possible for Springfield and New England to secure the national show itself this year..

Mr. Skinner was loyal to his own section, the middle west, but he is a big, broad minded man, and Mr. Brooks' enthusiasm won him over. Chicago could not have had the show this year anyway; the feeling among cattle owners caused by their experience with the foot and mouth disease quarantine in 1914 would have spelled failure if the association had undertaken to hold a show in Chicago in 1916. Therefore, when the Eastern States men went to the directors of the association with their plea for this year's show for New England, they had an ally in Mr. Skinner.

All his life, Mr. Skinner has been connected with the cattle industry. Throughout the Middle West no man is better known to dairy and beef men. Before the National Dairy Show was organized he had been prominent in expositions and the forming of big associations. With the growth of the Dairy Show from a small beginning in 1905, his standing has become that of

the director of the foremost enterprise of its kind in the world.

His associations with the men who have given to this corner of the map what has been described as "the biggest idea conceived in New England in half a century" have been somewhat intimate for the past six months, and his counsel and advice have been generously at their command. He has spent so much of his time in New England of late and will for the next six months, that he says he feels like a New Englander. He has a keen understanding of the agricultural problems that confront this region and a cordial desire to have a part in working them out.

As the director of the campaign which the Eastern States Exposition made in Springfield last February, when nearly four thousand of its citizens finanacially interested themselves in the movement Lucius E. Wilson added to a record of achievement of which any man might well be proud. Mr. Wilson has spent about fourteen years in chamber of commerce work. He describes himself as a sort of con

sulting engineer in such endeavors. In order to finance the exposition, its directors first established the co-operation of twenty five men in Hampden county, who underwrote $10,000 each of its capital stock of $750,000. It was expected that Springfield, the headquarters of the project, would seek to have a share equally large. Mr. Wilson directed the presentation of the movement to the people, and in a ten-day campaign, which in many of its phases broke all records for like endeavors, the citizens subscribed for stock to the amount of $285,000. About three hundred of the city's busiest business men cooperated in this campaign, and at its conclusion they united in saying they had never done anything for the good of the public that seemed so well worth while as this Considerable of the exposition stock has since been taken by the people of New England, notably in Holyoke, and it is planned to offer what remains to the six states with the expectation that they will be anxious to have a part in this enterprise which is so cer

tain to bring about results of the highest value to this and coming generations. real in the direction of co-operative efforts for the re-establishment of New England agriculture.

I am not forgetting that the word "Industrial" is included in the charter title of this corporation. It is well that it is. New England is, and so far as human foresight goes, always will be primarily an industrial centre. But industries flourish best against a background of thrifty farms, and no small part of the significance of this movement lies in the opportunity which it opens to the great manufacturing interests of this section to work hand in hand with the farming interests for the solution of New England's agricultural problems.

For these problems are pressing. The desultory efforts of individuals, and the somewhat languid activities of state and national governments, have not stemmed the tide of agricultural decadence. New England still faces the stubborn facts of a depleted soil, a depleted farm population, and

depleted herds. The years from 1860 to 1910 have watched a steady decline in farming in New England, until the figures total a loss during that period of 5,103,075 acres under cultivation. That says nothing about decreasing herds of cattle and flocks of sheep. Seventy-five percent of the food consumed in Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island is imported from the west and south, and food prices in Boston, for example, are from one third to one half higher than in middle west cities like Detroit. That means that from one third to one half higher wages would be required to equalize matters-hence the very pertinent interest of the manufacturing community in the efficiency of New England farms.

The promoters of this enterprise seem to me to be correct in their statement that dairying is of primary importance to agriculture. Not only does the herd give back to the soil almost as much in fertility as it withdraws, butit renders profitable such crops as clover, which help the soil to restore its stock of nitrogen from the air.

But the prosperity of dairying, more than of any other farming operation, is dependent upon efficient co-operation. The law may set standards, but it cannot enable the farmer to maintain them. While I fully believe that the highest standard is best for the farmer "in the long run," I am convinced that he cannot stand the run, without such aids as a ready market for the prompt purchase, at the best price, of blooded stock, instruction, the incentive of competition, and recognition of good results when achieved. It costs a great deal of money to maintain a high-grade herd, and the moment a single head the herd ceases to be a producer, the farmer must be able to dispose of it at its true value. This is one of the great uses of fairs. A properly developed fair becomes a great market of exchange, like the sheep exchanges of English farmers, through which they cross strains, prevent in-breeding, and

maintain and improve their flocks. Anyone who has seen a sheep market such as that of Stratford, must instantly realize what a source of profit it is to the farmer. If New England farmers knew that they could dispose promptly and for cash of the surpluage of their herds, without sacrificing their value, the grade of their stock would rapidly improve. For the farmer is a "good sport.' 'good sport." He would infinitely rather own thoroughbreds than runts. But if he has to sell a thoroughbred at the price of a runt, or keep it eating its head off indefinitely, he will feel himself forced to rest content with the inferior herd. Just as surely as bad money drives out good, when the bad money is allowed to set the standard of price, while, under a true gold standard, good money will drive out bad, because it will purchase more, just so if the only market for cattle is the knock-down slaughterhouse price, the runt will drive out the costly thoroughbred, while if there is ready market for the thoroughbred stock, it will speedily drive out the inferior strain, because it brings a higher return. We hear much of American lack of preparation for foreign trade, and all that we hear, and much more, is probably true. But such lack of preparation is as nothing in comparison with the injury done to our agricultural interests by a lack of the simplest means of enabling the farmer to exchange his goods at remunerative prices.

Occasionally a very enterprising, and intelligent farmer can overcome the handicap, but it is a handicap nevertheless, and one that should not be suffered to continue.

Now, as a practical matter, the argument runs like this: the only profitable herd is the high grade herd. The only way in which high grade herds can be maintained an a profitable basis is by the most ready opportunity for barter and sale. Such an opportunity depends an centralized exhibitions. Western farmers can sell their blooded stock at boloded prices, therefore the quality of the western herds is steadily

rising. The New England farmer cannot readily sell blooded stock save at runt stock prices, therefore the New England herds are deteriorating,

The Eastern States Agricultural Exposition seens to me to be taking hold of this problem by the handle. It should receive every possible encouragement and support.

The New England farmer has had altogether too much reason to fear that his sail was not fit for the most important of all seeding-the planting of good gold dollars. Resuscitating the farm means making it inviting to capital so that the dollars will begin to be planted again, as they are on good western farms, and as they once were in New England. The Eastern States Exposition has a work to do in the education of capital as well as the education of the farmer. Capital must be shown that farms well seeded down with dollars bring forth crops, "some ten-fold, some thirty-fold, and some a hundred-fold."

We have much to say about this all for a long time, but on the sentimental basis. Our efforts have been confined

to oratory, or where anything has actually been done, it has smacked of the cushion an the scented fan. We must get down and we must get together.

Not only does this movement put dollars into the soil, it puts them by hundreds of thousands into the pockets of the farmers. And that is a very good reason for believing that farmers will be interested. We have been telling boys to "remain on the farms", and fed their young minds with pictures of the idyllic beauty of rural life, and independence. We have been in in the habit of saying that the brightest and best have left the farms, unreasonably, and that it is only necessary for them to go back to the soil to renew our agricultural prosperity, and we have not been telling the truth. It has not been true that the "brightest and best" have left the farms. The boy who stood by the home and the ancestral acres has only too often been the flower of the stock. But for what has his loyalty and toil accomplished? What could it accomplish? He has seemed stupid, dull, unenterprising,