From the Hamilton Times. September 18, 1909.
“A
citizen who for some weeks has been taking a great interest in Hamilton market
and the life of the farmer and fruit man started out yesterday to find out a
few things for himself. He spent the night among them, and this is what he
writes of what he saw:
“For
some weeks a perplexing question has been ‘where do all the farmers stay for
the night who come to the market in the early afternoon, prior to market day?’
“I
knew they did not return home, because their wagons were on the market all
night and the horses in a stable. The question aroused my curiosity, for
hundreds of farmers come to the city in the afternoon preceding the regular
market days, and at bedtime, I had seen few farmers around the hotels.
“’Where
do they stay?’
“I
have found out.
“Last
night, I donned the oldest clothes I could find, substituted for my linen
collar a muffler of many colors, and for my Christy hat an ‘ear warmer’ and in
short made myself look a farmer in his dishabille.
“It
was nearing 11 o’clock last night when I went to the market square, and I loitered
around in conversation with some of the famers, and while standing in front of
the wagons dozens of people asked me the price of everything from onions to
watermelons, and reluctantly I had to confess ignorance, and the look on their
faces seemed to say ‘What kind of farmer are you anyway?’
“After
chatting with several farmers and getting my suction pipe of curiosity down in
their well of information< I succeeded in finding out what I wanted to know;
that was where the farmers slept during the night.
“By 11
o’clock, I had become very friendly with a young fruit farmer from Bartonville,
with whom I intimated a desire to stay through the night. Whether or not he
thought I was a young farmer, a stranger, I cannot positively say, but he
invited me to ‘come and dig in’ with him in the barn of a nearby livery stable,
where he said about 200 farmers slept.
‘ ‘Where
do the other farmers stay,’ I questioned.
“ ‘Some
in other barns, some in hotels and some on their wagons.’
“ ‘Where
do the women stay all night?’
“ ‘Oh,
most of them sleep on their wagons where it is a fine night.’
“However,
he signified his intention of going to the barn, so I went with him.
“ ‘Will
you let me share your robe?’
“ ‘Why,
certainly.’
“So
off we started ; in a few minutes we were at the stable, and he went and gave a
final look at his horse before going to the barn. ‘Now, follow me,’ he said. We
climbed a ladder to the barn, over a stable.
“It
was as black as the office cat when we got into the loft, and the first thing I
knew I was falling over men almost every step I took, and I had grave
apprehensions of planting my foot accidentally on some sleeper’s face, which
would probably arouse his ire sufficiently to impel to put his fist in mine.
“There
was a plentiful supply of hay in the barn, loose and in bundles, or I think they
call them ‘trusses.’ When my eyes became used to the light, I could get men
curled up in robes everywhere. My farmer friend evidently knew the way and made
for a corner and I followed closely on his heels.
“He
found the desired spot, and down we both planted ourselves in the
sweet-smelling hay, to the accompaniment of loud snoring from many of the other
occupations. I was given good half of my companion’s robe, and very soon he was
helping in the nocturnal orchestra, while I lay for a time thinking and
listening to the horses munching their supper below and to a number of cackling
geese in the yard., which seemed to be conscious of a stranger near, and were holding
a discussion on the subject in the language of their tribe. I thanked
Providence that I was not a farmer. The night before I was at the manufacturers’
banquet, and as I looked then at the
lovely dishes of fruit there, the peaches with their pink and red cheeks,
apples which seemed to be in a fever, so red were they, and at all the other luscious
fruit, I wondered how many there had any
idea what it cost to get them there.
“However,
I was tired and soon fell asleep, but was repeatedly awakened by men coming in
for the night. Heads would be poked up and warnings shouted as to where men
were sleeping and I had serious misgivings that someone would plant his foot
across my physiognomy. There was no talking in that bedroom; nor discussion on
whether Cook’s or Peary’s story was authentic about the discovery of the North
Pole or whether any beneficial results had been accomplished by the
manufacturers’ convention either for themselves or for the masses.
“Finally,
I fell into a long sleep. The next thing I was conscious of was a man telling
me it was half past four, accompanied by a tap on the ribs and the owner of the
robe saying he must get up to breakfast and wanting to know if I was ready. I
replied in the affirmative, so up we got and, as I passed through the barn to
the ladder of descent, I saw scores of tired-looking men curled up in rugs in
the hay. One sight particularly caught my eye. It was a young lad about 15
years of age, half resting on a bundle of hay and leaning against another, his
head hanging backwards towards his left shoulder, asleep from sheer exhaustion.
I had many queer thoughts on my way to the restaurant, but a large tract of ham
prevented from feeling lonely by two eggs, was served up to me and after it had
been washed down by several gills of steaming tea< I felt more optimistic
and I had as my guest, the young man who had been so kind to me during the
night.
“After
breakfast, I took a walk through the market. It was then 5 o’clock. Many were
stirring, but I saw many curled up in their buffalo robes on their wagons, numbers
of whom were women.
“I
went home, changed my clothes and returned to the market in time to see the
women stirring, but how pinched they looked, for it was a cold night.
“Many
of those women I saw on the market this morning are mothers of nation builders,
and in two short week their sons and daughters will be returning to the
universities.
“ ‘But
why do farmers and their wives come to market the day before?’ you ask. The answer
is simply to secure a stand.
“Then
you ask, ‘Why don’t they stay at hotels. They can afford it?’
“Probably
they can, but where is the hotel to accommodate scores of men who cannot get
until midnight and up at four, or half past? The need for a large market is
evident, and a suitable place should be provided for the farmers to sleep,
which could be made self-supporting.
“And
yet in face of all these conditions, I saw women buyers on the market quibbling
over five cents on a basket of carrots or peaches, as they case may be – and men
too.
“What
of the effect on the constitutions of the farmers and their wives?
“ ‘It
is hard on a man’s health all right,’ said a farmer to me.
“ ‘It’s
a darned hard thing when a fellow has to come in so early to get a stand,’ said
another. ‘And everybody unloads abuse on the farmer, he is a hayseed, a rube,
and a hundred other abusive names and yet that big banquet the other night
would have looked like a punctured bicycle tire without his energy.’
