“IT’S ANANIAS FOR ME!”

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXX, Issue 35, 28 September 1914, Page 6

“IT’S ANANIAS FOR ME!”

In an interview with a pressman, Professor Creelman, president of the Agricultural College, Guelph, Ontario, who is one of the visiting scientists in connection with the Science Congress meeting, said with regard to a visit to the Taieri Plains:

“What do I think of it? Marvellous!” said the man from Canada. “Why you are just playing at forming. You don’t know what you’ve got. I’m afraid to stay here. If I stayed here a month, I could never cut loose. Seventy bushels of wheat to the acre, and the ground just scratched. They won’t believe me. It’s the Ananias Club for me the moment I open my month! Seventy bushels to the acre, and the seed just thrown into the ground. And when I tell them that you chuck the tutnips and grass down together and eat off the turnips while the sheep manuring the grass —with the sun shining three hundred days of .the year and the grass six inches high right on the tail of winter! No, they won’t believe it! It’s Ananias for me. And the ground just scratched! And when T tell them that I have seen bouider country feeding three and four sheip to the acre, and the sheep w.’tli two lambs each hiding bohinl the boulders! Well, it’s no use. No winter feeding, no barns! Why in Canada we build barns bigger and better than our houses—have to! And our implements laid up eight months of the year while we go about on sledges and keep the live stock housed and stall fed. While you chaps a;6 just joy-riding round on motors and going to the horse tracks. You don’t know what you’ve got! And our fellows making a living on a hundred acres. It beats me how it’s done!

. . , An ideal country for hog; and not a hog in sight. I suppose it’s because you can’t ride round them with horses? Well, I’m going to get some pictures of your country and take them along, and when the ch ips from" England turn it up, as so manv of them do because they can’t °cidure the climate. I’ll just head them off to Eldorado. Well, good-bye! I’rn just bolting away because I’m afiaid to stop. Oats and wheat chucked into the ground, and seventy bus a ’