On a bright afternoon, two old men could be seen strolling along
leisurely, talking of the difference the society had made in their
lives.
[Illustration]
“Who would have thought fifteen years ago, John, that you and I could be
living in the comfort and ease that we are today? The most comfortable
house ever built on ground, large or small, when built separately, could
never have the advantage these _apartment_ buildings have. Our large
windows give the necessary light we old people need, and I tell you when
the eyesight is dim, especially when we had good sight, it is very hard
to go stumbling along, especially in your own home. I think the
society’s determination to preserve its light and air and not allow the
buildings to be crowded together, is a very great advantage. It suits
me, I can tell you.”
“The variety in the cooking is what I like,” said Mr. White. “When our
girls got married and wife and I had the farm to ourselves, she seemed
all played out and couldn’t cook as she used to. Then one after the
other of the boys left us and went to the cities. They thought the farm
work was too hard, when they could have the money in their hand each
week, and it seemed a lot to them out on the farm, where they had no
board bills to pay, but they have found out the difference and I have
now arranged to have them all here now. When I signed over my farm to
the society all three came out in a great state of mind. They thought I
had done them an injustice. I told them, ‘You must remember that after
your mother and I had raised you and worked hard to keep the place
together, first paying for it when you children were too young to be of
any help, we fairly begged you to stay with us and help us when you were
grown up. Oh, no, the city was the only place for you then.’ Then I
said, ‘Do you think we are going to work and pay out all we can rake and
scrape together for hired men to work the place, so you boys can have it
after our death? Have we no rights? Are you children of more consequence
than we are? Who earned it?’
“Well, they didn’t like the way I was doing it. What was I going to do
with the stock? I told them I had given it all over to the society and
arranged it so that wife and I had permanent shares in exchange to keep
us in comfort the rest of our lives. We also had the satisfaction of
seeing younger men and women earning enough to make up any deficiency in
a way that you would not do if we should need it.
“‘Well, what will become of your shares after your death?’ one said.
“‘They will go to the society,’ I told them unless they joined it. In
that case I could leave them to my children if they would do as other
members would and increase their own shares. I told them that all had to
look ahead for their old age if they became members, for the society was
representing wealth and wouldn’t take any one that would spend
everything they earned while in the freshness of youth. I said that they
could easily save enough in the next fifteen years to make them
comfortable the rest of their lives if they became members and I wished
that they would. Then I asked them why they didn’t tell us that it was
more loneliness than hard work that took them to the city. They looked
surprised and one said that it wasn’t. I told them that I had thought it
was, since I had lived in the community where all could hear good music
and lectures, see good plays and something worth listening to in the
conversation with those one came in contact with. I had become convinced
that they were right in leaving the farm, and I did not blame them.
“‘Still you don’t secure your property to us?’ one said.
“‘Oh, no,’ I told them. ‘If you boys have not the ability to earn
sufficient for your old age, you don’t deserve to have anything. These
young men and women who are keeping up the work in the society have the
best right to what I leave, unless you show that you will do as they are
doing.’
“Oh, yes, young people can leave their parents just at the time when
they are most needed and if in after years there is any property left,
they think it a great hardship if their parents leave it to any one
else.”
The old friends talked on and presently their wives joined them. They,
too, had been taking a walk and hearing the last of the conversation,
gave some of their ideas of the society.
“What I like about it,” remarked Mrs. White, “is the freedom from care.
On the farm it is continual work, late and early, looking after the
stock and feeding or growing food. Now I can rest. Our apartments need
only a little straightening and dusting once a week. Each day while I
make the bed, husband waters the flowers and I must say I like the wide
porches with the boxes of plants on the edges. We make the porch our
sitting room in the summer and when winter comes, the windows are so
large, we can keep a nice lot of them and send the rest to the
greenhouses.”
The four walked along and talked of the society and wondered they had
not thought of it years before. The short hours the young people have to
work and exercise the different portions of their body until it becomes
a pleasure to be employed, is a great change from the drudgery of the
past.
Mrs. Brown here stated that she expected their married son to come on in
about a month or six weeks.
“We have arranged for him to receive our permanent shares after our
death,” Mr. Brown said. “He, like your boys, did not see what advantages
the society offered him until we reminded him that our permanent shares
could go to him, but he would have to keep increasing his own shares. It
was hard for him to understand that we were leaving a certain amount in
consumable shares and using them in our living. He is not very strong
and his wife thinks they can have the children in the nursery and she
can work in one of the factories to help them out while the children are
small. We told them the advantage they would have of buying their food
already cooked, leaving her free to earn all that she could while the
children would have the advantage of every kind of learning that their
minds were capable of receiving, or their age or strength permitted.
“You were not here last year, Mrs. Brown, when the men all came home
from the wheatfields? I suppose you know the society sends all our men
that are required to harvest the grain. Well, they have to go hundreds
of miles away and the last few years when they return they bring the
unmarried men back with them; that is, all who wish to come, to spend
the winter in the Colony. Only a few were married when the Colony
started, so many men go out and take up the land on the prairies and
bush land also. Well, they get settled there and for years never have a
chance to see any women to speak of. Now our Colony invites them to come
here during the winter and, if they want it, we find them work. However,
many come to share the social advantages and to learn the new ideas that
are being taught. It makes the winter very lively, I can tell you. I
never saw so many marriages as this exchange of interests brings about
and they are the right kind, too. This bringing the unmarried men from
those new parts of the country back here where they can find wives and
the sending of our able bodied men out there to work for the summer is
exchanging with a vengeance.”
“But do our men want to go out there?” asked Mr. Brown.
“Certainly,” says Mr. White, “they volunteer. You see our steam wagons
make it possible for them to go with very little expense. They are
fitted up with folding beds, cooking utensils, and with the use of
gasoline for steam and to cook with we make the exchange a very easy
one. They also bring the grain with them when they come. Our men can
earn higher wages by going out there and of course they want to go. Then
the novelty to the young men of sleeping wherever night overtakes them.
The covered wagons are as comfortable as their own beds at home; then
the advantage to the men who have the land and the grain to harvest is
more than most people think, besides having the ready market assured
them at prices that make it pay. It does away with the gamblers and
stock exchange as far as the society is concerned. We store it on our
own property. Well, here we are at our own home. I expect it is near
dinner time, so good-bye for the present.”
They then went to their apartments.
A day long to be remembered was when the boys and men were expected home
from the wheatfields. It had been a successful season and in the Colony
all had been excitement for days, preparing for their return.
“Oh, what a bright day,” a young girl exclaims as she rushes to the
window in the morning. “I am so glad it is fine. We can all enjoy
meeting them together out in the grounds now. I wonder who will see them
first. I wish they would allow us to go on the watch tower. We could see
so far away from there.”
Several other girls were now at the windows and one said, “Do you see
the dust just beyond the hill? That is them.”
Then they rushed into the homes to tell the news. Soon the verandas were
filled with expectant and happy faces, all wishing to get a glimpse of
the dear ones returning to their homes.
Such an army as it takes to attend to this industry! Nearly all are able
bodied men and they were waving their handkerchiefs and tossing their
hats in the excitement of getting home again. All were brown as berries.
There were husbands and brothers, sweethearts, fathers, all to be
welcomed and the older women were attending to the dinner for the hungry
men and boys. It was a great event to the boys, especially those who had
gone away for the first time. So many strangers were there to be
entertained also. It was funny to see how shy many of the girls became.
The sparkle of their eyes indicated their excitement as the old and the
new comers appeared.
[Illustration]
All rushed to the balconies to welcome them. Such a happy, jolly lot.
Just then the home band that had gone out to meet them struck up the
glad strain of “Welcome Home,” while cheer after cheer sounded again and
again. A father lifted a little child up on his shoulder after kissing
her. She struggled and tried to get down, looking startled at such
familiarity. Every one roared, laughing, until some one cried out, “It
is a bad case when your own children won’t recognize you.” “This is
papa,” you would hear in one direction, or brother, as the case might
be, while many were trying to coax the little ones to kiss them. All
were so tanned and dusty, yet looking well and strong.