If Youre Going to Live in the Country | Page 6

little thin and you begin to realize that
frequently Monday morning finds the refrigerator swept bare. In time it
will dawn on you that part of the up-keep of a country home revolves
around feeding your self-invited guests. It would not be so bad if they
would telephone ahead so that you could be prepared, but that is not
one of the rules of the game. Instead, it is taken for granted that living
in the country, you have a never-failing pantry. The solution lies in
preparedness. From early spring until about Thanksgiving time, have in
reserve some simple supplies for an acceptable afternoon tea or Sunday
night supper.
One household of my acquaintance always has large pitchers of milk, a
supply of crackers, two or three kinds of cheese, a platter of sandwiches,
home-made cake and a hot drink. As many as wish are welcome to
come at the last moment for this standard Sunday night supper. Its
simplicity has earned this repast a wide reputation and it is considered a
great lark to go there. Incidentally, this truly rural supper is so
inexpensive that it matters little how many are on hand Sunday
evenings. Also the chore of washing dishes after the last guests have
gone is reduced to lowest terms, likewise an item not to be overlooked.
This trend toward country living, now so far flung as to be a

characteristic of American life, is not just a fad. It has been a slow
steady growth and has behind it a tradition of a century and more.
When our larger commercial centers first began to change from villages
to compact urban communities, there were those who found even these
miniature cities far too congested. It was incomprehensible to them that
a family should exist without land enough for such prime requisites as a
cow, a hen-yard, and a vegetable garden. No family that really lived
and properly enjoyed the pleasures of the table could be without them.
Besides, epidemics of yellow fever came with summer as naturally as
sleighing with winter.
So for health and good living they began to move far into the
country,--that is, three or four miles out of town,--and stage coach
routes were established to transport the heads of such families to and
from business either the year around or for the summer months. These
stages or the private carriages of the more ostentatious were, of course,
horse-drawn which limited the distance which could be traveled.
The next step was the railroads. Hardly were they practical means of
transportation that could be relied on day in and day out, before
commutation tickets were offered for those hardy enough to endure
daily trips of a dozen miles or more between home and office.
Gradually the peaceful farming villages surrounding cities were
transformed into something new to the American scene, the suburban
town, but it remained impractical for most people to live farther from
the station than a convenient walk. When electric car lines were added,
the distance was extended materially and the farm lands just outside
these suburban towns took on new value. Near car lines, they could be
sold to those not primarily concerned with agriculture. The interurban
electric roads also made many so-called abandoned farms in various
parts of the country practical for families who wished to live farther
from commercial centers either throughout the year or for the summer
months, since they provided that great essential, a quick means of
getting to shopping towns. Still great sections of back country, too far
from railroads and electric car lines, remained strictly rural.
Finally the automobile, made inexpensive enough for families of

average income and provided with that great innovation, the self-starter,
changed it all. This was not so very long ago. Approximately with the
World War came the moderate-priced car that need not be cranked by
hand. Driving it was no longer a sporting male occupation too often
marred by broken arms and sprained wrists, the painful outcome of
hand-cranking when the motor "back-fired." With the self-starter car
driving went feminine. Mother, as well as father, could and did drive. It
was now practical for automobile owning families to live farther from
railroad stations and villages.
Unnoticed at the time, a new sort of pioneering began. City-dwelling
people turned hungry eyes toward the cheap country farmhouses
located beyond limits of horse and carriage travel. By 1920, this trend
was in full swing and greatly expedited by the program of highway
improvement and rebuilding that spread across the country.
With a quick and easy means of travel, good roads, telephone and
electric service, farmhouses which but a few years before had been as
isolated as when Horace Greeley was thundering, "Go West, young
man, go West," were isolated no more. Prices rose but not beyond