My Ninety Acres
(Page 4 of 4)
It wasn't the last time I saw old Walter. There was enough
of my father in me to make the friendship between myself
and the old man before long very nearly as warm as their
friendship had been. And after all, between them, they had
taught me many of the things I had come with experience to
value most in life. The Sunday afternoon visits to My
Ninety Acres became nearly a habit, for I found gradually
that old Walter was in himself an education. He knew more
of the fundamentals of soil, of crops, of livestock than
any man I have ever known. Some of them he had read in
books and in farm papers but he didn't trust the things he
read until he tried them out, and many of them he didn't
even attempt to try since out of his own wisdom he
understood at once they were rubbish. Instinctively and out
of experience he rejected things that ran counter to the
laws of nature.
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"Nellie," he would say, "always said that Nature and the
land itself was the best answer to all these questions. 'If
it wasn't natural it wasn't right,' Nellie would say, and
I've never found that she was wrong. She used to say that
there were two kinds of farms—the 'live' farms and
the 'dead' ones—and you could tell the difference by
looking at them. A 'live' farm was the most beautiful place
in the world and a 'dead' farm was the saddest. It depended
on the man who worked them, whether he loved the place and
saw what was going on or whether he just went on pushing
implements through the ground to make money. Nellie was
awful smart about a lot of things."
Copies of Return to Pleasant Valley , published by
the American Botanist, are Stock No. 1893 on MOTHER'S
Bookshelf; to order, call (866) 833-7096. You can visit
Bromfield's Malabar Farm, now an Ohio state park; for
details, go to www.malabarfarm.org , or call (419)
892-2784.
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