditions of wetness1 and the different
 sources of surplus water1 must be      
regarded in deciding precisely how much 
of this work is needed1 and how it      
should be done4 ,details cannot be fully
 considered here2 but as a general rule 
it may be said1 that where the subsoil  
generally is of an impervious character1
 and where the road is more or less wet 
and weeping after long rains1 a         
continuous system of under-drains is    
required4 ,if the trouble is local1 here
 and there in spots1 and is obviously   
caused by the breaking up of springs    
from the road-bed1 such partial work may
 be adopted as will tap the sources of  
these springs1 and lead their water     
harmlessly away4 ,gisborne1 one of the  
best agricultural writers of ,england1  
put the case tersely and well           

when--objecting to the system of        
circumventing springs--he said1 ,hit him
 straight in the eye1 is as good a maxim
 in draining as in pugilism4 ,it is best
 not to pass up at the side of a spring1
 and so creep around behind it to head  
off its water2 but to drive the drain   
straight through it1 and far enough     
beyond it to tap and lead away at a     
lower level the water which causes it4  
,these drains1 as well as all others    
intended simply to remove subsoil water1
 and not to cut off a weeping stream1   
are best made with common drain-tiles   
laid as before directed1 and covered    
immediately with well-packed earth4     
,water enters an under-drain1 not from  
above1 but from below2 that is to say1  
as water1 from whatever source1 fills   
the subsoil1 it rises therein until it  
reaches the floor of the drain1 when it 
enters and is led away1 just as water   
falling into a cask which stands on end 
flows off at the under side of the      
bung-hole when it reaches its level4    

,even if the cask be filled to the top  
with earth1 the rain falling upon it    
will descend perpendicularly to the     
bottom1 and will flow off at the bung   
only when the soil to that level has    
become saturated4 ,it will descend      
through the soil by the straightest     
course1 and will raise the general      
level4 ,it will not violate the laws of 
gravitation1 and run diagonally toward  
the point of outlet1 as seems to be the 
general supposition when the perplexing 
question1 ,how does water get into the  
drain8 is first considered4 ,when we    
drive a drain through a spring and into 
the water-bearing stratum which feeds   
it1 we simply make it easier for the    
water to escape by the drain than to    
keep on at the higher level1 and break  
out at the surface of the ground4  ,as  
in the case of the sidewalk illustrated 
in ,figure #a1 in cutting off a         
continuous weeping or ooze from higher  
land1 it is best to introduce a vertical
 filling of porous material through     

which the water will descend and enter  
the drain2 but1 excepting this single   
instance1 all that we need to do1 so far
 as subterranean work is concerned1 is  
to furnish an easy and sufficient       
channel for the removal of subsoil      
water4  ,what constitutes a sufficient  
drain is something very much less than  
what is generally supposed4 ,in ordinary
 agricultural drainage1 where the lines 
of tiles are forty feet apart1 a        
well-laid tile an inch and a quarter in 
diameter is sufficient for a length of  
one thousand feet--that is1 it is       
sufficient to remove the water of       
filtration from an acre of land4 ,if    
laid with only an inclination of six    
inches in one hundred feet1 its delivery
 will be so rapid as to amount to more  
than a heavy continuous rain-fall upon  
this area4 ,in road drainage1 the same  
rule would hold true2 but1 as the soil  
offers a certain resistance to the rapid
 descent of water1 it is best to give a 
means of outlet at smaller intervals2   

and for the best work in roads thirty   
feet wide or more1 three drains could be
 used with advantage4 ,in no case1      
however1 need the size of pipes be      
larger than above indicated1 if the form
 of the tiles is true1 and if they are  
well joined together at their ends4     
,tiles of less perfect form had better  
be an inch and a half or even two inches
 in diameter2 but1 as a rule1 they      
should not be of a larger size1 for the 
reason that the amount of water that    
they may be expected to carry will not  
be sufficient to keep them prop erly    
freed from silt unless the flow is      
concentrated within a narrow channel4   
,illustration3 ,,fig4 #b4  ,figure #b   
shows the cross section of a country    
road thirty feet wide1 with three lines 
of tile-drain laid at a depth of about  
three feet below it4 ,except in case of 
necessity1 these drains should have an  
inclination of not less than six inches 
in one hundred feet4 ,there is no       
objection to their having more than this

 wherever the lay of the land permits or
 requires it4 ,they may often have      
considerably less in case of need2 but1 
the smaller the rate of inclination1 the
 greater the care needed in securing a  
true grade4 ,the water of these drains  
should be collected into a single drain1
 and led away at intervals of from five 
hundred to one thousand feet4 ,it may be
 delivered into a roadside gutter1 or   
into a collecting under-drain1 according
 to the requirements of the situation4  
,it is now possible to procure          
drain-tiles at reasonable cost in almost
 all parts of the country2 and these are
 not only very much better than any form
 of stone drain1 but they are also much 
cheaper in construction1--the labor of  
preparing and handling the stone1 and of
 excavating the wider trench that stone 
requires1 amounting to more than the    
cost of the tile1 even with a high      
charge of transportation added4         
,incidentally it is proper to say that  
where tiles cannot be had1 a mass of    

gravel or fine cinders1 six inches wide 
and six inches deep1 placed at the      
bottom of the drain1 and covered with   
well-packed soil1 is preferable even to 
broken stone or any other form of       
channel that would permit of the rapid  
running of water and the washing into   
the drains of even a slight amount of   
silt4  ,the removal of excessive subsoil
 moisture being secured1 attention      
should next be given to the surface of  
the road1 which should be finished with 
the firmest material at hand1--with the 
common earth of the subsoil where       
nothing better can be afforded1--and    
which should be brought to a true grade1
 with a very slight slope from the      
centre to the edge4 ,for a road thirty  
feet wide1 the elevation of the centre  
above the level of the edges should not 
be more than four to six inches1 and the
 grade should be made on a straight line
 rather than on a curve4 ,if the road is
 made as flat as the turning-off of     
surface-water will permit1 it will be   

travelled upon in all its parts2 while  
if it is crowned to a high arch1 as is  
often the case1 it will soon be found   
that the best place to drive is in the  
middle of the road1 and foot-tracks and 
wheel-tracks will soon form slight      
channels or ruts which will lead water  
lengthwise along the road1 and which    
will cause an undue amount of wear and  
washing4 ,a road may be actually flat to
 the eye1 and equally convenient for    
travel at every part of its width1 and  
still have enough lateral slope to cause
 water to run off from it4  ,it is      
especially desirable that no            
surface-water flowing from the roadside 
7above all1 when frost is coming out of 
the ground in the spring7 be permitted  
to run on to the road4 ,this should be  
effectively prevented by the formation  
of sufficient gutters1 with such outlets
 as will prevent ponding at the sides of
 the road4 ,when it is necessary to     
carry the water of the gutters from one 
side of the road to the other1 culverts 

should be provided2 and wherever the    
slope of the road is sufficient to cause
 water to flow along it                 
lengthwise1--that is1 wherever the      
inclination is more than about one in   
fifty1--there should be frequent slight 
depressions from the centre diagonally  
toward the gutters to carry the flow    
away before it can accumulate           
sufficiently to form a washing current4 
,if it can be done without hauling      
additional material1 it is always well  
to raise the road-bed somewhat above the
 level of the adjoining land1 and this  
may usually be accomplished by throwing 
upon it the subsoil of the gutters4 ,in 
no case should surface-soil sods or fine
 road-mud be used for repairs4 ,the most
 serious objection to the absurd system 
of road-mending so common in this       
country lies in the fact that the annual
 repairing is little more than the      
ploughing up and throwing back upon the 
roadway of the soft and unsuitable      
material which has been washed into the 

gutters4  ,what is said above applies   
especially to country roads2 but it is  
appropriate1 so far as it goes1 to the  
better-made and better-kept roads of a  
village4 ,in the case of these latter1  
except where the soil is naturally dry  
and firm1 some attention should be given
 to the improvement of the surface2 and 
it is to be considered whether to adopt 
the expensive process of covering with  
broken stone road-metal1 or to use      
gravel4 ,one or the other of these is   
desirable in all cases where there is   
much tendency to sloppiness in wet      
weather2 but any form of artificial     
covering is so costly that the early    
efforts of the improvement association  
will produce a more telling result if   
applied in other directions4 ,the       
necessary cross-walks may be            
satisfactorily made with coal-ashes4    
,it is even more easy in a village than 
in the country1 to have the grades of   
all roadways so regulated as to shed    
rain-water falling upon them1 and to    

have them so furnished with side gutters
 so as to prevent water from the        
roadside from running on to them4 ,the  
simplest way to effect this1 and the    
neatest way too1 is to make gutters     
outside of the line of the road1 say six
 inches deep and eight feet wide1 these 
being at once sodded or sown with grass 
and grain to give an early protection   
against washing2 made on such a shallow 
curve1 they will afford no obstruction  
to any system of mowing that may be     
adopted1 while their great width will   
give them sufficient capacity to carry  
away the water of considerable storms4  
,the work of construction having been   
duly attended to1 it is no less         
important to provide for regular and    
constant care4 ,any rutting that comes  
of heavy traffic in bad weather should  
be obliterated either by raking1 or1    
better still1 by filling the ruts with  
gravel or ashes4 ,if such work is       
attended to immediately on the occasion 
for it arising1 the amount of labor     

required will be very slight2 for it is 
especially true with reference to roads1
 that a stitch in time saves nine4 ,if  
the filling of ruts and wheel-tracks be 
done in time1 the serious damage that   
comes from guttering flows of water     
lengthwise along the road may be almost 
entirely avoided4  ,the mere cleaning   
work of both the roadway and roadside   
grass spaces1 it will be easy to induce 
children to perform for slight rewards  
and encouragement4 ,the daily removal of
 bits of paper and other rubbish will   
have an excellent effect on the general 
appearance of the village4 ,in the      
autumn the removal of the fallen leaves 
will call for something more than       
children's work2 but ordinarily this    
source of cheap labor will be found     
sufficient if properly directed4        
,,public ,,water ,,supply4  ,as a field 
for encouragement1 rather than as an    
object for the expenditure of the       
association's funds1 the furnishing of  
an ample supply of water is entitled to 

very early consideration4 ,not only is  
the question of public health very      
seriously involved in the water problem2
 but as a mere beautifying element an   
abundance of water1 to be obtained      
without labor1 will have a very telling 
effect by the facility it gives for     
preserving the fresh appearance of lawns
 and shrubbery1 and for the cultivation 
of flowers and vines4  ,regarded from   
the horticulturist's point of view1 the 
climate of pretty nearly the whole of   
this country is simply detestable4 ,we  
may arrange to withstand very well the  
severity of our northern winters2 we    
expect an entire shutting-up of all     
garden industries1 and long cold seasons
 are an accustomed matter of necessity3 
but we have never yet learned to accept 
with patience the almost annual         
destruction of our lawns and gardens and
 flower-beds by scathing drought4 ,no   
public water supply available for an    
ordinary village would suffice to       
overcome the effects of a dry season    

over the whole of even a small          
homestead2 but we may hope to secure    
enough to keep one or two small         
sprinklers flowing steadily through the 
hot months1 and so keep a little grass  
measurably green1 and preserve a        
semblance of life and beauty in         
flower-beds and delicate shrubbery4 ,it 
is very rarely that it will be possible 
to supply water enough in a whole week  
to equal in its effect a half-hour's    
rain2 but the difference between towns  
where even the small amount of water is 
available for the garden and those which
 are hopelessly given over to drought   
shows how much may be accomplished in   
this direction even with limited means4 
,as in the case of road-making in any   
thing like a complete and thorough      
manner1 the providing of a water supply 
must necessarily be directed by         
professional advice4 ,although the      
simpler principles of hydraulics are    
sufficiently understood1 and although it
 would be quite within the ability of a 

number of the more intelligent men of   
any village to secure and distribute a  
satisfactory amount of water1 the cost  
of doing such work in an experimental   
way by persons unaccustomed to its      
details1 as compared with the cost of   
doing it under the direction of an      
engineer whose natural judgment and     
capacity are supplemented by experience 
and skill1 would be without doubt far   
beyond the fee demanded for his         
services4 ,in this case1 as in many     
others connected with public and private
 works1 it is always bad economy to save
 the cost of proper knowledge4 ,very    
likely--perhaps indeed very             
generally--the actual performance of the
 work1 the buying and laying of the     
pipe1 and all that1 can be as cheaply   
done under home direction as under that 
of a public contractor2 but the making  
of the plans--the deciding upon the     
source of the supply1 upon the means for
 securing a sufficient head1 the sizes  
of the pipes1 the location and          

construction of fire-plugs1 and all the 
minor details of the work--will be more 
or less economical1 according to the    
skill1 experience1 and capacity of the  
person who directs it4  ,the sources    
from which water may be obtained are    
various4 ,often enough water of the best
 quality may be procured by driven1 dug1
 or artesian wells2 but1 whenever this  
course is adopted1 the wells should be  
located far enough away from the        
village1 or on land sufficiently high1  
to make it impossible that there shall  
be any fouling of the water-bearing     
strata by the filtration from           
barn-yards1 privy-vaults1 or cesspools4 
,generally1 water so secured will have  
to be raised to an elevated reservoir by
 some mechanical force4 ,if the demand  
is to be a large one1 and if the        
community can afford the cost1 the most 
reliable plan will be to use steam-power
 for pumping2 but in smaller places1 and
 where economy is a great object1       
wind-power may serve an excellent       

purpose4  ,if a stream of pure water is 
available at a sufficient height1 it may
 be led directly to the reservoir1 or   
its current may be used to drive a      
water-wheel sufficient to do the        
pumping4 ,in a majority of cases there  
will be found at no great distance a    
stream capable of supplying the water   
needed throughout the dryest season of  
the year1 but not entirely free from    
organic impurities4 ,in such cases it is
 often feasible1 by excavating a        
filtering sump or pump-well at a little 
distance from the side of the stream1   
and at a sufficient depth below the     
level of its bed to secure a supply     
tolerably purified by filtration through
 the intervening earth4 ,the distance at
 which this sump should be placed from  
the bed of the stream will depend on the
 character of the soil4 ,the more porous
 this is1 the greater should the        
distance be4 ,this question as to the   
source from which the water is to be    
taken is one which1 more than any other1

 calls for experienced judgment4        
,frequently the conformation of the     
surrounding country is such that1 even  
where there is no constant stream1 it is
 possible by the construction of dams to
 pond an amount of water1 to be         
furnished by surface washing1 sufficient
 to supply the demands of the longest   
drought4 ,in this case1 as in all others
 where reservoirs are used1 it is       
important to have a good depth of water1
 and not to allow1 even toward the      
edges1 any considerable shallow area4   
,so far as possible1 the depth should be
 everywhere great enough to prevent     
vegetation1 and in all the shallower    
parts the surface soil should be        
entirely removed4 ,as a rule1 there     
should be a depth of at least fifteen   
feet of water1 except near the very     
edges of the pond1 and as much more than
 this as circumstances will allow4  ,the
 distribution of water for private use  
is a simple question of construction2   
but1 as a matter of taste1 too vehement 

a protest cannot be entered against the 
common misconception as to what is      
desirable in the way of public          
fountains4 ,an instance in point is     
furnished by the public                 
drinking-fountain in ,newport4 ,some    
years ago there stood at the foot of the
 ,parade a grand old stone bowl1 hewn   
out of a solid block of granite1 and    
filled by a pipe leading from a copious 
spring4 ,this was a good1 sensible1     
substantial drinking-trough1 perfectly  
adapted to its use1 unpretending and    
handsome4 ,later1 a public-spirited     
gentleman1 desiring to leave a monument 
of his regard for the city1 gave a      
considerable sum to be used in providing
 a suitable drinking-fountain at this   
point4 ,those who had the control of the
 fund lacked either the good taste or   
the courage to refuse to expend it4 ,the
 result is that this granite            
horse-basin--one of the best of its     
sort--has been removed to an obscure    
position2 and there has been erected in 

its place a wretched cast-iron          
combination of bad architecture and bad 
statuary1 such as form a conspicuous    
defacement of the public squares in     
,philadelphia1 where they serve the     
double purpose of furnishing water to   
the people1 and advertising a cheap     
clothing establishment4 ,the one        
compensation for the violation of good  
taste inseparable from these            
constructions is to be found in the fact
 that they must1 sooner or later1 lead  
the public to realize the absolute      
unfitness of cast iron for monumental   
and decorative uses4 ,with the artistic 
influences which are now so active in   
the instruction of the ,american people1
 it is not perhaps unreasonable to look 
forward to the day when all of these    
piles of pot-metal shall be relegated to
 the scrap-heap1 and when less offensive
 fountains shall take their place4 ,we  
may even hope to see the iron statue and
 its stove-like support which supplies  
water to the horses of ,newport         

condemned to the foundry1 and its solid 
old predecessor restored to the position
 which it ornamented for so many years4 
,a wide margin may be allowed for the   
exercise of taste in the arrangement of 
village fountains2 and where private    
munificence enables the expenditure of a
 considerable sum1 a good amount of     
exterior decoration may be admissible3  
but it should always be borne in mind   
that so much of the outlay as is needed 
for the purpose should go to secure a   
good artistic design4 ,especially should
 the use of cast iron be avoided1 as    
being from every point of view1 and     
under all circumstances1 whether in the 
shape of cast-iron dogs or deer1 or     
attempts at the divine human form1      
absolutely and entirely inadmissible for
 artistic uses4 ,better a dug-out log   
horse-trough1 overflowing through a     
notch in its side1 as an ornament to the
 best-kept village green1 than the most 
elaborate pitcher-spilling nymph that   
was ever cast in an iron-foundry4 ,so   

far as the mere construction work of    
public drinking-fountains and           
horse-troughs is concerned1 not much    
need be said except in connection with  
the overflow4 ,in cold climates1 there  
is apt to be from all such structures a 
spilling of water which covers the      
ground for some distance with ice4 ,this
 may be avoided by carrying the overflow
 by a vertical pipe descending through  
the body of the water by some           
well-protected channel directly into a  
drain in the ground1 at a depth beyond  
the direct action of frosts4 ,if the    
stream is constant1 this depth need be  
nothing like that to which frost        
penetrates into the soil1--for the      
constant movement of the water will     
prevent its freezing1 even if covered   
only a foot deep1 though to something   
more than this depth it will be         
desirable to have the metal pipe        
enclosed in a larger pipe of            
earthenware1 giving a space of enclosed 
air4         99       99       99       

99       99  ,where there is no public  
supply of water1 it is better in most   
cases 7considering the nearness of wells
 in villages to cesspools and           
privy-vaults71 to depend entirely upon  
cisterns4 ,in our climate1 where rain is
 abundant during a considerable portion 
of the year1 the water falling upon the 
roof of any house1 if properly collected
 and stored1 is ample for the whole     
supply of the family which that roof    
shelters4 ,this water as it falls is    
ordinarily free from any impurity that  
can affect its taste1 and from every    
source of serious fouling2 though1 after
 a long-continued drought1 it is well to
 divert and discharge upon the surface  
of the ground the first ten minutes'    
flow of a shower1 so that the impurities
 of the air and the dust of the roof may
 first be removed4 ,after this first    
dash1 lead to the cistern all that      
follows4 ,even with this precaution1 the
 water will be more agreeable for use if
 filtered4 ,there are numerous systems  

for making filters in cisterns1 but no  
other is so simple nor so durable and   
satisfactory as the separation of that  
part of the cistern from which the      
suction-pipe leads by a wall of brick   
and cement4 ,it is simply necessary to  
build a wall of brick set on edge 7two  
and a half inches thick71 so as to      
include about one-quarter of the area of
 the bottom1 sloping it back so as to   
terminate against the side of the       
cistern at a height of from four to six 
feet4 ,this wall should be so well      
cemented at its joints that water can   
only pass through the material of brick1
 and for strength its form should be    
slightly bulging4 ,a wall of this sort1 
measuring say six feet at its base1 and 
rising to a height of six feet at its   
highest point1 will transmit an amount  
of water sufficient to supply the demand
 of the most constant pumping that any  
domestic use can require4   ,,squares   
,,and ,,public ,,spaces4  ,as a rule1   
the open spaces in a country village are

 subject to no other criticism than that
 of neglect2 but the exceptions are not 
rare where an attempt at improvement has
 resulted in a sort of cemetery look    
that gives any thing but a cheerful1    
pleasure-ground aspect4  ,there is not  
much danger that persons who are        
enthusiastic for the improvement of the 
town in which they live will err on the 
side of too great simplicity4 ,the      
public squares and parks of large and   
wealthy cities are regulated and        
maintained at great cost and under      
skilful and artistic management2 and    
they cannot fail to strike country      
visitors as being in all ways desirable4
 ,so indeed they are4 ,they are a chief 
element of the city's beauty1 and1 from 
an aesthetic point of view1 their       
influence is the best to which its      
people are subjected4 ,but their beauty 
and their aesthetic influence are both  
the result of a well-directed           
expenditure of large sums of money4 ,it 
is quite natural that an enriched       

manufacturer or merchant1 proud of his  
native village1 should be ambitious to  
perpetuate the memory of his benefaction
 by providing for some corresponding    
decoration of its public green1 and that
 he should attempt to reproduce there1  
on the smaller scale proportionate to   
the circumstances1 the sort of          
magnificence that he has seen in the    
city park4 ,if left to his own sweet    
will1--as he often is if he is willing  
to spend money for the public           
benefit1--he will1 unless a rich man of 
the rarer sort1 succeed only in         
producing a conspicuous imitation4  ,a  
park-railing of artistically-worked     
wrought-iron will be represented by a   
cast-iron substitute of much more       
elaborate device2 and there will        
probably be piled on1 here and there1 an
 amount of cheap ornamentation which at 
the first glance will have a certain    
imposing effect4 ,in the matter of      
planting there may be an amount and     
variety of foreign shrubbery and        

sub-tropical plants1 which1 under proper
 care1 would be of great value and      
beauty1 but which1 with the neglect to  
which they are doomed in their village  
home1 are quite certain to abort4 ,in   
fact1 we may expect to see1 what indeed 
we may now see1 in painful degree1 in   
many of our smaller towns1 a halting    
attempt at the outside show of the city 
park1 which1 in the absence of those    
elements of artistic selection and      
appropriateness to the conditions which 
are to prevail1 develop1 as time goes   
on1 into an ignominious failure4  ,the  
trouble is1 that1 in all expenditures of
 this sort1 we are apt to begin at the  
wrong end4 ,in the making of a park1    
every step that is taken1 whether the   
park be large or small1 is a costly one2
 and1 if taken in their reverse order1  
every step is a wasted one4 ,the chief  
reason why the final decoration of a    
city park is so satisfactory is that it 
is only the crowning work of many       
processes which have had the best and   

most careful attention from the outset4 
,the wrought-iron grille1 the           
architectural fountain1 the bronze      
statue1 the delicate trees and          
shrubbery1 and the smoothly-finished    
walks and drives1 depend for their      
success upon a vast amount of costly    
fundamental work1 and a provision for   
constant skilful care1 which have cost a
 deal of money1 and which look to a     
large permanent outlay4 ,the elaborate  
fence must stand on no unstable         
foundation2 the fountain must be only   
the ornamental central point of artistic
 and well-kept lawns and approaches2 the
 statue must stand amid appropriate     
surroundings2 and all but the simpler   
native vegetation must have its suitable
 soil1 and be insured its needed        
protection and care at all seasons4 ,the
 degree to which these more ornamental  
features may be given to the village    
green with any hope of satisfaction will
 depend almost entirely upon the        
thoroughness with which it has been     

prepared to receive them4 ,could the    
enthusiastic members of the improvement 
association be brought face to face with
 the cost that is needed for quite      
hidden fundamental work in order to     
prepare their green for the more        
elaborate artistic decoration1 they     
would be deterred at the outset from    
attempting any thing so ambitious4      
,could they know the cost of the mere   
work of grading and subsoil cultivation1
 under-draining1 manuring1 laying the   
deep foundation for foot-paths1 and     
securing that perfect growth of grass   
without which all park-like ornament is 
robbed of half its value1 they would set
 their faces resolutely against all     
propositions on the part of             
public-spirited citizens to veneer their
 unprepared grounds with misplaced      
exterior adornment4  ,if money enough   
can be provided to do the work          
thoroughly well from its very           
foundation1 then of course nothing more 
is needed than that its direction be    

placed in accomplished hands2 but unless
 this is fully assured1 if--as is nearly
 always the case1--economy is the first 
thing to be considered1 then the rule of
 action is fully stated in two words1   
simplicity and thoroughness4  ,avoid all
 fantastic ornament1 and all decoration 
of every sort1 that would be appropriate
 only to work of a more complete and    
substantial character4 ,let whatever is 
done be done in the most thorough way4  
,if the ability is only enough to secure
 good grass1 then do every thing that is
 necessary to furnish the best          
conditions for the growth of grass1 make
 suitable provision for its care1 and   
attempt nothing further4 ,good lawn-like
 grass surfaces1 crossed only by        
foot-worn pathways over the turf1 will  
be more beautiful and more satisfactory 
than will poor grass and cheaply made   
and ill-kept walks4  ,if something more 
than securing the best grass is         
possible1 then let the next expenditure 
be in the direction of paths1 applying  

to the construction of these the        
principles set forth in what has        
hitherto been said about sidewalks4 ,in 
the case of level walks1 with imperfect 
means of drainage1 it is often desirable
 to secure the better foundation that is
 given by filling in to the depth of a  
foot or more with small stone4          
99       99       99       99       99  
,whatever may be the natural character  
of the soil1 unless always well drained 
by a porous subsoil1 the first step     
toward establishing a good lawn is to   
secure perfect underdrainage4 ,establish
 a good outlet at the depth of three and
 a half or four feet below the surface  
at the lowest point of the area to be   
drained1 and then1 selecting the        
necessary lines for main drains1 lay out
 parallel lines 7thirty feet apart at a 
depth of three and a half feet1 or forty
 feet apart at a depth of four feet7 to 
include the whole area1 and on these    
lines lay well-constructed drains of    
small open-jointed tiles4 ,cover these  

tiles with the most compact earth that  
has been excavated1 and1 after filling  
to a depth of one foot1 tramp or ram    
this earth tightly4 ,then fill the rest 
of the trench1 heaping over the lines   
any excess of material that may need the
 settling effect of heavy rains to work 
it into place4  ,the next step is to    
reverse or thoroughly mix the whole soil
 to a depth of at least fifteen inches4 
,this work can be completely done only  
with the aid of hand-shovelling1 but the
 aid of the plough will greatly         
facilitate it4 ,its purpose is to secure
 such an admixture of the organic matter
 of the surface soil with the more      
compact material of the subsoil as will 
make it sufficiently porous and fertile 
for the easy penetration of roots4 ,it  
is best that this work should be done in
 autumn2 and1 if the land is level1 that
 the freshly raised subsoil should be   
left exposed in its rough and lumpy     
condition--without harrowing--to the    
frosts of winter4 ,if washing is to be  

apprehended1 then sow the ground thickly
 with rye1 harrowing in the seed only   
roughly4 ,if the seed is sown early     
enough1 the growth will be sufficient to
 protect the surface from washing4      
,during the winter1 let the whole       
surface be heavily covered with         
stable-manure1--the more heavily the    
better1 as there is no limit to the     
amount of coarse manure that may with   
advantage be used for the establishment 
of permanent grass4 ,in the spring1 as  
soon as the ground is dry enough to work
 easily1 plough in the manure with as   
shallow furrows as will suffice to cover
 the most of it2 then harrow repeatedly1
 bringing the surface to as true a grade
 as possible1 and sow it heavily with a 
mixture of ,rhode ,island bent grass1   
,kentucky blue grass1 and white clover4 
,as soon as the seed is well sprouted1  
showing green over the whole ground1    
roll the area repeatedly and thoroughly 
until it is as smooth and hard as it is 
possible to make it4 ,as soon as the    

grass has attained the height of three  
inches1 let it be cut with a lawn-mower1
 and let the cutting be repeated at     
least weekly throughout the season of   
rapid growth1 and as often as necessary 
until the end of autumn4  ,if paths are 
to be made1 it will simplify matters to 
make them after the grass has become    
well established1 supposing only a good 
surface footway of ashes or concrete to 
be needed2 for the small amount of      
excavation necessary under either of    
these systems may be scattered over the 
grass spaces without injury4 ,but if the
 more thorough system is adopted of     
underlaying the walk with a foot or more
 of stones1 then the work1 except the   
final dressing of gravel or ashes1      
should be done in the autumn1 or1 in any
 case1 before the final preparation of  
the soil for seeding4         99        
99       99       99       99           
,concerning trees and ornamental        
shrubbery for parks and open spaces1 it 
is not possible to give detailed        

directions here1 beyond recommending1 as
 in the case of roadside plantations1   
that1 unless the work is to remain      
permanently in the charge of an         
experienced gardener1 with the necessary
 appliances for the care and protection 
of the more delicate specimens1 the     
arrangement and the selection should be 
confined to the more hardy and vigorous 
trees and shrubs which experience has   
shown to be adapted to the climate and  
soil of the locality4  ,for roadsides1  
and largely in parks and village greens1
 the world offers no tree that can      
compare in dignity and grace with the   
broad-spreading ,american elm2 though1  
for the sake of variety1 and for the    
sake of an earlier effect1 many other   
trees may be added4     ,,village       
,,sanitary ,,work4   ,it is a recently  
recognized but an old and universal     
truth1 that human life involves the     
production of refuse matters1 which1    
unless proper safeguards are taken1 are 
sure to become a source of disease and  

death4 ,the danger is not confined alone
 nor chiefly to that element of         
household waste which is most manifestly
 offensive1 but in almost equal degree  
to all manner of organic refuse4 ,it is 
true that faecal matters are often      
accompanied by the inciting agent of the
 propagation of infectious diseases4    
,for convenience1 and as indicating the 
more probable means for disseminating   
infection1 we may call this agent germs4
 ,it has not yet been demonstrated with 
scientific completeness that a disease  
is spread by living germs whose growth  
in a new body produces a corresponding  
disorder2 but all that is known of the  
circumstances of infection1 and of the  
means for preventing it1 may be fully   
explained by this theory4 ,typhoid      
fever1 cholera1 epidemic diarrhoea1 and 
some other prevalent diseases1 are      
presumed by the germ theory to be       
chiefly1 if not entirely1 propagated by 
germs thrown off by a diseased body4 ,so
 far as these ailments are concerned1   

there is therefore a very serious       
element of danger added in the case of  
faeces to the other evil effects which  
are produced by an improper disposal of 
any refuse organic matter4 ,that any one
 or all of these diseases can originate 
from the decomposition1 under certain   
circumstances of faecal matters1 is not 
clearly determined4 ,there is1 however1 
good reason for believing that one      
common effect of the gases arising from 
improperly treated matters of this kind 
is to debilitate the human system1 and  
so to create a disposition to receive   
contagion1 or to succumb to minor       
diseases which are not contagious4  ,the
 same debilitating effect and the same  
injurious influences often result from  
the neglect of other organic wastes4    
,the refuse of the kitchen sink is free 
from faecal matter2 but it contains1 in 
a greater or less degree1 precisely the 
kind of organic material which has gone 
to make up the more offensive substance4
 ,if its final disposition is such as to

 contaminate the water that we drink or 
the air that we breathe with the        
products of their decay1 the danger to  
life is hardly less than that from the  
decomposition of faecal accumulations4  
,it is proposed now to set forth1 in the
 simplest way and without much          
discussion of principles 7which may be  
studied elsewhere71 the methods and     
processes by which village households   
and communities may be protected against
 the influences that come from an excess
 of soil-moisture1 from damp walls1 and 
from imperfect removal or improper      
disposal of organic filth4  ,we will    
assume that a village has a water supply
 sufficient to admit of the use of      
water-closets in all houses1 and to     
furnish a good flushing for kitchen     
sinks1 c4 ,a necessary complement of    
this work--indeed1 it should properly   
precede it--is the establishment of a   
system of sewers by which all of this   
liquid outflow may be carried safely    
away4 ,it would be out of the question  

in a small or scattered community1      
especially where roadways are unpaved1  
to establish any system which should    
include in its working the removal of   
surface water4 ,the moment we undertake 
to make sewers of sufficient capacity to
 carry away the storm water of large    
districts1 then we enormously increase  
the scale and cost of the work4  ,so far
 as the removal of house sewage alone is
 concerned1 the work need by no means be
 very costly4 ,if a tolerable           
inclination can be given to the line of 
sewers1--say a fall of one in two       
hundred1--a six-inch pipe will have a   
capacity quite up to the requirements of
 a village of two thousand inhabitants  
using one hundred gallons of water per  
day per head4 ,it will1 however1 be safe
 to use a pipe of this size only when it
 is true in form and carefully laid1 so 
that there shall be no retarding of the 
flow at the joints from the intrusion of
 mortar1 or any other form of           
irregularity4 ,unless the joints are    

wiped quite smooth1 the roughness       
remaining will serve as a nucleus for   
the accumulation of hair1 shreds of     
cloth1 and other matters which will hold
 silt and grease1 and form in time a    
serious obstruction4 ,nothing smaller   
than six-inch pipe should be adopted for
 a street sewer4 ,unless the work is to 
be most carefully done1 for all but the 
branch lines1 for a population of five  
thousand1 or less according to the fall 
of the sewer1 it will be safer to use   
eight-inch pipes4 ,these pipes must be  
laid with great accuracy as to grade and
 direction4 ,all corners should be      
turned with curves of large radius and  
regular sweep1 and with an additional   
fall to compensate for the increased    
resistance of curves4 ,the weight of the
 pipe should not be supported upon the  
sockets 7see ,figure #c71 partly as a   
question of strength1 and partly because
 any irregularity of form or thickness  
of the socket would change the          
inclination of the sewer4 ,the bottom of

 the trench being brought exactly to the
 required grade1 let there be dug out a 
depression greater than the projection  
of the socket1 the pipe resting upon its
 finished bottom for its whole length4  
7,see ,figure #d47 ,too much care cannot
 be given to the thorough filling with  
cement of the space between the socket  
and the pipe inserted into it2 the whole
 circle being well flushed and wiped1 so
 that there may be no possibility of    
leakage4  ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #c      
,,pipes ,,resting ,,on ,,their          
,,shoulders4  ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #d4 
,,pipes ,,resting ,,on ,,their ,,full   
,,length4  ,the objection to leakage is 
twofold3 sewage matters escaping into   
the soil might contaminate wells and    
springs2 and it would also rob the flow 
through the pipes of water needed to    
carry forward the more solid contents4  
,the continued efficiency of these small
 drains for carrying away the solid or  
semi-solid outflow of the house is      
dependent very largely upon the presence

 of sufficient water to create a        
scouring current4 ,while eight-inch     
pipes are admissible as a safeguard     
against imperfect laying1 they are      
liable to the grave objection1 that1    
where the service to be performed is    
greatly less than their capacity1 the   
stream flowing through them will not be 
sufficiently concentrated to carry      
forward the more solid parts of the     
sewage4 ,up to the limit of their       
capacity1 six-inch pipes properly laid  
are greatly to be preferred1 as insuring
 a deeper stream which will more        
generally attain the velocity of three  
feet per second1 needed to move the     
heavier constituents of the sewage4 ,the
 difference in cost between six-inch and
 eight-inch pipes will be sufficient to 
cover any extra cost of the most careful
 workmanship4 ,however much attention   
may be given to the cementing of the    
joints1 it will be impossible to prevent
 the running into the pipes of a certain
 amount of mortar2 and the workman      

should have a swab or a disk of ,india  
rubber of the exact size of the bore of 
the pipe1 with a short handle attached  
to its middle1 to draw forward as each  
joint is finished1 and so scrape away   
any excess of mortar before it hardens4 
,wherever it is1 or may probably become1
 necessary to attach a house-drain or   
land-drain1 there should be used a      
length of pipe having a side branch1    
oblique to the direction of the flow1 to
 receive such connection4 ,the location 
of these branches should be accurately  
indicated on the plan2 and they should  
be closed with a flat stone or a bit of 
slate1 well cemented in place4  ,it will
 at times be necessary to use larger    
conduits than even an eight-inch pipe4  
,up to a diameter of fifteen inches1 it 
is cheapest to use pipes1 but for       
eighteen inches or more1 brick-work is  
cheaper2 and at that size--a            
considerable regular flow of water being
 insured--the slight roughness of       
brick-work offers no serious objection4 

,the use of oval or egg-shaped sewers   
will rarely be necessary under the      
circumstances that we are considering2  
but there may be exceptional conditions 
where the covering-in of a brook1 or    
storm-water course1 cannot be avoided2  
and in such cases the volume of water   
may vary so greatly that there will at  
times be a mere thread of a stream1 and 
at times a torrent4 ,here the oval form 
is the best1 as concentrating a small   
flow within a narrow and deep channel1  
and still giving the capacity needed for
 exceptionally large volumes4 ,all      
bricks used for sewers1 man-holes1 c41  
should be of the very hardest quality1  
and true in form4 ,the general rule is  
to be kept in mind1 that the thickness  
of the wall of a brick sewer should not 
be less than one-ninth of the inner     
diameter2 that is to say1 that up to a  
diameter of three feet the thickness of 
the wall should equal the width of a    
brick1--four inches4 ,this applies to   
circular sewers only3 the oval form1    

being less strong1 calls for a wall of a
 thickness equal to one-eighth of the   
largest diameter4  ,connecting drains   
leading from houses to the sewer are to 
be made at private cost2 but they should
 be made in accordance with plans       
furnished by the public authority1 and  
by a workman acceptable to that         
authority4  ,the householder might be   
permitted to take the responsibility of 
the finishing of his drain1 but for the 
fact that the working of the public     
sewer calls for the largest amount of   
water in proportion to the amount of    
solid matters that it is possible to    
secure1 and thus makes it imperative    
that this drain should be absolutely    
tight1 so that the liquid parts of the  
house outflow shall not trickle away    
through its joints1 leaving only the    
more solid parts to flow into the public
 sewer4  ,properly graded and smoothly  
jointed1 a four-inch pipe will carry    
more water than even the largest        
boarding-house or country hotel is      

likely to discharge4 ,there is1 however1
 a tendency in all house-drains to      
become filled in the early part of their
 course by the accumulation of grease   
and solid matters caught in the grease4 
,where no form of grease-trap is used1  
there is a certain argument in favor of 
the use of six-inch pipes for the upper 
part of house-drains4 ,the use of a     
grease-trap1 however1 should always be  
insisted upon2 and with its aid these   
obstructing matters will be retained1   
and the outflow may be perfectly carried
 by a four-inch pipe4  ,so far as the   
public sewer is concerned1 it makes     
little difference what is the size of   
the house connection drain through the  
greater part of its course2 but the     
junction with the sewer should1 under no
 circumstances1 where six-inch          
sewer-pipes are adopted1 be more than   
four inches4 ,i should even insist on   
four-inch connections with an eight-inch
 sewer4 ,through neglect1 or by reason  
of improper management1 many kinds of   

rubbish find their way into             
house-drains2 and a four-inch opening   
will admit as many of these into the    
sewer as it will be able to carry away4 
,if1 by reason of bad construction or   
neglect1 an obstruction is to be caused 
at any point1 it should be in the drain1
 which the person responsible for it    
must cleanse or repair4  ,the           
grease-trap referred to above may be any
 form of reservoir which will retain the
 flow from the kitchen sink until it has
 time to cool1 when its grease will be  
solidified1 and will float at the       
surface4 ,the outlet from this trap     
should be at such a distance below the  
surface of the water1 that there will be
 no danger of its floating matter       
passing in with the discharge4 ,a very  
simple device for this purpose is shown 
in ,figure #e4 ,from a trap of this sort
 the flow is constant whenever additions
 are made to its contents4              
,illustration3 ,,fig4                   
#e4--;,,grease-,,trap4 ,i1 ,inlet2 ,v1  

ventilator2 ,o1 outlet4  ,illustration3 
,,fig4 #f4--;,,field',s ,,flush-,,tank4 
,a1 ,receiver2 ,b1 grating2 ,c1         
ventilator2 ,d1 siphon2 ,f1 entrance to 
drain2 ,i1 delivery from sink4  ,figure 
#f shows the invention of an ,english   
engineer1 ,mr4 ,rogers ,field1 which has
 the effect of retaining all of the     
outflow from the kitchen sink until it  
is entirely filled1--say thirty gallons4
 ,when filled1 any sudden addition of a 
few quarts of water1 as from the        
emptying of a dish-pan1 brings into     
action a siphon whose entrance is near  
the bottom of the tank2 and this siphon 
rapidly discharges all of the contents  
above its mouth in a flow having        
sufficient force to carry forward not   
only any solid matters which it may     
contain1 but also any ordinary          
obstructing accumulations in the drain  
below4 ,the soil-pipe1 carrying the     
discharge of water-closets1 should not  
be delivered into the flush-tank1 but at
 a point farther down the drain1 so that

 any solid matter it may deposit shall  
be swept forward by the next action of  
the flush-tank4 ,the more often the     
flush-tank is filled1 and the greater   
the proportion of its water to its      
impurities1 the more efficient will be  
its action4 ,therefore the slop closet  
waste leading from the upper story1 and 
even the outlet pipes of bathing-tubs1  
may with advantage be delivered into it4
  ,although the flush-tank may receive  
no faecal matter1 and even though the   
housemaid's sink may not deliver into   
it1 it will contain in the discharge    
from the kitchen alone an amount of     
organic matter which will produce       
offensive and dangerous gases by its    
decomposition4 ,to provide for the safe 
removal of these gases1 a ventilating   
pipe should be carried up to some point 
not near to any window or chimney-top4  
,from the time the sewers are ready for 
service no accumulation of faecal matter
 or other organic household waste should
 be allowed to remain in the village4   

,all old vaults and cesspools should be 
filled with earth1 and disinfected by   
the admixture of lime with the upper    
layers of the filling4 ,the use of      
water-closets in all houses should be   
made imperative2 and the construction   
and arrangement of soil-pipes and of all
 outlets should be regulated by the     
health authorities4  ,it is not worth   
while here to discuss the details of the
 construction of water-closets and other
 interior plumbing work1 except with    
reference to soil-pipes and such drains 
as may deliver the outflow of soil-pipes
 to the public sewer4 ,the soil-pipe    
should be of cast iron1 carefully       
jointed with lead1 not less than four   
inches in diameter1 and carried by the  
straightest course possible up through  
the roof and generally higher than the  
ridge-pole4 ,its open top must not be   
near any window1 and if within ten feet 
of a chimney it should be at least one  
foot below the level of the top of that 
chimney4 ,there should be no trap in the

 soil-pipe1 and no trap in a private    
drain between the outlet of the         
soil-pipe and the sewer4 ,the reasons   
for this rule are twofold3--  #a4 ,no   
matter what amount of water may be used 
for flushing out the soil-pipe1 its     
sides will always be more or less coated
 with organic filth2 and1 however slight
 this coating1 there will be a certain  
amount of decomposition4 ,the           
decomposition of all such matters must  
be rapid and complete1 not slow and     
partial4 ,a necessary condition of      
complete destructive decomposition is an
 abundance of atmospheric air to supply 
the oxygen which complete decomposition 
demands4 ,if the soil-pipe is closed at 
its top1 or if it is obstructed by a    
trap in the lower part of its course1   
there can be no such circulation of air 
as safety requires4  ,if there is an    
opportunity for the free admission of   
air from the well-ventilated sewer to   
feed the upward current almost          
constantly prevailing in a soil-pipe    

open at both ends1 the gases resulting  
from the decomposition will be of a     
different and less injurious character  
than where the air is confined1--and by 
the mere volume of air passing through  
the pipe they will be so diluted that   
even were they originally poisonous     
their power for harm will be lessened4  
,the gases formed by the decomposition  
of organic matter in the sewer itself1  
or in the soil-pipe1 have a certain     
expansive force which is greatly        
increased by the elevation of           
temperature1 caused1 for example1 by the
 discharge of hot water into the pipe or
 sewer4 ,if the soil-pipe is open at its
 upper end this expansion will be at    
once relieved2 but if the top of the    
pipe be closed there will always be     
danger of the forcing of the feeble     
barrier offered by the ordinary         
water-seal trap of a branch pipe leading
 from a wash-basin or sink4 ,then1 too1 
the sealing-water of the trap readily   
absorbs any foul gases presented at its 

outer end1 toward the soil-pipe1 and    
gives it off in an unchanged condition  
at the inner or house end4 ,such traps  
retard1 but do not prevent1 the entrance
 of sewer gases into the house4         
,water-seal traps which are unused for  
any considerable time are emptied by    
evaporation1 and thus open a channel    
through which the air of the soil-pipe  
may find its way into the house4  ,it is
 usual in modern plumbing to relieve the
 pressure of gas in the soil-pipe by    
what is called a stench-pipe4 ,this is a
 pipe from one to two inches in         
diameter1 leading from the highest point
 of the soil-pipe to the outside of the 
roof1 where it is bent over to prevent  
the entrance of foreign matter1 or is   
closed at the top and perforated with   
holes to allow the gas to escape4 ,this 
small stench-pipe is inadequate for the 
necessary work4 ,it is very important   
that there be the freest possible       
channel for the movement of air2 and    
nothing will suffice for this save the  

continuing of the pipe1 at its full     
size1 to its very outlet4 ,indeed1      
angles and bends in a pipe by increasing
 friction form a serious obstruction4   
,the arrangement of the soil-pipe here  
indicated1 although excellent and       
efficient1 is susceptible of further    
improvement by the use of a ventilating 
cowl or hood at its top4 ,there are many
 forms of such cowls in use which are   
effective whenever there is a sufficient
 current of wind2 but most of them      
require a certain force to bring them   
into action1 and when this force is     
absent they usually retard the flow they
 are intended to increase4 ,this is true
 of a recent invention known as         
,banner's ventilating cowl1 which so    
long as the wind blows is a most        
effective device4 ,when the air is      
perfectly still1 however1 it offers by  
its curved air-way a certain resistance 
to the current1 and in the case of      
baffling winds and flaws the air may    
blow directly into its opening4  ,among 

the various inventions of this sort     
nothing seems so free from objection as 
the old arrangement known as the        
,emerson ventilator1 shown in ,figure   
#g4 ,this gives a straight outlet1      
protected by a disk far enough above it 
not to prevent its delivery of air2 and 
it becomes an effective suction cowl1   
with the least movement of the wind from
 any side or from above or below4 ,no   
eddy caused by the angles of gable roofs
 can give it a backward draught2 and if 
a pipe armed with it be held toward the 
strongest gale a puff of smoke blown    
into its other end will be instantly    
drawn through4 ,as the patent for this  
invention has run out1 it is competent  
for any tinsmith to make it1 and it is a
 common article of manufacture4         
,illustration3 ,,fig4 #g4--,,the        
,,emerson ,,ventilator4  #b4 ,what is   
said above concerning the ventilation of
 the soil-pipe from end to end relates  
to the interest of the private owner4   
,the interest of the public gives an    

equally strong argument in its favor4   
,the sewer should be as far as possible 
removed from the condition of an        
elongated cesspool4 ,there must be no   
halting of its contents1 and no deposit 
of filth or silt at any point4 ,within  
the shortest time possible1 every thing 
received into the sewer must be passed  
on and delivered at its outlet4 ,still1 
however perfectly this may be           
accomplished1 there will always be a    
certain adhesion of slime to the walls  
of the sewer2 and this slime must always
 be in a state of decomposition1 a      
constant source of offence and possible 
danger4 ,the only way to avert this     
danger is to give the sewer such a      
thorough ventilation that the           
decomposition shall be rapid and safe1  
and that the resultant gases shall be at
 once diluted with fresh air4  ,this may
 be measurably accomplished by the      
simple ventilation of the sewer itself1 
through open-topped man-holes2 but such 
ventilation is less effective in the    

case of small sewers than of large ones4
 ,in the case of either large or small  
sewers1 it will be vastly increased if  
we compel every householder who makes a 
connection with the sewer1 to carry a   
drain and soil pipe1 nowhere less than  
four inches in diameter1 from the point 
of junction with the main line to the   
open air above the roof4 ,where houses  
are near enough to make the use of a    
public sewer advisable1 the aggregate of
 these soil-pipes1 having almost        
constantly an upward current1 will make 
such a draught upon the sewer1 to be    
supplied by a downward current through  
the man-hole covers1 as will maintain a 
perfect and continuous ventilation4     
99       99       99       99       99  
,important as it is to secure the proper
 arrangement and construction of sewers 
and house-drains1 it is still more      
important to provide for the safe       
disposition of the sewage4  ,we must    
begin at the outset with the            
understanding that all sewage matters   

not only are of no value to the         
community1 but that it will cost money  
to get rid of them4  ,there is hardly an
 instance1 after all the efforts that   
have been made1 of the profitable       
disposal of the outflow of public       
sewers4 ,the theoretical value of the   
wastes of human life is very great1 but 
the cost of any method for utilizing    
them seems at least equally great4 ,the 
question of cost is so much more        
important 7to the community7 than the   
question of agricultural value1 that the
 practical thing to do is to make such  
disposition as will cost the least1     
while fully meeting the best sanitary   
requirements4  ,so far as village sewage
 is concerned1 there are three means    
open for its disposal3 to discharge it  
into running water or into deep         
tide-water1 to use it for the surface   
irrigation of land1 or to distribute it 
through sub-irrigation pipes placed at  
little distance below the surface of the
 soil4 ,experiments are being made with 

more or less promise of success in the  
direction of the chemical treatment of  
this liquid so as to purify its effluent
 water1 and retain in a solid form1 and 
in combination with certain valuable    
added ingredients1 all of its           
undissolved impurities4 ,none of these  
processes can as yet claim consideration
 in regulating public works4  ,the      
cheapest way to get rid of sewage is to 
discharge it into a running stream or   
into tide-water4 ,so far as the         
community itself is concerned1 this is  
often the best way2 but there will very 
often arise the objection that the      
community has no moral or legal right to
 foul a stream of which others make use 
in its further course4 ,where the amount
 of water constantly flowing is very    
large1 and where the discharge is       
rapid1--any given part of the sewage    
reaching the open air within a few hours
 from the time of its entering the      
pipes1--and where it flows in moving    
water for a considerable distance before

 reaching others who may have occasion  
to use the stream1 no practical danger  
is to be apprehended4 ,but where the    
sewage is more foul1 more sluggish1 or  
exposed in the open current for a       
shorter time1 the danger may be serious4
 ,the pouring of sewage into tide-water 
is always admissible where floats show  
that there is no danger of a return and 
deposit of solid filth2 but the delivery
 at all stages of the tide1 in the      
immediate neighborhood of salt marshes  
and mud flats1 and in land-locked       
harbors1 is to be avoided4  ,where an   
unobjectionable natural outflow cannot  
be provided1 the irrigation of          
agricultural lands affords the best     
relief4 ,the action of vegetation1 the  
oxidation which takes in the upper and  
well-aerated layers of soil1 and the    
well-known but not yet fully explained  
disinfecting qualities of common earth1 
are effective in removing the dangerous 
and offensive impurities1 and in        
converting them into a more or less     

important source of fertility4          
,precisely how far this system may be   
available during winter1 it is not easy 
to say4 ,while the earth is locked with 
frost1 there must be very little1 if    
any1 infiltration2 but1 as an offset1   
the action of a low temperature upon the
 sewage matters will clearly be         
antiseptic2 and it is only necessary to 
provide against an undue washing away of
 the surface of the ground during thaws1
 and against the flowing of the sewage  
beyond the proper limits4  ,generally in
 the neighborhood of villages it will be
 easy to find lands over which the      
delivery may be carried on throughout   
the year without objection4 ,the sewer1 
or some form of covered channel1 should 
lead far enough from any public road to 
avoid offence4 ,from this point it may  
be led by open gutters to the land over 
which it is to be spread1--or rather    
through such a system of surface gutters
 as will enable us to deliver it at     
different parts of the field1 according 

to the requirements of the crops1 and so
 as to use fresh land at frequent       
intervals1 leaving that which has been  
saturated to the purifying processes of 
vegetation and atmospheric action4  ,the
 gutters having been made1 it is easy1  
by the use of portable dams1--of thin   
boiler-iron1 like broad shovels1--which 
may be set in the course of the flow1 to
 divert the current into any branch     
channel1 or to stop it at any desired   
part of this channel4 ,all the gutters  
having sufficient descent to lead the   
sewage rapidly forward1 it is usual to  
set a dam near the far end of the       
gutter1 and allow the sewage to overflow
 and run down over the surface until it 
has reached as far as the formation of  
the ground and the quantity of the      
liquid will allow it to spread4 ,this   
portion having received its due amount  
of the liquid1 the dam is moved to a    
higher point1 and the overflow is       
allowed to spread over a second area4   
,in this way1 step by step1 we irrigate 

all that may be reached by a single     
gutter4 ,then the moving of the dam in  
the main line turns the water into      
another gutter1 and this is proceeded   
with in like manner4 ,in practice it is 
found best to begin the overflow at the 
farthest end of the lowest-lying gutter1
 working back step by step until the    
higher parts of the field are reached4  
,it would be better that there should be
 land enough to require the irrigation  
of any given area not oftener than once 
in one or two weeks4 ,the amount        
required for a given population cannot  
be determined by any fixed rule1--so    
much depending on the amount of water   
used per capita1 and on the absorptive  
character of the irrigated soil4 ,in the
 case of villages1 one acre to each five
 hundred of the population would        
generally be found ample4  ,there are   
several instances of the successful use 
of a much smaller area than is here     
indicated1 by the use of intermittent   
downward filtration4 ,the most noted    

success in this direction is that at    
,merthyr-,tydvil in ,wales1 a large     
mining town1 where the allowance is only
 one acre to each two thousand of the   
population4 ,there are two filter-beds  
of light loam over a gravelly subsoil   
thoroughly underdrained with tiles at a 
depth of six feet4 ,one of these beds is
 cultivated with some crop like ,italian
 rye-grass1 which bears copious         
irrigation2 and the other by some crop  
like wheat1 which1 in the absence of    
irrigation1 will thrive on the fertility
 left over from the previous season4    
,the volume of sewage is very great1 but
 the action of the six feet of earth in 
removing its impurities seems to be     
complete2 the water flowing out from the
 drains having been proved by analysis  
to be really far purer than the standard
 fixed by the ,rivers ,pollution        
,commission4  ,it is an important       
condition of this system that the       
sewage1 where its quantity is small1    
shall be stored in tanks until a large  

volume has accumulated1 and that it then
 be rapidly discharged over the soil4   
,there is no objection to an actual     
saturation of the ground1 provided the  
soil is not of such a retentive         
character as to be liable to become     
puddled1 and so made impervious4 ,the   
tanks being emptied1 the flow ceases    
until they are again filled4 ,during the
 interval1 the liquid settles away in   
the soil1 by which its impurities are   
removed4 ,its descent is followed by the
 entrance of fresh air1 and the         
oxidizing action of this1 accompanied   
during the growing season by the        
purifying effect of the growing crop1   
leads to an entire decomposition or     
destruction of all organic matters4     
,the third system--the distribution of  
sewage through irrigation-pipes laid at 
a depth of ten or twelve inches below   
the surface of the ground--has its      
efficiency attested by numerous         
instances in private grounds4 ,i have   
adopted this system for disposing of the

 sewage of the village of ,lenox1       
,mass41 where there was no other means  
available short of cutting an outlet1 at
 great expense1 through a considerable  
elevation4 ,this method is an extremely 
simple one1 and is available in every   
instance where even a small area of land
 lying slightly below the level of the  
outlet is to be commanded4 ,the         
arrangement of the sub-irrigation pipes 
is easily made3 ,suppose that in land   
having an inclination of about one in   
two hundred1 occupied by grass or other 
growth1 a trench be dug twelve inches   
deep1 that there be laid upon the bottom
 of this trench a narrow strip of plank 
to insure a uniform grade1 and that upon
 this plank is laid a line of common    
agricultural land-drain tiles1 say two  
inches in diameter4 ,however carefully  
these tiles may be placed1 there will be
 at their joints a sufficient space for 
the leaking out of any liquid they may  
contain2 the tiles being laid either    
with collars around the joints1 or with 

bits of paper laid over them1 to prevent
 the rattling in of loose earth during  
the filling4 ,the excavated earth is to 
be returned to its place1 well          
compacted1 and covered with its sod4    
,suppose this drain to have a           
cross-section equal to three square     
inches1 and a length of one hundred     
feet1 its capacity will equal about     
sixteen gallons1 or a half-barrel4 ,if  
this amount of liquid be rapidly        
discharged into the drain1 the          
inclination being slight1 it will at    
once be filled or nearly filled for its 
whole length1 and the liquid will leak  
away in tolerably uniform proportion at 
every joint along the line1 and will    
saturate the surrounding earth4 ,the    
plan adopted at ,lenox1 and recommended 
for all small villages which cannot     
secure a better outlet1 is simply a     
multiplication of these drains to a     
sufficient extent4  ,a description of   
the manner in which the ,lenox work is  
arranged will illustrate the adaptation 

of the system to its circumstances4 ,as 
circumstances vary1 the adaptation must 
be modified4 7,see ,figure #h47         
,illustration3 ,,fig4 #h4--;,,diagram   
,,illustrating ,,manner ,,of ,,sewage   
,,disposal ,,at ,,lenox1 ,,mass4  ,the  
main outlet sewer delivers at a distance
 of about one-half mile from the last   
junction with a branch sewer4 ,it is a  
six-inch pipe five feet below the       
surface of the ground1 and it delivers  
into a flush-tank like that shown in    
,figure #f1 but having a capacity of    
about five hundred cubic feet4 ,this    
tank stands at the upper side of a field
 having an inclination of seven in one  
hundred4 ,there is a branch from the    
main sewer1 above the tank1 supplied    
with a stop-cock1 by which1 in case of  
need1 the sewage may be carried on down 
the hill without going into the tank4   
,the outlet from the chamber below the  
siphon leads off in another direction   
down the hill1 and has a stop-cock and a
 branch which will allow its flow to be 

diverted4 ,the discharge of this        
diverted stream and the discharge       
through the branch of the main above the
 tank1 both deliver into a horizontal   
surface gutter to be well grassed1 and  
lying at the top of the land to be      
irrigated4 ,by this arrangement1 should 
repairs become necessary in the tank1   
the flow may be turned into the gutter2 
or1 should it be desired for any reason 
to use the outflow of the tank for      
surface irrigation1 the second branch   
outlet will deliver it into the same    
gutter1 where1 the outflow being uniform
 along the whole length of five hundred 
feet1 the stream will pass in a thin    
sheet off on to the descending ground4  
,the hill-side1 immediately below the   
gutter1 is brought to a true grade and  
covered with grass4 ,as its inclination 
is much greater than would be admissible
 for sub-irrigation drains1 these are   
laid obliquely in parallel lines at     
intervals of six feet from one end to   
the other over the whole graded slope4  

,these drains are connected at their    
upper ends with the direct outlet-pipe  
leading from the siphon chamber4 ,they  
have an aggregate length of about ten   
thousand feet4 ,the method of operation 
is as follows3--  ,the capacity of the  
tank is supposed to equal about two     
days' discharge1 or about thirty-five   
hundred gallons2 and the whole capacity 
of the drains is about half that of the 
tank1 so that the rapid emptying of the 
whole volume into them will insure their
 being pretty thoroughly filled from end
 to end4 ,this arrangement will provide 
for the saturation of the soil about    
once in two days1 and will leave a      
sufficient interval between the periods 
of saturation for the thorough dispersal
 and aeration of the filth4  ,the extent
 to which this system will be interfered
 with by frost1 it is impossible to say4
 ,this will probably be less than would 
be supposed1 for the reason that the    
ground would often be covered with snow1
 and that the sewage will have          

sufficient warmth to exert considerable 
thawing influence4 ,whenever the        
discharge of the liquid through         
irrigation pipes is shown to have become
 obstructed by freezing1 it will only be
 necessary to divert the flow1 and turn 
it into the surface gutter to be        
distributed over the ground4  ,it is    
possible that in this case1 as in the   
one which has been under my observation 
for six years past1 there will be no    
interruption of the working because of  
cold2 but1 should the interruption      
become serious1 ,i shall propose the    
planting of evergreen trees in parallel 
rows midway between the drains4 ,the    
protection that would thus be afforded1 
both by the trees and by the drifting   
snow which they would gather1 would     
probably keep the ground free throughout
 the winter4 ,incidentally to the chief 
advantage of this system1 there will be1
 so long as the land is in grass1 quite 
an addition to its product4         99  
99       99       99       99  ,there   

are hundreds of villages1 with and      
without a water supply1 where the houses
 are too scattering and the street      
lengths too great to make it advisable  
that the cost of any form of public     
sewerage should be assumed4 ,in all such
 villages1 the public authority or the  
active influence of the village         
improvement association should be       
exerted to secure a regular and         
systematic adoption of some more perfect
 system for the private disposal of     
household drainage than is usual4       
,fortunately1 the best system is the    
cheapest4  ,no form of cesspool1 no     
leaching vault1 and no cemented tank1   
should be allowed under any             
circumstances4 ,neither should there be 
permitted any form of the old-fashioned 
out-of-door privy with a vault4 ,every  
household should be supplied with       
water-closets or well-arranged          
earth-closets1 to which reference will  
be made below4  ,illustration3 ,,fig4   
#i4--,,settling ,,basin4  ,the foul     

water discharge of kitchen sinks1 or of 
whatever form of slop-sink is used for  
the water of bedrooms1 should discharge 
into a flush-tank1 and should be led    
from this by a tightly cemented         
four-inch drain to a tight settling     
basin in the ground beyond4 ,if         
water-closets are used1 the soil-pipe   
should deliver into the drain between   
the flush-tank and the settling basin4  
,the settling basin should be           
constructed as shown in ,figure #i2 and 
this1 as well as the flush-tank1 the    
soil-pipe1 and the connecting drains1   
should be amply ventilated4 ,the outlet 
from the settling basin should be       
carried by well-cemented vitrified pipes
 7four-inch7 to the connection with the 
subsoil irrigation pipes4 ,the          
flush-tank discharging at each operation
 of its siphon about thirty gallons of  
liquid1 two hundred feet of drain1      
unless the soil is very compact1 will   
dispose of the whole discharge with     
sufficient rapidity4 ,the tank being    

emptied1 the flow ceases2 and within a  
very short time the drain becomes empty 
of its contents1 which are absorbed by  
the sponge-like action of the earth1 and
 are subjected to the combined influence
 of the roots of plants1 and of the     
concentrated oxygen contained among the 
particles of the soil4 ,they will soon  
have their character entirely changed1  
so that the earth will become purified1 
and will be ready to receive the next   
discharge from the tank4 ,in the case of
 my own drains1 after five years of     
unremitted use1 the gradual accumulation
 of bits of grease and more solid       
matters obstructed the drains1 and there
 appeared undue moisture about their    
upper ends4 ,all that was then necessary
 was to re-open the trenches1 and       
remove1 wash1 and replace the tiles4    
,this operation cost1 for a length of   
two hundred feet1 less than three       
dollars4  ,for any ordinary household of
 six or eight persons1 where the        
water-closet is not used1 two hundred   

feet of drain of this sort will be      
sufficient4 ,if there are water-closets1
 it may be well to duplicate the length2
 and1 to provide for the necessary      
connections to lead the liquid to the   
drains1 we may assume that in all five  
hundred feet of length will be required4
 ,the cost of two-inch tiles at the     
works1 in small lots1 and where collars 
are furnished1 is about three cents per 
foot2 and we will suppose that          
transportation will increase the cost to
 five cents per foot1 making the cost of
 this item twenty-five dollars4 ,the    
strips of board 7three inches wide7 will
 cost1 at a very liberal estimate1 five 
dollars more1 and the cost of digging   
and laying not more than another five   
dollars2 so that the establishment of   
this means of disposal1 under the most  
liberal allowance of prices1 will not   
exceed thirty-five dollars4 ,ordinarily1
 especially where neighbors combine to  
buy their material in larger quantities1
 it will hardly exceed one-half of this 

amount4 ,this1 be it understood1 is for 
a complete and permanent substitute for 
the expensive and nasty cesspool now so 
generally depended upon in the country4 
,a piece of ground fifty feet square1   
having ten rows of tile five feet apart 
and fifty feet long1 will suffice for   
even a large household with an abundant 
water supply4 ,for the better           
illustration of the arrangement of this 
system1 ,i give in ,figure #aj a plan   
for the work in the case of a lot fifty 
feet wide1 with a depth of open ground  
behind the house of somewhat more than  
fifty feet4 ,the leaching drains may    
safely begin at a distance of even ten  
feet from the back of the house1        
requiring for the whole a clear area of 
only fifty feet by sixty feet4 ,with    
small households1 the length of drain   
may be very much shortened4 ,in my own  
case1 where water-closets are not used1 
the total length of irrigation drain is1
 as before stated1 only two hundred     
feet4  ,illustration3 ,,fig4 #aj4  ,the 

earth-closet was invented by the ,rev4  
,henry ,moule1 vicar of ,fordington1 in 
,england1 more than ten years ago4 ,its 
progress in ,england has been           
considerable1 and its introduction there
 has resulted in a profit to the company
 undertaking it4 ,in this country it has
 met with less general favor4 ,two      
companies with large capital1 after     
expending all their resources1 have been
 obliged to abandon their attempts to   
build up a profitable business4 ,having 
been actively interested in the         
enterprise from its inception1 and      
having given constant attention to the  
merits of the system1 ,i am to-day more 
than ever convinced that the solution of
 one of the most difficult problems     
connected with country and village life 
is to be sought in its general adoption4
 ,the public reports of sanitary        
officers in ,england1 who have          
investigated the subject to its         
foundation1 fully confirm every thing   
that has been claimed by the advocates  

of the earth-closet1 unless perhaps in  
connection with the incidental question 
of the value of the product as a manure4
  ,the only thing which now deters the  
authorities of some of the larger       
manufacturing towns of the ,north of    
,england from adopting the              
dry-earth-system as a means of relief1  
under the sharp exaction of the law that
 prohibits their further fouling of     
water-courses1 is the belief that the   
labor of bringing into the town the     
enormous amount of earth required to    
supply such an immense number of        
closets1 and the labor of removing the  
product at frequent intervals1 would be 
so great as to constitute an            
insurmountable obstruction4  ,prof4     
,voelcker1 in a paper published in the  
,journal of the ,royal ,agricultural    
,society1 shows pretty conclusively that
 even the use of the same earth four or 
five times over1 although perfectly     
successful in accomplishing the chief   
purpose of deodorization1 fails to add  

to it a sufficient amount of fertilizing
 matter to make it an available         
commercial manure4 ,extended experience 
in small villages and public            
institutions seems to confirm his view1 
that1 if the earth-closet is to be      
adopted by towns1 they cannot depend    
either on farmers buying the manure1 or 
undertaking the labor of supplying and  
removing it4 ,it is estimated1 that1 for
 a population of one hundred thousand   
persons1 there would be required        
seventy-five tons of earth per day1 to  
say nothing of heavy refuse matters     
which would be thrown into the closets1 
and would increase the amount to be     
removed4 ,even the quantity required for
 a village of a few hundred inhabitants1
 if it were to be brought in and carried
 out1 would entail a considerable cost  
for handling4  ,i have recently         
concluded an experiment of six years'   
duration1 the result of which seems to  
show that this objection to the adoption
 of the earth-closet system may be set  

aside1 or at least reduced to such      
proportions as to make it unimportant4  
,in the autumn of #ahgj ,i had brought  
to my house1 where only earth-closets   
are used1 two small cart-loads of garden
 earth1 dried and sifted4 ,this was used
 repeatedly in the closets2 and1 when an
 increased quantity was required1       
additions were made of sifted anthracite
 ashes4 ,i estimate that the amount of  
material now on hand is about two tons4 
,we long since stopped adding to the    
quantity1 finding that the amount was   
ample to furnish a supply of dry and    
decomposed material whenever it becomes 
necessary to refill the reservoirs of   
the closets4  ,the accumulation under   
the seats is discharged through simply  
arranged valves into bricked vaults in  
the cellar4 ,when these vaults become   
filled1--about three times in a         
year1--their contents1 which are all    
thoroughly decomposed1 are piled up in a
 dry and ventilated place with a slight 
covering of fresh earth to keep down any

 odor that might arise4 ,after a        
sufficient interval these heaps are     
ready for further use1 there being no   
trace1 in any portion1 of foreign matter
 nor any appearance or odor differing   
from that of an unused fresh mixture of 
earth and ashes4 ,in this way the       
material has been used over and over    
again1 at least ten times2 and there is 
no indication to the senses of any      
change in its condition4  ,a sample of  
this material has recently been analyzed
 by ,prof4 ,atwater1 at the ,connecticut
 ,agricultural ,station at ,middletown4 
,the analysis shows that it contains no 
more organic matter than ,prof4         
,voelcker found in fresh earth prepared 
for use in the closet1--say about two   
hundred pounds1--nearly all of which    
organic matter it undoubtedly contained 
when first made ready for use4 ,in my   
case1 there was an addition1 at a       
moderate calculation of at least1 #hjj  
pounds of solid dry matter during the   
six years' use by an average of four    

adult persons4 ,prof4 ,voelcker's       
analysis showed that the unused earth   
contained about twelve pounds of        
nitrogen4 ,prof4 ,atwater's analysis    
shows that my two tons contained only   
about eleven pounds of nitrogen4 ,by    
calculation1 the #hjj pounds of solid   
dry matters added in the use of my      
material contained #bcj pounds of       
nitrogen4  ,doubtless the constitution  
of ,prof4 ,voelcker's sample was        
somewhat different from the original    
constitution of my own2 but practically1
 except perhaps for the addition of a   
trifling amount of residual carbon      
remaining after the decomposition1 they 
were about the same2 and1 after being   
used ten times over1 the whole of the   
#hjj pounds of organic matter added1    
including #bcj pounds of nitrogen1 seem 
to have entirely disappeared4  ,it      
becomes interesting and important to    
know what has become of this added      
matter4 ,that it was absorbed into the  
particles of the earth1 is a matter of  

course2 and the result proves that after
 such absorption it was subjected to    
such a chemical action of the           
concentrated oxygen always existing in  
porous dry material as led to its entire
 destruction4 ,porous substances        
condense gases--air1 oxygen1 etc4--in   
proportion to the extent of their       
interior surface4 ,the well-known       
disinfecting action of charcoal--the    
surface of the interior particles of    
which equal from fifty to one hundred   
square feet to each cubic inch of       
material1 and all of which surface is   
active in condensing oxygen--is due not 
simply to an absorption of foul-smelling
 odors1 but to an actual destruction of 
them by slow combustion1 so that the    
same mass of charcoal1 if kept dry and  
porous1 will continue almost            
indefinitely its undiminished           
disinfecting action4  ,the earth used in
 the closet is a porous material1       
sufficiently dry for the free admission 
of air or of oxygen4 ,the foulest       

materials when covered with dry earth at
 once lose their odor1 and are in time  
as effectively destroyed by combustion  
7oxidized7 as though they had been      
burned in a furnace4 ,the process is    
more slow1 but none the less sure2 and  
it is clear that in the case of my      
dirt-heap the foul matters added have   
thus been destroyed4 ,the practical     
bearings of this fact are of the utmost 
importance4 ,earth is not to be regarded
 as a vehicle for the inoffensive       
removal beyond the limits of the town of
 what has hitherto been its most        
troublesome product1 but as a medium for
 bringing together the offensive        
ingredients of this product1 and the    
world's great scavenger1 oxygen4 ,my    
experiment seems to demonstrate the fact
 that there is no occasion to carry away
 the product from the place where it has
 been produced1 as after a reasonable   
time it has ceased to exist1 and there  
remains only a mass of earth which is in
 all respects as effective as any fresh 

supply that could be substituted4  ,the 
quantity necessary to be provided can be
 determined only by extended trial4 ,my 
experiment proves that the amount needed
 does not exceed one thousand pounds for
 each member of the household1 and that 
this amount once provided will remain   
permanently effective to accomplish its 
purpose4  ,with a suitable public supply
 of water for the purpose1 and with a   
suitable means of disposal1 nothing can 
be better and nothing is more easily    
kept in good condition than             
well-regulated and properly ventilated  
water-closets4 ,where these are         
available1 with enough water for their  
flushing1 their use is to be            
recommended4 ,where there is not        
sufficient water1 there a well-regulated
 system of earth-closets seems to be    
imperatively demanded4 ,by one process  
or the other we must prevent the fouling
 of the lower soil1 and the consequent  
tainting of wells and springs1 and the  
ground under houses and adjoining their 

cellars4 ,with a system of              
sub-irrigation pipes which deliver foul 
matters into earth that is subject to   
the active operation of oxidizing       
influences1 we need fear no             
contamination of the deep and unaerated 
soil4 ,it would be better1 however1     
where this system is used for the       
disposal of the outflow of soil-pipes1  
to avoid the use of wells4 ,as a general
 rule1 it is safer not to use for       
drinking purposes the water of any well 
near a house or a stable3 practically1  
it is better not to use wells at all as 
a source of water for domestic supply4  
,filtered cistern-water is greatly to be
 preferred4     ,,farm ,,villages4      
,god made the country1 and man made the 
town4   ,cowper's view of the charm of  
country life as compared with life in   
the town is a very natural one4 ,the    
same view suggests itself to every      
cultivated denizen of the city who finds
 himself in the country on a beautiful  
,june morning1 or under a warm          

,september sun1 or during the time of   
brilliant autumn foliage1 or when the   
sun sets with a warm glow1 gilding the  
clean1 bare boughs of ,november trees1  
or when the whole countryside is covered
 with spotless snow1 or when grass and  
leaves and buds and birds first feel the
 awakening warmth of spring4 ,the scene 
is full of a charm and a novelty which  
appeal to him most strongly2 and he     
believes1 for the moment at least1 that 
nothing could make him so entirely happy
 as to spend his life away from the     
noise and confusion of the town1 and    
amid such scenes of rural peace and     
beauty4 ,filled with this enthusiasm1   
one builds with reference to a          
magnificent view1 and without regard to 
the practical inconveniences of the     
site1 fancying that true happiness      
requires only a continuance of the novel
 charms which have enraptured him4  ,the
 cultivated countryman1 too1--one who   
has learned to use his eyes1 and to see 
what nature has to offer                

him1--appreciates even more thoroughly1 
if not so keenly1 the never-ending and  
ever-changing interest by which he is   
surrounded4 ,his admiration and         
enthusiasm1 however1 are tempered by    
familiarity with some disadvantages of  
country life1--just as the romantic     
house-builder finds on closer           
acquaintance that1 magnificent though a 
hill-top view may be1 a hill-top        
residence is not without its grave      
drawbacks1 nor free from annoyances and 
practical objections which too often    
throw a veil over the most majestic     
outlook4  ,a blue-sided1 white-capped   
mountain1 reflected in a broad1 placid1 
shimmering lake1 and framed between     
fleeting clouds1 graceful trees1 and    
verdant lawn1 is beyond compare the     
strongest inducement and the best reward
 one can offer to a visiting friend2 but
 vile roads1 distant neighbors1         
discontented and transitory servants1   
and all the thousand and one            
obstructions to the machinery of        

domestic life1 soon blind the eye of the
 unhappy householder to the beauty which
 lies ever before him1 until at last the
 one great good thing which commands his
 constant thought is that romantic and  
pecunious friend who shall come some    
happy day to purchase his estate4       
,there is another class1 and a very     
large one1 whose opinion concerning the 
godlike character of the country it is  
our especial purpose to consider here4  
,the farmer and the farmer's family may 
or may not be cultivated persons4       
,cultivation does not come by nature2   
and the incessant and increasing duties 
of farm life leave one1 however well    
disposed1 but little time and but scant 
strength for aesthetic study4 ,the      
farmhouse is the centre of the home life
 and of the homely thought and feeling  
of its inmates4 ,the farm on which one  
has been born and bred is the centre and
 standpoint from which he regards the   
world without4 ,all those more tender   
emotions which are common to our nature1

 and which attach themselves to the     
home1 find their development on the farm
 as well as in the town4 ,sentimentally 
considered1 it matters little whether   
the object of these emotions be on the  
farm1 in the wilderness1 in the village1
 or in the city4 ,fortunately1 man is by
 no means a creature of emotion alone2  
and the satisfaction and good of living 
are less a matter of feeling than of    
activity1 industry1 and intelligence4   
,the place in which one lives is more or
 less satisfactory in proportion as it  
facilitates and encourages the better   
and more useful living4  ,just as the   
citizen feels the attractions of the    
country1 which are so novel to his      
town-bred taste1 so the countryman finds
 a charm in the novelty of the town4 ,as
 one is led toward the quiet and        
solitude of the fields and woods1 so the
 other is drawn by the life and interest
 of the community4  ,as a rule1 at least
 in ,america1 where the facilities for  
pleasant country living are far less    

than in ,england1 the countryman who    
goes to town is less likely to wish     
himself back on the farm than is the    
town-bred farmer to long for the        
comforts and conveniences of his former 
condition4  ,man is a social animal1 and
 the aphorism is especially true of his 
wife and daughter4 ,as the lives of the 
wife and daughter are much more confined
 to the immediate surroundings of the   
domicile than is that of the man        
himself1 so the question as between town
 and country should be considered more  
especially with reference to them4      
,there is a certain amount of truth on  
both sides of every question2 and the   
one which we are now considering is not 
to be answered by a decision in favor of
 the heart of a great city1 or of the   
entire solitude of an outlying farm4 ,as
 is so often the case1 its solution lies
 between the two extremes4 ,if one may  
be permitted to imagine the conditions  
best suited to the perfect physical1    
intellectual1 and social development of 

the human being1 one would naturally    
think of a small town or a large village
 where society is sufficient1 where the 
facilities for instruction are good1    
where communication with the large      
centres is easy1 where the conveniences 
and facilities for household economy are
 complete1 and where the country with   
its beauty and quiet and freshness is   
close at hand1--where one feels on this 
side the influence of a complete social 
organization1 and on that the sweet     
breath of mother earth4  ,unfortunately1
 these imaginings can never be freed    
from the practical bearing of the       
bread-winning and money-making          
interests4 ,men must live1 not where    
they prefer to live1 but where their    
interests compel them to live4 ,the town
 and the country have their mutual      
economic duties by which their life must
 be controlled4 ,all that we can hope to
 do is1 on one hand1 to ameliorate the  
hardness and solitude of country living1
 and1 on the other1 to bring the citizen

 into nearer relation with the          
invigorating fields and woods and       
boundless air of the country4  ,devising
 no modern ,sybaris1 where all possible 
good of life may follow from the unaided
 operation of a perfect social and      
industrial organization1 ,i propose to  
confine myself to the simple question of
 the best practical development of      
village life for farmers4 ,the village  
or its immediate vicinity seems to me to
 offer the urbanist the nearest approach
 to the country that is available for   
his purposes2 and in like manner village
 life1 so far as it can be made to fit  
his conditions1 offers to the farmer as 
much of the benefit of town life as the 
needs of his work will allow him to     
obtain4 ,if those who now seek the      
pleasures of retirement in costly and   
soul-wearying country-seats would       
congregate into spacious and well-kept  
villages1 and if those who now live in  
the solitary retirement of the mud-bound
 farmhouse would congregate into        

villages1 we should secure far more     
relief from the confinement of the town 
and a wider-reaching attractiveness in  
agricultural life2 this latter leading  
to the improvement of our farming by a  
solution of that long-mooted problem1   
,how to keep the boys on the farm4      
,nearly everywhere on the ,continent of 
,europe those who are engaged in the    
cultivation of the land live in         
villages4 ,an observation of the modes  
of life and industry of these villages  
has led me to consider whether some     
similar system might not tend to the    
improvement of the conditions of our own
 farmers1 and to the amelioration of    
some hardships to which their families  
are subjected4  ,in ,europe1 as here1   
the methods of living have grown from   
natural causes4 ,there it was a         
necessary condition of agricultural     
industry1 that those who tilled the soil
 should be protected by the military    
power of their lord or chief2 and their 
houses were clustered under the shadow  

of his castle wall4 ,the castles have   
crumbled away1 and the protecting arm of
 the old baron has been replaced by the 
protecting arm of the nation4  ,the     
community of living1 which grew from    
necessity1 having proved its fitness by 
long trial1 is still maintained2 but    
there seems to have been no general     
tendency toward the formation of such   
little communities here4 ,save in a few 
exceptional cases1--as in the old       
villages of the ,connecticut ,valley1   
where protection against ,indians or    
safety from inundation compelled the    
original settlers to gather into        
communities1--the pioneer built his     
cabin in his new clearing1 and1 as his  
circumstances improved1 changed his     
cabin for a house1 and his small house  
for a larger one1 and finally           
established his comfortable home in     
connection with his fertile fields4     
,this method has been adopted throughout
 the whole country2 and the peculiarly  
,american system of isolated farm-life  

has become almost universal throughout  
the length and breadth of the land4  ,i 
am not so enthusiastic as to believe    
that a radical change from this         
universal system is to be hoped for at  
any early day2 but ,i believe that it is
 worth while for farmers to consider how
 far they may1 without permanent harm to
 the interests for which they are       
working1 secure for themselves1 and     
especially for their families1 the      
benefits of village life4  ,to this end 
are adduced the following examples1 both
 of which are of course purely          
imaginary4 ,the first has reference to a
 new settlement of wild land1 where1 by 
the ,government's system of division1   
the boundaries are rectangular1 and     
where the political subdivisions are of 
uniform measurement4 ,the second relates
 to the necessary change of conditions  
now existing in the longer-settled parts
 of the country4  ,for this latter1 the 
illustration is taken from an actual    
accurate survey#a of a purely           

agricultural district in ,rhode ,island1
 showing the roads1 houses1 and field   
boundaries as they now exist1 followed  
by a suggestion as to the manner in     
which the same division of estates might
 be made to conform to the assembling of
 their owners into a village4  ,footnote
 #a3 ,a map of the ,united ,states      
,coast ,survey4  ,the ,government       
division is into townships six miles    
square4 ,it is proposed to divide each  
township into nine settlements1 giving  
to each a square of two miles1 or #b1efj
 acres4 ,each of these settlements      
should have its whole population        
concentrated in a village at its centre4
 ,a suitable method of division would be
 that indicated in ,figure #aa1 where a 
public road crosses the middle of the   
tract north and south1 and east and     
west4 ,the outside of the tract1 for the
 width of half a mile all around1 is    
laid off in farms of #hj acres and #afj 
acres4 ,these are bounded on the inner  
sides by a road4 ,inside of this road   

again is a series of smaller farms 7#dj 
acres71 and inside of these a tier of   
still smaller places 7#aj acres71       
separated from the central village by a 
narrow road4 ,the village itself        
occupies #dj acres4  ,the division of   
the agricultural land is as follows3--  
#d farms of   #afj acres   #fdj    #af  
#hj      #a1bhj    #ab            #dj   
#dhj    #ab            #aj        #abj  
in all1 #dd tracts1 aggregating #b1ebj  
acres1 and averaging nearly #fj acres   
each1 the most distant being less than a
 mile from the village green4 ,this     
division is arbitrary2 in practice1 the 
more industrious members of the         
community would buy land from their less
 industrious neighbors1 and the size and
 arrangement of the farms would vary4   
,often1 too1 the division would be into 
farms averaging more than sixty acres4  
,in such cases there would usually be   
about the same population1 as the larger
 holders would employ more workmen4     
,illustration3 ,,fig4 #aa4--;,,division 

,,of ,,four ,,square ,,miles ,,with     
,,central ,,village4  ,what is attempted
 is chiefly to show how four square     
miles of land may be so divided that its
 occupiers may be conveniently gathered 
into a village2 and it may fairly be    
assumed1 that1 except in the more remote
 grazing and grain-growing regions1 the 
population 7including laborers7 would   
generally be about one household for    
each sixty acres4 ,in the more thickly  
settled regions1 this limit is exceeded 
now2 and1 as population increases1 this 
condition will extend4 ,in any case1 the
 principle advanced remains the same1   
whether there be thirty households or   
sixty4  ,a suitable division of the     
village is shown in ,figure #ab4 ,its   
centre is occupied by a public square at
 the intersection of the main roads4    
,the road surrounds a piece of          
ornamental ground1 containing about one 
acre4 ,north and south of the square are
 the sites of two churches1 a           
schoolhouse1 and a store and public     

house4 ,this is again arbitrary2 the    
purpose is to have these spaces occupied
 by somewhat important buildings1 which 
it will not be necessary to enclose by  
fences1 so that an appearance of more   
size may be given to the central feature
 of the village4  ,illustration3 ,,fig4 
#ab4--;,,division ,,of ,,the ,,central  
,,village4  ,the spaces set apart for   
these buildings1 as well as the village 
green1 should be surrounded by regularly
 planted trees1 such as will grow to a  
large size1 like the ,american elm4 ,but
 the whole open space should remain     
otherwise free from planting4 ,smooth1  
well-kept grass1 and large trees planted
 in formal lines1 with an entire absence
 of fences1 posts1 chains1 bushes1 and  
all decorations1 will give a dignity and
 character which an excess of           
ornamentation would spoil4 ,a certain   
amount of judicious bedding would be    
permissible1 but it would be best that  
even this should be confined to private 
places4 ,any fund available for         

embellishing the village green will be  
best used in keeping its grass cut and  
its walks clean1--entire neatness and   
simplicity being its most effective     
characteristics4  ,on the streets       
leading east and west from the green    
there are shown sixteen lots #ajj ,x    
#bej 7one-half acre71 eight #ej ,x #bej 
7one-quarter acre74 ,these lots all open
 on narrow lanes at the rear4 ,on the   
streets leading north and south there   
are twelve lots #ej ,x #fej             
7three-quarters acre71 and eight lots   
#ajj ,x #fej 7one and one-half acres74  
,these are the village lots proper1 but 
the twelve ten-acre tracts which front  
on its surrounding street would be the  
residences of their owners2 and these   
semi-detached houses--the most distant  
not a quarter of a mile from the        
green--would form a part of the village1
 and come within the operation of its   
rules of association4 ,probably the     
blacksmith1 the wheelwright1 and the    
builder would occupy these outlying     

places1 with an annex of farming to     
supplement their trades4  ,the village  
lots proper are all large enough for a  
kitchen-garden1 barn1 barn-yard1 c42 and
 all have means of access from the rear1
 so that their street fronts may be kept
 for ornamental purposes4  ,it would be 
a good rule that no house should stand  
nearer to the street line than thirty   
feet1 and that no fence should be made  
nearer to the street than sixty feet4   
,this would add very much to the        
largeness of appearance of the whole    
village2 would decorate every street    
with the ornamental fronts of the houses
 and with their plants and shrubbery1   
and would1 at the same time1 shut off   
from the ornamental parts every thing   
belonging to the working department of  
the village life4 ,even the baker and   
the shoemaker should conform to this    
rule1 and their shops should be made to 
help the neatness of appearance of the  
village4  ,the larger farmers1 having   
the most cattle1 would occupy the       

largest lots1 which would readily       
accommodate their larger needs4 ,the    
more ambitious of them would probably   
buy land1 for night pasture or for      
cultivation1 from a ten-acre neighbor   
opposite their rear line4  ,the village 
population would be somewhat as follows3
 two clergymen1 one doctor1 one teacher1
 one baker1 one shoemaker1 one tailor1  
two store-keepers1 one carpenter1 one   
wheelwright1 one blacksmith1 one        
dressmaker1 one innkeeper1 forty-four   
farmers3 total1 fifty-eight heads of    
families4 ,probably1 including hired    
laborers and servants1 the average would
 be six persons to each household4 ,this
 would make the population of the       
village about #cej4 ,no part of the     
whole scheme is more arbitrary than this
 arrangement of its human element2 and  
no part of it would be more modified in 
different cases by the element of human 
nature4 ,still1 this sketch of the      
industrial division of the community    
would probably be approximated in any   

purely agricultural village of this     
size1--with such changes in the detail  
as would come from individual enterprise
 or indolence4  ,taking the whole area  
at #b1efj acres1 and the population at  
#cej persons1 we have an area of about  
#g-a_/c acres to furnish the support and
 home of each member of the             
community1--an amount ample for the     
purpose4  ,figure #ac suggests the      
arrangement of the central open space of
 the village1--all of which should be in
 well-kept grass1 except where roads and
 paths are needed4 ,paths should be     
reduced to the least amount that will   
furnish the necessary accommodation1 and
 they should be kept in neat condition4 
,if no provision can be made for this1  
it will be better to leave the people to
 beat their own tracks across the grass 
as their needs direct4 ,these beaten    
foot-paths are never unsightly 7in small
 villages71 for the reason that they are
 never large1 and that they are only of 
such width as their regular use will    

keep clean3 the grass maintains its     
effort to spread1 and grows always close
 up to the necessary foot-way4 ,even in 
,hyde ,park 7,london71 where the people 
have made short cuts across the broad   
lawns1 the paths thus marked out1 and   
receiving no attention1 are not only    
unobjectionable1 but are a charming     
feature of that beautiful               
pleasure-ground4  ,illustration3 ,,fig4 
#ac4--;,,division ,,of ,,the ,,central  
,,open ,,space ,,of ,,the ,,village4    
,the foot-path indicated for the village
 green will be demanded by the more     
ambitious village improvers2 but were ,i
 making an ideal village for moderate   
and tasteful people1 the road           
surrounding the green should enclose    
only a level1 close-cropped lawn1 neatly
 trimmed at its edges1 surrounded by    
fine and simple trees1 and traced here  
and there with the foot-paths that      
honest use had marked out and made1 and 
by the suggestive diamond-shaped track  
and bases of the village base-ball club4

 ,it should be perfect in grade1 in     
outline1 in regularity of planting1 and 
in mowing2 but it should be a perfect   
lawn plus the wear of constant use and  
frequent pleasure4         99       99  
99       99       99  ,the second       
example is taken from existing          
conditions in my own neighborhood4 ,the 
,united ,states ,coast ,survey has      
furnished all the necessary details save
 the farm boundaries4 ,the field        
boundaries and roads are exact4  ,the   
tract is of the same size with the one  
just considered1--two miles square4 ,its
 centre is in one direction about two   
miles from a small village1 and in the  
other about seven miles from a large    
town which furnishes the chief market   
for its agricultural products1 and is   
the source of all 7or nearly all7 of its
 supplies4  ,illustration3 ,,fig4       
#ad4--,,present ,,division ,,and        
,,settlement ,,of ,,tract ,,in ,,rhode  
,,island1 ,,two ,,miles ,,square4       
,figure #ad shows the present settlement

 of this area1 the houses1 about sixty  
in number1 being scattered over the     
whole tract1 with no near approach to a 
neighborhood at any point4 ,these are   
practically all farmers' houses1 some   
trade being carried on here and there in
 connection with the farm-work4 ,a few  
of the houses belong to farms which lie 
mainly outside of my lines4 ,deducting a
 fair proportion for this1 and others   
for the wheelwright1 blacksmith1 c41 we 
shall have about the same number of     
farmers as in the former instance1 say  
forty-four2 and1 taking the same area   
for the village1 we shall have the same 
amount of farm and village property for 
their support4  ,figure #ae shows a     
suitable division of property and the   
location of the village1 on a short     
cross street running from one to the    
other of the main public roads1 and     
extending a short distance up and down  
these roads4  ,it would be a necessary  
condition precedent1 that the whole     
property taken for the village should be

 set apart for the purpose4 ,this       
requirement and the cost of moving      
buildings from the farms to the village 
would doubtless be an serious obstacle  
to the immediate carrying out of the    
plan4 ,and thus the theory must long    
remain a theory only4 ,no sudden change 
of the sort could be made in practice4  
,illustration3 ,,fig4 #ae4--,,the       
,,rhode ,,island ,,tract1 ,,with ,,its  
,,buildings ,,gathered ,,into ,a        
,,compact ,,village4  ,it would not be  
impossible1 however1 to bring about the 
end in time1 if a few of the larger     
proprietors could secure possession of  
the village tract by exchange1 and would
 dedicate it to the purpose1 agreeing at
 any future time to sell small lots for 
building at a fixed low rate4 ,in the   
instance under consideration1 the       
village tract is thinly settled1 and so 
situated as to be available at moderate 
cost4 ,if a church1 a schoolhouse1 and a
 store could be established as a nucleus
 of the village1 the young couples of   

the neighborhood might incline to settle
 there2 and in time the settlement could
 be made so attractive--as compared with
 the outlying farmhouses--as to lead to 
the concentration of the whole          
population4  ,this part of the subject  
is1 however1 foreign to the present     
purpose4 ,if the desirability of village
 life for farmers can be established1   
the ways and means may safely be left to
 those interested in securing it4 ,the  
influences now at work to make the      
farmers' children seek a better social  
condition1 together with the necessity  
which confines them to some form of     
agricultural work1 must be depended on  
to secure the relief suggested1 unless  
some better relief can be found4  ,in   
this case1 as in every other of village 
construction1 the original plan should  
include some quality or feature1 which1 
while appropriate to the modest end in  
view1 will give character to the place4 
,every village has in its situation1 its
 uses1 or its origin1 some              

characteristic which may be developed   
into a leading and an attractive        
feature4 ,especially when the work is to
 be begun from the foundation1 and when 
there are no buildings to be torn down  
or removed1 a consistent and dignified  
result may be planned for at the outset4
  ,the characteristic feature of the    
village we are now considering is that  
it is to consist of a single long1      
straight street cut off at each end by  
other roads4 ,after removing one        
unimportant house1 there remains no     
obstacle to the laying-out of one       
straight street two hundred feet wide1  
with either two or four rows of         
spreading elms4 ,this street1 two       
thousand feet long1 mainly in well-kept 
grass1 with only the necessary width of 
road and the requisite paths1--having   
perhaps a well-kept and home-like       
private place opposite each of its      
ends1--would stamp the village at once  
with an attraction which would have a   
constant civilizing effect on those     

living under its influence4  ,such a    
village street1 entirely without costly 
ornamentation1 and requiring only the   
simplest care1 would soon take on a look
 of appropriate neatness and freshness2 
and1 as the trees grew1 it would acquire
 a dignity and beauty which could in no 
other way be so well secured4  ,the     
church and the schoolhouse1 being placed
 in broad recesses opposite the central 
point of the street1 would gain         
importance from their position2 and1    
these main features being attended to1  
the character of the village would be   
fixed1 and it would be difficult to make
 any arrangement of its private places  
which would spoil its beauty4 ,neatness 
and a reasonable care in the matter of  
house-gardening1 the planting of        
flower-beds1 vines1 etc41 are all that  
would be needed4  ,with so wide a       
street1 it would be as well to bring all
 house-fronts to the street line1       
completing this line with simple fences1
 and paying some attention to the       

ornamentation of the enclosed yards4    
,in this village1 as in the other1 all  
meretricious ornamentation should be    
avoided1 whether public or private4 ,all
 money available for such improvement   
should be spent in securing perfect     
neatness4 ,in fact1 the two radical     
requirements of good taste in all such  
cases are an absence of obvious         
money-spending1 and the evidence of     
constant care and attention4 ,showiness 
is common in every trumpery village in  
the land4 ,what we should seek in our   
farm-villages is the most modest        
simplicity1 shining with the polish of  
an affectionate care4 ,every spot should
 breathe of homely influences and moral 
peacefulness4  ,illustration3 ,,fig4    
#af4--,,proposed ,,arrangement ,,of     
,,the ,,rhode ,,island ,,farm ,,village4
  ,figure #af shows the general plan of 
the village4 ,if other public buildings 
are needed1 they might very well be     
placed opposite the ends of the main    
street4  ,it is not possible1 in        

remodelling an old farming district1    
where boundaries and roads are          
irregular1 to apportion the division of 
land among the population with especial 
reference to its distance from the      
village2 so1 for example1 that the small
 farmers1 who have little team-force1   
shall not have so far to go as the      
larger ones who are better equipped2    
but1 even in this case1 the most distant
 farm will be rarely a mile from the    
village1 where all the farmers1 their   
families1 and their work-people1 and    
their flocks and herds1 would be        
gathered together1 under the best       
circumstances for getting out of their  
lives as much good as the need for      
earning a living by arduous work will   
allow them to get anywhere1--more than  
they could hope to get in the isolation 
of the distant farmhouse4  ,having now  
considered the methods by which farmers 
may congregate their homes and their    
farm-buildings1 and live in villages1   
let us take up the more important       

question of policy4  ,which would be    
better for a young man1 just starting in
 life with a young wife1--to go to a    
distant farmhouse to found his home1 or 
to settle in a well-ordered farm-village
 under substantially the conditions     
described above8  ,there is much more to
 be said1 on both sides of this         
question1 than there is room to say     
here2 but certain points are worthy of  
consideration4  ,there is no doubt that 
in a strictly money-making aspect there 
is an advantage in having the animals on
 the land from which they are fed1 and  
the men on the farm which they are to   
work4 ,it is certain1 also1 that the men
 and the women must be near the stables1
 that the early and late work of feeding
 and milking may be promptly and        
regularly performed4 ,if the family is  
to live in the village1 the cattle must 
live in the village too4 ,this involves 
the hauling home of all the hay and     
grain1 and the hauling out again of all 
manure1--no slight task4 ,if the work is

 all concentrated on the farm1 under the
 immediate supervision of the farmer1   
there will be a certain convenience and 
economy of time4  ,the same principle   
holds true in all other relations4 ,the 
merchant would find a certain advantage 
in living at his warehouse1 the         
engine-builder at his factory1 the      
cotton-spinner at his mill1 the         
carpenter at his shop1 and the grocer at
 his store4 ,all of these have found    
that1 so far as may be1 they get certain
 other and greater advantages in living 
away from their business4 ,one and all  
carry to their homes1 at least          
occasionally1 books1 papers1 and plans  
for work that needs attention out of the
 regular business hours4  ,the farmer   
alone--and in this country              
especially--disregards the benefits of  
living away from his shop1 and passes   
his whole life--day and night--in close 
contact with his field of operations4   
,he might1 if he chose1 make his home   
nearer to other homes1 taking with him  

so much of his work as is not           
necessarily confined to the farm4  ,for 
his own sake1 it does not make so much  
difference2 but for the sake of his wife
 and children it makes all the          
difference between life and stagnation4 
,the business needs which call him to   
town1 and the habit he has of passing   
his evenings at the store1 give him a   
certain amount--and a certain kind--of  
social intercourse which keeps him from 
absolute rust4 ,the amount of society   
available for his family is not usually 
great1 and the dulness and confinement  
of farmhouse life need no description4  
,the main reason for preferring village 
life is principally because it is better
 for the women and children2 but there  
are reasons1 in the same direction1 why 
better social conditions would give the 
farmer himself decided benefits4 ,the   
life1 too1 would be more attractive for 
both boys and girls1 and would be       
divested of that naked and dismal gloom 
and dryness which now drive so much of  

the best farmer blood of the whole      
country to work-benches and             
counters1--to any position1 in fact1    
which promises relief from the stifling 
isolation of the country4  ,while       
conceding that1 just as a cabinet-maker 
would make more money if he lived in his
 back shop1 and had little thought from 
early dawn until late evening except for
 his work1 so the farmer may make more  
money if he lives on his farm than if he
 lives at a distance1 still it must be  
said that the difference in profit is by
 no means so great as would be supposed4
  ,it may be fairly assumed1 that1 at   
least in the more thickly settled       
farming regions at the ,east1 the       
average distance at which farmers live  
from the nearest centre of population   
that supplies their shopping1 and from  
church1 is not less than three miles4   
,the visiting acquaintance of the family
 is nearly or quite as remote2 and there
 is1 altogether1 so much driving to be  
done1 as to make it necessary to keep a 

decent carriage and horses1 and to      
supply a certain amount of extra horse  
service4 ,indeed1 among those who are   
tolerably well off it would be moderate 
to set down the total services of one   
good horse as needed to supply the      
family's demand for transportation4     
,then1 too1 the need of the farmer      
himself to go to town to sell and to    
buy1 to get repairs and information1 and
 7a much more generally gratified taste 
than he would always care to confess to 
his wife7 to satisfy his craving after  
intercourse with his kind1--who shall   
estimate the aggregate of all this      
travel1 or even of that part of it      
which1 under the pretext of business1 is
 really only an habitual going for      
gossip8 ,all of this driving is confined
 to no season2 it is perennial1--in good
 weather and in bad1--and it costs an   
amount of time and money that few       
farmers would like to put down in black 
and white1 and charge to their expense  
accounts4 ,it would form one of the most

 serious items of their budget4  ,did   
the farmer live in a pleasant and       
attractive village1 among neighbors and 
friends1 nearly all of this driving     
would be saved4 ,the appliances for the 
family's pleasure-driving might be      
entirely done away with1 for the wife   
and daughters would gladly exchange the 
means for occasional visiting and for   
distant shopping1 for an agreeable      
circle of friends near at hand and a    
good village store and post-office      
within five minutes' walk4 ,in such a   
settlement as is contemplated1 most of  
the business needs of the farmer would  
be amply supplied1 and he would find the
 companionship at hand even more        
satisfactory1 because more familiar1    
than that which he now finds in the     
town4  ,it is not worth while to        
calculate the cash saving that would    
come of this reduction of road-99work4  
,it is enough to consider it as an      
important offset to the cost of carrying
 men and manure to the field and of     

bringing crops to the village4  ,under  
the present system the women have the   
worst of it4 ,they have the confinement 
and seclusion and dulness4 ,under the   
village system the men would have the   
discomfort1 and this is why it will be  
less easy to secure its adoption2 for   
the men control1 and prefer not to have 
the heavy end of life's log to carry4   
,under either of the plans given        
herewith1 the greatest--not the         
average--distance from the house to the 
farm would be about one mile1 and it    
would have to be travelled only during  
the working weather of the warmer       
months1 and during the good wheeling of 
winter4 ,in summer1 all hands would have
 to set off early1 and come home late1  
often carrying their dinner with them as
 mechanics do2 but when field-work did  
not call them out1 as during rains1 or  
when the ground is too wet to be        
disturbed1 their barn-work and shop-work
 would be at home2 and1 all the winter  
through1 the only road-work to be done  

would be to send the teams to haul out  
the manure1 and to bring home the hay1  
which would be best stored under ,dutch 
hay-barracks in the fields when it was  
made4 ,this work would be systematic and
 simple2 and it may fairly be questioned
 whether it would not1 in many cases1   
amount to less than the cost of the     
driving that is now done1 and which in  
the village might be foregone4          
,especially would this be the case when 
all the heavy farm-work is done by oxen1
 which when idle1 instead of eating     
their heads off like horses1 are        
accumulating valuable flesh4 ,with      
sufficient ox-power to do the work      
easily1 the whole transportation of     
tools and men1 and all the hay-tedding  
and hay-raking1 would be easily done by 
one horse1 with leeway enough to allow  
for a fair amount of business or        
pleasure travel4  ,so far as the        
presence of the farmer himself is       
concerned1 it is to be considered that  
if his farm and cattle are near his     

house in the village1 he will be within 
easy reach of them very often at times  
when his visits to the distant town     
would take him away from them if they   
were on the farm4 ,in the village1      
during the whole winter1 and in bad     
weather at other seasons1 he would have 
little necessity or temptation to absent
 himself from home4 ,indeed1 those who  
have had an opportunity to watch the    
life of the exceptional farmers whose   
houses and barns and stables are in a   
village cannot have failed to notice how
 much more home-like and engaging is the
 whole farm establishment than it       
usually is in the country4 ,it is hardly
 too much to say that the few instances 
that we have1 as in the farm-villages of
 ,new ,england1 show that these         
village-living farmers are apparently   
more attentive to their home duties than
 are their isolated brethren1 at least  
in the matter of tidiness4  ,to complete
 the comparison with the merchant or    
manufacturer1 who takes his papers or   

plans home with him for work out of     
regular hours1 one might say that the   
farmer who lives at a distance from his 
land1 with his flocks and herds gathered
 about his homestead1 has such of his   
work as needs early and late attention  
close at hand1 while his regular        
workshop1 the farm1 calls him away for  
certain regular hours and regular       
duties4  ,it is not worth while here to 
enter into the details of the question4 
,they are of serious moment1 and involve
 among other things the driving of      
animals to and from pasture1 versus the 
raising of soiling crops to be fed in   
the stall or yard4 ,all of these        
questions have been satisfactorily      
solved in the experience of many        
exceptional cases in this country1 and  
of the almost universal conditions      
obtaining in ,europe4 ,they present no  
practical difficulty1 and need          
constitute no serious objection to the  
general plan4  ,the items of economical 
working and money-making being fully    

weighed1 the more serious considerations
 of the mode of life1 and the good to be
 got from it1 demand even greater       
attention4 ,it may seem a strange       
doctrine to be advanced by a somewhat   
enthusiastic farmer1 but it is a        
doctrine that has been slowly accepted  
after many years' observation1 a        
conviction that has taken possession of 
an unwilling mind1 that the young man   
who takes his young wife to an isolated 
farmhouse dooms her and himself and     
their children to an unwholesome1       
unsatisfactory1 and vacant              
existence1--an existence marked by the  
absence of those more satisfying and    
more cultivating influences which the   
best development of character and       
intelligence demand4 ,it is a common    
experience of farmers' wives to pass    
week after week without exchanging a    
word or a look with a single person     
outside of their own family circles4    
,the young couple start bravely1 and    
with a determination to struggle against

 the habit of isolation which marks     
their class4 ,but this habit has grown  
from the necessity of the situation2 and
 the necessities of their own situation 
bring them sooner or later within its   
bonds4 ,during the first few years they 
adhere to their resolution1 and go      
regularly to church1 to the lecture1 and
 to the social gatherings of their      
friends2 but home duties increase with  
time1 and the eagerness for society     
grows dull with neglect4 ,those who have
 started out with the firmest           
determination to avoid the rock on which
 their fathers have split1 give up the  
struggle at last1 and settle down to a  
humdrum1 uninteresting1 and uninterested
 performance of daily tasks4  ,in saying
 all this1--and ,i speak from           
experience1 for ,i have led the dismal  
life myself1--it is hardly necessary to 
disclaim the least want of appreciation 
of the sterling qualities which have    
been developed in the ,american farm    
household4 ,but it may be safely        

insisted that these qualities have been 
developed1 not because of the ,american 
mode of farm life1 but in spite of it2  
and1 as ,i think over the long list of  
admirable men and women whose           
acquaintance ,i have formed on distant  
and solitary farms1 ,i am more and more 
impressed with certain shortcomings     
which would have been avoided under     
better social conditions4 ,if any of    
these is disposed to question the       
justice of this conclusion1 ,i am       
satisfied to leave the final decision   
with his own judgment1 formed after a   
fair consideration of what is herein    
suggested4  ,if ,american agriculture   
has an unsatisfied need1 it is surely   
the need for more intelligence and more 
enterprising interest on the part of its
 working men and women4 ,from one end of
 the land to the other1 its crying      
defect--recognized by all--is1 that its 
best blood1 or1 in other words1 its best
 brains and its best energy1 is leaving 
it to seek other fields of labor4 ,the  

influence which leads these best of the 
farmers' sons to other occupations is   
not so much the desire to make more     
money1 or to find a less laborious      
occupation1 as it is the desire to lead 
a more satisfactory life1--a life where 
that part of us which has been developed
 by the better education and better     
civilization for which in this century  
we have worked so hard and so well1 may 
find responsive companionship and       
encouraging intercourse with others4    
,it so happens that the few farm        
villages to which we can refer--such as 
,farmington1 ,hadley1 and               
,deerfield--have become so attractive by
 means of their full-grown beauty1 or   
have been so encroached upon by the     
wealth that has come over the district  
to which they belong1 that they are no  
longer to be taken as types of pure     
country villages2 nor do ,i recall a    
single village in the land which is     
precisely what ,i have now in mind4     
,assuming that a farming                

neighborhood--two miles1 or at the      
utmost three miles1 square--had been so 
arranged as to have all of its buildings
 7with the exception of hay-barracks in 
the fields1 and cattle-shelters in the  
pastures7 in a village1 let us consider 
what would be the advantages in the     
manner of living which it would have to 
offer4  ,the social benefits1 and the   
facilities for frequent neighborly and  
informal intercourse1 are obvious4 ,to  
say nothing of the companionships and   
intimacies among the young people1 their
 fathers and mothers would be kept from 
growing old and glum by constant        
friction with their kind2 and1 in so far
 as a more satisfactory social relation 
with one's fellow-men gives cheerfulness
 and the richness of a wider human      
interest1 in that proportion would the  
village life have a wholesome1 mellowing
 effect that is not to be found in the  
remote farmhouse1 nor even in the sort  
of neighborhood we sometimes find in the
 country where several farmhouses are   

within a quarter of a mile of each      
other4 ,the habit of running in for a   
moment's chat with a neighbor is a good 
one1 and it gets but scant development  
among ,american farmers4 ,this view of  
the case will suggest itself quite      
naturally on the first consideration of 
the subject4  ,if the first need of the 
rising generation--the men and women of 
the future--is education1 then the      
village beats the farm by long odds4    
,the country school-district1 sparsely  
settled and chary of its taxes1 is apt  
to obey the law in the scantiest way    
possible4 ,three months school in winter
 and three months more in summer1 under 
the supervision--it can hardly be called
 the instruction--of a young miss who is
 by no means well educated herself1 and 
who is entirely often without training  
as a teacher1 gathers together all of   
the school-going children of a wide     
neighborhood4 ,big and little1 boys and 
girls1 are huddled together in a sort of
 mental jumble1 where the best that the 

most skilful manager can hope for is to 
regulate the instruction and the        
discipline to suit the average of the   
scholars4 ,the best result attainable is
 to secure a good amount of schooling3  
the word education would be quite       
misapplied here4  ,in the village1 the  
number of scholars would be sufficiently
 large to warrant the establishment and 
to bear the maintenance of one good     
school1 with one1 if not more1 teachers1
 regularly employed1 and worthy to be   
called teachers rather than             
school-marms4 ,pupils would be graded   
according to their ages and             
acquirements1 and a due use could be    
made of the stimulus of competition4 ,a 
real school1 a real instrument of       
education1 would take the place of the  
noisy congregation of uncontrolled boys 
and girls1 who1 in the country          
district-school1 are apt to acquire less
 of valuable learning than of the minor 
viciousness that prevails among country 
children4  ,in this connection1 ,i was  

forcibly struck with the announcement of
 a ,german farmer once in my employ1    
whose reason for leaving me1 after his  
children had reached the ages of seven  
and eleven1 to return to his little     
village in ,germany1 was that it was    
impossible in this country--and this1 be
 it remembered1 was in ,new ,england--to
 secure satisfactory instruction for    
them4 ,he thought that in their         
experience at school here they had      
gained little beyond a familiarity with 
,english1 and with a large admixture of 
bad words at that4 ,at home they would  
have1 within the elementary range of a  
primary-school education1 a thorough    
training and a severe drilling which he 
could not hope for here1 and without    
which he was unwilling that they should 
grow up4 ,i have seen his village school
 in ,germany1 and the cloud of          
tow-headed children who fill it2 and ,i 
am prepared to believe that his         
preference was not without foundation4  
,of course we have all the material for 

as good or better schools in this       
country4 ,what we need is longer terms1 
better trained and educated teachers1   
graded classes1 and better books and    
appliances4 ,these cannot be afforded in
 the small country school-district4     
,they can be had in their perfection in 
even a small village2 and this          
consideration alone1 even if this were  
all1 should be a controlling argument in
 favor of village life4  ,but this is by
 no means all4 ,another great benefit is
 to be found in the post-office near at 
hand1 with its daily mail as an         
encouragement to correspondence and to  
interest in the affairs of the outside  
world4 ,a village1 such as is here      
pictured1 could afford its weekly or    
semi-monthly public lecture1 furnishing 
a means for instruction and             
entertainment1 and for frequent         
gatherings4 ,the church1 too1 would     
probably be conducted in a more         
satisfactory way than is usual in the   
country2 and the conditions would be the

 best suited for fostering that interest
 in the collateral branches of the      
church1 the ,bible-class1 the ,sunday   
school1 and the ,dorcas society1 by     
which the women of the community get1   
aside from the other good that they     
receive and do1 advantages of a         
character somewhat corresponding to     
those which men get from their clubs4   
,i should hope further1 as an outgrowth 
from the community of living1 for a     
modest village library and reading-room4
 ,indeed1 if ,i could have my own way1  
,i should not confine the attraction and
 entertainment of the village to        
strictly moral appliances4 ,it would    
probably be wiser to recognize the fact 
that young men find an attraction in    
amusements which our sterner ancestors  
regarded as dangerous2 and ,i would not 
eschew billiards1 nor even1 by rigorous 
enactment1 the milder vice of social    
tobacco4 ,better have a little harmless 
wickedness near home and under the eye  
of parents than to encounter the risk   

that boys1 after a certain age1 would   
seek a pretext for more uncontrolled    
indulgences in the neighboring town4    
,one might go on through the long range 
of incidental arguments--such as lighted
 streets1 well-kept sidewalks1 winter   
snow-ploughs1 and good drainage1 and a  
wholesome pride in a tidy1 cosey        
village1 until even the most            
close-fisted of all our class would     
confess that the extra cost would bring 
full value in return1 and until he would
 recognize the fact that the attractions
 of such a home as the village would    
make possible would be likely to insure 
his being succeeded in his wholesome    
trade by the brightest and best of his  
sons1--a result that would surely be    
worth more than all it would cost4  ,but
 my purpose has been only to suggest a  
scheme which seems to me entirely1 even 
though remotely1 practicable1 and in    
which ,i hope for the sympathy and help 
of the country-bound farmers' wives and 
daughters1--a scheme which promises what

 seems the easiest1 if not the only1    
relief for the dulness and desolation of
 living which make ,american farming    
loathsome to so many who ought to glory 
in its pursuit1 but who now are only    
bound to it by commanding necessity4    
,,life ,,and ,,work ,,of ,,the ,,eastern
 ,,farmer4   ,we are all familiar with  
the lavish praise bestowed--especially  
when votes are to be secured--upon the  
bone and sinew of the country2 but the  
farmers themselves are very far from    
accepting as true1 even if sincere1 the 
estimate of their qualities which the   
editor and the public speaker so loudly 
profess4  ,the average farmer is        
precisely what any other average man    
would be who had grown up under the same
 conditions4 ,there is no mysterious    
charm belonging to his occupation which 
removes him beyond the reach of the     
influences by which all mankind are     
controlled4 ,coming from the same       
original stock and inheriting the same  
peculiarities of race1 he is essentially

 the same as men in other vocations4    
,the character of his work1 the         
necessities of his financial condition1 
and the social surroundings amid which  
he has been reared1 have had the same   
influence in moulding his character that
 similar conditions have had in moulding
 the characters of others4  ,farming is 
in a certain sense the basis of all     
individual and national prosperity2 but 
the case would be more fairly stated    
were we to say that farming happens to  
be the first step in an industrial      
process1 many steps of which are alike  
essential to civilization4 ,the farmer  
produces raw material1 and without raw  
material the world must come to a stop2 
but the butcher1 the baker1 the spinner1
 the weaver1 and every artisan1 render  
as essential service in the development 
of this raw material into the forms     
demanded by modern life1 as does the    
farmer in growing it4  ,as a member of  
the farmer class1 ,i hasten to disclaim 
for it any especial consideration given 

it because of its contribution to the   
welfare of mankind4 ,we are as useful as
 any other hard-working people1 no more 
and no less4 ,we claim no higher        
appreciation for muscular effort exerted
 in swinging the flail than for that    
applied to the wielding of the hammer4  
,the controlling motive of a farmer in  
performing his work and carrying on his 
business is the hope of material gain4  
,he works for the money that he expects 
to earn1 and not with any conscious     
reference to the service he is rendering
 to the world4 ,in this capacity as a   
farmer he is neither a philanthropist   
nor a patriot1 only a man of business4  
,if we wish properly to estimate his    
character and his value as a factor of  
modern civilization1 we must not be     
misled by sentimental considerations as 
to his relation with nature and his     
noble occupation4  ,the conditions of   
,eastern farming and of ,eastern farm   
life are the true index1 as they are the
 true cause1 of the character of the    

,eastern farmer4 ,these conditions are  
constantly varying1 and their effect is 
always modified by individual qualities4
  ,it may be possible to strike such an 
average as shall afford a tolerably good
 suggestion of the real character and   
condition of the farmer1 and a hint as  
to his future2 that is to say1 certain  
prevalent influences tend to mark the   
type1 and certain modifications of these
 influences may lead to its improvement4
 ,any attempt to portray the class as a 
whole would be met by such a list of    
exceptions as would seriously affect the
 result2 but the following may be       
considered true in a large number of    
cases1 and applicable1 with minor       
changes1 to many more4  ,let us take the
 case of an outlying farm in ,new       
,england1 of one hundred acres1--a farm 
that has been in cultivation from the   
earlier settlement of the country1 and  
which is of the average degree of       
improvement1 with the usual division    
into arable1 mowing1 pasture1 and wood  

land4 ,it lies two or three miles away  
from a considerable town or village1 and
 its chief industry is the selling of   
milk in the town4 ,with an allowance of 
two acres per cow for summer pasture1   
and of one and a half acres of          
mowing-land for winter feeding1 the cows
 it keeps number about a dozen4 ,for    
team-work on the farm and for road-work 
and pleasure-driving1 there are kept two
 horses and two oxen4 ,in addition to   
these there will be a greater or less   
amount of young stock and the usual     
swine and poultry1 and perhaps a few    
sheep4 ,the farmer himself is the chief 
workman on the place1 and he has the    
regular help of a hired man or a grown  
son4 ,an extra hand during the working  
season is usual2 but in winter the      
farmer and his one assistant will do all
 of the work of feeding1 milking1       
delivering the milk1 hauling out manure1
 etc4  ,a few years ago the housework   
was done almost entirely by the mother  
of the family and her daughters1 or by a

 girl taken to bring up2 but latterly   
the more troublesome element of an      
,irish girl in the kitchen has become   
general1 for the daughter of the farmer 
has aspirations and tastes which        
disqualify her for efficient household  
drudgery4 ,in spite of all modern       
appliances1 much of the work of the     
farmer's household must be so           
characterized4 ,the life of ,american   
farm women is1 however1 not now under   
discussion3 the subject is a fruitful   
one1 and has important bearings upon the
 development of the race2 but what we   
are to consider here is simply the work 
and condition of the farmer himself4    
,the milk-selling farmer--and this      
industry is one of the most wide-spread 
in ,eastern farming--is more regularly  
employed than any other4 ,winter and    
summer his cows must be milked twice a  
day4 ,evening's milk must be cooled and 
safely kept until morning2 and morning's
 milk must be ready for early delivery4 
,it is usual for the farmer to rise at  

three every morning1 winter and summer1 
to milk his cows1--with one             
assistant1--and to start as early as    
five o'clock to deliver his milk4       
,returning about the middle of the      
forenoon1 he is able to attend to the   
details of barn-work in winter and      
field-work in summer1 until half-past   
two or three o'clock in the afternoon1  
less the brief interval needed for the  
consumption of food4 ,early in the      
afternoon the cows must be again milked1
 and the cans of milk must in summertime
 be set in spring water for cooling4    
,then comes the feeding of the stock and
 the greasing of axles1 the mending of  
harness1 the repairing of tools1 and the
 thousand and one odds and ends of the  
farmer's irregular work4 ,in the winter1
 save for the early rising and the work 
of cold mornings1 life is by no means   
hurried2 and after a very early supper  
there is often a stroll to the corner   
store or to a neighbor's house1 for a   
little wholesome idleness and           

gossip1--the latter not invariably      
wholesome4 ,at about the hour when the  
average reader of ,the ,atlantic has    
finished his after-dinner cigar1 all    
lights are extinguished1 and the farm   
household is wrapped in heavy slumber2  
for such early rising as the milk-farmer
 is condemned to must needs trench upon 
the valuable evening hours for requisite
 rest and sleep4  ,in summer the        
conditions of life are immeasurably     
hardened4 ,the farmer himself is        
necessarily absent several hours every  
morning with his milk-wagon2 but1       
although he cannot lend a hand at the   
early field work1 this work must go on  
with promptness1 and he must arrange in 
advance for its proper performance4     
,from the moment when he has finished   
his late breakfast until the last       
glimmer of twilight1 he is doomed to    
harrowing and often anxious toil4 ,there
 is no wide margin of profit that will  
admit of a slackening of the pace4 ,land
 must be prepared for planting2 planting

 must be done when the condition of the 
ground and the state of the weather     
permit4 ,weeds grow without regard to   
our convenience1 and they must be kept  
down from the first2 and well on into   
the intervals of the hay-harvest the    
corn-field needs all of the cultivation 
that there is time for4 ,regularly as   
clock-work1 in the late hours of the    
night and the early hours of the        
afternoon1 the milking must be attended 
to2 and the daily trip to town knows no 
exception because of heat1 rain1 or     
snow4 ,at rigidly fixed hours this part 
of the work must be done2 and all other 
hours of the growing and of the harvest 
seasons are almost more than filled with
 work of imperative need4 ,these alone  
seem to make a sufficient demand on the 
patience and endurance of the most      
industrious farmer2 but1 aside from     
these1 he is loaded with the endless    
details of an intricate business1 and   
with the responsibility of the          
successful management of a capital of   

from fifteen to twenty thousand dollars1
 upon the safety and the economical     
management of which his success entirely
 depends2 he must avoid leakage and     
waste1 and make every dollar paid for   
labor1 or seed1 or manure1 or live      
stock1 bring its adequate return4       
,probably no occupation in the world can
 compare with farming in the opportunity
 that it offers for the losing of money4
 ,nothing is so enticing as             
slate-and-pencil farming4 ,ten acres of 
land can be ploughed1 manured1 and      
planted with corn1 and the crop can be  
well cultivated and harvested for so    
many dollars4 ,such land with such      
manuring and cultivation may be trusted 
to yield so many bushels of corn to the 
acre2 and1 after making due allowance   
for chance1 the balance of the          
calculation shows a snug profit4 ,in    
like manner we may figure out a         
corresponding return from the           
hay-fields1 from the root-crops1 from   
two or three acres of potatoes1 and from

 a patch of garden-truck for which the  
neighboring village will furnish a good 
market4 ,then the poultry will return a 
profitable income in eggs and in        
broilers2 and altogether it is easy for 
an enthusiastic person to show how      
interest on invested capital and good   
compensation for labor are to be secured
 in agriculture4  ,but when the test of 
practice is applied to our well-studied 
and proven scheme2 when we see how far  
our allowance for chances has fallen    
below what is needed to cover the       
contingencies of late springs1 dry      
summers1 early frosts1 grasshoppers1    
wire-worms1 ,colorado beetles1 midge1   
weevil1 pip1 murrain1 garget1           
milk-fever1 potato-rot1 oats-rust1      
winter-killing1 and all the rest2 when  
we learn the degree of vigilance needed 
to keep every minute of hired labor and 
team-work effectively employed2 and when
 we come finally to the items of low    
markets and bad debts1--we shall see how
 far these and similar drawbacks have   

undone our arithmetic1 and how often our
 well-contrived balance must be taken   
into the footings of the other column of
 figures4  ,the regular work of the     
farmer1 as indicated in the foregoing   
sketch of his occupations1 and as       
perceptible to the summer boarder who   
watches his work from the piazza1       
although arduous and exacting1 may be   
quite compatible with a happy life2 and1
 when we estimate the promise of the    
occupation as offering a pleasant       
livelihood1 no able-bodied man need be  
deterred by it4 ,but when we add this   
long list of contingencies1 and consider
 the ceaseless anxiety that they bring1 
we may well hesitate before adopting    
such a life for ourselves or desiring it
 for our children4 ,no true estimate of 
the developed character of the farmer   
can be formed without giving due value  
to this uncertain factor in the         
calculation4  ,instances are hardly     
exceptional where a clear natural       
intelligence1 an indomitable courage1   

and great industry1 have turned         
themselves into a real source of mental 
and moral strength4 ,success achieved in
 spite of such drawbacks is all the     
sweeter and all the more inspiriting    
because of them4 ,but if we take the    
case of the average farmer with average 
human weaknesses1 we cannot fail to see1
 that1 however well he may have borne up
 against the more obvious requirements  
of his work1 he has been warped and     
cramped1 and often made in many ways    
unlovely1 by the hard and anxious toil  
through which his halting success has   
been attained4  ,in nearly every other  
occupation than farming1 the hardest    
worker finds a daily relief from his    
toil1 and from the suggestion of toil1  
in a home that is entirely apart from   
his industry4 ,however arduous and      
anxious and long-continued the work1    
there comes a time when it is laid      
aside1 and when the workman goes into a 
new sphere1 where the atmosphere is     
entirely changed4 ,his home is a place  

of rest and pleasure1 or at least a     
place of change4 ,the pen and the hammer
 are left in the counting-room and in   
the shop2 and1 however far the home may 
fall below his desires and ambition1 it 
is at least free from the cares of the  
day's occupation4  ,the ,american farmer
 has no such relief4 ,his house is a    
part of his farm2 his fireside is shared
 by an uncongenial hired man1 his family
 circle includes too often a vulgar and 
uninteresting servant2 and from one year
 to another1 his living-room being the  
kitchen and work-room of the busy       
farmhouse1 he rarely knows what it is to
 divest himself of the surroundings of  
his labor and business1 and to give     
himself over to the needed domestic     
enjoyment and recreation4 ,it is this   
feature of his life1 more than any      
other1 which seems objectionable4 ,if it
 is objectionable for him1 it is        
infinitely more so for his wife and     
daughters1 who1 lacking the frequent    
visit to the town or occasional chat    

with strangers1 and the invigorating    
effect of open-air work1 yield all the  
more completely to depressing cares4    
,they become more and more deficient in 
the lightness and cheerfulness and      
mental gayety to which in any other     
occupation the chief toiler of the      
family would look for recreation at his 
own fireside4  ,so far as interest in   
his business is concerned1 the farmer's 
condition is in every way elevated when 
he devotes himself to some improved form
 of agriculture1 or to some special     
industry which gives him better         
compensation for his work4 ,this benefit
 by no means generally results from an  
attempt at scientific agriculture1 nor  
is the adoption of a special industry by
 any means generally successful4        
,failure in either of these directions  
is disheartening and discouraging to    
those who are watching his example4     
,there are many well-tried improvements 
upon the old methods of our fathers     
which are universally adopted1          

especially in the direction of the use  
of better implements and more judicious 
care in the application of manure4 ,but 
the average agricultural newspaper1     
while doing great good1 has naturally   
led enthusiastic men to see a chance for
 ameliorating their condition by the    
adoption of processes which are not     
suited to their circumstances1 or which 
they themselves are not qualified to    
carry out4 ,it is this that has led to  
the outcry--much more prevalent a       
generation ago than now--against        
book-farming4 ,on the whole1 whatever   
may have been the influences of         
agricultural writers upon the fortunes  
of their early converts1 they have      
vastly modified and improved all modern 
farm-work1 and have greatly benefited   
the more recent farmer4  ,the conditions
 of the industry are hard1 chiefly      
because the business of farming is a    
laborious one1 and one in which an      
enormous population is working1 with    
dogged industry1 for a moderate reward4 

,however enterprising and intelligent a 
farmer may be1 when he goes to market to
 sell his crops he finds himself in     
active competition with men who are     
working for their bare subsistence4     
,much is said about the competition of  
the farmers of the rich ,west as a      
serious obstacle to success at the      
,east4 ,this is the case only in so far 
as the ,eastern farmer attempts to      
compete with the ,western in the        
production of crops which will bear     
storage and long transportation4 ,as a  
business proposition1 it seems clear    
that this drawback is to be overcome    
only by the cultivation at the ,east of 
such products as it is not within the   
power of ,western competition to supply1
 or only such as our situation and the  
good quality of our land will enable us 
to produce at low cost4 ,milk1 fresh    
butter1 and hay are the three most      
promising staples1 for which so large a 
demand exists as to furnish employment  
for the whole farming population4 ,hay  

from its bulk does not bear a very long 
transportation4 ,milk will always bring 
a higher price when produced near to the
 point where it is to be consumed4      
,butter-making is not an especially     
profitable industry if we depend upon   
the average grocery-store demand2 but it
 is possible for any farmer at the      
,east1 who will take the trouble to make
 and to retain a good reputation for his
 dairy1 to secure a price enough higher 
than that of the regular market to      
constitute a good margin of profit4  ,so
 far as relief in ,eastern farming is to
 be achieved with no material change in 
the character of life and work1 it must 
apparently be sought in these           
directions4 ,in his relation to ,eastern
 civilization1 past1 present1 and       
prospective1 it may fairly be questioned
 whether the influence of the ,eastern  
farmer is increased since the general   
introduction of railroads2 and we are   
justified in looking with some anxiety  
to the relative position which he is to 

hold hereafter4  ,there are well-known  
influences at work which are not        
promising4 ,the desire of the sons and  
daughters of the farmer to obtain some  
other means of livelihood1 and the too  
frequent yielding to this temptation on 
the part of the more intelligent of     
these young persons1 is the most obvious
 danger to the future of the industry4  
,much has been said of the dignity and  
independence which come of the ownership
 of land2 but it is possible that this  
influence has been over-estimated1 and  
that our ideas of it have been derived  
more or less from our ,european         
traditions4 ,perhaps1 after all1 we     
ought to and do attach the most         
importance to that which is the most    
rare4 ,in ,england1 where the ownership 
of land carries with it a certain social
 dignity1 and where the mere possession 
of money has a less marked influence in 
this direction1 there is no doubt that  
the title-deeds to broad acres          
constitute a certain sort of patent of  

nobility4 ,in this country1 where land  
is plenty and cheap and where large     
fortunes are rare1 a farmer gets        
consideration less for the amount of    
land that he himself owns1 than for the 
sum-total of the mortgages which he     
holds upon his neighbors' land4 ,that is
 to say1 it is better to be rich in     
money than in land2 and instances are   
comparatively rare1 even among those who
 are cultivating their ancestral acres1 
where the farm would not be gladly sold 
for a sum of which the income would     
secure a better and easier mode of life4
 ,the farm is not regarded with especial
 affection3 it is mainly regarded--along
 with its stock and tools--as an        
instrument for making money4  ,the      
,american farmer is distinguished from  
the ,english farmer chiefly by having   
his capital invested in the land which  
he cultivates1 rather than in the tools 
and live stock and working capital      
needed to carry on his business4 ,as a  
general rule the farmer's whole fortune 

is invested in his land4 ,often his farm
 is mortgaged1 and he has little loose  
money with which to improve his system  
of work4 ,the necessity for making a    
living and paying interest1 without     
sufficient capital for the best         
management1 makes the life of the farmer
 too often a grinding one4 ,if he is    
skilful and industrious and prudent1 he 
may hope with certainty to free himself 
from debt1 and to accumulate a          
respectable support for his old age4    
,when we consider any class of working  
people1 as a class1 this is perhaps all 
that we can hope for under any          
circumstances4 ,the unhopeful thing     
about it all is that while farmers work 
less hard than their fathers did1 and   
while they get a better return for their
 work1 the surroundings of their life   
have not improved as have those of men  
engaged in other industries1 so that    
although actually much better off than  
their ancestors were1 they are          
relatively less well off in the more    

attractive conditions of other classes  
of workmen2 and this deficiency is      
driving away the children on whom they  
ought to depend for assistance and for  
succession4  ,in the abstract1 farming  
is a dignified occupation1 and in       
proportion as it borrows aid from       
science it becomes more dignified4 ,so  
far as the casual observer can see1 it  
combines more of what is desirable than 
does any other pursuit4 ,while it       
promises no brilliant reward1 it insures
 a steady1 reliable1 and sufficient     
return for the capital and labor        
invested in it4 ,it promises a sure     
provision for old age1 and it secures   
the wholesome pride that comes of the   
ownership of visible property4 ,indeed1 
look at it and argue about it as we may1
 it is not easy to see why it is not the
 best occupation for a wholesome and    
intelligent man4  ,those who know the   
condition of the art intimately1 and who
 have studied the influences of its work
 and its life upon those who are engaged

 in it1 recognize serious drawbacks     
which must in some way be removed unless
 it is to fall away still more from its 
original character1 and is to be given  
over to ,german and ,irish immigrants1  
who1 during one or two generations1 will
 be contented with what it has to offer4
 ,it is difficult even to theorize as to
 the means of relief1 if farming must be
 considered1 first of all1 as a means   
for obtaining a livelihood and for      
making money2 and no effort to improve  
the situation of the farmer will be     
successful which does not keep this     
prime necessity always in view4 ,it is  
easy to see how the condition of any    
farmer's family might be improved by a  
large additional income2 but there is no
 obvious source from which this increase
 is to be drawn1 nor will he adopt any  
scheme that will endanger the income    
that he now receives4  ,if we could     
convert the farmer into a chemist and   
physiologist1 and give him the          
satisfaction that comes of controlling  

the combinations of physical and        
chemical materials according to laws    
which he understands1 and of securing   
his results with scientific accuracy1 we
 should accomplish our purpose2 for no  
man with such scientific knowledge1     
realizing its relation to his daily     
work1 could fail of an enthusiastic     
fondness for his profession4 ,but the   
worst of it is that all efforts in this 
direction have generally ended in       
producing a smatterer1 whose theories   
are baffled by constant disappointment1 
and whose worldly prosperity is lessened
 by his mistaken experiments4           
,successful farming implies1 first of   
all1 steady and dogged hard work1       
coupled with prudent and watchful skill4
 ,when the hopes of enthusiastic        
agricultural reformers are considered   
with the practical eye of cold common   
sense1 they must inevitably be condemned
 to disappointment4 ,in so far as they  
constitute an incentive towards         
improvement1 they work great good2 but  

the success of the future is to be      
attained too often through the          
distressing failure of the present4 ,the
 art is an experimental one1 and the    
temptations to extend experiments are   
enticing4 ,unfortunately1 novel         
processes depend for their success upon 
contingencies which are likely to be    
disregarded at the outset2 and1 however 
much any improvement may be destined to 
prosper after its application shall have
 been practically tested and modified1  
it is altogether likely that its first  
introduction will result in failure4    
,the mere money losses coming of these  
failures are not so serious2 but the    
discouragement and disappointment that  
they entail exert the gravest influence 
where what is chiefly needed is the     
encouragement of success4  ,it is       
something to know the direction that    
improving effort should take2 and it    
seems to be generally conceded that what
 ,american agriculture needs1 at the    
,east and at the ,west1 but especially  

at the ,east1 is an improvement in the  
character of its personnel4 ,there is   
everywhere ample opportunity for the    
profitable and successful introduction  
of modified processes and of new        
industries4 ,there is1 too1 hardly an   
instance where the processes and        
industries now pursued are not          
susceptible of great improvement of     
detail4 ,there are few farms so well    
managed and so successful1 that if given
 into the hands of better1 more         
intelligent1 and more enterprising      
farmers1 they would not produce better  
results4 ,the father is working         
according to his light1 and is directing
 his work by such intelligence as his   
natural capacity and his training have  
given him4 ,his brighter son1 with more 
natural intelligence1 with a better     
education1 and less trammelled by       
traditions and prejudices1 might so     
modify the same industry as to make it  
more certain1 more profitable1 and in   
every way more satisfactory4  ,the      

change that is now taking place1        
especially in ,new ,england1 is toward  
the greater economy of living1 and the  
harder work and closer management of    
business1 that comes with immigrant     
proprietorship2 and this element is by  
no means to be depended upon for the    
improvement of our farming4 ,it may     
result in a more money-making           
agriculture1 but it will supplant our   
best political element by the           
introduction of what has thus far seemed
 to be one of the worst4  ,look at this 
question as we will1 it is difficult to 
see how else than by improving the race 
of ,american farmers we are to          
accomplish any result whose good effect 
will be radical and lasting4 ,this      
brings us around to that threadbare     
subject of the vague discussion of      
agricultural writers3 ,how to keep the  
boys on the farm4  ,the devices         
recommended for accomplishing this      
result have thus far failed of their    
object4 ,the average farmer boy is not a

 sentimentalist1 and he is not likely to
 be moved by the sort of talk so often  
lavished upon him4 ,to use a vulgarism1 
he has an extremely level head4 ,he     
fails to realize the attraction and the 
dignity which are implied by what he is 
told of the nobleness of his father's   
calling1 of the purifying and elevating 
influences of a daily intercourse with  
nature4 ,he is not to be caught with    
this sort of chaff4 ,his cultivation has
 not been of that aesthetic character   
that he has an especial drawing toward  
nobleness1 or purity1 or elevation4     
,nature1 as he knows it1 shows at times 
an unattractive side2 and he fails to   
recognize precisely what is meant by    
,mother ,earth as a source of dignity4  
,to him ,mother ,earth is an exacting   
parent1 calling for constant and regular
 toil1 and whipping him on day by day   
with weeds to be hoed1 dry gardens to be
 watered1 snowdrifts to be shovelled1   
and an almost endless round of          
embarrassments to be overcome4 ,as for  

the purity and simplicity of the        
farmer's life1 he knows very much better
 than to pin his faith to it4 ,to him   
the farmer's house is too often a place 
where the mother is overworked1 tired1  
wearied with constant annoyance1 and    
made peevish and fretful4 ,the          
conversation of hired men and young     
neighbors and brothers is not marked by 
refined delicacy and simplicity1 as he  
understands these terms4 ,at the end of 
all our preaching he will say1 at least 
to himself1 that this is probably the   
sort of talk that we consider           
appropriate to the occasion1 but that1  
if we knew what he knows about farming1 
we should see how little effect it is   
likely to have4 ,if he sought our motive
 in saying it1 he would conclude that we
 were interested in keeping up the      
supply of farm labor2 and that so far as
 he was concerned1 since he must work   
for a living1 he would work at some     
other industry if he could get a chance1
 and leave those who were less fortunate

 to work on the farm4  ,the more        
sentimental and more influential        
considerations governing in this matter 
were very well set forth by ,dr4        
,holland in a paper on ,farm ,life in   
,new ,england1 published in ,the        
,atlantic ,monthly some twenty years    
ago4 ,while acknowledging the frequency 
of bright exceptions to the rule1 he    
does not hesitate to set it down as a   
rule that the life described is in every
 way a hateful one2 where every member  
of the family1 from father to child1 is 
driven by the lash of stern necessity1  
and where many conditions which are     
deemed requisite in the life of all     
other classes of the same wealth are    
comparatively rare2 where the expectant 
mother of the child is worked without   
stint to her last day1 while the mother 
of the colt is relieved from all hard   
toil and treated with consideration     
throughout the last months of her time2 
where1 in short1 whether from interest  
or from a mistaken idea of necessity1   

hard work long hours1 poor food1 and    
dismal surroundings are the rule of the 
farmer's household4  ,since that time   
there have been noticeable              
modifications1 involving the            
introduction of more or less            
tastefulness1 because of the cheap      
literature and cheap music of these     
later days4 ,but1 much as these have    
done to affect the individual characters
 of the younger members of the family1  
they have only aggravated the evil1 so  
far as farm-work is concerned1 by       
creating a desire1 born of knowledge1   
for the pleasanter manner of life which 
the town has to offer4 ,the young girls 
whom one now sees about railway stations
 in the most distant part of the country
 are dressed after the instructions of  
,harper's ,bazar and ,peterson's        
,magazine2 and they know more than their
 older sisters did of the difference    
between their own life and that of their
 city cousins4 ,they are certainly not  
to be blamed if they long for some      

vocation in which they can more freely  
indulge their growing ideas of luxury1  
and gratify their growing desire for    
better dress and more interesting       
companionship4  ,all that has here been 
said is seriously true and important4   
,the circumstances described are so     
generally prevalent as to constitute1   
with constant minor variations1 an      
almost universal rule4 ,where we are to 
look for relief1 is the most serious    
problem4 ,relief must be found1 or the  
character of our farming class must     
assuredly degenerate4 ,in one way or    
another we must change1 in a radical    
degree1 the conditions of the farmer's  
life4 ,we can perfectly understand why  
it should be distasteful to any young   
person of ordinary ambition or          
intelligence2 and we know1 from the     
constant flocking of farmers' sons and  
daughters to even the least attractive  
employments of the town or village1 that
 this distaste is everywhere a          
controlling one4  ,it is easy to say    

that the farmer's life must be made more
 cheerful1 attractive1 and refined1 and 
less arduous2 but it is by no means easy
 to see how the improvement is to be    
brought about4 ,the cardinal defect is  
the loneliness and dulness of the       
isolated farmhouse4 ,intelligent and    
educated young women1 brought up among  
the pleasantest surroundings1 marry     
young farmers1 and undertake their new  
life with the determination that1 in    
their case at least1 the more obvious   
social requirements shall be met4       
,during the earlier years after marriage
 they adhere to their resolution1 and   
are regular in attendance at the church 
and public lecture2 and they keep up1 so
 far as possible1 social intercourse    
with their neighbors4 ,but as time goes 
on1 as the family increases1 as toil    
begins to tell on health and strength   
and energy1 they drop out1 little by    
little1 from the habit of going abroad1 
until often for weeks together they     
never exchange a look or thought with   

any human being outside of their own    
households4 ,aside from the overworked  
members of their own families1 their    
companionship is confined to hired men  
who smell of the stable1 and to hired   
girls with whom they are yoked in the   
daily round of household duties4        
,having given much consideration to the 
subject1 ,i have come to believe that   
the agriculture of ,continental ,europe 
is far more wisely arranged than ours2  
for there1 almost as a universal rule1  
isolated farm-life is unknown4 ,the     
reward of the cultivator is less1 and   
his labor is at least as great4 ,the    
people are of a very much lower order1  
and are lacking in the cultivated       
intelligence which distinguishes so many
 of our own farming class4 ,women and   
even young girls perform rude labor in  
the field and in the stable2 and those  
aspirations which are born of a         
universal diffusion of periodical       
literature are almost unknown4 ,at the  
same time1 when the hard and long day's 

work is over1 there comes to all the    
inexpressible relief and delight of the 
active social intercourse of the        
village1 where the tillers of the       
country for a mile around have gathered 
together their homes and their herds1   
and where the most intimate social life 
prevails4  ,observation even indicates  
that the habit of out-of-door labor has 
had no injurious effect upon the women  
of these villages4 ,the nut-brown maid  
grows too fast into the wrinkled-brown  
woman2 but better a sunburnt and        
weather-beaten cheek than that pallor   
that comes of anthracite and in-door    
toil4 ,better the broad back and stout  
limb of the peasant mother than the     
hollow chest and wasted energy of the   
,american farmer's wife4  ,i by no means
 intend to say that our own farming     
class is not far superior to the        
peasantry of ,europe2 but ,i do believe 
that if a good system of village life   
for farmers could be adopted here under 
the modifying influences of the more    

refined and intelligent ,american       
character1 we should have gained a most 
important step in advance4 ,we have in  
,new ,england many villages almost      
exclusively of farmers1--villages where 
the old-time settlers gathered together 
for defence against the ,indians1 and   
for the protection of houses and stock  
and store from river floods4 ,these     
villages are as different as it is      
possible to conceive from the ordinary  
,european cluster of unattractive       
cottages1 lining both sides of a street 
which is filled for one-half of its     
width with manure-heaps4 ,it may be     
naturally assumed that any adaptation of
 the village system among us would be   
governed by the same refining influences
 which have made our few existing       
agricultural villages so beautiful and  
attractive4  ,that which most           
distinguishes ,american people is the   
general spread of education among them2 
but it is1 after all1 an education which
 soon reaches its limit1 and1 so far as 

the district-school of a                
sparsely-settled country neighborhood is
 concerned1 it goes little beyond the   
simplest rudiments4 ,an inexperienced   
young miss holds school for not more    
than one-half the year in an            
unattractive and inconvenient room1 in  
which are gathered together most of the 
boys and girls of the school-going age  
from all the farms about4 ,the books and
 other appliances of instruction are    
inadequate4 ,there is no grading of the 
pupils1 and the frequent change of      
teachers prevents the possibility of    
experienced instructions4 ,even in the  
meanest peasant village of ,germany1 a  
village always prolific in children1 an 
inexorable law compels all between the  
ages of five and fourteen to attend     
regularly the teaching of a master1 an  
officer of the state1 who has generally 
adopted his profession for life1 and who
 adds to a certain specified degree of  
capability the advantages of long       
experience4  ,no thoughtful person can  

fail to be convinced1 after a due       
consideration of the argument in its    
favor1 that1 if the social influences   
inseparable from village-life could be  
secured to the ,american farmer1 the    
greatest drawback of his life would be  
done away with4 ,it remains1            
unfortunately1 a serious question1 how  
far such a radical change is            
practicable4 ,there is little doubt that
 the family would naturally drift into  
some more costly style of living2 and   
the necessity for hauling to a distant  
home all the crops of the fields1 and of
 hauling out the manure made at the     
homestead1 would add somewhat to the    
expenses of the business4  ,in the case 
of the individual farmer now cultivating
 land upon which he lives1 it is not    
unlikely that he would find a certain   
pecuniary disadvantage in the change4   
,but1 as a broad question of the future 
benefit of our agriculture1 it must be  
conceded that whatever will tend to make
 the occupation more attractive cannot  

fail1 by enlisting the services of more 
intelligent minds1 to insure its very   
decided improvement4 ,as the case now   
stands1 the farmer's son will become a  
clerk or a mechanic rather than remain a
 farmer1 because clerks and mechanics   
live in communities where there is more 
to interest the mind1 and where1 too1   
the opportunities for enjoyment and     
amusement are greater4 ,the farmer's    
daughter will marry the clerk or the    
mechanic rather than a farmer1 because  
she knows the life of a farmer's wife to
 be a life of dulness and dearth1 while 
she believes that the wife of the clerk 
or mechanic will be condemned to less   
arduous labor1 and will have much more  
agreeable surroundings4 ,i have no means
 of judging what may have been the      
experience in ,deerfield1 ,mass41 for   
instance2 but ,i am confident that many 
a mechanic's daughter1 and indeed many  
young women of much higher position in  
life1 would consider her lot a fortunate
 one in becoming the wife of a farmer   

whose homestead lay on the beautiful    
street of this old village4  ,all that  
is here said is1 to a certain extent1   
mere theory2 but the subject is one that
 has not thus far met any practical     
solution1 and in which1 therefore1      
nothing except theorizing is possible4  
,the broad fact is that the farming     
class in this country is degenerating by
 the withdrawal of its best blood2 and  
still more serious injury is being done 
to it by the introduction of the lower  
class of foreigners4 ,it may well be    
doubted whether it is possible so to    
modify the manner of life of the        
isolated farmhouse as to make it        
materially more attractive to ,american 
boys and girls4 ,all that can be done is
 to rob it of its isolation by          
withdrawing its people1 and placing them
 under better conditions of life4  ,in a
 word1 the only way that seems to offer 
to keep the boys on the farm is to move 
everybody off of the farm1 bringing them
 together into snug little communities1 

where they may secure1 without          
abandoning the manifest advantages of   
their occupation1 the greater social    
interest and stimulus which they now    
hope to enjoy by going into other       
callings whose natural advantages are   
less4 ,that such a course as this would 
restore the farmer to his former        
position as a leading element in        
,eastern civilization1 cannot be        
questioned4 ,that he will retain even   
the relative influence that he exercises
 to-day1 unless some radical change is  
made1 is at least very doubtful4  ,in   
considering the questions here          
suggested1 we must never lose sight of  
the fact that the controlling element is
 economy4 ,the farmer exists because he 
is needed4 ,the world demands the       
products that he produces1 and the world
 must needs pay him a living            
compensation for them4 ,no change will  
be possible which disregards this2 and  
all who know the present circumstances  
which control the reward of the farming 

class know that these circumstances     
would be inadequate to maintain him in a
 life of greater ease1 while calling for
 greater expense4 ,this gives the added 
embarrassment that we must not only     
change the mode of life1 but must also  
increase the ratio of profit1 if this is
 possible4 ,this is possible only       
through a reduction of the area         
cultivated1 the cultivation of this     
reduced area in a more thorough and     
profitable way1 and the turning of      
farming industry into channels better   
adapted to securing a profitable return4
  ,to discuss a modification of the     
whole system of farming would involve   
far more detail than is possible in this
 paper1 since such a discussion must    
include the consideration of features   
which would change with changing        
locality2 but1 by way of illustration1  
we may take the previously supposed case
 of a farmer owning one hundred acres of
 land1 and milking a dozen cows1 selling
 the milk as before in the distant town4

 ,assume that he and his neighbors      
within a radius of about a mile are     
living in a central village1 from which 
his land is one mile distant4 ,during   
the working season1 say from the middle 
of ,april until late in ,october1 he    
must1 with his teams and assistants1    
spend the whole day on the land4 ,the   
cows are milked and all stable work done
 before breakfast1 and some one drives  
them out to pasture4 ,the men remain    
a-field until an hour before sunset4    
,they must be content with a cold       
dinner1 as is the usual custom with     
mechanics and laborers4 ,the cows are   
driven home in time for the evening     
milking1 and are put into the barnyard  
at night with green fodder brought home 
by the returning teams4 ,after the      
chores are done1 and a hearty and       
substantial supper is eaten1--the       
principal meal of the day1--all hands   
will be too weary for much enjoyment of 
the evening1 but not so weary that they 
will not appreciate the difference      

between the lounging places of a village
 and the former dulness at the farm4    
,other farmers in the neighborhood will1
 many of them1 also be milk producers2  
and1 as the stables are near together1  
they will naturally co-operate1 sending 
their milk to market with a single team1
 employing the services of a single man 
in the place of five or six men and     
teams heretofore needed to market the   
same milk4 ,i have recently received an 
account of this sort of co-operation1   
where the cost of selling was reduced to
 a fraction over eight cents for each   
hundred quarts4  ,this arrangement will 
have the still further benefit of       
allowing the farmer to remain at home   
and attend to his more important work1  
leaving the detail of marketing to be   
done by a person especially qualified   
for it and therefore able to do it more 
cheaply than he could do it in person4  
,during the working season there will be
 enough rainy weather to allow the work 
of the stable1 the barnyard1 and the    

woodshed to be properly attended to4    
,there will of course be sudden showers 
and occasional storms1 and other        
inconveniences1 which will make the     
farmer regret at times that he lives at 
such a distance from his field work2 but
 he will find more than compensation in 
the advantages that come naturally from 
living in a village4  ,for his wife and 
children the improvement will be        
absolute2 and it will be no slight      
argument in favor of the change1 that   
both in doors and out of doors a better 
class of servants will be available1    
because of the better life that can be  
offered4 ,it will be easier to secure   
the services of laborers who are married
 and who live in their own houses1 and  
so avoid the serious annoyance to the   
household that attends the boarding of  
hired men4  ,to make this radical change
 in any farming neighborhood as at      
present constituted1 would be           
impracticable4 ,it would probably take a
 generation to convince the farmers of a

 community of its advantages2 it would  
cost too much1 even if not entirely     
impracticable1 to move the house and    
stables to the central point2 and it    
would involve such a change of habits of
 labor and of living as must necessarily
 be the work of time4 ,however1 if the  
principle commends itself to the leading
 men of the neighborhood1 and especially
 to young men about to marry1 the       
nucleus of a village may be established1
 and sooner or later the present or the 
coming generation will find a way to    
come into the fold4  ,if we assume that 
by this or some other means the more    
intelligent of the young men are induced
 to remain farmers1 it is interesting to
 consider in what way their greater     
intelligence is to be made to tell on   
their work so as to secure the necessary
 improvement4 ,it would not be          
unreasonable to suppose that young men  
of the class we have in mind1 those who 
now seek occupations which afford a     
better field for their intelligence1 and

 who seek them because of their         
intelligence1 would establish such      
centres of discussion and interest in   
improved farming as would not only      
mitigate the worthless gossip now so    
common at the country store1 but would  
awaken a real enthusiasm in better      
processes and systems4  ,not only would 
there be this tendency toward           
improvement2 but where farmers are close
 neighbors1 and are able to conduct     
their interests in such a way as to help
 each other1 there would naturally grow 
up some sort of co-operative business4  
,by the establishment of a              
butter-factory or cheese-factory1 or by 
the common ownership of a milk-route1 or
 where tobacco is grown by the          
undertaking of its manufacture as an    
employment for winter1 or by the raising
 of honey or of poultry1 or by the      
establishment of some valuable breed of 
live stock with a reputation for        
excellence that will cause it to be     
sought for from abroad1 or by some other

 combination1 they would secure         
profitable business4  ,of course all the
 farmers in ,new ,england cannot within 
the next ten years move into villages2  
but what is suggested is that the       
farmers of some one community should try
 the experiment4 ,their success might   
induce others to follow the example2 and
 little by little1 in proportion to the 
promise of a good result1 more and more 
would seek the advantages which the     
system would offer1 so that sooner or   
later the benefits which are now        
experienced in village life in ,europe  
might be felt here in the higher degree 
which greater intelligence and greater  
freedom would be sure to produce4       
,while advancing these suggestions1 with
 much confidence in their practical     
value1 ,i would by no means confine the 
outlook for ,eastern farming to this    
single road to success4 ,co-operative   
industry may be largely adopted among   
farmers living at some distance from    
each other4 ,the cheese-factory has     

become an institution4 ,the better      
quality of the product when made in     
large quantities1 and the better price  
that its quality and the improved system
 for marketing have secured1 constitute 
a very decided success in our           
agriculture4 ,butter-factories are      
coming into vogue with a promise of     
equally good results4  ,a very good     
substitute for the co-operative         
management of a milk route is in very   
general adoption throughout ,new        
,england1 where some single farmer who  
devotes himself to selling milk buys the
 product of his neighbor's dairies for a
 certain fixed price1 taking upon       
himself the labor1 the risk1 and the    
profit of marketing4 ,the co-operative  
breeding of live stock cannot as yet be 
said to have become well established1   
but its possibilities of success are    
considerable4 ,a community can afford to
 buy and keep a thorough-bred horse1 or 
bull1 or boar1 or buck1 which would cost
 far too much for the means of a single 

owner1 and thus gradually give to the   
stock of the whole neighborhood a       
superiority that will secure it a       
wide-spread reputation and insure good  
prices4 ,let us keep always in view the 
important principle of making two blades
 of grass grow where but one grew       
before2 but let us remit no effort which
 may tend to make one blade worth what  
two were worth before4  ,incidentally1  
there may be combinations to secure good
 outlet drainage for tracts of land     
belonging to different owners1 and later
 a provision for the general irrigation 
of these lands4  ,it is not to be hoped1
 that1 either as a whole or in its      
details1 agricultural improvement is to 
be advanced with any thing like a rush4 
,farmers are generally conservative in  
the worst sense of the term4 ,they have 
during the past generation adopted many 
improvements and modifications in the   
methods of their work1 the mere         
suggestion of which would have been     
scouted by their fathers2 but they are  

themselves as ready as their fathers    
were to scout any further new           
suggestion1 and it is only by iteration 
and reiteration that the shorter steps  
of tentative experiment can be urged    
upon their acceptance4  ,in reviewing   
what is written above1 the thought      
arises that the one impression that it  
will surely produce will be that its    
writer fails to appreciate the better   
influences that cluster around the      
better class of farmers' homes4 ,such an
 inference would be quite unjust4       
,knowing as ,i do the intrinsic worth   
and the charming qualities of very many 
of these households1 ,i appeal to the   
best of the thoughtful men and women    
whom they include1 to confirm my        
statement that they find many elements  
of their life to be pinching and hard1  
and that however admirable they may now 
be1 they would be in no way injured1 but
 in many ways improved1 by more frequent
 intercourse with their equals1 and     
especially with their betters4  ,that   

the picture ,i have sketched of the     
average farmer's family is not          
overdrawn1 ,i appeal to every country   
clergyman and physician to bear witness4
 ,the truths suggested are patent to    
all4 ,they are set forth in no spirit of
 hypercriticism1 and with no other view 
than to help to ameliorate the condition
 of those to whom they refer4 ,knowing  
the farmer more intimately than does the
 average editor or orator1 ,i am        
confident that my estimate of his       
character and of his life will strike   
him as being more just1 if not more     
honest4         99       99       99    
99       99  ,,by ,,the ,,same ,,author4
   ,a ,,farmer',s ,,vacation4 ,sketches 
of ,travel in ,europe2 with a very      
complete ,account of the ,drainage of   
the ,great ,haarlem ,lake in ,holland2  
,notes on ,dutch ,farming2 a ,journey in
 ,normandy and ,brittany2 and an        
,elaborate ,description of the ,channel 
,islands1--their ,agriculture1 ,social  
,customs1 ,scenery1 c4 ,beautifully     

illustrated4 ,price #c4jj4  ,,whip ,,and
 ,,spur4 ,papers reprinted from the     
,atlantic ,monthly1--largely about ,army
 ,experiences2 and certain ,horses1 at  
,home and in the ,field4 ,price #a4be4  
,,the ,,elements ,,of ,,agriculture4 ,a 
work of ,practical ,science for         
,farmers4 ,price #a4jj4  ,,the          
,,sanitary ,,drainage ,,of ,,houses     
,,and ,,towns4 ,illustrated4 ,price     
#b4jj4  ,,draining ,,for ,,profit1 and  
,,draining ,,for ,,health4 ,complete    
,directions for the ,drainage of        
,agricultural ,lands1 ,swamps1          
,malarious ,districts1 c4 ,fully        
illustrated4 ,price #a4ej4  ,,the       
,,handy ,,book ,,of ,,husbandry4 ,a     
,manual for ,american ,farmers4 ,fully  
illustrated4 ,price #b4ej4  ,,the       
,,sanitary ,,condition ,,of ,,town ,,and
 ,,country ,,houses4 ,price #ej cents4  
,,in ,,press4 ,,the ,,bride ,,of ,,the  
,,rhine2 ,two ,hundred ,miles in a      
,mosel ,row-boat4