the city. She didn't know a Jersey from a Hereford, or a Wyandotte
from a Plymouth Rock.

"You'll be back in six months," her friends said.

Four years have passed. Mrs. Charles S. Tupper still is "buried" in
the country. Moreover, she is supplying eggs, chickens, honey, and
home-canned goods to those of her former associates who are willing
to pay for quality.

"Farming," said Mrs. Tupper, "is the ideal vocation for the woman
who feels the modern desire for a job and the need of marriage and a
home.

"I never wanted a job so keenly as when I found myself in a small
city apartment without enough to do to keep me busy. After I'd swept
and dusted and prepared meals for two, I had hours of time on my
hands. The corner bakeshop, the laundry, and modern conveniences had
thrust upon me more leisure than I could use. Mr. Tupper is a young
engineer whose work takes him to various parts of the Southwest. In
his absence I felt strongly the need of filling up my idle hours in
some interesting, useful way.

"I didn't quite like the idea of spending all my spare time on
cards, calling, women's clubs, and social pleasures. I longed to be
a real partner to my husband and to share in making the family
income as well as spending it.

"We had a few thousand saved for a home, and were trying to decide
where to build. One day it flashed upon me: 'Why invest in city