Some Men Who Have Done Things, II. Isaac H. Grace

Some Men Who Have Done Things. BY JOHN HENRY EVANS OF THE LATTER-DAY SAINTS' UNIVERSITY.

II. — Isaac H. Grace. BRAINS ON THE FARM.

When you look upon two farms on opposite sides of the road and see that, out of apparently the same soil and conditions, one yields more and better wheat, oats, potatoes, or whatnot, than the other, you naturally ask, "What is the reason for this difference?" And it is quite right that you should. But ten to one you will find the differ- ence in the men who cultivate the two pieces of land, and in the methods they pursue. Isaac H. Grace, so mod- est that he will be afraid to read this, was born at Nephi. And he has lived there all his life, except the three years he spent on the Pacific is- lands doing missionary work. He is a counselor in the Mr. and Mrs. Isaac H. Grace. presidency of the Juab stake. Moreover, he is a fine type of the high-class, thinking, successful

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farmer. It is doubtful if you can find anywhere in our country a better example of what a farmer ought to be. You may find men who cultivate more land. You may find men who are richer. But you will probably not find anyone who could better answer to the call of the twentieth century farm Isaac H. Grace began at the bottom. You cannot find in Nephi today a house so poor as the one he used to live in. His father came from England, in 1851, settled in hard circumstances at Nephi, and died when Isaac, who was the eldest of a large family,was thirteen years old. The father left a hundred-acre farm, which a good many people would look upon as a mere incumbrance, — a stone tied around the neck — in those days of low values. But it proved the richest possible heritage to the Graces, since it meant work, resource, responsibility. Of course, young Isaac, before his father died, went to school, but what a school! He had to quit each year before the brief term was out; and when he went again, he covered the same ground that he had done the year before. He was a great speller — this was his stronghold — and he mowed down the whole row of spellers, just as he has often done since with the tall stands of lucern and timothy. That was a great consolation, and compen- sated for the dearth and uninterest in the other branches. Isaac hired out at day's wages, when the head of the family, the bread winner, was stricken down. He had to. The farm was rented out. — was badly managed which wrung Isaac's But it

heart; and proved, at the same time, that he was a born farmer. Besides, it brought little or nothing in, and that was important. And so, as soon as he could, he brought the old homestead under his own and his brothers' care. They hired a man to run it, keeping

the control themselves, and since then it has yielded a larger return than any farm of similar acreage in the locality. In 1897, when President Lyman was down there, and he and Mr. Grace were on the depot platform waiting for Elder Lyman's train, the latter asked, after his fashion: "Whaf's that land on the bench there?" pointing to the western ridge. "Oh," was the laughing answer, "that's our non-irrigable land. Nobody can do anything with it."

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Nevertheless, said President Lyman, as if he hadn't heard the slander, "Why don't you take it up?" Then the conversation ended— the train coming along. By this time, though, the three boys, at the suggestion of Issac, had formed a company- a sort of united order on a small scale. They lumped their property and earnings. This has proved a far-sighted move, for when the reservoir scheme fell through, the other year, and men lost money on every hand, the loss of the ten thousand dollars the Grace brothers had put into it,was shared among them. But the results of this move have been far from negative merely. It has enabled them to engage in enterprises which otherwise would not have been possible. Each has profited by the wisdom and judgment of the others. For a time, they put every spare dollar that any of them earned into sheep, of which in the end they sold a big flock at a good figure. During these years Isaac worked as carpenter, which occupation he characteristically transformed into that of contractor. But always Isaac's heart yearned for the farm, wholly. To be sure, he had farmed meantime, but on a small scale. He longed to give his entire time to it. And this conversation with President Lyman proved the occasion. Mind you, nobody had ever heard, in those days, of dry farm- ing. Isaac knew nothing of the dry farm. But of that barren bench land the Grace brothers took up a quarter-section each, any- way. None of them knew what to do with the farm except to cultivate it— which they did out of sheer pity for the land that it should lie idle. Of course eveiybody laughed at them for engag- ing in such a bootless enterprise. And now the Grace brothers are laughing, and the others —well, they have taken to cultivating the dry farm, too, on the bench and elsewhere. And now we come to the interesting part. With the hundred- acre farm in the valley and the thousand-acre farm on the bench — for this is what those three quarter-sections became — and with only himself to run them, Isaac knew that he would have to econ- omize his time amazingly. Now, this man, when he finds that a certain thing has to be done, sets his mind to work betimes on the problem. So he said to himself, "Here I have a man, a team, and a harrow, and over yonder a man, a team, and a harrow. Why

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couldn't I put two teams on a big harrow, let one man drive them both, and put this other man somewhere else?" A very proper thing, you see. But where, Mr. Grace, is your big harrow? We have you here on the hip. Not at all! Not at all! For he invents a harrow big enough for four horses: "It won't work," protested the blacksmith who, against his better "judgment," had been almost cudgelled into making it. "Never you mind," was the reply, "You make it, anyhow." And it did work. This practical line of reasoning was followed when any plowing was to be done, or sowing, or reaping— only, there hap- pened to be in these cases no need for invention. If there had been, though, depend upon it, inventions would have followed; for Mr. Grace is not a man to stumble at a little thing like having no proper tools. There is a pretty story, too, about that fine harvester on the Grace farm. He formerly used the header, like all his neighbors. He got the second header in Juab valley— the best that could be got. took four horses to run it. It But latterly on that big farm, became increasingly hard to get hands. Here he was it

"up against it," as the boys put it. But there was another thing. — The header, he thought, was needlessly expensive there was too much waste around the stack. Now it happened that over the mountain in Dog valley, the Widtsoe Dry Farming company had a harvester. Mr. Grace went over and looked at it, talked with the agent of the house which sold the machine, and convinced his brothers, who were a bit conservative, that they ought to get one. With the header it cost just three dollars and twenty-five cents an acre, all told. A little figuring showed Mr. Grace that with the harvester, which cuts and threshes and sacks the grain, the thing could be done for one dollar and a half. As a matter of fact, he told me that now it costs exactly one dollar and forty- five cents. The harvester was paid for in two seasons — that is,

he could buy a harvester every two years out of the difference in the work, not counting the waste resulting from the use of the header. And that was not all. The Widtsoe farm had a steam engine to pull the plow and the harvester. But Mr. Grace decided that for him it was cheaper not to get one. And for this characteristic- reason: He had to have horses, twenty-four of them, to run the

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harvester. As long as he had to keep them, he might just as well use them on the plow. It would cost no more to keep them work-

ing than it would to keep them idle. Besides, he believes that the wide wheels of the steam plow pack the ground, and thus bring smaller returns by exactly that much. And so he does all his work with horses. I knew I should get a sensible answer to my question, and so

I asked what he thought a boy ought to have in the way of quali-

fications for success on the farm. And this was his answer: "First, he ought to like farming." Mr. Grace, you should know, has done this He is at home on the farm. He himself. lives with his hand on earth's pulse. He studies the soil, the plants, with singular care and affection. "And so," he went on, "a boy ought to make up his mind to be contented there, or to get off and go where he can be contented. We never do well what we put only half a heart into." Which is sound, common sense not only on the farm, but everywhere else. "Why do so many boys leave the farm?" I asked. He did not answer the question directly. "If I had a son," he replied— Mr. Grace has only one child^ a daughter — "this what I would do with him: I would send him is

to a good agricultural college.I would give him the benefit of

the best information anywhere on the matter of farming. You know," he went on parenthetically, "I believe fully in the work of agricultural colleges. Some farmers don't, but I do. We don't know everything — we who have been raised on a farm. Last year I spent two months at Provo attending the summer institute. At these institutes we can get a lot that will help us in our work. And so I would have my boy up to date in scientific knowledge. "Meantime, if I could, I would work with him in the field, and I wouldn't give him such work either as I didn't want to do myself. I believe in treating everybody — animals and — just asall

I would like to be treated myself." Mr. Grace has always said that if there are animals in heaven, his will all come back to him, because he has treated them well. "Then I would give him the best tools I could buy. Some don't do this. They give John and William the old set of harness, the dull hoe with the cracked handle. I don't believe in that.