The Story of the Soil Part 22

"Not everybody," replied Percy. "There is only One who understands it. There is only one great miracle, and that is the miracle of life. It is said that men adulterate coffee, even to the extent of making the bean or berry so nearly like the natural that it requires an expert to detect the fraud; but do you think an imitation seed would grow?"

"No, it wouldn't grow," said the driver.

"Not only that," said Percy, "but we may have a natural and perfect grain of corn and it can never be made to grow by any or all of the knowledge and skill of men, if for a single instant the life principle has left the kernel, which may easily result by changing its temperature a few degrees above or below the usual range. The spark of life returns to G.o.d who gave it, and man is as helpless to restore it as when he first walked the earth.

"What miracle do you find hard to accept?" asked Percy.

"How could Jesus know that Lazarus had died when he was on the other side of the mountain?"

"I don't know," Percy replied; "perhaps by some sort of wireless message which his soul could receive. I don't know how, but it was no greater miracle than it would have been then to have done what I did last week."

The driver turned to look squarely at Percy as though in doubt of his sanity, but a kindly smile rea.s.sured him.

"Our train coming into Cincinnati ran in two sections," Percy continued, "and the section behind us was wrecked, three travellers being killed and about fifteen others wounded. I was sure my mother would hear of the wreck before I could reach her with a letter, and so I talked with her from Cincinnati over the long distance 'phone, with which we have always had connection since I first went away to college. Yes, I talked with her, and, though separated by a distance three times the entire length of Palestine, I distinctly heard and recognized my mother's voice. Oh, yes, I believe in miracles; but that is a matter of small consequence. The important thing is that we have faith in G.o.d and faith in Jesus Christ, his Son."

"Well, that's what troubles me," said the driver. "How's one to get faith?"

"There are two methods of receiving faith," replied Percy. "Faith cometh by prayer." "Yes, Sir, I believe that." "And, faith cometh by hearing." "Hearing what?" "Hearing by the Word of G.o.d; hearing those who have studied His Word and who testify of Him; and hearing with an ear ready to receive the truth."

CHAPTER XXVII

EIGHTEEN TO ONE

TWO days later Percy was in Rhode Island visiting a farm owned by Samuel Robbins, one of the most progressive and successful farmers of that State.

Mr. Robbins' farm lay in what appeared to be an ancient valley, several miles in width, although only a small stream now winds through it to the sea seven miles away.

"So you are from Illinois," said Mr. Robbins, after Percy had introduced himself and explained the nature of his visit. "The papers have a good deal to say about the corn you grow in Illinois; but have you noticed that the Government reports show our average yield of corn in New England is higher than yours in Illinois?"

"Yes, Sir," Percy replied, "I have noticed that and I have come to Rhode Island to learn how to raise more corn per acre. I have noticed, however, that New England corn does not occupy a large acreage."

Well, now, we count corn as one of our big crops, next to hay.

You'll see plenty of corn fields right here in Rhode Island."

"Would you believe that we actually raise more corn on one farm in Illinois than the total corn crop of Rhode Island?"

"You don't tell!"

"Yes," said Percy, "the Isaac Funk farm in McLean County grows more corn on seven thousand acres a year, with an average yield certainly above fifty bushels per acre, and surely making a total above 350,000 bushels; while the State of Rhode Island grows corn on nearly ten thousand acres with an average yield of thirty-two bushels, making a total yield of about 320,000 bushels."

"Well, I'll give it up; but I'd like to know how much corn you raise in the whole State of Illinois."

"Our average production," said Percy, "is about equal to the total production of Maine, New Hamps.h.i.+re, Vermont, Ma.s.sachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, North and South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, and Mississippi."

"Eighteen of us!" exclaimed Mr. Robbins, who had counted on his fingers from New York to Mississippi. "And you come to Rhode Island to learn how to raise corn?"

"Yes, I came to learn how you raise more than thirty-five bushels of corn per acre as an average for New England, while we raise less than thirty-five bushels as an average in Illinois, and while Georgia, a larger State than Illinois, raises only eleven bushels per acre as a ten year average. Illinois is a new State, but I call to mind that Roger Williams settled in Rhode Island in 1636 and that he was joined by many others coming not only from Ma.s.sachusetts but also from other sections. I a.s.sume that much of the land in Rhode Island has been farmed for 250 years, and the fact that you are still producing more than thirty bushels of corn per acre, as an average, is, it seems to me, a fact of great significance. I suppose you use all the manure you can make from the crops you raise and perhaps use some commercial fertilizer also. I should like to know what yield of corn you produce without any manure or fertilizer?"

"We don't produce any," said Mr. Robbins; "at least we know we wouldn't produce any corn without fertilizing the land in one way or another. If you will walk over here a little ways you can see for yourself. I didn't have quite enough manure to finish this field and I had no more time to haul seaweed so I planted without getting any manure on a few rods in one corner, and the corn there wouldn't make three bushels from an acre. I didn't bother to try to cut it, but the cows will get what little fodder there is as soon as I can get the shocks out of the field and turn 'em in for a few days to pick up what they can."

Percy examined the corn plants still standing in the corner of the field. They had grown to a height of about two feet. Most of them had ta.s.sels and many of them appeared to have little ears, but really had only husks containing no ear. In a few places where the hill contained only one plant a little nubbin of corn could be found.

"I don't mean to let any of my land get as poor as this field was,"

continued Mr. Robbins, "but I just couldn't get to it, and I left it in hay about two years longer than I should have done. Last year was first cla.s.s for hay but this field had been down so long it was hardly worth cutting."

"About what yield do you get from the manured land?" inquired Percy.

"In a fair year I get about forty bushels, and that's about what I am getting this year from my best fields. You see there's lots of corn in these shocks. There's about an average ear, and we get five or six ears to the hill."

"Eight-row flint," said Percy, as he took the ear in his hand and drew a celluloid paper knife from his vest pocket with a six-inch scale marked on one side.

"Yes, Sir, our regular Rhode Island White Cap."

"Just five inches long. Weight about three ounces?"

"Perhaps. We count on about four hundred ears to the bushel. If we get four thousand hills to the acre one ear to the hill would give us ten bushels per acre, so you see we only have to have four ears to the hill to make our forty bushels. A good many hills have five to six ears, but then of course, some hills don't have much of any, so I suppose my corn makes an average of four ears about like that."

"I suppose you feed all of the corn you raise in order to produce as much manure as possible."

"Feed that corn! Not much we don't. Why, corn like that brings us close on to a dollar a bushel. No, Sir, we don't feed this corn.

It's all used for meal. It makes the best kind of corn meal. No, we buy corn for feed; western corn. Oh, we feed lots of corn; three times as much as we raise; but we don't feed dollar corn, when we can buy western corn for seventy-five or eighty cents.

"I sell corn and I sell potatoes; that's all except the milk. I keep most of my land in meadow and pasture and feed everything I raise except the corn and potatoes. And milk is a good product with us. We average about sixty cents a pound for b.u.t.ter fat, and it's ready money every month; and, of course, we need it every month to pay for feed."

"Then you produce on the farm all the manure you use," suggested Percy, "but I think you mentioned hauling seaweed."

"Yes, and I haul some manure, too, when I can get it; but usually there are three or four farmers ready to take every load of town manure."

"You get it from town for the hauling?"

"Well, I guess not," said Mr. Robbins emphatically and with apparent astonishment at such a question. "I don't think I would haul seaweed seven miles if I could get manure in town for nothing. Manure is worth $1.50 a ton Iying in the livery stable, and there are plenty to take it at that right along. I'd a little rather pay that than haul seaweed; but the manure won't begin to go around, and so there's nothing left for us but seaweed; and, if we couldn't get that, the Lord only knows what we could do."

"How much seaweed can you haul to a load, and about how many loads do you apply to the acre?"

"When the roads are good we haul a cord and a quarter, and we put ten or twelve loads to the acre for corn and then use some commercial fertilizer."

"Do you know how much a cord of the seaweed would weigh?"

"Yes, a cord weighs about a ton and a half."