he way for the fore-handed middle-aged man who wishes to change
from city to country life without financial loss. Younger people with
less means can accomplish the same results, but they must offset money
by time. The principle of the factory farm will hold as well with the
one as with the other.

To intensify farming is the only way to get the fat of the land. The
nations of the old world have nearly reached their limit in food
production. They are purchasers in the open market. This country must be
that market; and it behooves us to look to it that the market be well
stocked. There is land enough now and to spare, but will it be so fifty
or a hundred years hence? Our arid lands will be made fertile by
irrigation, but they will add only a small percentage to the amount
already in quasi-cultivation. Our future food supplies must be drawn
largely from the six million farms now under fences. These farms must be
made to yield fourfold their present product, or they will fall short,
not only of the demands made upon them, but also of their possibilities.
That is why I preach the gospel of intensive farming, for grain, hay,
market, and factory farm alike.

I will put the chickens out of the way for the present, referring to
them from time to time and indicating their general management, the cost
of their houses and food, and the amount of money received for eggs and
fowls. I do not think my plant would win the approval of fanciers, and
it is not in all ways up to date; but it is clean, healthy, and
commodious, and the birds attend as strictly to business as a reasonable
owner could wish. I shall be glad to show it to any one interested
enough to search it out, and to go into the details of the business and
show how I have been able to make it so remunerative.

Sam is with me no longer. For three years he did good service and saved
money, and the lurid nose grew dim. There is, however, a limit to human
endurance. Like victims of other forms of circular insanity, the
dipsomaniac completes his cycle in an uncertain period and falls upon
bad times. For a month before we parted company I saw signs of relapse
in Sam. He was loquacious at times, at other times morose. He talked
about going into business for himself, and his nose took on new color. I
labored with him, but to no purpose; the spirit of unrest was upon him,
and it had to work its own. I held him firm long enough to secure
another man, and then we parted, he to do bus