LAND-LURE.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVI, Issue 170, 20 July 1935, Page 1 (Supplement)

LAND-LURE.

THE TWO EXTREMES.

FICTIONAL AND RRAX FARMERS. (By M.E.S.)' To generalise about any class of human beings is necessarily to court disaster, and too many people Lave felt 60 sure that they understood all about that simple person, the farmer, that they have attempted to fit him into this pigeon-hole or that and neatly label him. Farmers are just as various in their tastes, habits and opinions as any other men, but, because of their manner of life, with its hardships and its compensations, they are inclined to react in a peculiar manner to those hard times that are now the order of their day. "Now, more than ever before, the man ■who has a real and passionate love of the land will be tempted to devote himgelf utterly to it, while his neighbour, ■who takes life and its responsibilities more lightly, will say that just now there is little enough to be made from the land in any case —so why worry? At any time there is a sharp line of differentiation drawn between these two types of farmers, and the majority fall roughly into one class or the other; the one is a farmer first and last and is inclined to sacrifice too much of life's amenities to the land; the other is a trifle easy-going, apt to enjoy life and willing to allow the farm to look after itself." Between the two extremes there comes that fortunately numerous body of farmers who something of the qualities of eatn; these are more often to be found among the men ■who are fairly prosperous, have not known great hardships or loneliness, and have succeeded in "making good." It is when a man is making a start in life —and not necessarily his first etart —that he is apt to fall into the error of sacrificing too much for the farm. He becomes obsessed with his duty to the land, the need for topdressing, fencing, implements, and cannot be content to proceed gradually to\TVirds the fulfilment of his hopes. "Times are bad and we must get ahead of things; comforts and pleasures can wait." But times continue to be bad and the joy of living to wait so long that at last it vanishes altogether. This, of course, is a favourite topic with the novelist until the fiction reader _ is inclined to wonder whether there exists euch a rarity as a normal farmer; nevertheless, it makes uncomfortable reading, for there is far too much truth in the picture. We have most of us known farmers of this type.

Sacrifices. Yet it is only fair to suspend judgment until we consider the circumstances of his life. The farmer, unlike any ordinary man with a "job," sees no end to the work that has to be done, and much of it urgently. He is cut off by the nature of his life from much compaoiionship with his fellows, unless they be farmers like himself, and even then he may see them only rarely. He is often lonely and isolated, always overworked and, certainly of late years, usually under-paid. Moreover, a good farmer may sacrifice others, but he sacrifices himself most of all. He scorns delight and lives laborious days for so long that eventually he forgets that some delights are the right and due of every human creature. The land becomes a slavery to him— and he rejoices in his servitude. Nor should we quarrel with him if he would involve none but himself in his destiny, tfor he has just as much reason to remain celibate as the devotees of any other religion. The unfortunate part of it is that he almost always marries, and then his wife and children are caught in the snare that the land has spread. They work, not so hard as he does, but far beyond their due, and without his passionate satisfaction. In the end his wife usually grows old before her time, and his' children take the first town job that is offering. Very often the farm made with such sacrifice and devotion is put up for sale on the death, the pay off the mortgages on. their villa residences with the proceeds, and congratulate themselves on having put common, sense before sentiment. This, as I have already said, is the novelist's farmer. Less attention has been paid to the other type, partly because, though perhaps more pleasant, he is a less picturesque figure. He is a comfortable, easy-going fellow, who buys a wireless instead of those extra tons of manure, and raises a second mortgage to build a comfortable house and buy a car. Unfortunately in these days few farms can support a car, and fewer still a second mortgage, so that he is apt to end in disaster, but meantime his wife, unless, indeed, she happens to be that unfeminine product, a good business woman, usually looks young for her age, has time to manicure her hands and is rarely without a permanent wave. Of course it can't last for ever, unless he be one of those fortunate beings who inherit money —and it is strange how many farmers of this type do, while his conscientious neighbour plods on, grim and penniless; still he has a run for his money and his children are robust and cheerful.

The Ideal. Then, fortunately, there is the golden mean, the farmer who does not run into debt and yet remembers that a house and family have their rights as well as the land. Luckily, whatever the novelists may say, these exist in comforting numbers. I know one bush farmer who started life with hardly an y capital, felling his own bush, pit-sawed the timber for his house, and gradually, acre by acre, turned a large and difficult hill section into a profitable farm. As times improved, he made a definite rule; each year saw some money spent on the farm and some on the house or family. The first year that he let a big fencing contract he also bought a piano; the next saw another hundred acres of bush felled and good plumbing and hot water service installed; the third brought his first attempt at topdressing and the launching of his eldest soi at boarding school; the fourth a '.earing plant and a governess for the younger children. And so on. He survives today in reasonably comfortable circumstances despite many slumps, thereby depriving the novelist of much excellent tragic material. Such a man has managed, in face of great isolation and many hardships, to keep his sense of proportion. He is an excellent farmer, but he is many other things as well. Luckily, the type is today on the increase. The growth of an educated opinion among farmers, the gradual conquest of inaccessibility and loneliness, the increase of science and intelligent methods of farming have all combined to improve the outlook of the man upon the land. Gradually the extremes will be eliminated and the moderate man become the rule —the happy comfortable farmer. And prosperous? Ah. well, you can't expect miracles in 1935.