Faith and Good Works

New Zealand Listener, Volume 32, Issue 810, 4 February 1955, Page 9

Faith and Good Works

by

SUNDOWNER

DECEMBER 27

come when they are called without hope of reward. Hudson saw them in England, and they have appeared from time immemorial in the literature and legends of Europe and Asia. But we don’t seem to breed them in New Zealand. In four years I have not implanted in Elsie anything that I ‘could call a disinterested regard for me _ personally. must be cows that

She comes when I call if the way is

not too steep, the distance not too great, the heat not too troublesome, or another paddock not too dim for her dul] mind, But in general she does not come. She looks, and listens, and watches to see if there is anything exciting to follow. If there is not, or she thinks there is not, she resumes her grazing or cud-chewing and at once, I am sure, forgets the interruption. Betty is a shade more responsive, since she does come. sometimes, answers my call now and again with one of her own, and appreciates having her ears, head and throat rubbed if I go to her instead of waiting for her to come to me. She is, of course, in full milk, and no doubt associates me vaguely with relief from tension when her bag is full. She also gets more petting than Elsie, whose calf is still running with her after seven months, and keeping alive in her some traces of protective aloofness. But I do not deceive myself about one or the other. They are neither wholly indifferent to me nor genuinely devoted to me. I am a part of their world which they have learnt not to resent or fear, but which means nothing closer or warmer than that unless it offers food, or escape, or both. ff cows in 50 years ar@|quseum pieces in a margarine nourish, { world-a fate forecast for them by a Lincoln College lecturer who has been looking at some oil-palm countries-it will not be their fault if no tears water their way to oblivion, but they will have done very little to start the tears flowing. ~ os

DECEMBER 30

" ERE is the kind of letter it is still possible to receive in New Zealand: My son took over a much neglected farm 21% years ago. Of its 1450 acres, 500 acres

are relatively flat, and 300 of these had been heavy totara forest milled 50 years ago. With the help of two brothers, a tractor, giant discs, and heavy harrows, he has cleared 250 acres of stumps, and ploughed the whole 500 acres. Last year he had 700 sacks of wheat, and he will probably have the same this year. In addition the boys have cut down rimu, totara, matai and pinus growing on the property, and built a 4-stand woolshed without help from outside. I would like to show you. this place.

And I would like to see it. But I don’t need to see it to believe. I know my_ correspondent and accept his facts). What seeing might bring me is the thought that there is a Cadillac in every farm labourer’s lunch bag. Not every labourer can find it. But the reward is there for those who know where to look for it, and how. There remains ore question that some readers will think’ crucial: the capital and credit of this young man when he started. I

don’t know how much money he had or how far he was guaranteed at his bank: whether his father countersigned his cheques or some stock

and station firm liked the look and

sound of him. When Earle Vaile "pioneered the pumice" 40 years ago, and 25 years later published the record-a story that would have been a farming sensation if it had not appeared at the beginning of our most terrible war-TI wanted to know how much money he had when he went into the pumice country. He wrote at once and told me, and for those days it was a substantial ameunt. But it was not enough to make hard work unnecessary, or initiative, or wise planning; to cover up neglect or blunders; or take him home again in safety if his pioneering failed. That, I am sure, is the story: of my correspondent’s son in Hawke's Bay. Whoever satisfied the bank to begin

with, it was courage, enterprise, sound planning, and ceaseless work that kept the guarantee good. I am not young enough to think that what he has done any farmer’s son could do if he tried. My point is that when a man does appear with the necessary ‘qualifications the opportunity still exists for the application of his talents. This farm was lying neglected for all Hawke’s Bay to see. When it was offered for sale by auction there was one bidder. an por ta

DECEMBER 31

col Ld : FIND it pleasant when a _ visitor catches me _ scything, or gtubbing | gorse, or hanging a new gate; not so

pleasant if he finds me_ dagging sheep or tailing lambs. But I should not be capable of these different reactions. I should be as proud to be cleaning a fly-blown ewe as to be pruning roses or making hay; especially when I do the first job with some | skill, the other . two. clumsily. In my Utopia all jobs would have thesame value, and bring. the same reward; and I am not going to re--veal at present how I would get them all done. : But I recently met

a young. Englishman | whose complaint, I thought, was legitimate. He came to New Zealand anxious | to learn to farm, booked in to a good hotel, and inserted an honest advertise--ment offering his services to anyone in

the country who could find room

for. Air ubtiic * School boy whose chief qualifications were gwod health and zeal. Several replies caiwe to the hotel, and from these he chose what seemed like a suitable offer. He would be given an opportunity to learn everything that’ was done on the property, a medium-sized sheep run, and as soon as he was worth anything he would be paid current wages. He arrived on a Saturday night, spent a pleasant Sunday with a cowman-gar-dener and two shepherds, and reported in tweeds on Monday morning for his first lesson. The boss, who believed in learning eu doing, took him to a sty in which |ithere was a litter of young pigs, gave | him a knife, and told him to castrate _the boars. He was not told, and at first | did not know, which were boars and | which sows, and when he had solved peek problem-the boss had deliberately gone away-he still had to catch his | victims and decide what to do next. By ten o’clock he had caught one ani‘mal, sat On-its head to stifle its squealing, cut it about. and covered. himself to his elbows with blood. Then the ‘boss’s two daughters arrived with a billy of tea, a cup, a scone, and insupportably pleasant smiles. It was the end. He liberated his pig, refused the tea, refused explanations, went to the hut and washed, and left next morning. A joke is a joke, but that man’s report when England receives it will be something that we richly deserve. . (To be continued)