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A very good guess。 But guesses are no use without facts。 Look。
Oh； I remember now。 I know now the soil of the field is brown； like
the garden； and the soil of the moor all black and peaty。
Yes。 But if you dig down two or three feet； you will find the soils of
the moor and the field just the same。 So perhaps the top soils were once
both alike。
I know。
Well； and what do you think about it now？ I want you to look and
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MADAM HOW AND LADY WHY
think。 I want every one to look and think。 Half the misery in the world
comes first from not looking； and then from not thinking。 And I do not
want you to be miserable。
But shall I be miserable if I do not find out such little things as this。
You will be miserable if you do not learn to understand little things：
because then you will not be able to understand great things when you
meet them。 Children who are not trained to use their eyes and their
common sense grow up the more miserable the cleverer they are。
Why？
Because they grow up what men call dreamers； and bigots； and
fanatics； causing misery to themselves and to all who deal with them。 So
I say again； think。
Well； I suppose men must have altered the soil inside the bank。
Well done。 But why do you think so？
Because； of course； some one made the bank； and the brown soil only
goes up to it。
Well； that is something like common sense。 Now you will not say
any more； as the cows or the butterflies might； that the hay…field was
always there。
And how did men change the soil？
By tilling it with the plough； to sweeten it； and manuring it； to make it
rich。
And then did all these beautiful grasses grow up of themselves？
You ought to know that they most likely did not。 You know the new
enclosures？
Yes。
Well then； do rich grasses come up on them； now that they are broken
up？
Oh no； nothing but groundsel； and a few weeds。
Just what； I dare say； came up here at first。 But this land was tilled
for corn； for hundreds of years； I believe。 And just about one hundred
years ago it was laid down in grass； that is； sown with grass seeds。
And where did men get the grass seeds from？
Ah； that is a long story； and one that shows our forefathers （though
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MADAM HOW AND LADY WHY
they knew nothing about railroads or electricity） were not such simpletons
as some folks think。 The way it must have been done was this。 Men
watched the natural pastures where cattle get fat on the wild grass； as they
do in the Fens； and many other parts of England。 And then they saved
the seeds of those fattening wild grasses； and sowed them in fresh spots。
Often they made mistakes。 They were careless； and got weeds among the
seed like the buttercups； which do so much harm to this pasture。 Or
they sowed on soil which would not suit the seed； and it died。 But at last；
after many failures； they have grown so careful and so clever； that you
may send to certain shops； saying what sort of soil yours is； and they will
send you just the seeds which will grow there； and no other； and then you
have a good pasture for as long as you choose to keep it good。
And how is it kept good？
Look at all those loads of hay； which are being carried off the field。
Do you think you can take all that away without putting anything in its
place？
Why not？
If I took all the butter out of the churn； what must I do if I want more
butter still？
Put more cream in。
So； if I want more grass to grow； I must put on the soil more of what
grass is made of。
But the butter don't grow； and the grass does。
What does the grass grow in？
The soil。
Yes。 Just as the butter grows in the churn。 So you must put fresh
grass…stuff continually into the soil； as you put fresh cream into the churn。
You have heard the farm men say； 〃That crop has taken a good deal out of
the land〃？
Yes。
Then they spoke exact truth。 What will that hay turn into by
Christmas？ Can't you tell？ Into milk； of course； which you will drink；
and into horseflesh too； which you will use。
Use horseflesh？ Not eat it？
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No； we have not got as far as that。 We did not even make up our
minds to taste the Cambridge donkey。 But every time the horse draws
the carriage； he uses up so much muscle； and that muscle he must get back
again by eating hay and corn； and that hay and corn must be put back
again into the land by manure； or there will be all the less for the horse
next year。 For one cannot eat one's cake and keep it too； and no more can
one eat one's grass。
So this field is a truly wonderful place。 It is no ugly pile of brick and
mortar； with a tall chimney pouring out smoke and evil smells； with
unhealthy； haggard people toiling inside。 Why do you look surprised？
Becausebecause nobody ever said it was。 You mean a manufactory。
Well； and this hay…field is a manufactory： only like most of Madam
How's workshops； infinitely more beautiful； as well as infinitely more
crafty； than any manufactory of man's building。 It is beautiful to behold；
and healthy to work in； a joy and blessing alike to the eye； and the mind；
and the body： and yet it is a manufactory。
But a manufactory of what？
Of milk of course； and cows； and sheep； and horses； and of your body
and minefor we shall drink the milk and eat the meat。 And therefore it
is a flesh and milk manufactory。 We must put into it every year yard…
stuff； tank…stuff； guano； bones； and anything and everything of that kin；
that Madam How may cook it for us into grass； and cook the grass again
into milk and meat。 But if we don't give Madam How material to work
on； we cannot expect her to work for us。 And what do you think will
happen then？ She will set to