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Mountain Life & Work vol. 09 no. 3 October, 1933

Mountain Life & Work vol. 09 no. 3 October, 1933 Council of the Southern Mountains 400dpi TIFF G4 page images University of Kentucky, Electronic Information Access & Management Center Lexington, Kentucky 2003 mlwv9n31033 These pages may freely searched and displayed. Permission must be received for subsequent distribution in print or electronically. Mountain Life & Work vol. 09 no. 3 October, 1933 Council of the Southern Mountains Berea College; Council of the Southern Mountains Berea, Kentucky October, 1933 $IMLS This electronic text file was created by Optical Character Recognition (OCR). No corrections have been made to the OCR-ed text and no editing has been done to the content of the original document. Encoding has been done through an automated process using the recommendations for Level 1 of the TEI in Libraries Guidelines. Digital page images are linked to the text file. VOL IX OCTOBER, 1933 NUMBER 3 Woodpiles and Haystacks --A1hn Faton t Education and the Valley Problem -George Fort Milton 9 Six of His Sons Came Home -O. Latham Hatcher Penland Goes to the Fair -Bonnie Willis Ford 19 The Coming of the Waters -Ruth Louise Parker 22 Dependent Children in the Southern Mountains -H. W. Hopkirk 25 Summer Activities 27 Book Reviews 30 Published Quarterly at Berea College, Berea, Ky., in the interest of fellowship and mutual understanding between the Appalachian Mountains and the rest of the nation MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK VOL. IX OCTOBER, 1933 NUMBER 3 Mountain Life and Work is happy to present this article taken from the talk by Mr. I?aton at the American Country Life Conference at Blacksburg, Virginia. (See page 28) -I?ditirriaL Note I have been asked to say a few words about the two exhibitions now in place in this hall. I am glad to do this because both the "Color Prints of Rural Scenes and Country Life" and the "Handicrafts of the Southern Highlands" express better than my words can a part of what I want to say. But before I begin talking of the exhibitions and of other things, I want to state briefly the main ideas which I have planned to bring out in this talk. If we are to realize the slogan of the American Country Life Association to build in America a rural civilization finer than the world has ever seen, we must bring about a greater appreciation of beauty both in the things which we do and the things which we enjoy. Country people want the arts to occupy a larger place in their lives and in their work. They have, many statements to the contrary notwithstanding, shown a real love of beauty of which I think this exhibition of handicrafts furnishes some evidence. But if the arts arc to become a vital part of country life the initiative must come from the country people themselves, and the arts must be expressive of the rural scene and rural work; they must be rooted in the soil, and not be an importation of an urban concept of art. If we are to develop a genuine understanding of rural culture we as country people mast learn to see our surroundings through the eyes of the artist and do our work with the soul of the artist. Thus will come a new idea of beauty, a new understanding of art in which all people may take some part, for art is nothing more or nothing less than the doing well of something that needs to be done. This simple but sound definition of art will help us to see beauty in our daily sur WOODPILES AND HAYSTACKS Allen Eaton roundings and to express it in the doing of simple thlngS. I wish to talk about the arts of rural life and say something incidentally about these exhibitions. I think it is accurate to say that these exhibitions are an outgrowth of the work of the Committee on Rural Cultural Arts of the American Country Life Association which was appointed after the convention at Madison, Wisconsin, in October 1930. Perhaps you would be interested in a brief outline of what this committee has done and is trying to do. This so-called Cultural Arts Committee included from the beginning a rather large membership of men and women from different parts of the country who had shown special interest in the cultural side of country life. We were scheduled for one meeting at Madison, and I went over with the expectation of attending it and getting away. But instead of one session we had four. At the beginning of the first session it was proposed that we embark upon a nation-wide plan of holding contests and making awards for proficiency in the arts of rural life. This idea was making considerable headway, and I believe we all saw ourselves pinning badges on the winners of all kinds of contests, when someone asked, "What do we mean by rural cultural arts anyway?" There soon developed a healthy variety of opinion on the subject, with the net result that we dropped our badges and the contest idea and decided, unanimously too, to spend at least the first year in trying to find out what we really did mean by rural cultural arts. As our definition took shape we inquired what was being done throughout the country that was related to it. In my free time at Madison I went to all the other sessions of that conference that I could. And this is what I found: At nearly all of these meetings, whatever the subject on the program, when the discussion period came men and women Page 2 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND NVoftK October, 1933 from the farms were saying in substance, "We've heard too much about the economic side of farm life. We've got to make a living to be sure, but we ought to begetting more of the finer things out of the country." Sometimes some one would say something about beauty. These sentiments were all the more significant because they came largely from people li`ing in the then droughtstricken areas of the Middle West and South and from other sections where the bottom seemed to have dropped out of farming. The absence of complaint, but the yearning for finer living so many times expressed, I shall never forget. The more our Cultural Arts Committee studied the rural arts situation the stronger grew our desire to do something that would help rural people see and care for the beauty of the countryside and get the esthetic satisfactions that come from country life and country work. This desire led one day to the suggestion that we try at one of our conventions to have some kind of exhibition that would show how artists in different times and in different countries have interpreted the rural scene. Fortunately for us the American Federation of Arts had, over a period of years, collected in both Europe and America a large number of good color print reproductions of famous paintings. This collection included a number of rural scenes, enough to give us a start toward an excellent exhibition of color prints of rural scenes and country life. With this nucleus the Federation assembled about one hundred and thirty very interesting prints picturing country life in England, Germany, France, Sweden, Czechoslovakia, Switzerland, Italy, and a large number from paintings in our own country. This was, as far as I know, the first exhibition of the kind ever assembled. It was shown at the Country Life Conference last autumn at Oglebay Park, West Virginia, for the first time, and the same collection is shown here today. At the meeting at Oglebay Park, memorable for a number of reasons, there developed an unusual interest in the artistic things being done by country people, especially in the handicrafts both for home and for farm use, and in some cases .or sale to supplement the farm income. The desire was expressed there that we secure if possible for this meeting an exhibition of this rural handiwork. Fortunately again for us the South ern Highland Handicraft Guild and the American Federation of Arts were then working on an exhibition of rural handicrafts made in the mountain sections of Virginia, West Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee, Kentucky, and northern Georgia; and we again turned to the Federation for help, with the result that an arrangement was made to ha\ a the initial showing of this collection at this conference. Later it will be circulated by the Federation throughout the country. I was saying at the beginning that if we as a nation are to realize the great slogan of this Association, "to build in America a rural civilization finer than any the world has ever known," we must give beauty and the arts a larger place in farm work and farm life. The country is the natural setting for the arts. It is here as in no other place that nature, the work of God, and art, the work of man, meet with possibilities for harmony which neither has alone, but which united give beauty its highest expression. And may I add that the rural population of America will never be adequately prized either by itself or by the nation as a whole as long as it measures its own worth entirely or mainly in terms of economic achievement. Now although the initiative to give beauty and the arts a larger place in country life must come from the people who live in the country, yet the great task, if I may call the enrichment of country life a task-I would rather call it an adventurewill require the thorough cooperation of both rural and urban people. The cities at the present time have the facilities for reference, for research -the libraries, art galleries, museums, foundations, art schools, and much of the trained personnel that could be utilized (if properly directed) in the great work before us. These forces must be utilized without allowing them to dominate the situation. The rural people of America need all the help they can get from any source in building up a worthy life and a worthy culture. But the main point in building up this standard of life and living in which all the arts are to play a greater part is to see that it is a real, and indigenous rural culture, and not the transplanting of a second-hand city concept. Agriculture, broadly speaking, is not merely a way of making a living, but largely a way of building a life. When we think of farm life in October, 1933 MOUNTAIN 1,iFF AND WORK Page 3 this way we begin to inquire what arc these clcments that make it worth while and sooner or later-and I fear with many of us it is a little later-the value of beauty comes in, beauty either created or enjoyed. In all the books I have read, and that isn't so many, and all the speeches I have heard, and that isn't a few, the rural people are always spoken of as living in the country. "Rural people" to my way of thinking includes a lot of folks who are not "dirt farmers," as country people like to designate the real farmer. The point I want to make if I can is that there are probably several millions of folks living in the city who are in reality "rural people." They are people who have lived a part and oftentimes a large part of their lives on the farm. They remember the farm scene, the farm work, the farm folks, and thousands of them would go back to the farm if they could. They will always be in their hearts and in their minds "rural people," and when we are looking about for the forces we can count on to help us build up an appreciation of country life and to join us in efforts to enrich country life by an infusion of the rural arts, I think we should include in our list all those wherever we find them who are genuinely concerned about rural life and invite them all to help advance our program. I have referred to the evidence at the Madison meeting of the hunger of country people for more of the arts, for more beauty in the daily life of the farm. Farming must be regarded not merely as an occupation with an economic end but as a mode of life. That this feeling prevails in many of the rural sections of America there is not the least doubt, and there are increasing evidences everywhere of the bringing into country life and county work of the help, the inspiration, and the power of beauty. But it is with many of our people a long, slow process with some old deepseated prejudices to overcome. It will, I think, help us to understand our problems better and to make the future more secure for the arts if we examine briefly some of the reasons that have stood in the way of the wide acceptance they are destined finally to receive. I think of three ways in which the arts have been hindered in their development in rural life, or for that matter, in American life generally. First, we have actually, a good many of us, been opposed outright to beauty. Some day in looking back this will be hard to understand of America, but it is true beyond any doubt. A great many of our people, especially in the early days of the republic, were opposed to beauty; they feared it and denied it. With many there was a religious fervor against it. Among some people the idea still holds that the enjoyment of beauty, as I would call it, but as they might say, the indulgence in beauty, is apt to undermine the morals and weaken the character. That view, I know, is now changing rapidly. Some of the older churches have long known and our newer ones are finding out that the enjoyment of beauty either through the making of beautiful things or the contemplation of them, is a vital force in the lives of many to whom the church if it opposed this resource could not appeal. But the old-time opposition, the antipathy for beauty, has left its mark which will be a long time in disappearing. The second force which has affected art adversely and has slowed up the march of beauty in American life has been not opposition but indifference to it, especially and unexpectedly noticeable among many of our business leaders. The great outstanding example was, but is no longer, Mr. Henry Ford. Some of us are old enough to remember the model T Ford, which was designed to and really did "take you there and bring you back." Mr. Ford not only thought that this was enough for his car to do, but developed a philosphy to fit the case, and while the practical little flivver was leading everything else in sales, Mr. Ford came out with statements denouncing art and giving beauty the go-by. This continued for some time, in fact until a rival car through some mysterious reason outsold the Ford. When Mr. Ford found that the mysterious reason was the appearance of the other car, he got out another model at a cost of many millions of dollars, and not only pleased countless people who appreciated the artistic, as well as the "take you there and get you back" qualities, but he made many of us happy who, like myself, don't have cars at all, but who read the advertisements about them, by making the beauty of the car its chief advertising headline. Similar attitudes of indifference to appearance obtained for a long time with many of our merchants, notably in the chain stores. Then some Page 4 MOUNTAIN Lire AND WORK October, 1933 thing happened to them. Indifference had to gI 'I now hundreds of thousands of dis ve way unti cerning persons arc seeing and purchasing daily simple inexpensive objects which art in its broad sense has changed from ugliness or indifferent appearance to things of taste and charm. In quantity production the cost of good design is reduced to a minimum, and the ten cent store shopper of today can have hundreds of nice-looking articles which even ten years ago were in the luxury class. When art helps profits a lot of otherwise indifferent people begin to take notice. The third obstacle in the way of the appreciation of beauty, especially in the way of the enjoyment of art, the one about which I wish most to talk to you, is the confusion about it. There are countless people among adults, and many among young people, who do not feel that art is really worth their while, or that beauty is a vital force in life. So much is said and done in the name of art which is insincere, pretentious, or confusing that many people feel it is not for them, but rather for idle women who have nothing else to do or for men of the pink tea variety. This difficulty I think applies as much to the city as it does to the country, but since we are talking about art in rural life today, I will confine my suggestions to the country, and try to indicate some ways in which this confusion can be cleared up and each person become his own critic and enjoy the things which by nature and right belong to him. .Of course it is true that much of our great heritage of beauty belongs to both city and country dweller. But there are certain things, many and beautiful, which belong particularly to the country, and these we should especially encourage; things made of materials native to the country, designs and motifs growing out of the country, and objects which express something of the local~~y from which they come. Toward the end of the conference at Oglebay Park last autumn, some of us were talking at breakfast about the place of arts in country life, and I said in a casual way, "It is not the thing that is done which makes an object a work of art, but the way in which it is done. It may be a painting on canvas, it may be a piece of sculpture in marble, it may be a cathedral in stone, but it may also be a woodpile or haystack." The interesting thing about my small contribution to the breakfast talk, if I may refer to such a casual statement as interesting, was really not what I said, but the way in which the thought came back to me. A day or two after my return to New York an editor called me up and asked me to write for his magazine an article on Woodpiles and Haystacks. I replied that I should like to, but to do it as it should be done would require considerable research in a comparatively unrecognized art field; however, I might in a year or two be able to do it. The same week brought me a letter from a man in Virginia. He said, "On my ride home from Oglebay Park to Blacksburg, I was surprised to see so many attractive haystacks. If I can get good pictures it will be a pleasure to send you some." Two or three weeks later, in November some time, a man wrote me that he was coming through New York in a few days and asked me if I would have dinner with him and his daughter on a certain evening. He told me at dinner what he thought were the outstanding features of the Country Life Conference at Oglebay Park, including the remarkable arrangements and service of Professor Nat T. Frame and his staff, and exhibition of color prints, showing rural life in many countries-the same exhibition we have here. He added, "1 am anxious that we Include in the future programs of the Association more of the cultural side of farm life. Do you know, one of the things I remember best about that meeting at Oglebay Park is what you said about woodpiles and haystacks." By this time I was beginning to feel that what I had said so casually was important and this was borne in on me a little later when in my morning mail I received a letter and two photographs from Iowa. The letter said, "I was riding through the country the other day and I saw a woodpile that reminded me of what you said about art in woodpiles and haystacks. I send you two snapshots of these woodpiles and I thank you for calling my attention to them." I have two reasons for spending so much time on the subject of woodpiles and haystacks. One is that I hope that out of this audience will conic more literary and graphic data to help me prepare the article which 1 have promised for Rural America some time in the future. The other is that I wish to use the words "woodpiles and haystacks" October, 1933 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page S not only as descriptive of two often beautiful features of the rural scene, but as symbols of all farm and rural handicrafts. In asking you to think of woodpiles and haystacks as symbols of the great and interesting variety of work which has always been a part of farm life, I do not want any of you to think that I could not make a case for either the woodpile or the haystack as a true expression of art; I think I could. For what is art but the doing well of somcthing that needs to be done? Surely woodpiles and haystacks come wi hin this definition. If I were going to make a it I I I I r) case I should begin by showing you paintings which famous artists have made of them. There would be Corot's paintings, "The Wood Chop pers," and "The Fagot Gatherers"; Millet's "Woodpiles"; Moneys "Haystacks at Evening"; Riviere's "Haystacks in Brittany"; Carl Larsson's "The Barnyard;" and "The Last Load of Hay" by our own George Inness. Then, when you were in the presence of these great masterpieces of painting, drinking in their beauty, enjoying the atmosphere and the charm of rural things, if you seemed interested enough, I should try to tell you gently and persuasively of the esthetic qualities of my woodpiles. I would tell you of the beautiful American beech which, though in perfect condition, went down in a great slect and wind storm near where I live in Westchester County, New York. While the others were figuring on how to get it out of the way at the least expense, I offered to do it for nothing if they would give me time to study the tree and work it up at my leisure. I got the jobI get a good many jobs that way, doing them for nothing. It was a magnificent tree, a hundred feet high, more than seven and a half feet around its trunk with three ,rcat limbs more than two feet through, and sixty-nine sizable branches. Finally, after months of cutting, it was found to be a hundred and fifty-seven years old, having started life a seedling in 1776. 1 began work on it-work with a one-man saw, during week-ends in early spring before a spear of grass had pushed through the earth around its gnarled grey roots. Then we had the early flowers and soft spring foliage together, then the summer sun and summer rains, the red and gold and russet autumn, and finally two sessions in a snow-storm. I brought it in as a Yule log before Christmas. This fine old beech was the base of my last winter's woodpile, but it was not all I had in my back yard. There were apple, cherry, and red spruce. There are no better woods for the fireplace than beech and apple, but cherry is a good wood, too, and what sweet fragrance in its sawdust and its chips! I kept a basket of chips from the cherry log in the fireplace corner until after Christmas. And the red spruce, a soft, quickburning wood, which by itself would not be so satisfactory for long evening fires, but combined with hard woods is a joy, has a delicious odor, reminding me of the evergreen forests of Oregon where I was born and raised. Then, too, I love the spruce for its crackle and its song. There is no more welcome music to my ear than the sound of blazing spruce or pine wood as the fire on the open hearth gets under way on a cold, crisp winter morning, and the old iron kettle begins to warm up, too. Perhaps all of you will not know the satisfaction which comes to him who cuts his own wood in the autumn and brings it home for the long winter evenings ahead. lie who does this is warmed thrice by the same wood, once.in the forest, then at his woodpile, and finally at the family fireplace-a wonderful economy which too few men can indulge in. But entirely apart from the fragrance of the cherry wood, the sound of the crackling spruce, or the steady purr of the burning beech and apple, and the feeling of warmth as the fire blazes and the blue smoke floats up the chimney, it is also the picture which my woodpile makes out in the back yard that gives it a place in my catalogue of beautiful possessions. I wish you could see the great smooth silver-grey beech logs in autumn, the brown, almost black, flecked bark of the cherry, the warm red and yellow scales of the spruce, and the grey, tan, and green of the apple limbs, all piled together; hopping along them a wood thrush or a robin; or swooping down, resting three or four seconds and sailing off again, a family of five young blue jays; then, darting in and out between the logs, a little striped-backed, tailor-made chipmunk and two grey squirrels hiding nuts away. Or if you wish a quieter scene and even more beautiful, wait until early winter and see the woodpile under the first snowfall. In fall or winter-it is gone Page 6 MOUNTAIN LITE AND WORK October, 1933 by spring-my woodpile has all the qualities that a painting could haN e; form, color, texture, and fragrance besides. It is a worthy subject for a painter to put on canvas. Why is it not one for him who does not paint to store away in memory? And this leads me to ask why country people everywhere should not see their daily surroundings, the beauty of nature and the work of their hands, through the eyes of the artist. Of course many do, many more than we suspect, but countless others would if we made it a little more respectable. And we should encourage it, for what is success in life but getting the most out of our environment? It is th- enjoyment of these rural scenes, these country sounds, the fragrance of woods and meadow, the beauty and wonder of growing things, the glowing days and the starlit nights that make country life unmatchable. If the farmer and his family can .see and enjoy their natural surroundings and their handiwork as the artist must see to paint them, nothing important will be taken away, but much will be added. May I suggest here to any one who may not have thought of seeing things as the artist sees them, how this may be done. Let us resolve any favorite scene or picture into its simple elements, the elements which the artist must see before he can paint it. This is not so difficult. Everything which the artist sees can be resolved into form, color, and texture, or a combination of these. Of course, the longer and more carefully one looks the more and the better will one see, until as one looks at the landscape or the familiar farm scenes they are no longer simply trees, cornfields, and buildings, but pictures with interesting patterns. Perhaps a certain familiar view that has long seemed commonplace will be transformed into a vision of beauty. The great painter, James McNeill Whistler, once said, "There is nothing in nature which at some time of the day or night is not beautiful." Choose some scene not especially attractive and watch it from dawn until the stars come out. You will not only find, I think, that it is at solve time beautiful, but likely that it is often beautiful. L had a pleasant experience of this kind, so simple that it may not seem worth relating, yet it has come to mean a good deal to me. On my walk from home to the railroad station is an ugly grey house with all uninteresting front gable, the stucco spotted with flinty pebbles, rather harsh, sharp, and cold. As I passed by it in the early mornings and evenings I often thought, "Why couldn't the people who built that house have been a little thoughtful of me and given the gable a better form, the stucco a better color and texture?" A better effect could have been had at less cost. On night I was late in getting home from work. It was winter. Darkness had taken the flinty look from the face of the gable, and stretching clear across it was the shadow of a maple limb. The dark grey background, the darker shadow of the limbs with their beautiful sweep, and the lacy network of the small branches outlined by a street lamp made a shadow of unusual beauty, indeed the nicest shadow in our village. But not only are the changes of the day and night full of interest and often surprises, with always some moment of beauty, but the same thing holds true of the seasons of the year. Who has not seen an ugly little town turned into an enchanted village by a night of snowfall on the roofs? Or a mud-puddle in the country road transformed in to a glorious picture by the reflection of a great pink cloud? The poet sings of the rain pool in the country I an, too small for winds 'ho mar my surfaceYet I hold a starWhich teaches me, Though low n,y lot, That highest heaven Forgets rne not. These are pictures for country folk. Only they know the changes in the seasons, the passing of day into night, the countless landscape pictures, and the march of wonder and beauty throughout the year. How much a little scene may do for us, or how much a minor event may mean! These experiences often determine our mood for hours or days and may give us springs to draw from that will continue to enrich our lives as long as memory lasts. Do you remember Robert Frost's four line storv? The way a crow shook down on me The dust of snow from a hemlock tree Has given my heart a change of mood And spared the part of a day I had rued. All these thoughts lead to another, a plain and simple thought, but more important perhaps than any t could leave with you-the thought of beauty in common things. October, 1933 MOUNTAIN Liar. AND WORK Page 7 I believe that the highest and best development of all the arts in America will come through an appreciation of beauty in those things with which we live day by day. I believe that a large number of our people will never experience the pleasure, the inspiration, and the solace of beauty in man-made things unless they get it from their home surroundings or from creative work which they find close at hand. To include the common things in our definition of art, or as the poet might say, in our catalogue of lovely things, does not mean that we shall leave out oil-painting, marble sculpture, or stone cathedrals. We shall include them all, but in addition to cathedrals we will make a place for beautiful simple churches, such as one sees in New England; log cabins, such as one sees in the Highlands of the South and West; some barns from Pennsylvania; stone bridges; rail and picket fences; cottage flower and vegetable gardens; carefully laid-out wheat and corn fields; and many other well-done things, including woodpiles, haystacks, homemade furniture, hand-loom weavings, patchwork quilts, and even jellies and preserves in attractive containers; apple pies, when made of the right apples with nicely pinched-in scallops around the edges, pretty designs cut into the top, and a crust with a color and texture in keeping with the contents. An apple pie becomes a work of art when the cook, having selected the best apples available and the best flour and other ingredients to be used for the crust, gives it good form, good color, and good texture in addition to and in keeping with a fine flavor and a fine fragrance. By reserving a place for worthy examples of common things, we shall lose nothing, I am sure, from the great and glorious field of fine arts, and we shall gain much in the enjoyment of beauty by discovering and encouraging it in the making and arranging of simple things. In this talk on the arts of country life, we have limited ourselves to visual arts, those in which we get our enjoyment through the sense of sight. I think I did get out of bounds when I invited you to smell the basket of cherry chips, to enjoy the fragrance of an apple pie. But altogether we have been concerned with what the eye sees. If the generosity of the country were limited to the sense of sight alone, it would still be the best place for man to live. HoweN er, the country is just as rich for satisfying all the other senses. I cannot refrain from reading to you as fine a description of the country as I know, which suggests how it naturally contributes to the development of all the senses during childhood." All children ought to be familiar with the open country. They should know the joy of playing in healthful mud, of paddling in clean water, of hearing roosters call up the sun, and birds sing praises to God for a new day. They should have the vision of pure skies enriched at dawn and sunset with unspeakable glory; of dew drenched mornings flashing with priceless gems; of grain fields and woodlands yielding to the feet of the wind; of the vast night sky "all throbbing and panting with stars." They should feel the joy of seed time and harvest, of dazzling summer moons, and of creaking glittering winter nights. They should live with flowers and butterflies, with the wild things that have made possible the world of fables. They should experience the thrill of going barefoot, of being out in the rain without umbrellas and rubber coats and buckled overshoes; of riding a white birch, of sliding down pine boughs, of climbing ledges and tall trees, of diving head first into a transparent pool. They ought to smell the smell of wet earth, of new-mown hay; of the blossoming wild grape; of an apple orchard in May and of a pine forest in July; of the crushed leaves of wax myrtle, sweet fern, mint, and firs; of the breath of cattle and of fog blown inland from the sea. They should hear the answer the trees make to the rain, and to the wind; the sound of rippling and falling water; the muffled roar of the sea in a storm, and its lisping and laughing and clapping of hands in a stiff breeze. They should know the sound of the bees in a plum tree in May, of frogs in a bog in April, of grasshoppers along the roadsides in June, or crickets out in the dark in September. They should hear a leafless ash hun,, a pine tree sigh, old trees groan in the forest, and the floating ice in a brook, making its incomparable music beneath the frozen crystal roof of some flooded glade. They should have a chance to chase butterflies, to catch fish, to ride on a load of hay, to camp out, to cook over an open fire, to tramp through new country, and to sleep under the open sky. Thcy should have the fun of driving a horse, paddling a canoe, and sailing a boat, and discovering that nature will honor the humblest seed they plant. Things that children can do in cities are not to be compared with such country activities. Out of the country and its experience has come and always will come the most stimulating and healthful art of the world. One cannot appreciate and enjoy to the full extent nature, books, novels, histories, poems, pictures, or even tnusical compositions, who has not had in his youth the blessed contact with the world of nature. This delightful word picture of childhood in the country recalls and reveals two thoughts I would like to leave with you. The first is, as I have said, that in rural life our enjoyments are not limited to the visual arts, that is to the things which folk see through the eyes. These experiences are of course only a small part of the enjoyments within reach of those who live and work in the country. Sight, one of God's great gifts to man, is but one. I wish that we might spend a little time on the other four senses, hearing, tasting, smelling, and feeling, each of From The Children's Birthright by Henry Turner Bailey. Page 8 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK October, 1933 which has a vast field for esthetic enjoyment, especially for country folk. The other thought which The Children's Birthright suggests to me is of one of the "great common errors" which we indulge in daily. That is that childhood is always the happiest period of every life and when it is over we must leave behind us these priceless experiences and take our place in what we call a real, practical world. In the first place, childhood to many is not the happiest period of life. It was not the happiest time for Ire. I will not go into the details of disappointments, sorrows, fears, feelings of helplessness because I could not correct injustice or do other things that ought to have been done, which it would be too late to do when I grew up. I do not look back upon my childhood as an unhappy one, because I developed a marvellous ability to forget, which for some children ranks next in importance to the ability to remember; but in sincerity I must say that for me childhood was far from that carefree, joyous period which a lot of people are always talking about. I believe the reason people look upon childhood as a perfect period of life is because they remember only the best of it. The importance of that best we cannot over-estimate. Many a grownup has fought through his hardest battle because he has been supported by memories of his childhood. I believe that there is no more certain way to keep the priceless experiences of childhood fresh arid green, continuing them through life, than by the constant quest for beauty. To try each day to see more clearly the wonder and the beauty of the earth, to make each task contribute a little more to the glory of the combined work of God and man, this I think is one of the most certain roads to happiness. There is a direct line which leads from a worthy piece of work to an adequate appreciation of human values in our fellow men. I want to close by reading the words of a favorite author of mine, John Galsworthy of England, who toward the end of his life left this message on the need for beauty: Sentiment apart, the ideal of beauty is the best investment modern man can crake. Science has developed destructive power which increases a hundredfold each decade, and the Great War was a little war compared with that which might be waged next. Nothing but the love of beauty in its broadest sense, a higher cotaception of the dignity of human life, stands between Man and the full and reckless exercise of his competitive appetites. Our civilization, if it is to endure, must have a star on which to fix its eyes-something distant and magnetic to draw it on beyond the troubled needs and prejudices of the moment. In these unsuperstitious days no ideal seems possible save beautyor call it, if you will, the dignity of human life; the teaching of what beauty is to all, so that we wish and work and dream that not only ourselves but everybody may be healthy and happy; and above all, the fostering of the habit of doing things and making things well, for the joy of the work and the pleasure of achieveinent. October, 1933 MOUNTAIN L1FE AND WORK Page 9 EDUCATION AND THE TALLEY PROBLEM George F. Milton This article was originally prepared as an address to an assemblage mainly of university officers and teachers. In printing it, we have omitted a little matter especially directed to the listeners. Therefore if its opening seerus abrupt, our readers will understand that the blame is ours, not the writer's, and will also see the reason for the various university references. But we believe that the article has interest for a much wider group than the original audience. -Editorial Note. In this extraordinary modern world of ours human society needs, probably more than it does any other one thing, the provision of instrumentalities for social thinking, communal planning, economic integration, intellectual prevision. If our people are to be adjusted to the new economics which is clearly ahead for the world, these social tools must be designed, forged, and put to use. Doubtless all of us will agree that amazing changes in our economic set-up are even now in course. For the past two centuries the world has posited its actions upon an economy of want. Thanks to the shadow of Dr. Malthus, we have felt there was a race on between subsistence and population, with subsistence losing in the race. All our individual thrift and saving, all our corporate business activity, with carefully nurtured earned surplus accounts and highly hypothetical reserves for depreciation, all our national economic drift, has been attuned in greater or less 'degree to this believed economy of want. We have thought, with Poor Richard, that a penny saved is a penny earned. We have put our savings into more producer's goods, to give us more savings, to give us still more factories or farms. Now suddenly we wake up, the morning after the night before, and realize that actually we are living in an economy of plenty, that we have far too much producer's goods in the world, and that, therefore, people are starving to death; that our problem is not to grow enough food in the world to feed our people, but rather it is to increase effective consuming capacities, to proportion our agencies of production to our abilities to move their product, to forget those fanciful myths of self-regulatory principles such as the famous law of supply and demand, and to establish definite and purposive controls of our own. Indeed, we now come to believe that, while laws in the natural world may be discovered, that there is no Newtonian physics in manmade society; that self-regulation, automatic adjustment, are almost fable, that man's task in the social world is not to discover an eternal but elusive principle; that there is no economic philosopher's stone-On the contrary, we must invent and apply our own techniques for the control of man-made processes. Of course, as mental concepts, discovery and invention are poles apart. It requires a rather vigorous recasting of our idealogy to make the shift. Necessarily, such reorganizations of thinking about our basic economic structure have been slow and faltering. As we pass out of an economy of want into an economy of plenty, most of us don't know which end is up. So long have we been taught that two plus two equals three, that now when we are shown that two plus two equals five, we angrily repel the thought. Let us put it another way. We are marching toward a planned and ordered society. We are marching toward a world in which the individual's particular desires, economic as well as social, must increasingly be controlled for the general communal good. But we Americans are peculiarly inhibited against thinking in these terms because of the fact that, in an unusual degree, we still are in the grip of the frontier mind. Our physical frontiers exist no longer. Civilization's keen cutting edge has felled the wilderness, our forests have been cut, our oil domes tapped, our coal shafts sunk, our railroads built. The pioneer in hunting shirt, with butcher-knife in his belt, the homesteader on the prairie with covered wagon and sod house, these are found in history books, along with Tecumseh and Biddle's Bank, and nullification and the underground railroad, and Little Iv.va and Uncle Tom. In major measure, our Golcondas have been discovered, our wilderness explored, our virgin soil made fruitful. America's economic structure today no longer yields itself so obediently to the ruthless individualist. Today we have need for an ordered, integrated society. Today we must have a constant betterment of technique, a close Page 10 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK October, 1933 coordination of individual activities, an economic integration of our great resources, whether these be of nature or of man. But while there is this need, none the less, intellectually, Americans still wear hunting shirts and still carry butcherknives. The pity of it is that the frontier mind is increasingly unable to mister the intricate problems of a complex society. In other words, we must have a new mental cliin ite for our growth; society has passed through its cocene; let us now develop the neocene social mind. And here it is that I see the major duty of the schools of business and of the whole universities of this nation-they must arm the coming generation with the type of intellectual equipment which our new economic and social structure demands. Doubtless you are asking what, specifically, I would suggest. I would not presume to suggest what any one of you should do about his own region's problems. I would like to venture one or two suggestions which occur to me about the problem in my own state of Tennessee. Let me remind you that we have a bold and puissant river, and that the valley of this river has recently been selected by the President of the United States as the setting for a long-range economic and sociologic experiment hitherto unknown in our American experience. To put it in a phrase of sociology, our Tennessee watershed is to be the scene of an effort to build an Optimum society. Our immense latent resources-water p,ower, flood control, transportation, fuel, raw materials, and the other basic elements of industrial production-are to be correlated in a farreaching economic development. We are to have an agriculture oriented to a regional plan. We are to have reforestation, our watersheds are to be restored and protected, our transportation to be quickened, our industries to be given breath and depth. Yes, if President Roosevelt has his way about it-and this has become a habit with himour Tennessee Valley will become Exhibit A of the new America. As late as a century and a half ago, these greenclad mountains, these smiling valleys, these broad and fertile plains were the abode of the Indian. During most of the last century, a touch of the frontier still lingered, and the valley remained a place of individual prowess, of individual accom plishment and control; an agricultural section, rooted in and close to the nurturing soil. There were certain rare qualities of a civilization thus cradled beneath the stars and lulled by the winds sighing through the trees. Man recognized his personal responsibilities, and the necessity for self-sufficing toil. He had a chance for self-communion. His picture-show was the woodlands, his "talkie" the sweet-throated birds. He was an individualist, probably unskilled in letters, but the master of his own soul. Already in the last few years has come the beginning of a great industrialization, a crowding together of multitudes. There is coning a time when this individualist is to be taken into a modern factory, and to be put to the never ending task of drilling a hole in a steel plate. It may be that, even so, he will be better situated, that his children will have the chance to attend better schools, that he will live in a better home. But be not too sure about it. The change will have certain aspects of the tragic. The machine is ruthless to its servants. Only its master does it obey. All of which confronts our section with probably as fundamental a question as ever faced unfettered folk. The machine in itself is neither bad not good, an instrument of neither ethical nor social signification. It assumes these qualities from the way in which it is used. It is a tool of production, a lever by which to lengthen the reach of the human arn,,-to lend cunning to the clumsy fingers of the average man. If we control it in the proper fashion, industrialization can be an infinite blessing to the Tennessee Valley and to the South. And it can be quite otherwise. We can have man harnessed to the machine, spending his life the bond-servant of the tool. That which should strike off his shackles may become but another fetter to hinder his living a free and noble life. What I am trying to say is that the social implications of this development seem to me even more important than the introduction of new economic techniques. The social pattern of our Tennessee Valley people is very much like that in Kentucky. They have inhabited the mountains and valleys for generations. Over the years they have cultivated certain values of life, and they want to carry on their own way. Some of them s*If talk Elizabethan English, some still sing bal ti 1 0 October, 1933 MOUNTAIN LirF ANT) WORK Page I1 lads about the sad fate of Barbara Allen, and of the hangman at the forks of the creek. Some of them may prefer a single gallus and a mule to a duplex apartment, a Frigidaire, a radio, and a membership in the Literary Guild. But be this as it may, they have their own scale of values, and who am I to sneer at any man's fireside philosophy? This picture is at its brightest in the little mountain cove, and at its bleakest among the bedraggled folk in the mill villages or mining camps, the people who have been regimented against their will. I Of course our valley has many other social characteristics not at all unique. We too have our armies of real estate men awaiting the chance to lay out sub-divisions. We too have our quota of hard working, conscientious, unimaginative business men, whose one ambition is to keep the sheriff from the door-men who stay awake until five in the morning figuring out have they can continue to give employment to workers who understand no more about the why or which of things than do those who hire them. We have farmers who have been brankrupted by an excess of plenty, manufacturers who have produced so competently that they have defaulted on their bonds. In a word, our Valley is just a sample of the rest of the topsy-turvy world. Our people, like some others, are acquisitive in their instincts, non-cooperative in their social habits, indifferently educated, not overly fond of work. Furthermore, our Valley contains both Dayton, the scene of the monkey trial, and Scottsboro, the locus of the latest world cause celebre. This, of course, is not an adequate description of the region which is scheduled to become the Kuhr of America. This is only one side of the picture. The people of our valley have always stood for decency and honor. The human stock is of the very best. There is a staunch courage, a rugged, uncomplaining fortitude, which promises well for any test. I have -aid what I havr merely to hint that the President has set his hand to a task which probably will take him all of tonight and some of tomorrow morning. Seriously, the task of adjusting today's social pattern to tomorrow's economic set-up will undoubtedly involve one of the most far-reaching social reorgan izations that man has ever deliberately set out to make. Nor am I sure that the present generation of our Valley can be fitted to a new pattern so alien to its heredity and experience. I suspect that it will take a new generation, of young minds, more responsive to the new ideas, more alert to the implications of social changes, more impressed with the imponderable living values, more anxious to ascend to the higher rungs in the ladder of satisfaction. We must have such a group, I fear, hefore we will have a society which will be happy in tomorrow's valley. But what hope have we for such a group unless the schools of the region shall educate it? Our own state university has got to become a thinking general staff for our Optimum development. Our society must be trained to understand and to be the master of our economic system. Otherwise, tomorrow may be quite as bleak as is today. May I venture one or two specific suggestions as to the integration of a university into the business life of its state? We in Tennessee, as you in Kentucky and Ohio and Pennsylvania and Illinois, have a great deal of coal. A university so situated ought to integrate itself into the coal problems, along with the other functional aspects of its area. The appropriate faculties of the university should be expert as to the technique of mining coal, the structural set-up of efficient mine management, mechanics of selling and shipping coal, the efficient way to burn it without polluting the air with smoke. Such instruction, I am sure, is offered now in the leading universities in the great coal producing states. But a university can do all this, and do it very competently, and still it will not have more than begun to do a complete job. There is a basic economics to the coal industry which must be studied carefully. Our nation will not much. longer permit the present analesthization of effective human capacity which is involved in our haphazard feast or famine production of this great essential commodity. One can see in the most distant future the institution of a federal control of coal, perhaps through the issuance of ccrtifrcates of convenience and necessity, these certificates to be denied the high cost of production marginal mines. Then too, there is a social dynamics to coal. Page 12 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK October, 1933 All too often, the man who mines it is on the fringe of hunger and of heartbreak. Coal miners come to blame the operators as oppressors and grinding masters, operators to look on the miners as would-be Bolsheviks. In fact, both groups are the victims of a system, the casualties of a basic industry bereft of social control. But effective regulation is sure to come. There will be controls for coal, and for oil wells, and sulphur domes, iron mines, and perhaps for Tulsa's ice plants. The world is marching toward just such controls for the common interest. But before this day can come, there must be great change in our thinking. Today, consult your lawyer and he will tell you that, if you own a certain tract of land, and there is coal on it, nobody can stop you from mining it; even though it cost you $20.00 a ton to bring the coal to the tipple, you have a "constitutional right" to do so. This law comes from our frontier days, when every man was his own master, and when dog eat dog and devil take the hindmost was the basic law of life. It won't work in tomorrow's world. The mere instance of coal opens up a dozen different fields of inquiry into economic and social integration. Economic reorganization of this industry is a crying need, the social implications of the problem are tremendous. The bringing of order out of chaos in our great natural resource industries probably constitutes one of our greatest long-run problems. Here is something that our universities must envisage as a whole. You see what I mean. The universities must teach the coming generation not only mechanical technique but also long-run economic questions, and the social values that must be maintained. They must make it plain to those who are succeeding us that phrases have no more essential virtue in economics than in philosophy. They must aid in dispelling the many foggy thoughts about competition, and the law of supply and demand, and the iron law of wages, and sound money, and all such slogans born of conditions, -Nr traditions, of an age that is no more. They ntiust help us to look realistically upon the world about us, and to relate ourselves constructively to the pattern of our times. The nation's universities must enable us to understand the importance of many great new questions. Soon students will be asking: What is the functional significance of this state I live in? What is its basic importance in the economic life of the nation? These are questions few of us can answer, and yet they are certain to be asked. Perhaps our university might well seek to discover the relation of its state to the region, the nation, even, perhaps, the world. By arousing in a realistic fashion the intellectual curiosity of its students, by focusing instrumentally the research efforts of its staff, the university can relate itself far more constructively to the social and economic pattern in which we live. Let us take the great elements of economic sustenance, study each of them, not as an isolated integer, self sufficient and self contained, but as a moving particle of life's electron. We are, I think, moving from a geographical to a functional world. We are, I think, moving from an individualistic to a cooperative society. We arc on the way from an economics of want to an economics of plenty. We are on the way from ruthless individual exploitation to mutual service. As these processes develop, we still need an extraordinary amount of new knowledge and new experience in the techniques of efficient coordination. Of course we are not moving in a straight line in this direction-man never goes directly if he can go by a winding path. But as we undertake our daily tasks, we must keep in the back of our minds the clear implications of tomorrow. There may be aspects of the tragic in the situation; Wells may be right in his prediction that a race is on between civilization and catastrophe. But on the other hand, there are great elements of challenge. What a time in which to live; was man's universe ever in such a ferment? Never was there so much need for forward planning, long-run judgment, social thinking, education that really educates. Never has it been so important that education supply the key to unlock the magic door. Never has it been so essential that we turn our faces toward the light. October, 1933 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 13 SIX OF HIS The boy who said his father had not known there was a depression until his six sons who had gone away to work came back home to live, touched a vast problem which Dr. Arthur E. Morgan, Chairman of the Tennessee Valley Authority, made vivid in his recent radio address about conditions there and his experimental plans for bettering them. He said: During prosperous times hundreds of thousands of young men from this region went to industrial northern cities to work. Unaccustomed to urban life, they lacked economic judgment, and were easily persuaded by high pressure salesmen to make unwarranted purchases by installment payments. When the depression of 1929 came, they, remained in the cities, hoping for re-employment until savings were exhausted and all personal property lost. In many cases, it was necessary for parents or relatives to use the meager savings from the poverty-stricken mountain farms, to meet the expense of the return of these young families from the cities. Hundreds of thousands of them are now living in enforced idleness in the hills, and the poor hillside farms of the Appalachian region are carrying much of the unemployment burden of the rich industrial cities. Of course, this is by no means the whole story of the numbers of unemployed young people, who, along with older ones, are massed back in the hills, as in other rural areas today. Large numbers of men who have stayed in the mountains but who have left their homes to go to mining camps and towns and to lumber camps are now unemployed; but because they have sold their farms to industrial corporations, many of these, with their families, are living in abandoned camp shacks, on the mercy of operators. They face the fact, too, that boom times have produced far more miners than can ever hope to have adequate support from mining occupations again, even under the new NRA code. Add to this large group those now back at home because interrupted in their vocational, collegiate, or professional education, or because, having completed it, they have not been able to get jobs. In my judgment, there is a hopeful answer to the question as to what, if anything, can be done to meet the needs of these bewildered young people, so far as leadership can be found for utilizing actually existing resources. This judgment is based on continuous study of the question during SONS CAME HOME O. Latham Hatcher the past year and a half, study which has shown that there are undoubtedly many such resources for helping mountain young people, as well as others, across this perplexing period. The real problem is to select, stimulate, and prepare the best leaders for putting both actual and potential resources to work-in general planning, community organization, and actual development of programs. I for one do not fear serious lack of leadership in efforts to develop community programs for the growth of unemployed young people, if the general effort is well energized from above by the more experienced leaders in the mountain area. It is precisely the large number of trained and partly-trained unemployed, back at home now, especially the trained young people, who can and must be the determining factor in making the needed programs possible. Prom their own contributions to such programs they can get much that they themselves need urgently now. Moreover, in well-planned programs they can get at one point while giving at another. Certainly there were never before so many educated, trained, and half-trained mountain young people back at home, and if interesting program possibilities are presented to them for using their abilities and for giving and getting too,I believe that they will respond. They area part of the far more vast army of unemployed and unadjusted rural and urban young people scattered over the United States, representing, in their large unit of it, the whole occupational and educational gamut, from unskilled labor to professional worker. For the most part they seem to themselves shut in to idleness; the outlook for the future, so far as they can see, offers them little or no ground for hope, which for many of them means return to the city. Most of them are, of course, without the alleviations of cultural satisfactions, without recognizable opportunities for recreation and for growth, since they lack almost entirely the safeguards and interests of programs established for the city unemployed. Granted that most of them are not to expect Page 14 MOUNTAIN L1l'1: AND WORK October, 1933 paying jobs, even on a part time basis, for some time to come, what are the immediate needs? Are they not these? Opportunity for growth through study, group discussions, and other constructive activities. Guidance of as individual a sort as is safe and practicable, in relation to the present situation as affecting them individually. In any case, group g'dance and individual assurance that their prob ut 1 1 lems matter higher up and are of social concern. Recreation, through as varied community recreational programs, even in average mountain communities, as are possible and with as much adjustment as possible to individual needs. Service through interesting activities to benefit the community as well as the individual. A good many of the things done elsewhere will be impossible, of course, in the more isolated places, certainly in degree, if not altogether. But when I find myself tending to generalization as to possibilities or impossibilities in mountain areas, I think of the great variety of mountain school communities, roads, and people that I know. One should not be gloomy as to the resources of mountain towns or areas. Some surprises may be in store, and only a survey will show the assets. In a rural town or area containing about 600 adults, it was proposed by some one that they organize study groups or classes on the basis of common interests, and that they draw upon their own people for the leaders as well as for the followers. A pessimist objected that nobody there could conduct such courses, and that in any case nobody would want to take them. The optimist decided to explore. It was found that 160 of the 600 were interested to enroll for such study, and that instructors for all of the courses sought were available in the community. The 160 under their respective instructors went to work happily! This was not, as I recall, a mountain area, but the incident may have suggestive value everywhere. The development of emergency educational programs around the idea of using the trained unemployed for instructing the untrained was first tried out on any large scale last year by the New York State Board of Education under the leadership of Dr. Lewis A. Wilson. The experiment began in New York City and since then has been extended not only to other selected cities but to small towns serving rural areas. The beginnings of it in definitely rural areas are later, but are also under way, having been made duri»g the summer along the lines of organized recreation, with other developments to follow in due time. The marked success of the plan has undoubtedly influenced the government's very recent adoption of its main feature in a national program of educational relief to be described later. Obviously such emergency programs adapted to the moods and to the almost infinite variety of needs of unemployed young people, must combine flexibility, variety, and a sufficiently unacademic approach with substantial instructional values, concerning themselves far more with adjustment to individual needs and interests, whether vocational, avocational, cultural, or foundational education, than with rule of thumb. Much that we rightly honor in academic requirements and techniques will perhaps be more honored now in the breach than in the observance. Dr. Wilson's way of conducting the new emergency schools takes all of this into full account and has in its flexibility many points in common with Berea's opportunity schools, which have grown directly out of mountain needs and were at work long before the unemployment condition was present. The latter are suggestive at many points, both because of their adaptability to unemployed people and because many people needing help have not the city experience and point of view. The two plans dovetail and supplement each other very helpfully. A very stirring program has been in progress for more than a year under the name of Youth Emergency Activities. As a result its sixteen county centers or villages, varying in size, can claim that although most of their young people are still unemployed, comparatively few are unoccupied. Wits and interests have been set to work in an amazing variety of ways to work out and cooperate in programs of wholesome entertainment, avocational pursuits, and academic and vocational study. Boys in one village have enrolled enthusiastically in boxing classes taught by an amateur volunteer, and are following strict training regimes as to diets, exercise, and regular hours. In the same town, classes have been or October, 1933 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 15 ganized in weaving, wood work, and drawing from life. A boys' project is under way in another place for establishing a wood work "firm." A small stock of lumber has been secured, and the boys interested are studying advertising and selling under volunteer instruction. An empty store in one small place has been opened up for use as a boys' clubroom. The club members have made the chairs, ping-pong tables, and other equipment. They have been receiving volunteer instruction in chair caning. In another village, a five-day-week set-up of classes and recreational events for 1,000 boys and girls has been organized to meet the interests listed by these unoccupied young people. This county program is crammed with interesting possibilities depending little or not at all on money, and the g--neral procedure in developing the program has been of the wisest. A fuller account of any of these activities is available upon request. The extent to which unemployed young people in average mountain communities should be en couraged to look to university extension cor respondence courses will vary greatly according to the state. Manifestly too, a certain amount of mental discipline, lacking to many needing in struction now, is needed for utilizing such courses, although a good many public schools have found it possible to have such courses successfully ad ministered locally. This is one way in which un employed teachers might help. All of the southern state universities have a variety of interesting pos sibilities. The University of Wisconsin is Out standing in its pro- vision of cultural and avoca tional and many other types of courses useful to unemployed young people, also in its recreational aids and suggestions. Iowa State University, the University of Kansas, and several others are close behind Wisconsin in their offerings. The explanatory literature of the extension departments of these universities is very suggestive to seasoned leaders, though no instruction is to be made available from these institutions to the students needing help. Mountain colleges, four-year and junior, teacher-training and academic, and most of the mountain mission schools as well, have large opportunity to be of service to the many unemployed young people now idle in their parents' homes. This is true, in spite of the heavy financial handi caps under which all of these types of schools are suffering now. Doubtless many are already giving some help of this sort. The question is whether, by especially preparing their undergraduates as Berea and probably various others are doing, to take special community responsibility back in their homes,* and by stimulating and preparing alumni in the same way, all can help and some do more to help in initiating needed community programs. As already suggested, returned students and alumni might help themselves by helping their communities in this way. Perhaps more of the advanced students might help, too, in setting up such emergency programs in communities near the college, and in watching them, at least through the more precarious early stages. Many colleges are extending to suitable high school graduates, and others near at hand who might profit by it, the privilege of listening in, without charge, in certain courses. This permission requires careful restriction, of course, but is a point for consideration by any mountain colleges which have not already acted upon it. A more usual emergency service from colleges now is the special encouragement of such young people to participate in feasible ways in the recre aI ife, to use the library, t onal phases of the college 11 1 and so on. The Y. M. C. A., the Y. W. C. A., the Boy Scouts, the National Federation of Business and Professional Women's Clubs, Rotary, Kiwanis, and the National Congress of Parents and Teachers consider it appropriate, even now, for their local or neighboring units to be asked to provide or secure scholarships, loans, or self-help work for help-worthy young people to continue in rural schools, to study in city schools, or to attend college or training schools. Five of themthe Y. W. C. A., the Boy Scouts, the Business and Professional Women's Clubs, Rotary, and Kiwanis -will provide vocational speakers to explain business conditions to rural groups. The same six are glad to have their local groups asked to provide young people with transportation for trips to explore occupations in their area, or to visit educational institutions. The Y. W. C. A. is doing invaluable service with unemployed girls and young women in small towns and rural areas, especially in the way of fostering morale Dingman, Helen H. Our Common Tr.4. MouNrnIN TAPE AND WORK, July, 1933, p. 4. Page 16 MOUNTAIN UFI: AND WORK October, 1933 and growth through suggestions for recreational and avocational activities. Any group planning a program for a mountain community would do well to consult the program bulletins available.=~~ Also the Children's Bureau in Washington can help with material through its recreational specialist, Miss Ella Gardner. It is with realization of the variety of background in the mountain ministry that the suggestion is made that, in one way or another, the churches can help in this problem, if the minister will share the task of leadership, and help to relate the program in some effective way to his organization, if only by using the church as a center of activities. Some churches have inaugurated or increased existing educational programs to include week-night as well as Sunday lectures and discussion groups. A wide range of subjects is offered, including courses on economics, public speaking, psychology, draftsmanship, English literature, scientific gardening, and poultry raising. Volunteer teachers can usually be secured. The Old Stone Church of Meadville, Pennsylvania, holds a "Community College" with various courses and an open forum on Wednesday nights, preceded by a supper and prayer meeting."' Grouped by types of need rather than by sources of aid, various forms of aid should be mentioned. The Community Music Service of the National Recreation Association will answer inquiries about the organization of community programs-music memory contests, bands, orchestras, and other musical features. This type of aid utilized so far as needed in mountain areas, where the musical instinct and ballad tradition are already strong, m- ht eventuate now, when so many unemployed ig young people who have some musical training are back in their communities, in interesting musical developments. To the friendly service available through the National Recreation Association -"- may be added many other possibilities including those from state, city, and county music r The Woman's Press, 600 Lexington Avenue, New York City ' Growing in the Erurrgeut), An Informal Magazine issued by the Southern Woman's Educational Alliance. September (,, 1933. p. 7. In a folder available for the asking, entitled "At Your Service," the National Recreation Association 315 Fourth Avenue New York City, explains how it stands ready to give through its consultation bureau information on leisure tune activities in rural as well as urban communities. It makes practical recommendations as to the training of recreation workers, social games and programs, home play, and so on. In the same way, it will help also in the development of both musical and dramatic activities. clubs, and similar associations of music teachers, all of which groups are interested to cooperate in the community. The National and State Federations of Music Clubs interest themselves in state choral festivals in which mountain community groups might participate. There are many scattered resources for helping a community group get an attractive dramatic program under way. Again the National Recreation Association is one of the most valuable. The nearest young people's leader in 4-H club work, too, would probably help, as would the state university extension division. For example, the University of Kansas provides suggestions for the amateur producer, lends plays for short periods, gives information about costuming and make-up, provides reading lists and has in its large loan library masques, pageants, pantomines, stunt material, religious and patriotic plays. The University of Virginia does much the same. "The Y. W. C. A. Program Book for Young Women in Smaller Communities" suggests a variety of entertainments having attractive dramatic quality. So much has been done through Mr. Allen Eaton of the Russell Sage Foundation and others helping to stimulate and organize more interest in mountain areas in handicrafts and in other arts, that one can do no better here than to refer to the Southern Highland Handicraft Guild for suggestions as to how and what of art to incorporate in such programs as are under discussion here. The American Federation of Arts cooperates with rural and urban communities in various forms of art service, and should be mentioned as an available and very friendly consultant in this connection. Junior Achievement, Inc., in Springfield, Massachusetts, can be very valuable too in suggestions for young groups, along handicraft lines; and some university extension divisions lend very desirable collections of pictures for the cost of transportation. Library resources are much greater even for the more isolated communities than many of them guess. This is one reason why an unemployed young person there, who has in her teacher-train Published by The Woman's Press for 50 cents, it takes up such activities as dramatics, girls' orchestras, bands, festivals, a community chorus, development of an arts and crafts work shop, musical games and folk dances, and ,o on. October, 1933 MOUNTAIN LIFT AND WORK Page 17 Ing or other college experiences learned to take library resources for granted, can be of great aid in reaching out for such helps. Practically every state university and many others have lending libraries. Some maintain book trucks, and furnish packet libraries, study outlines, lantern slides, and motion picture films. If your state university is not now offering just the sort of aid needed by the community which you are helping, the American Library Association, 520 North Michigan Avenue, Chicago, or its southern representative, Miss Tommie Dora Barker, (clo Atlanta Public Library) will be glad to give many interesting suggestions. Educational radio offerings over national or smaller networks admit of many constructive group uses in communities where good service can be had at even one center for listening in, and these facilities are not yet utilized in any adequate way. Careful study of national offerings of this sort will mean time well spent by those planning rural programs of the sort suggested here. There is one valuable educational resource so recently developed as to need more time for getting itself under way and understood. It has been initiated by the Federal Emergency Relief Administration and is articulated with similar state, city, and county relief administration centers, so far as the latter exist. It is to release to the states-and they in turn to counties applying -federal funds for use in rural areas in several types of special educational service. As already indicated, it is set up largely on the principle of using the trained unemployed to instruct the untrained unemployed. It is important to realize, however, that such occupation is open only to properly qualified people who are either already on the emergency relief lists for financial help, or are found after investigation to be eligible for such relief. Such provisions are already working out in various cities where the city has already been experimenting in advance of national aid: the highest types of professional service as well as trade and business instruction are being provided by unemployed people on this basis. Those who may profit by the new opportunity may be placed in three groups: (1) Unemployed adults who are in need of educational facilities or adjustment to make them more employable, many of whom are and will continue to be unemployable without this training. (2) Unemployed adults who are physically handicapped and need, through educational rehabilitation service, additional training for work opportunities. (3) Unemployed adults who are in need of further general education to fit them to take their part as self-supporting, self-respecting citizens. In this connection the following explanation is added: Under this program, a large group of professionally and technically trained persons not served by the usual forms of work relief will, in return for needed relief allowances, teach emergency work-relief classes of unemployed persons who need training to prepare them for jobs that will become available as industry revives. An ERA release explains in some detail conditions under which unemployed rural teachers may be re-employed for teaching: Relief funds may be paid as wages to needy unemployed teachers, or other persons competent to teach, who may be assigned to class rooms up through the eighth grade, provided: (a) that relief officers assign them to educational authorities who will supervise them carefully; (b) that they be assigned only to schools ordered closed for this year; (c) that this applies only to rural areas. The fund may be also applied to securing needy unemployed competent persons to teach adults unable to read and write English. This applies to rural counties and to cities. Appeal for community participation in these benefits is through county and state relief administrations to the state and county educational authorities. Inasmuch as counties must share in the expense of providing agricultural extension workers, many mountain counties do not have the advantage of these workers; but where they are at work any muster of agencies contributing now to the morals and general welfare of unemployed rural young people would place them near the top in point of value. With their close understanding of rural young people and of their problems these extension workers have pushed their service forward now to reach many of the unemployed young people who are in need of the practical and social activities which these workers can bring about for them. Scores and even hundreds of such activities going on here and there Page 18 MOUNTAIN LiFL AND WORK October, 1933 over the United States owe their inspiration and beginnings, as well as the friendly supervision which guarantees their success, to such workers. The Tennessee Valley Authority offers a new hope for mountain living. In the words of its chairman, Dr. Arthur E. Morgan, The main purpose is to make the business and social life of the farms and the small towns permanently prosperous, to get the help of the young people in training competent folk to carry on the small industries, and to add to the capacities of the old and young to enjoy their lives where they were born. The Authority properly stresses its obligation to develop a long-time program for the betterment of living conditions in mountain areas, and insists on taking time to develop its experimental program. It insists too upon the basic difference between its function and that of the Emergency Relief Administration, although its plans for the immediate future include appreciable aids in the unemployment situation, besides giving prospect for increasingly significant developments later in that direction. The work on the Norris Dam-only one of those to be built-is expected to take about four years beginning January 1. So far as possible the tasks will be given to local workmen. Twice as many workmen will be used as would be needed for full time work so that each group may spend half of each week in the training school which is a part of the project. In that school the young men -and employees are to be young enough to still be interested in learning-will study supplementary trades and industries which make for the con veniences of living, but are lacking now in most mountain areas. When the workers return to their homes after the dam is completed, they will take with them occupational skills which will supplement their incomes for farming, besides making new and higher grades of service available at home and so helping to lift the community to higher levels of living. The smaller factory industries and others will be explored for wise possibilities of multiplying them in that area, and for combination with farming; everything practicable that seems likely to make for a better economy and a richer life for the mountain farmer will be considered for experimentation. Fertilizers needed by the mountain farmers of the area will also be produced in large quantity and sold to them at rates within their reach. An illustration of the TVA's projected service is the recent announcement of the fact that it will supply electricity to farm people over its wide area for all the manifold processes to which it can be applied by them-at a total cost of less than seven cents a kilowatt hour-and that it plans to develop power lines for such provision where they either do not already exist or where unduly high prices prohibit the use of them. As with the ERA educational provision, it is clear that no one can predict how far these rich hopes will be realized. But those who follow, as this writer does, the daily releases recounting its activities, gain inevitably a strong conviction of the knowledge and skill which are being applied to the task and of their already beginning to achieve very beneficent results. October, 1933 MOUNTAIN Lire AND WORK Page 19 PENLAND Chicago World's Fair talk was probably talked in every city, town and village of the United States months before the exposition was officially opened, but it is doubtful if there were many more earnest conversations held about it than were held at Penland, North Carolina-a little place so small that it is not even on the map-a place unheard of by most Chicagoans. But they know about it now, and so do many thousands of Fair visitors from various parts of the country, because through the assiduous efforts of one woman-Lucy Morgan-Penland went to the Fair. And thereby hangs a romantic tale. Lucy Morgan dreamed a dream, and in that dream she saw her band of faithful weavers happy all the day long at their looms; she saw herself and her assistants, after many difficult months of "no's" to anxious inquiries, once more able to Fay, "Yes, you may have another wirp today,"and she thought she saw overladen shelves of unsold goods emptied of their burl°n and ready to be refilled. She dreamed agun. And in her dream this time she saw the products from the hands of nearly sixty mountain women bringing joy and beauty into the lives of great numbers of people, and she could see that in their small but significant way her mountain folk were bringing before the American people and the people of other countries, a lasting impression of the heritage of the the hills as expressed through their folk arts and crafts. And looking far ahead, she saw something which at first appeared to be only a mirage, but gradually took on a more definite form, until at last she could distinguish among a vast city of imposing building-a tiny log cabin. Crude it was, even somewhat pathetic-looking amidst all the grandeur, but it seemed to take on something of the same importance as the widow's mite, and strangely enough, it was accomplishing, in addition to all the other things she had dreamed about, much the same purpose that she had worked so hard and so fruitlessly for among state officialsit was giving North Carolina a representation at the Chicago World's Fair! Pleasant, far-reaching, and keen-sighted as these GOES T 0 THE FAIR Bonnie Willis Ford dreams were, it was not greatly to the credit of Luc), Morgan merely to have dreamed them. But it is vastly to her credit that she was able to make her dreams come true. To dream, according to Webster, is to indulge in imagination, to fancy or hope, but to realize a dream requires courage, perseverance, and moral stamina of the highest type. For one possessed with a dream, perhaps the first step toward its fulfillment is to sell the idea to other people. That was not easy for Miss Morgan to do. Time after time, she was told by business men and professional advisers that it was an unwise undertaking. Friends, anxious (Courlr"1 of Mo. B11"1r"l T'oo11rn) TWO WHO DREANIFI) ON I'LNLANU AT '1111: LAIR-_ MISS I.UC'Y MORGAN AND MR. P.1)WARII P. WORST. Page 20 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK October, 1933 because of the strain it was imposing on her physical strength, urged her to give it up, but her courage remained undaunted. It was from the homefolks at Spruce Pine and Penland and Bakersville and from Mr. Worst and other friends in Chicago that her greatest support came. Meetings, presided over by one of the leading business men of Spruce Pine, were held in the rustic livingroom at Morgan Hall to talk over plans of raising money for the initial investment. Merchants, farmers, school officials, bank employees, miners, and mining officials were at these meetings, and unanimous support was pledged. Spruce Pine is a town of only fifteen hundred people, Bakersville is smaller, and Penland boasts only a post office, a railroad station, and one store and a half, but from this sparselysettled area, contributions to the amount of five hundred dollars were pledged. The greater part of this amount represented pledges of one dollar each. Every possible means of raising additional money was employed by church and civic organizations of Spruce Pine and Bakersville. Benefit bridges were given, plays presented, and Professor Frederick H. Koch, Director of the Carolina P1aylnakers, came all the way from Chapel Hill to give a benefit performance of "A Midsummer Night's Dream." Heartened by this loyal expression of faith from homefolk and friends, Miss Morgan redoubled her efforts, and early in January, she left for Chicago to make arrangements with Fair officials for an exhibition. It was there that she almost Irlet her Waterloo. Correspondence over a long period of time with members of the Social Science division of A Century of Progress had led her to believe that she would be allowed to "A1fONG A VAST CITY OF BUILDINGS-A TINY LOG CABIN" October, 1933 MOUNTAIN LIFT, exhibit in the hall of Social Science, but she found upon her arrival in Chicago that her request should go to the Department of Concessions. For six weeks she worked, in cooperation with Mr. Worst, with the Department of Concessions, explaining her purpose, studying rules and regulations, going through miles of red tape, until finally she was granted a small space of precious earth, covered with stories and devoid of any vegetation. Happily, however, it was in a good location and the rocks became stepping-stones to greater achievement. By the fifteenth of March, the contract was signed and plans were rapidly going forward for the building. Five hundred dollars was not much money with which to build an adequate display cabin, but in the summer of 1932 a small log cabin had been built on a truck and used as a traveling gift shop. This unique motorized cabin, called "The Travelog," was taken intact from its native Carolina hills to form one section of the exhibition building in Chicago. Another section was built at Penland and taken to the Fair grounds to be assembled. Mr. Howard C. Ford was granted a leave of absence from Oklahoma Agricultural and Mechanical College to assist with the erection of the cabin, and other workmen went from Penland in the "Travelog" party. After two weeks of moving stones and smoothing the ground, the two tiny cabins were put together; the result way an ell-shaped log structure, holding its own among the skyscrapers and freaks of modern architecture. Mrs. Elizabeth Hensley and Miss Mabel Fauble, old-time friends, were put in charge of the exlh;bition. These two women have done a really remarkable piece of work in selling, advertising, AND WORK and publicity. Aided by volunteer workers from every Episcopal Church in the Diocese of Chi cago, they have worked through long hours a, the days and nights toward one ideal, the suc:ess of the undertaking. Spinners and weavers, brought to the cabin by Mr. Worst, have demonstrated these beautiful old arts before the eyes of many visitors. In special celebration of Carolina Cabin Week, Miss Morgan took Doc Hoppas, our own "musicianer" and story-teller to delight in his own inimitable way for a week Carolina Cabin visitors with his banjo-picking and balladsinging. Even as this account is being prepared, Doc writes back to say, "I guess I shook hands with a hundred thousand people yesterday." And so on this fourteenth day of September, with the closing of the Fair still a month and a half away, Lucy Morgan's dream has come t:ue. Her faithful weavers have been happy at their looms all during the summer; every day they arc being told that they n,ay have more warps. The over-laden shelves have been emptied and refilled and emptied again. Countless numbers of people have seen exhibited there at a Century of Progress Exposition the finest expression of American folk life in the priceless "heritage of the hills." North Carolina, too, has been represented at the Fair! It was a beautiful dream, bravely executed. Yet so modest and unassuming is Lucy Morgan that if she were to see this story before it goes to press, she would strongly censure it, and it would have to be written over in a cold-blooded, impersonal manner. But I am sure that my readers will forgive the impulse. of one who has long been associated with her to pay this small tribute to her courage and devotion. Page 22 MOUNTAIN LJFF AND WORK October, 19: THE COMING OF THE Ruth Louise Parker Six quiet counties in the Cumberland Mountains of eastern Tennessee bask in the autumn sunshine. Rounded hills topped with a fringe of trees, broad, beneficent " alleys, bowl-like hollows, gullies, ridges, springs and streams,-all possessed by a people who, for the most part, aside from those who live in the coal camps, have inherited the lands from their forefathers, the pioneers. The older generation is conservative and contented; the younger, restless and likely to be lured away into distant city life. Seen from an airplane, it is a land dotted with farm houses, churches, and schools on a patch-work of fields, orchards and woodlands, with an occasional trimming of the emerald grcen of tobacco. In their sky has appeared a sign for these counties. A sign, yes, and more than a sign. A crisis! The Government, a far-off, mighty power, hitherto known only, or chiefly, through a friendly congressman who existed to serve the interests of these folk, or through the arm of the federal law threatening bootleggers,-this abstract Uncle Sam by an edict dooms this whole countryside to such a flood as is comparable only to those phenomena known in legal phrase as "acts of God." But what flood ever was presaged by ten year's warning, heralded by an army of experts, charted, regulated, controlled, disciplined within predetermined bounds? What flood ever possessed itself permanently of fifty-four thousand acres of land? A Man stood up in Panama And the mountains moved aside A Mighty Power, the Tenncssec Valley Authority, speaks as with a voice of thunder to the farflung people of these counties and they stand dumb. What are they all thinking and feeling to-day? There arc numerous and varied groups: -the small localities which know they will be completely submerged, obliterated; others which expect completely to escape the water, but hope to live to see a gigantic lakc approach their borders; and there are communities which will be half drowned and half saved. There are score. of churches with their bit of "God's acre" wher:°- are buried alive so much human grief and sentiment; MIA TERS there are school houses, banks, post-offices, stations, hotels, chambers of commerce, clubs, organizations, neighborhoods, all of which fac,: di.solution or else radical, incalculable changes to be caused by the "sundering flood"; and the great question is, what is their group psychology? In the first place Rumor flies over the land. What is prophesied today is tomorrow contradicted. "Who is speaking? "What's the news?" "I heard . . . ." "No, that's not true. I heard. . . " "Well, I don't believe any of it. It's a great bluff." "We are having a New Deal. It looks like the coming of a new civilization, better than anything that has gone before." "No, politics will enter in, and we shall come out the little end of the horn." "They say we are going to be industrialized, and that means no good." "Old man Longman says he won't leave his land; says his spring gives the best water in all the country, says his grandfather and his great-grandfather are all buried in the little graveyard on the hill back of the house; says that later if this thing goes through, his neighbors, the Campbells, who are separated from them by a little stream crossed by a swinging bridge, will be divided by a great bay." Model cities, resorts, industrial centers,-there are those who wish none of these things: there are others who cannot wait for their coming. Highways, railways, mountain roads, mail routes, all to be re-routed, some to be forever lost. And day by day gossip, hearsay, wish-thinking and fearful hopes are heard and repeated and refuted and argued. This "great, far-off event" has grown nearer since the surveyors and engineers have come in, established headquarters labelled with the significint initials, TVA, and settled themselves in many, very many, town or country homes as lodgers or boarders. Indeed, the coming of all this new blood has already changed the color of the landscape for many a Tennessee maid. In one section alone, six of the members of this vanguard of the invasion have taken to themselves wives. Very informal marriages these have been, none of them rising to the dignity of home or church wed October, 1933 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 23 dings. Already one or two of the young husbands have lost their jobs, or have been removed. Everywhere these newcomers make their presence felt, if only in the crowding of their cars into the parking places. They bring money, they bring new ways, new ideas, new talk, although they show a professional reserve in their unwillingness to say much about the great work ahead. We onlookers and bystanders realize that we are living in a time and in a place filled with portent. We drive to the dam site with one who knows and who points to a hill top saying, "This will be an island, "This will be an arm of the great lake," a lake, the shore line of which we learn will extend eight hundred miles, as far as from here to New York City! The imaginative among us murmur, "A paradise for fishermen;" the cynical mutter, "A breeding place for mosquitoes." Yes, even as the waters will cover the land, drowning the hills and creeping into coves and hollows, caves, and crannies, so already has the expected inundation flowed over the minds of all of us in this section; and it, too, has crept into some strange mental crannies. There is a little group of religionists who see in the eagle symbol of the NRA, not the Indian "Thunder Bird" of ancient American tradition, but a more ominous and terrifying symbol. They say it is the Beast of the Book of Revelation, which contains so many obscure references to a flood and which recounts also the existence of a lake, albeit, "a lake of fire burning with brimstone." And are there not in the new symbol the number of points on the tips of the feathers that correspond to the mystic numbers given in the Apocalypse? The omen is then complete and it means-unutterable things. Perhaps I cannot do better at this early stage of the coming of the Great Project than to quote with conscientious exactness comments and statements of the people themselves. Thus will be presented, I think, a pretty fair crosssection of popular thinking, which is all aimed at in this sketch. An old inhabitant, a born leader and a man of culture remarked thoughtfully, "This project appeals to the ambition of men for their children and grandchildren. Their hereditary loyalty to their homes is less than their hopes and dreams for the coming generation." An educator: "The people expect too much too soon. The experiment is too big to be grasped. The industrialization of the life in the valley is what is most feared." A banker: "We're uncertain." A miner: "We don't know. We hope for employment." A rural store-keeper: "About forty of our people on land to be condemned don't want to move. One old man says he WON'T move." A real estate man: "Every one is mighty keen to sell. Things are moving." Principal of high school: "The children are taking their work more seriously. The want to be prepared when they go out into this new world." A coal operator: "I believe that our business will pick up right along with the building of the dam. If work would get started, I'm sure we would be able to employ many more men this winter. I do not see that the power, even if it is so cheap, will hurt the coal business." Farmers: No. 1. "I'm afraid the dam won't help us much. It takes a lot of our best land and it will make our taxes go higher to take care of the taxes that w't be paid when the water covers the land." on I No. 2. "Sure I'm for the dam. But I wish they'd hurry and start something. We could help a lot if they'd tell us what they're going to do." No. 3. "There seems to be nothing definite about what they're going to do. I wish they'd hurry and tell us something." County officials: No. 1. "We must give the Authority time to do a little investigating. I think if we will be patient a little while everything will be all right." No. 2. "It looks like we'll get the dam some of these days. I suppose it will be fine when it comes." Engineers: No. 1. "This is the biggest piece of work ever started. It will go along fine some of these days and people will be proud to have lived here." No. 2. "I'm certainly going to be proud to have had a little part in building this thing. It is a pretty piece of work." Page 24 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK October, 1933 Man on the street: No. 1. "I've been out of work so long that I don't much care what they do about it. I reckon it won't do me any good." No. 2. "If they're going to build it, I wish they'd hurry and start. Us people who have nothing to do could cut bushes this winter as well as those C. C. boys." Business men: No. 1. "We can only wait and see what will happen to us here in LaFollette. I know it will come eventually and help us if we can just hold on awhile." No. 2. "1 feel like it has helped us quite a bit already. The engineers are here and they're spending money, and we are getting some benefit other ways. I think we'd better just wait and see." Perhaps the most vivid and sensitive analysis of the psychology of our situation was made by a county official, who said: "The people of the hills have for twelve years been thinking of the coming of the dam. Many thought it would never come. Now that it has come, they are panicky. It means a new relation with the government which up to now they have thought of a strong arm more or less entangled with red tape. They have an idea that when it comes to doing business, the government will shows itself inefficient. They think that the government will be fair in its dealing in buying the land, for example, but they have misgivings as to what its idea of fairness will be. "The home instinct in these rural sections is tremendous. People who have gotten out into the world do not realize how those who have always stayed at home feel about it. This is especially true of the older men. It is not only the house that they cling to, but the spring-the sweetest water in the world, and the near-by church, with all its sacred associations, the memory of conversions, of burials. They feel that for them there is to be found no second place of wor ship where they can feel at home. Such uprooting is a staggering thing to the farmer. All sense of security, all his relationships, all his possessions are in jeopardy. His fear centers in the uncertainty as to whether he will be able to take the money which the Government will give him for his land and ever again be able to settle himself as comfortably. There are five or six hundred farmers who will have to sell out. The much larger group of farmers who will be affected by the dam, but who will not have to move have a vastly different attitude, of course. They welcome the great change, which will mean a market and an opportunity for their young people, their daughters in factories and offices and their sons in construction work. Visions of prosperity stir their imagination and arouse their hopes." So runs the tale. To many this survey of opinion may seem very superficial as it does to the writer. Yet at this stage perhaps even the superficiality is significant. The THING that is coming is so gigantic in its social implications, as well as in material magnitude, that one can do scarcely more than fumble and question and dream. Are industrial efficiency and rural idealism, like the lion and the lamb, to lie down together? Is it possible so to foresee the incalculable human elements that a new social order can be planned in advance? To me the most poignant and most haunting question is, Can a ready-made system, however ideal per se, be successfully imposed upon any people, and especially upon these folk whose strong individualism is so marked a characteristic? Can Master Minds direct into "self-knowledge, self-reverence, and self-control," self-discipline and expression, the human ebb and flow? These and other questions we may ask; the future alone can answer them. Let our courage and our faith rise to meet this the great challenge. As our own dreams and hopes mount irresistibly let us trust that the verdict of history will be that the dam was made for man, and not man for the dam. October, 1933 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 25 Dependent Children in the Southern Mountains H. W. Hopkirk A study of the provision made for the care of dependent and neglected children in the mountains shows that most of them get along with little or none of the benefits of modern social service. However, all types of service are to some extent utilized in their behalf. In some of the mountain counties of North Carolina and Virginia there have been public welfare units which have utilized some of the best methods of family welfare and child welfare service. This has been even more generally true in the few mountain counties of Alabama and Georgia. Prevention of family breakdown, sometimes through the use of mothers' allowances, has been a reality for a few, far too few, of the children needing such help. The provision of foster care in family homes, either free or at board, also has been slight in comparison with the need for it. Most dependent and neglected children in this region have been admitted to institutions, often called orphanages, or have been informally established in the overcrowded homes of relatives or friends. The most tangible of these services and that which needs the most improvement is institutional care. Radical changes may be expected in the programs of these institutions as they are touched by the policies and skill of modern social service. Although no two institutions are alike, certain common characteristics are sufficiently pronounced to warrant the classification of most or all of them as "mountain orphanages." Visits to eight such institutions within the last four years have provided the following impressions. Most of these institutions for children, like many of the older educational establishments in the mountains, are under religious auspices. Some are definitely a part of home mission enterprises, others are the creation of religious leaders in the mountains, who have come to consider an orphanage as a necessary and desirable part of the work which they and their associates are doing. The missionary nature of this work has brought much support from cities, some from distant northern centers of population and wealth. Churches and societies send many donations of clothing and food. Whether this support from a distance has been in the form of a check or a barrel of clothing, it has tended to free the management of many an institution from reliance upon support from a local constituency. In most cases this seems to have retarded the participation of mountain orphanages in county or state-wide planning of social service. Sometimes a fine building or some excellent equipment testifies to the generosity and interest of a wealthy patron or patroness. Modern plant and equipment, although still unusual, are more frequently found than the skilled service which is vital in work with dependent and neglected children. A kindliness seems to pervade the relations between staff and children, which must mean much to the children. Most overworked adults are cross and unpleasant on occasions, but in spite of this most workers in mountain orphanages seem inclined to treat the children very much as their own. There is probably less feeling of class difference in their relationships than among the workers and children in our more urban institutions. A study made several years ago for the Presbyterian Church in the United States showed that in the Synod of Appalachia (including portions of North Carolina, Tennessee, and Virginia) each Presbytery had one or more Presbyterian orphanages within its borders. None of these institutions was adequately staffed and all were operating without the safeguards of modern social service in regard to their admissions and discharges. The standards of health and nutrition service were low, and in most places the sanitary facilities were so poor as to constitute a public health hazard. There was indignation in the reactions of the representatives of most of these institutions when they came together to discuss the major recommendations of this study. They did not like the proposal that the number of institutions be reduced so that standards of service might be improved and the remaining institutions adequately Page 26 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK October, 1933 supported. The study pointed out the need for one or more well-trained social workers who could serve the families of all children for whom institutional care was requested, promoting family rehabilitation and providing the various services on admission and discharge for all the Presbyterian institutions within the synod. Several of the larger institutions serving the lowland areas of the same states had already demonstrated the value of such service. Without it many children inevitably are received for institutional care who should be kept with relatives or placed in foster homes. Unfortunately these church institutions in the mountains have been reluctant to cooperate and apparently unwilling to share the cost of this greatly needed service. Considering their isolation, possibly we should not expect them to pay for service which is not absolutely necessary to the operation of the institution itself. At any rate they seem to have confined their efforts to strengthening or enlarging the work within their institutions. There has been little local pressure to encourage their cooperation with county or state welfare officials, who might have helped them make their work more flexible. Such flexibility certainly is one of the ear marks of modern social service. To dispense only institutional care for dependent and neglected children is unfortunate for many of the children concerned and unreasonably expensive for the communities or groups which support the institutions. Institutional care of poor quality is expensive indeed. It costs the community almost as much as good institutional care and fails to provide what the children really need. In part it is the individualism of mountain folk which is holding back the development of adequate social service. Families and neighbors are expected to help out in extremities, but no one seems to be responsible for preventing the extremities. Added to the factor of individualism is the more or less demoralizing influence of outside missionary support. Were it not for contributions from distant cities, more than one institution doing poor work would have been driven into a merger with a stronger institution or into some close cooperation with other social agencies in the county or state capable of serving part of the children. There are definite similarities between these mountain orphanages and the boarding schools which are tucked away in remote corners of the Appalachians. In several places orphanages are conducted as departments of such schools and are located on the same premises. In the boarding schools there are many children on scholarships who are virtually dependent or neglected. In reviewing the child welfare problems of the Appalachian region, we find that these two types of institutions often perform identical functions. Both provide residence for the child away from home, both assume educational responsibilities, both generally assume a major share of the cost of caring for the children and educating them: both are largely supported by funds from other communities. Those children living in boarding schools are apt to need social case work in preparation for their admission and discharge quite as much as the children who live in orphanages. In a small institution in the Kentucky mountains an analysis of parental status of the children was surprising. Out of the 29 children in residence only one had both parents living. In our lowland orphanages it is common to find thirty or forty per cent of the children with both parents living. Equally unusual was the presence of seven full orphans, nearly twenty-five per cent of the institution's population. In other parts of the country the percentage of full orphans in institution populations usually is no more than five or ten per cent. Murders and deaths due to tuberculosis and other diseases which are seldom checked among the mountaineers account for most of the dead fathers and mothers of these children. The facts fit the picture of mountain life given by Malcolm Ross in "Machine Age in the Hills." Dependency and neglect among children always provide clues to the greatest social problems of the community. The social ills which bring children to the status of orphanage must be dealt with, or we who work with the children will be treating symptoms rather than causes. As v isiting nurses reduce the number of deaths of mothers, there will be fewer children brought into institutions and foster homes. Thus the children now receiving foster care are excellent e*dence of the need for community-wide and vi tax-supported services for the reduction of com October, 1933 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 27 municable diseases, industrial accidents, the free use of firearms, the unemployment which lies behind much malnutrition and disease, and such causes of divorce and separation as will respond to social treatment. Just as the improvement and extension of pub lic schools in the Southern Mountains are helping the people to realize that education is a necessity, not a luxury, so the development of local public welfare units, for the most part under governmental auspices, will reveal the basic economies which result from skillful social service. Likewise an institution operating under church or other private auspices can do much to promote community planning of social service. If staffed with skilled workers it can analyze its own experience and produce evidence of the need for public welfare service for families and children. By cooperation with other institutions and agencies it can help to reduce duplications of effort and to promote specializations in service which the community may need. Where public welfare service already exists within a county, the institution for children can do much to make it more effective. This has been demonstrated especially in the state of Alabama. But service to dependent children is a community burden which the community itself should bear to the limit of its ability. If the county and state pay most of the bill recognition by the public of the causes of dependency will gradually come. Suitable foster care for children costs the community so much as to justify all possible revaluation of existing work. Sectarian loyalties or interest in some particular social agency should receive only secondary consideration. For the sake of the children the greatest emphasis should be placed upon quality of service and community needs. SUMMER ACTIVITIES ANOTHER WEAVING INSTITUTE AT PENLAND From Vermont to California and from Wisconsin to South Carolina students came-more than forty of them, representing fifteen different states and the District of Columbia. Here they were on the morning of August 14, assembled on the none-too-accessible hill top in the mountains of western North Carolina, waiting for the instruction which Mr. Worst and his associates were to give them. Almost one-third of the number were occupational therapists, one was a home demonstration agent, many were teachers, one was a physician, one a psychologist, another was a registered nurse -all were engaged in useful and important work. All of them had come with the H'ea that they could gain from this experience material with which better to equip themselves for the day's work, and according to their own testimony not one of them went away disappointed. As in former years, the course in hand weaving was designed for experienced weavers, and primary thought was given to instruction in advanced types of weaving, but careful attention was at the same time given to the needs of each student. When it was decided to extend the course over a period of two weeks, it was Mr. Worst's desire that instruction in a variety of allied crafts be given. Consequently the students of this year were given the opportunity of supplementing their knowledge of weaving with lessons in the spinning of both wool and flax, in book-binding and partfolio-making, in dyeing, basketry, leather-tooling, jewelry makin„ block-printing, and pottery. Mr. Lewis Worst conducted the classes in basketry, and Mr. Howard C. Ford gave the instruction in block-printing, jewelry-making, and pot tery. A continuation of the course in leather-tooling, begun in the summer of 1932, was given by Miss Kathleen Campbell and Miss Naida Ackley, occupational therapists from the Davis Clinic of Marion, Virginia. Mr. Worst was ably assisted in the teaching of spinning by "old time" spinners of the Penland community, and the "blue-pot" was presided over by one of the local women, while various other types of dyeing were taught by Miss Clementine Douglas of The Spinning Wheel, Asheville, and by Miss Jane Chase of the John C. Campbell Folk School at Brasstown. Miss Lucy C. Morgan, sponsor of the Institute and director of The Penland Weavers and Potters, has always taken care in the preliminary plans to provide such social diversion as will not interfere with any of the work which Mr. Worst might wish to do. Because this year the Institute was extended over a longer period of time, there was more opportunity for recreation than ever before. One feature of the Institute has always been a trip to Hoot Owl Holler to visit Doe Hoppas, the local "musicianer" and story-teller, and many of this year's number thrilled at the chance of a rough automobile ride up Brushy Creek and far into the cove where Mr. Hoppas' home stands apart from all others. On another evening, The Penland Playmakers, an amateur dramatic association affiliated with The Penland Weavers and Potters, presented two Carolina folk-plays, entitled, "Magnolia's Man" and "Lighted Candles." Mr. Hoppas and other members of his family urovided music for this occasion. The crowning point of formal entertainment came, however, when Percy MacKaye, noted poet and dramatist, read to the group one of his own plays-a Kentucky mountain fantasy, entitled "Timber." This play is an intensely moving tragedy dealing with the passing of the bee industry because of the unscrupulous cutting away of the timber from the mountains. Mr. MacKaye's Page 28 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK reading was characterized by touching sincerity and rare dramatic feeling, and his 'interpretation of the "folk-says" and superstitions, which he has delicately interwoven in the plot, was a source of great interest to the audience. An all day motor trip to Blowing Rock, a visit with Roby Buchanan, the lapidary who collects, cuts, and polishes native stones, and sociable gatherings in the homes of Penland neighbors furnished, particularly for urban dwellers, further unique adventures in recreation. Much, however, as the people who come from distances receive in the way of instruction and recreation and new experiences, their benefits could not be greater than those which accrue to the Penland group itself. To have a man like Mr. Worst give to them the .best of his knowledge and talent and enthusiasm-to sit down for a visit in their own homes with people who live in "fur-away" places, "way yan-side" of their own native hills-to be able themselves to teach spinning and dyeing alongside of Mr. Worst-these are all precious experiences for our own mountain folk. -Bonnie Willis Ford THE GUILD EXHIBIT AT BLACKSBURG The Southern Highland Handicraft Guild can with gratitude and pride mark August 1, 1933, as a red letter day. On that day, at the American Country Life Conference at Blacksburg, Virginia, was first shown their exhibit, Handicrafts of the Southern Highlands. This large gathering of rural social workers, sociologists, economists, politicians, and farmers, come to discuss the various aspects of the building of a fine rural -ivilization, seemed a particularly appropriate occasion for the showing. The great size and fine lighting of the gymnasium made possible a wonderful display. Within the quilt-, coverlet- and rug-hung walls all meetings were held and distin;uished addresses given by Secretary Wallace, Dr. Arthur Morgan, Dr. L. C. Gray, Mr. Norman Thomas, Mr. F. A. Whiting, and Mr. Allen Eaton. Upon entering the great hall, one felt instant pleasure in the beauty of balance and color of the walls. Enchanting variety of form and texture, richness yet harmony of color, a unity and balance throughout, gave keen delight, and testified to the genius of Mr. Eaton. On either side of the entrance was hung the collection of color prints, "Rural Scenes and Country Life." In these prints, selected by Mr. Eaton and circulated by the American Federation of Arts, artists of many lands have interpreted rural life. Next came the exhibit of handicrafts, wherein is worked out the urge of beauty in the rural folk of our own highlands. Forming a part of this exhibit and adding greatly to its interest and beauty was the collection of photographs, portrait studies of highland folk, by Doris Ulmann, so generously given by her to the Guild. The arrangement of the handicraft exhibit was masterly. A narrow low platform partly around the room, with a protecting railing stretched before it, made possible a perfect showing of the furniture. Chairs and stools, with their quilted and hooked mats, chests and drawers displaying on their tops wood-carved animals, paper knives, and stamp boxes, tables bearing woven covers and candle sticks, and the fascinating dolls' furniture and toys all had their places along the platform. Specially designed wooden stands held baskets in a most satisfying arrangement. Brooms in a great variety of designs formed an interesting group, as did different types of hand bags, and Indian bows, arrows, baskets and beadwork. The doll babies were a large and appealing family. Quilts, coverlets, hooked rugs, October, 1933 tapestry panels, blankets, couch throws, and scarfs made delightfully gay color spots and accents. Smaller articles such as towels, lunch sets, purses, and baby blankets were grouped on cardboad mounts and coveredi with cellophane. Specially constructed wooden packing cases fitted these mounts and kept the various articles fresh and attractive even after months of traveling. A particularly rich catalog has been printed to be sold everywhere the exhibit is shown. Its delightful cover and the map where the members of the Guild are located by their products were desil--ned by Martha Eaton. Besides listing the 586 articles included in the exhibit and quoting the prices, the catalog gives a list of the twenty-eight producing centers anc: seven individual members comprising the Guild membership. Mr. Frederick A. Whiting, president of the American Federation of Arts, came from Washington to preside over the Cultural Arts Program and to be present at the opening of the handicraft exhibit. The Federation is taking entire responsibility for circulating the exhibit throughout the United, States, and Mr. Whiting tells us that it is to be shown at the Corcoran Gallery of Art in Washington October fifteenth and at the Brooklyn Institute of Arts and Sciences in November. A very proud beginning! The Guild is greatly indebted to the American Federation of Arts and to Mr. Whiting. The Russell Sage Foundation has given us months of Mr. Eaton's time, the assistance of his office force, and space in their building for the assembling and preparing of the exhibit. We are indeed, grateful to them and to him. In his introductory speech, Mr. Whiting spoke of this exhibit as "one of the most significant and important exhibitions of handicrafts ever assembled in this country." The New York Sunday Times, in an article recently published in its art section, quotes Mr. Erwin Christensen, director of the educational work of the Federation of Arts as follows, "In the `Handicrafts of the Southern Highlands' we have brought together a most comprehensive collection of the best products of the whole territory of the Southern States. Because of the imrortance of this venture, we have secured the sponsorship of Mrs. Coolidge, Mrs. Hoover, and Mrs. Roosevelt." The secretary of the Handicraft Guild has written, "In these days when economic planning and relief measures are so prominently in the foreground, it seems to me that failure inevitably lies ahead unless a place is made for the spiritual and cultural development. . . As I saw the two exhibits-the artists' interpretation of rural life and the working out of the creative impulse in the rural folk themselves-they symbolized for me the beauty and joy that is possible for our rural dwellers even though the economic struggle is and may continue to be difficult. To have them participate in the creation of that beauty is the challenge of the task ahead of us." -Clementine Douglas NINTH CUMBERLAND PLATEAU CONFERENCE The Rural Community Conference, which gathers together leaders in numerous walks of life from eight or ten counties of the Cumberland Plateau region of Tennessee, held its ninth session at Ozone, Thursday, August 24. It seemed very appropriate that the chief subject for discussion at this session should be "The Future of the Plateau Region in the Light of the Tennessee Valley Development." Dr. A. E. Morgan of the Ten October, 1933 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 29 nessee Valley Authority .had planned to be present but was detained in Washington on business of the Authority, and sent W. R. Woolrich of the University of Tennessee as his personal representative. Dr. Woolrich opened the conference with a very clear and forceful explanation of hopes for "an experiment in making a new civilization" which is even now begun in the Tennessee valley. This experiment is not one which can be completed in a few years, but is concerned, with centuries. It is an attempt at controlling more adequately the resources upon which civilization is based. Social and spiritual resources have been the base of the business cycle from the dawn of history, and therefore it is they that must be controlled. Dr. A. E. Morgan was quoted as feeling that "if we preserve anything that is here now in the valley, the most essential thing is the spiritual background." The Tennessee Valley has been chosen for this experiment for several reasons: (1) the people here are not concerned with mass production either in agriculture or in industry; (2) the valley has already been surveyed and the recor~-s are available; (3) there is a common language and a common understanding; (4) Tennessee has natural resources necessary for a center of industry. A number of other interests were considered by the conference in the course of the day. Mr. Charles A. Keffer of the University Extension Service gave specific and helpful suggestions of ways to improve the appearance of the outside of a home-hints for beautifying that would apply equally to a one-room cabin or to a mansion. Mrs. J. S. Bowden of Crossville, Mrs. T. F. Belote of Ozone, and Mrs. P. A. Ervin from Pleasant Hill gave a few wor~,s each to show how the interior of a home can express the personality of the people who live there. Following the dinner hour Dr. Jarratt, Chairman of the Conference, introduced Congressman J. R. Mitchell who expressed his hopes for the success of the New Deal undertaken by the present government. A spirited discussion of the place of the church school in the educational program of today was opened with an address by Dr. Warren H. Wilson, Rural Work Secretary of the Presbyterian Board of National Missions. Dr. Wilson suggested that the church school should sever its connections with the public school, give only two years of high school work, and rewrite its curriculum to omit such subjects as are given only for the sake of accreditment, stressing in their place deeply motivating studies like history, practical subjects like agriculture and health and mechanical arts, and those which add to the joy of living like music, dramatics, literature, and good manners. Dr. Wilson stimulated a great deal of thought and discussion. The principals of the five church schools in this general region were present, and each contributed helpfully. These were Harry L. Upperman, Baxter Seminary; George C. Sublette, Alpine School; Hollis Edens, Cumberland Mountain School; Oscar M. Fogle, Pleasant Hill Academy; and Miss Rena Avery, Mossop School. Mr. F. 0. Clark, former vocational director of Berea College, added an interesting note to the conference by telling of his recent work in Korea where he has been engaged in conducting schools to encourage cooperation between the several churches and the government. He said that the problems under consider:3tion in Korea are remarkably like those in Tennessee, and that success depends here on a united program of the state of Tennessee, the United States government, and all church denominations. A delightful dinner served "home-style" by the Women's Community Club was only one sample of the generous hospitality of Ozone. The invitation from the Monterey Chamber of Commerce to hold, the next session of the conference in that community was accepted unanimously by the group. Officers nominated and elected for the following year are: George B. Kirwan, Monterey, Chairman; Harry L. Upperman, Baxter, Vice Chairman; E. E. White, Pleasant Hill, Secretary-Treasurer. A program committee was chosen as follows: Howard Hubbell, Nashville, Chairman; Paul Doran, Sparta; A. H. Edens, Crossville. The Rural Community Conference has been held at intervals since the early part of 1928 when it wa• called into being by a committee Qf business and professional tnen of Harriman, Tennessee, at the suggestion of the State Y. M. C. A. At first the session, were held twice a year but now are held annually in the month of August. The conference has provided unusual opportunity for the intimate discussion of all kind's of problems that affect the Plateau region. To a remarkable degree the same persons attend each year, so that one of the very finest results is the building of a fine fellowship and the deepening of interest in one another's activities. -Edwin E. White A SUCCESSFUL VENTURE Virginia and North Carolina have been bickering for years over the superiority of the road systems of their respective states. They smoked the pipe of peace from June 19-25, however, when a folk and country life conference was held at Massanetta Springs, Virginia-North Carolina furnishing the chief inspiration of the gathering. Religious conferences have been held at Massanetta Springs for the past twelve summers, under the auspices of the Synod of Virginia. This year the conference manager decided to launch out upon a new venture, opening the series of conferences with one which would emphasize the remarkable work done by the John C. Campbell Folk School at Brasstown, North Carolina. The program was left largely in Mrs. Campbell's hands. She was fortunate in being able to secure as a speaker Dr. William J. Hutchins, President of Berea College. He was an inspiration to the Conference. Helpful addresses were also given by Dr. H. W. McLaughlin, cirector of the country church work in the ~Presbyterian Church U. S., and Dr. Cordon H. Ward of the Extension Department of the Virginia Polytechnic Institute. Mrs. Campbell brought with her Miss Marguerite Butler, her assistant director, and Mr. Georg Bidstrup, a native of Denmark, and head of the Folk School Agricultural De~antment. Miss Butler and Mr. Bidstrup assisted Mrs. Campbell in putting on a program that was unique and de~ic'edly worth while. Aside from the addresses, rural problems were informally discussed and suggestions made as to the best way to solve them. Special emphasis was laid upon folk music for Mrs. Cam-,bell is an authority upon this subject. The most enlivening feature of the conference was the singing games. Miss Butler and Mr. Bidstrup were not the only persons who could coach courageous volunteers to whom these games were new. Mrs. Campbell brought two of the Folk School pupils whose grace was a dielight to watch as they led in the singing and guided novices in the rhythmical movements. These games were usually carried on in the hotel lobby. The young and old, dignified and frivolous, strong and weak, entered into them with a zest that amazed the audience. An Episcopal clergyman of marked dignity marched, leaped, and ducked with as much fervor as his more worldly partners. Page 30 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK October, 193; Exhibits of handicrafts from a number of mountain schools as well as the Folk School were on display and aroused considerable interest. The last week-day night of the conference was a delightful one. The singing games were played on the lovely lawn, huge oak trees forming the background. Songs were sung which carried the minds of the older people back to their childhood days, and some amusing skits were put on by the Folk School staff. The John C. Campbell Folk School is doing much to enrich the life of rural communities by mental stimulus, manual training, music, a 'fine sense of cooperation, and the joy of clean amusement coupled with work. Mrs. Campbell has touched the life of the mountain people in a vital way. Her dreams for their welfare, as well as the dreams of her husband, are already becoming a reality. One instinctively feels that she knows whereof she speaksthat her leadership in any undertaking bespeaks its success. Virginia would be almost willing to doff her hat to North Carolina for being the mother of this Folk School (in spite of the former's better road system) had she not tried to persuade Mrs. Campbell and Miss Butler to locate this school within her own borders, and failed. -Louise H. Hudson BOOK REVIEWS SOCIAL WORK YEAR BOOK, 1933 A Description of Organizer) Activities in Social Work and in Related Fields, Edited by Fred S. Hall. 680 p¢. New York. The Russell Sage Foundation, 1933. $4.00 Reviewed by Margret Trotter The first issue of the Social Work Year Book appeared in 1929. It was planned primarily as a record of events and developments in the various fields of social work, with statements of problems involved in these fields, and the work of existing agencies in eeting these problems. It was thought that succeeding issues would cover occurrences during the time between publications, )ut with the second issue this chronological plan has been laid aside. The emphasis is changed, the descriptive articles become more detailed, and one finds that problems and general conditions rather than enactments and specific developments during the period covered are stressed. The social worker now has available a concise encyclopedia, a summary of much "material already in print in more or less scattered form," as Mr. Hall explains in his preface. The plan is now to issue a revised edition from time to time, as seems advisable. Another change in the present issue is the welcome addition of an index, which, with the topical classification of articles given at the beginning, helps the reader to find material with a minimum amount of searching. Page headings arc clearly printed in large type; the pages are well-spaced and easily-read, and a number of cross-references are a convenient help. Those who wish to study specific topics in more detail will .find bibliographies following the articles. A directory of national public and private agencies and state public agencies is also included. Those who wish to know what is being done in the field of social work will find the information which they are seeking in this book. It is clear and readable as well as thorough. HOLLOW FOLK B3 Mandel Sherrnan and Thomas R. Henry. New York. Thomas Y. Crowell Co. $2.00 Reviewed by Marshall I:. Vaughn "Hollow Folk" was written jointly by Dr. Mandel Sherman of Chicago University and Thomas R. Henry, a newspaper writer. It is said to be a study of a mountain people who entered the valleys of the Blue Ridge over a century ago. Perhaps the authors should have stated more clearly than they have that their book is a study of a relatively small group of mountain people, and not the mountain people of the Blue Ridge as a whole, as appears to be implied. The laboratory method was used in making the study, but the field was too narrow and the .sampling too inadequate to apply findings to the whole region. One would not deny a single statement made in the book. One would not deny the accuracy of the description of a single community. One has seen all that was described and the mountain worker can give details of cases that appear to be even worse than those delineated by the authors. Yet their picture does not hold true for the mountains as a whole. The authors chose five hollows in the same general region of the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, ranging in culture and advancement from Colvin Hollow at the bottom of the scale of American civilization to Briarsville, a quasi-modern village in the valley at the edge of the mountains: Colvin Hollow has no community government, no organized religion, little social organization wider than that of the family or clan. The ragged children, until 1928, never had seen the flag or heard of the Lord's Prayer. They speak a peculiar language. Next in the scale of social organization in this region is Needles Hollow at the head of a rocky trail: Here a few men are literate. The community has a combined church-school (which, by way of comment, is not bad for an isolated community). Nearly every family has a pig and a few chickens. Oakton Hollow is the third step in the way of progress: Agriculture here is organized. The chief crops are corn and apples. There is the beginning of industry in the paring and drying of apples for the market. The churchschool is in fairly frequent use both for worship and education. Nearly every home has a mail order catalog. Rigby Hollow is the fourth in the scale: Mail is received daily. The people learn about politics, crime, science and music. Radios are not unknown and telephones are in partial use. There is more money in circulation. The highest locality the valley: Here is found a progressive school in a modern building. Church services are conducted regularly. All the common American games are played and there is a systematic knowledge of national politics. By far the largest portion of the book is devoted to Colvin Hollow and its inhabitants. The absence of any understandable religion, the horrors of child-birth unattended, the blank lives of the Colvin Hollow folk in general make a pathetic story. In Colvin Hollow whether the newborn child lives or dies is of no great concern to anybody but the mother. The book lists many home remedies that have evolved through the ages and have always been an important factor in the lives of country people everywhere. Tuberculosis is treated by swallowing a live snail, the slime of the snail "curing" the lungs, to mention but one instance. Fear and superstition are treated in a chapter. Colvin Hollow is a haunted valley. At all hours the forms of nature undergo weird transformations in the twilight of the thickets. (Continued, on Page 31) in the scale is Briarsville in the edge of October, 1933 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Page 31 MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK Helen H. Dingman Dr. Wllllaln lanlcs Hutchins Orrin L. Keener May B. Smith Editor Counsellor Associate Editor Associate Editor CONTRIBUTING EDITORS tives of four church boards, the Home Missions Council, and five other organizations interested in the Southern Mountains, besides representatives of eight mountain schools and centers formed the party. From October 16th to 25th the group, traveling by car, will visit schools and centers in Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina and North Georgia. At Pineville, Kentucky, a conference with local mine authorities and relief and health workers was held, and another in Knoxville with Dr. Arthur E. Morgan and other officials of the Tennessee Valley Authority. Dr. Warren H. Wilson __ ___ ___ New York City FIRST REGIONAL CONFERENCE Mrs. John C. Campbell Mr. Marshall E. Vaughn Mr. John P. McConnell Brasstown, N. C. Berea, Ky. East Radford, Va. Dr. Arthur T. McCorn:ack Louisville, Ky. Dr. E. C. Branson Dr. John Tigert Chapel Hill, N. C. Gainesville, Fla. ISSUED QUARTERLY-JANUARY, APRIL, JULY, OCTOBER Subscription Price $1.00 per year. Single Copy 30c. Entered at the Post Office at Berea, Ky., as second class mail matter ADDRESS ALL COMMUNICATIONS TO MOUNTAIN LIFE AND WORK BEREA, KENTUCKY IMPORTANT The dates for the twenty-second annual Conference of Southern Mountain Workers have been set for March 20-22, 1934. The Conference will be held as usual in Knoxville, Tennessee. STUDY TOUR UNDER WAY As we go to press, the Study Tour in the Mountains, a project planned at the last Conference of Southern Mountain Workers, is in progress. Originally limited to twenty, the quota, even when it was stretched to twenty-four, could not accommodate all who wished to go. Representa Another project outlined at the last Conference is under way. Plans are already on foot for a regional conference for mountain workers in Eastern Kentucky, to be held November 24-25, at Robinson Experiment Station, Quicksand, Kentucky. Common problems will be discussed, and studied cooperatively. HANDICRAFT GUILD MEETING The fall meeting of the Southern Mountain Handicraft Guild was held at Crossnore School, Crossnore, North Carolina, October 10-11. One of the most interesting developments of the Guild has been the exhibit now on display in the Corcoran Galley, Washington. The exhibit, assembled and shown under the auspices of the American Federation of Arts, will be available for showing at museums and galleries throughout the country during the coming winter. It has aroused much favorable comment wherever it has been shown. BOOK REVIEWS (Continued from Page 30) Ghosts and demons of the dead walk at night. According to the investigation of the authors, superstitions and magical beliefs, however, are more prevalent in the hollows of higher culture levels than Colvin Hollow. These people are not high enough in the scale of civilization to transmit from generation to generation the folk-lore, signs, superstitions of the past. Wants of children of different ages in these hollows investigated were scarcely different from those of other rural children. Their wants were expressed in terms of their experience, which is as far as any child can go. It was found that play activities tended to become more individualistic and less of a group enterprise according to the remoteness of the hollows. Though evidently written for the psychologist and ethnologist, "Hollow Folk" has much of value for the sociologist, directing attention to a static condition which exists in various localities of one of our oldest regions. OUR CONTRIBUTORS ALLEN EATON, of the Department of Surveys and Exhibits, Russell Sage Foundation, is author of Immigrant Gifts to American Life. GEORGE FORT MILTON is editor of The Chattanooga News, and author of several books. He is now engaged on a biography of Stephen A. Douglas. O. LATI-IAM HATCHER is President of the Southern Woman's Educational Alliance, and author of books on vocational guidance. BONNIE WILLIS FORD, a Berea graduate, is associated with Miss Lucy Morgan in the Penland Weavers and Potters. RUTH LouisE PARKER, associated with the work of Save the Children Fund in Tennessee, came to the mountains after years in relief and missionary work in China and among the American Indians. H. W. HOPKIRK is Special Assistant for the Study of Institutional Needs with the Child Welfare League of America. This wagaaine was Printed by the Berea College Press irr which more than thirty-free students earn all or part of their e.% fierr.scs.

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