make drastic changes in the organization of rural life, I fear that most of my pupils will satisfy themselves with suburban homes.

The contributions which women may make to the productivity of the world are minimized everywhere, but it is particularly true of the woman in rural life. I know of no other position where a woman is self-supporting in which she has to work so hard for her board and clothes, and with so little opportunity for advancement or self-expression, as the woman on the farm, where the only income of the family is that derived from labor. The pictures which have been presented here of the well-to-do, well-dressed farmers driving in their automobiles to social centers in the neighborhood, or to market their products, which have been cultivated and garnered with up-todate methods, as a rule represent the class that either have capital invested in farming or else some addition to their income other than that which is derived from labor. But even in homes represented by this class it is astonishing to find that, while much thought and money have been expended in conducting farm activities with up-to-date methods and machinery, the women are still conducting their activities in practically the same way as their grandmothers did.

The farm magazine expends much effort in trying to make men realize the importance of improvements and conveniences in the dwelling-house, and paints glowing pictures of what may be done with little money in making both the homes and the men more attractive; but alas, the only member of the family who takes pleasure in reading and pondering upon these things is the woman. The man, coming in weary from his arduous day's work, is absorbed in the problems of the morrow and in his crops, and has no inclination to enter into any discussion of the needs of the house. The woman is powerless to accomplish the changes alone.

I heard Irving Bacheller tell an interesting story a few days ago, from his experience. His father owned one of the deserted farms in New England, from which the family had fled when

Dr. Bacheller was a boy. When he drove up in front of the house, a scene of desolation met his view. Broken shrubbery, grass, and weeds grew up beside the porch, which sagged at one corner and upon which sat a helpless specimen of middle-aged man in earth-colored trousers, with straggling hair and whiskers. Without taking the trouble to come out and meet the visitor, he called: "Who be you?" When Irving Bacheller had answered this question and entered the house, he found the desolate appearance even more pronounced. After a cursory view of the premises they went out upon the porch again and sat down to talk over the future possibilities of the farm. Soon a neighbor, of similar appearance to the host, arrived. Turning to Irving Bacheller, he made this same inquiry: "Who be you?" When he learned that it was Irving Bacheller, the absentee landlord, he turned to him and in a censorious voice said, "You are a long time coming back to the old place. You ought to be ashamed of yourself not to have come sooner. It is a shame the Bachellers left this fine farm; if they had stayed here it would not have looked like it does now."

The man who had spent his life on the farm looked at the farmer and than at Irving Bacheller, and with shrewd Yankee wit replied: "Well, neighbor, I guess you are about right; if Irving Bacheller had stayed on the farm, I guess the farm would have looked better, but he would have looked worse.'

This picture is typical of the impression in the minds of many women in the country, who feel that if they remain, their families must be sacrificed to the farm, if the farm is going to be a success. They are not willing that this should be; hence, the initiative for leaving the country often originates with the women of the family. If they cannot persuade their husbands to undertake the difficult proposition of supporting the family in the city, they will bend every effort toward getting the girls and boys into some other line of activity than that of farming. The ordinary father of the family living in the country, if he could keep his children with him to assist him in cultivating the

farm, would not care to move to the city, where the burden of supplying the daily needs of the family is much heavier on the father than it is in the country, where even the smallest child can contribute its "bit" toward lessening the burden of the father. But it is the woman of the family, who recognizes the limitations both in her life and in that of her husband, who is not willing that her boys and girls should meet a like fate. What matters it to her that the quality and supply of food in the country is such as only the wealthy can afford in the city? "Man does not live by bread alone," and she would prefer a box of crackers and a can of tomatoes, if need be, if with it she could have the social and educational advantages which urban living would afford her children.

But the boys and girls do not need this added stimulation to their already awakened desire for city life. The pictures of town life have already fascinated ambitious and self-reliant boys, and the opportunity for becoming a recognized force in the world's work has taken hold of the mind of the girl if she has initiative; or the possibility of the prince waiting for her on the corner when she alights from the train, suit-case in hand, with a velvety blush upon her cheek and the exhilarating ozone of the country clinging to her gown, has obsessed the romantic and unpractical female member of the family. She forgets that the Maud Mullers of pastoral pictures always captivate the princes while they are still in the country, and have a suitable background for their charms, but that the same girl, when transported to the city, makes a very different impression.

The younger generation of women who leave the country and come to the city on their own initiative includes two very distinct classes: first, the ambitious, self-respecting girl who places a certain estimate upon her industrial and personal value, and secondly, the shallow, vain girl who desires to find in outside interests the incentives which should come from within. In the majority of cases both of these types would be better off in the country, provided that too great a sacrifice

of personal values was not required from those of the first class. Rural life needs women of initiative and individuality, and if conditions were so adjusted that she could find opportunities for self-expression, added to economic independence, woman's values would be doubled to civilization in the country. The strain and drain of competition in city life is heavier on a woman than on a man. Much of woman's peculiar ambition, which is most valuable to civilization, is ruthlessly overlooked or destroyed by it. While it is true that she nobly plays her part in the mart of commerce, her highest and most normal gifts will find the opportunity for their best development in country life rather than in commercial industrialism.

The second type of country girl who goes to the city, ninetynine times out of a hundred, shortly becomes one of the problems of civilization, for which both city and country are likely to pay. Her thoughtless, careless attitude, which in country surroundings may yield but a modicum of evil results, under city conditions soon degenerates into viciousness, and as long as she lives she will be the most expensive and dangerous unit which society must carry as a "dead weight."

But apart from the arduous labor of the farmer's wife at home, for the old adage, "Man's work will run from sun to sun, but woman's work is never done," is as true to-day on the farm as it was one hundred years ago, there are other limitations to woman's activities in the country which are possibly even more responsible for her dissatisfaction with rural life. The rural delivery brings to her door the most up-to-date information with regard to the activities of women elsewhere, and even if she did not subscribe to magazines, the advertising of to-day, which is so freely distributed, is so attractive and effective that one cannot be in ignorance of the efficient activity of woman everywhere, which is in the very air we breathe. Farm women learn of the civic activities of women, and of how they are establishing and standardizing the schools, and of the opportunity which is given them to have a part in wielding their in

fluence for better government and the wise expenditure of the taxpayer's money. The rural woman is almost entirely cut off from this phase of modern life, and yet no one feels more keenly than she the necessity of a change in trying to solve the need from her viewpoint. As a rule country politics are chaotic if they are not vicious. The man who is too lazy or inefficient to be a good farmer is usually the office holder. The county is not considered as a whole and the taxpayer's money is more thoughtlessly spent than in the city.

If men are jealous of women outside of their own place in the city, they seem doubly so in the country, but I believe this arises more from the fact that farmers themselves are not in touch with the political situation, rather than from a positive objection, on their part, toward a woman's participation in political matters. I believe that the extension of the ballot to women will be of the greatest assistance in making the country more desirable to women, and it is interesting to note that in states which have given women the ballot it has almost invariably been the male votes of the rural population which have given the largest returns in favor of the extension of suffrage to

women.

The study of the county as a whole, and of its institutions and the introduction of up-to-date methods of conducting them with a budget system, will go a long way toward developing such agencies as are absolutely necessary to a proper rural life. Women have the necessary experience, and with home life properly organized, should have the leisure to give time and valuable assistance to the solution of these problems.

The opportunities for a variety of interest, so necessary to a well-rounded life, can be had in the country just as well as in the city, and from an economic viewpoint would be of great value. Small coöperative agencies, the stock locally owned, such as coöperative laundries, bakeries, creameries, and even a coöperative store, would not only keep capital at home, but would also develop the business interests of rural men and