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The Money Revolution
 The Money Revolution
How to Finance the Next American
Century

RICHARD DUNCAN
Copyright © 2022 Richard Duncan.

Registered office

John Wiley & Sons Ltd, The Atrium, Southern Gate, Chichester, West Sussex, PO19 8SQ,
United Kingdom

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Library of Congress Cataloging-­in-­Publication Data

Names: Duncan, Richard, 1960- author.

Title: The money revolution : how to finance the next American century /
Richard Duncan.
Description: Hoboken, NJ : Wiley, [2022] | Includes bibliographical
references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2021043246 (print) | LCCN 2021043247 (ebook) | ISBN
9781119856269 (cloth) | ISBN 9781119856276 (adobe pdf) | ISBN
9781119856283 (epub)
Subjects: LCSH: Finance—United States. | Technological
innovations—Economic aspects—United States. | Investments—United
States. | Monetary policy—United States. | Money—United States. |
United States—Economic policy. | United States. Federal Reserve Board.
Classification: LCC HG181 .D85 2022 (print) | LCC HG181 (ebook) | DDC
332.10973—dc23/eng/20211014
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021043246
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021043247

Cover Design: Wiley

Cover Image: © xtock/Shutterstock
With special thanks to everyone who has subscribed to
Macro Watch during the last eight years.
Your financial support has made this book possible.
 Contents

INTRODUCTION1

PART I: Money5
CHAPTER 1 The Power of the Fed 7
CHAPTER 2 1914 to 1920: World War I 35
CHAPTER 3 1920 to 1930: After the War 47
CHAPTER 4 1930 to 1941: The Great Depression 57
CHAPTER 5 1941 to 1945: World War II 77
CHAPTER 6 1945 to 1971: The Bretton Woods Era 97
CHAPTER 7 1971 to 2007: After Gold 113

PART II: Credit125

CHAPTER 8 Credit Creation by the Banking System 129
CHAPTER 9 Credit Creation by the Financial Sector 161
CHAPTER 10 Credit Creation by Foreign Central Banks 187
CHAPTER 11 Creditism213
CHAPTER 12 2007 to 2016: Crisis and Response 239
CHAPTER 13 Creditism Between the Crises 277
CHAPTER 14 Pandemic297
CHAPTER 15 Inflation319

vii
viii Contents

PART III: The Future 357

CHAPTER 16 America Must Invest 359
CHAPTER 17 Inadequate Investment 367
CHAPTER 18 R&D: The Future Depends on It 389
CHAPTER 19 America Can Afford to Invest 415
CHAPTER 20 Monetize the Debt 437
CHAPTER 21 An Investment Revolution 467

CONCLUSION 483

About the Author 485

Bibliography 487
Index 493
 Introduction

O ver the last century, wars, depressions, political ambition,

regulatory mistakes, greed, and geopolitical competition
have entirely transformed the monetary system of the United
States. They have transformed the very nature of money itself.
A momentous and irreversible turning point occurred five dec-
ades ago when dollars ceased to be backed by gold. After-
wards, a worldwide credit bubble took shape that fundamentally
changed the structure of the global economy and the rules that
govern how it functions.
That bubble and the global civilization it has created will not
survive if left to market forces. Therefore, we have two choices.
We can allow the bubble to implode and hope to live through the
ensuing cataclysm, which could be far worse than the one that
shook the world from 1930 to 1945, following the collapse of an
earlier and smaller credit bubble. Alternatively, we can learn how
to effectively manage our new economic system to ensure that it
prospers rather than disintegrates.
A dangerous pessimism, based on a misunderstanding of how
the economy works today, is becoming entrenched in the minds
of far too many Americans. Proponents of the Austrian School of
Economics preach that due to the United States’ egregious trans-
gressions in abandoning sound money and balanced budgets, a
harsh day of reckoning inevitably awaits us in the near future,
with many arguing, perversely, that since our economic Judge-
ment Day cannot be prevented, the sooner it arrives, the better.
While it is certainly true that the US economy would col-
lapse into a new great depression if the policies advocated by the

1
2 Introduction

Austrian economists were implemented, it is absolutely not true

that the doom they foretell is either imminent or inevitable.
This book rejects that pessimistic and debilitating philoso-
phy and argues instead that the new economic environment we
find ourselves in today presents us with previously unimaginable
opportunities to grow and prosper by investing in the industries
of the future on an unprecedented scale. It explains that our eco-
nomic system has been profoundly altered by the evolution of
money and the proliferation of credit over the last century; that, in
fact, a Money Revolution has occurred.
Once the nature of our current economic system is prop-
erly understood, the correct path forward becomes clear. If we
adopt that path our economic future will be bright. This book
explains how our economy works now and the opportunities it
presents us.
The Money Revolution is divided into three parts. Part One,
Money, describes the evolution of money and monetary policy in
the United States from the establishment of the Federal Reserve
System in 1913 to the eve of the financial crisis of 2008. It also
discusses the events that forced the US monetary system to
evolve. These seven chapters provide a history of the Federal
Reserve System and explain everything necessary to understand
how the Fed conducts monetary policy in the twenty-­first century.
They also demonstrate the colossal power the US central bank
has at its disposal.
Part Two, Credit, shows that as the nature of money changed,
it brought about a transformation of the economic system as well.
It describes the astonishing proliferation of credit in the United
States during the five decades since dollars ceased to be backed
by gold. It discusses the impact that very rapid credit growth has
had on the US economy and shows that economic growth is
now dependent on credit growth. It also demonstrates that there
are effectively no longer any limits as to how much money the
United States government can borrow. Moreover, it shows that if
credit fails to expand, the economy will collapse into a depres-
sion. Next, it describes the Fed’s successful policy response to
the financial crisis of 2008 and its current efforts to support the
Introduction 3

economy through the COVID-­19 pandemic. It ends with a survey

of the causes of inflation over the last century.
Part Three, The Future, draws on the lessons that can be
derived from the history of the Money Revolution detailed in
Parts One and Two; and calls for the United States to carry out a
multitrillion-­dollar investment program over the next 10 years. It
begins by explaining why such a large-­scale investment program
is possible. It then shows that it is also urgently required, since
the current level of investment in the United States is dangerously
inadequate. It then discusses how this investment program could
be structured and the industries it should target. Next, it explains
how it could be financed at no cost whatsoever to US taxpayers.
Finally, it describes the extraordinary benefits that an investment
program of this nature would be sure to deliver.
A Money Revolution has occurred and rewritten all the rules
of finance and economics. It presents the United States the oppor-
tunity to invest in new industries and technologies on a scale
large enough to open up the possibility of curing all the diseases,
radically expanding life expectancy, developing limitless clean
energy, rehabilitating the environment, and solving many of the
other most intractable challenges confronting humanity – not gen-
erations from now, but in our own lifetime.
The objective of The Money Revolution: How to Finance
the Next American Century is to persuade the American public
and US policymakers that the United States must seize this oppor-
tunity. If we do, it is certain that the first American Century will
not be the last.
 PART I
Money

Introduction
Part One of this book presents a history of the Federal Reserve
System that details the role the Fed has played in The Money
Revolution.
Chapter 1 begins by relating why the Federal Reserve System
was created, how it was intended to function, and the con-
straints originally placed upon it. From there, it explains the
Fed’s role in distributing the currency and, much more impor-
tantly, how the Fed creates money by extending Federal Reserve
Credit. The chapter deciphers the arcane jargon that is normally
used to discuss monetary policy. It concludes with a simple
explanation of the tools and techniques the Fed employs to con-
trol credit availability within the United States.
The rest of Part One tells the history of the Federal Reserve
System and US monetary policy by analyzing changes in the
Fed’s balance sheet over six consecutive periods between 1914
and 2007. The changing composition of the Fed’s assets and lia-
bilities reveals how the institution evolved from being the rel-
atively passive lender of last resort established by the Federal
Reserve Act of 1913 to becoming the US government’s most
powerful economic policy tool today.

5
 Another Random Document on
Scribd Without Any Related Topics
I do not know how long I lay there. When I awoke the moon was
shining, and I continued my journey down the sidewalk, hoping to
find my yard. But when after a long walk I didn’t find it, not knowing
what else to do, I sat down by a tree and began to cry.
To make me still more wretched and unhappy, two boys came along,
and one of them started to pelt me with stones. He was the same
boy that had chased me out of his yard that very morning. I suppose
he would have killed me had not a kind lady come along just at that
moment. I was trying to hide behind the tree so the stones would not
hit me, but as soon as the lady saw me, she called one of the boys
by name. “Teddy, dear,” said she, “I am surprised to see that you will
allow such a heartless thing as this to happen in your presence.
Think how your mother would feel if she knew of it.”
The lady then stooped down and talked very kindly to me, and I
answered her; and when she got up to go, I followed, and cried after
her so loudly that she finally picked me up and took me with her. Oh,
how glad I was to get away from that dreadful boy and his stones! I
kissed the gloves on the hands that held me to show my
thankfulness.
My lady friend had walked but a short distance when she stopped at
a little house and rang the bell; but the house was dark, and it was a
long time before any one opened the door. At last a lady came out,
and my friend said, “Isn’t this one of your kittens?”
“Yes,” said the lady, without even looking at me, “they run away
every little while.”
Then she took me out of my friend’s hands and carried me to the
kitchen, and put me in a basket that had a nice soft pad in it, and
some other cats. But they did not notice me, and very soon I fell
asleep and forgot the day’s troubles.
 II
BUDGE AND TODDY

The next morning I was still in the basket when I heard some one
say: “Do look, here is a new kitten, a tiger! it must be the one I took
in last night, thinking it was mine.” The voice was the same that I had
heard at the door the evening before.
For a moment I feared that I should lose my nice new home; but
when I saw the lady’s round, good-natured face, I knew that she
could not find it in her heart to turn away a helpless little creature like
me, even if she had taken me in by mistake.
After petting the other kittens a while, the lady took me up and
looked into my eyes, and said I had a good face. Then a big boy
came out and she put me into his arms. I trembled when he took me,
for I had learned to be afraid of boys. But this boy handled me very
gently, and after looking me all over carefully and pressing me fondly
to his cheek, he said, “Why, mamma, this is a beautiful kitty! Won’t
you let her stay?” Then he put me very tenderly back into the basket.
“She looks so much like our old Meow,” said the lady, “I think we will
keep her.” You can imagine that this made me very happy.
They named me “Meow,” and the other two cats were “Budge” and
“Toddy.” They were Maltese.
For a time Budge and Toddy acted anything but friendly toward me,
but as they were bigger than I, I just kept very quiet, while they stood
by the edge of the basket, humping their backs, bristling their tails
and grinning at me to their hearts’ content. Pretty soon mistress
came out with our breakfast, and they ran to meet her; but I
remained in the basket until invited to join them. I was glad mistress
stayed while we ate, for Budge gave an angry growl every now and
then, and Toddy tried his best to crowd me out of the dish. But the
breakfast tasted good just the same, because a day’s fasting had
made me very hungry.
I saw at once that Budge and Toddy were very well-bred cats, for
they washed themselves as soon as they had finished the meal, just
as my dear mother had taught me to do. But being in a new place,
and amid strange surroundings, somehow I forgot myself for a time,
and while Budge and Toddy washed I just sat and watched them.
When Toddy had finished, to my great surprise he came over and
started to wash me too. I suppose he thought I hadn’t been properly
taught because I sat and watched him instead of washing myself.
But I soon showed him that he was mistaken, and I have ever since
strictly observed the rule of washing after meals.
They say folks wash before meals, and that only cats wait until
afterward. The reason for this is, as I have heard, that once a cat
had caught a nice fat mouse, and was just going to make a dinner of
her, when Mousie said: “Shame on you, to eat without first washing
yourself.” So the cat stopped to wash; and while she did so, Mousie
ran back into her hole.
When Budge and Toddy saw that I had really come amongst them to
stay they wanted to know where I had come from, and I very gladly
told them. As I talked about my proud and beautiful Virginia mother,
and my sweet little mistress, Miss Virgie, and her playhouse, they
kept moving closer and closer to me; and when I finished, Toddy said
he hoped I would stay, and that he and Budge would do all they
could to make it pleasant for me. They both begged me to forgive
them for their spiteful conduct in the early morning; from that time on
they acted very kindly toward me, and I was permitted to join them in
their play.
I soon found that they had many cozy corners all around the yard, as
well as in the house, and one of our favorite places was under the
porch, where we used to go for safety. You may wonder what I mean
by “safety,” when we have such a kind mistress and such a good
home. I will tell you.
Mistress and the boy are away all day, and very often during those
days when we were small, helpless kittens, a certain little boy would
come into our yard and annoy us. He had no one to play with, and I
suppose he wanted to play with us, but he didn’t know how. How I
did wish that the “bus” would come and take him to the kindergarten.
Whenever he came in, if we saw him in time, we would run as fast as
we could and crawl in between the latticework under the porch, and
hide in there till he had gone.
As time went by the fur on my back and sides became worn very
short, because I had such hard work to squeeze through. You see I
grew bigger every day, and the hole didn’t.
One day our little tormentor tied a string around Toddy’s neck,
fastened it to his velocipede, and then rode up and down the
sidewalk, as fast as he could. And there is no telling how long he
would have kept it up if a kind neighbor across the street had not
come over and taken Toddy away from him.
When mistress came home that evening, they told her about Eddie’s
cruelty, and as she had warned him already many times to let her
kittens alone, she said she would report the case to the “Humane
Agent.”
I never learned what the gentleman did, but from that day Eddie did
not trouble us for a long time, and we think that next to mistress and
the boy, the Humane Agent is our best friend.
But alas for poor Budge and Toddy! A few moons after I came to my
new home Toddy disappeared, and we all felt very badly about it.
The next day Budge went away, I suppose to look for Toddy, and he
never came back. Then for several days mistress and the boy had
such sad faces that it made me very unhappy. They asked the
milkman and the grocer and the letter-carrier to look out for the two
kittens, but we never heard anything more of them, and I was without
any companions for quite a while.
As for me I rather enjoyed being alone, because mistress and the
boy paid more attention to me than they had ever done before. At
meal-time I was allowed to sit on a chair beside mistress, and at
night I slept at the foot of her bed.
But the days seemed very long, until I became acquainted with our
neighbor’s dog, Dennis, a large handsome fellow with brown curly
hair and beautiful brown eyes. Although Dennis had more good
things at home than any one dog could eat, for he was always
burying something in his yard, yet he came to our house daily for the
little titbits that mistress would give to him. But having had one
unpleasant experience with a dog I kept at a distance from Dennis;
till one day he proved himself a real friend. Two saucy little curs
came into my yard and chased me up a tree, when Dennis, with one
bound, jumped at them and drove them away, and after that he and I
were the best of friends.
 III
MY REASONS FOR WRITING THIS STORY

When mistress and the boy are at home, he generally reads aloud to
her and at such times I usually sit on his lap or by his side. About the
time Budge and Toddy went away he read a story which was written
by “Black Beauty,” a horse. I thought it was rather peculiar that a
horse should write a story. But Black Beauty told people how to take
care of horses, how to provide for their comfort and how to
sympathize with them, in doing which he set the whole world to
thinking for a time about nothing but horses, and in that way did
them a very good turn.
By the way, the boy’s name is Guy. His eyes are just like Miss
Virgie’s, and he has beautiful flaxen hair.
Guy
Before I knew Guy, I supposed all boys were rude and cruel, but I
feel sure now that I was mistaken. One of Guy’s dearest friends is
Teddy, who was with the boy that threw stones at me on that sad day
when I was a homeless cat. Teddy came to see Guy quite often, but
he always treated me very kindly. I really think it a pity that he should
ever have been with that cruel boy.
 My Friend Dennis
After Guy had finished reading the story of Black Beauty, he read
one written by a dog, “Beautiful Joe.” I saw his picture in the book,
but I did not think him half as beautiful as my friend Dennis that visits
me every day. But Joe had a beautiful spirit, and that counts far more
than a beautiful body. Who could read of the cruel blows and kicks
and all the other insults which he suffered so patiently at the hands
and feet of old Jenkins, without feeling in his inmost soul that
henceforth he would defend and protect all helpless and harmless
creatures? In this way Joe conferred a lasting benefit upon his
fellow-dogs, and even I, who am only a cat, with no natural fondness
for dogs, must say that I learned many things from Joe that made me
have more respect for dogs. I also became filled with a desire to be
as good and useful a cat as Joe was a dog, and it was during those
long, lonesome days when I was without any companions that the
thought came to me about writing this story. May be you think a cat
does not even have thoughts. How dreadful! Well, I thought if dogs
and horses can write stories, why can’t I? And so I concluded to try.
I had often heard mistress read stories about cats, cat shows and cat
clubs, but it was always about Persian cats and Angoras, and I made
up my mind that my story should be about tigers and Maltese and
black cats, because they are considered to be of so very little
importance. I have known of many a poor, sick cat just treated as a
nuisance, and compelled to stay outdoors; whereas then, if ever, she
needs a warm, comfortable place, and nourishing food.
And when a cat has kittens, she is usually put into the barn, or the
basement, if tolerated in the house at all. Now very few kittens will
learn orderly habits when raised in a place where they can do as
they please; and when such a kitten is taken into a home it causes
no end of trouble. In many cases it is abused and made very
miserable, not for any fault of its own, but because it has not been
properly trained. This is one reason why there are so many poor
tramp cats. Another reason is, that some people will let a cat raise
five or six kittens without paying any attention to her needs as to
food or shelter, and the poor things somehow live, or rather, they
exist. Then when nobody wants them, as is always the case with
kittens raised in this way, they are given to the milkman or to some
farmer to be “strayed” out in the country, where no other fate awaits
them but slow starvation. In a case like this, five cents’ worth of
chloroform administered to the kittens at the time of birth, leaving
only one alive for the mother cat, would have saved them from the
terrible tortures of starvation.
Then too some people who are very kind-hearted themselves, have
cruel servants who look upon a pet in the household as an added
burden, and who will utterly neglect, if not positively abuse them.
Right here I am reminded of an incident told to mistress by a young
lady who called one evening. She was doing some writing for a
minister, and she said that almost daily her feelings were wrought up
at sight of an old black cat, gaunt looking, half-starved, and with a
broken leg, hobbling around in the yard. “To-day,” said she, “I had
some milk left over from my lunch, and I asked the cook for the cat’s
dish.”
“Cat’s dish! the cat ain’t got no dish, throw it on the walk,” was the
reply. “Why,” continued the lady, “I saw enough table scraps thrown
into the garbage can each day to make a feast for that poor cat, and
not one of the good people ever gave her a thought.”
Speaking of ministers reminds me of a gentleman that called on
mistress one evening, and as I happened to be lying on the library
table, they fell to talking about me, and about cats and dogs
generally.
“It’s all right,” said the gentleman, “for people that can afford it, to
have pets. But in my experience in visiting among all classes of
people, somehow wherever I find a big family of half-fed and
neglected children there are sure to be in the same home one or
more cats or dogs, and sometimes both; and of course, the food that
is given to them ought by rights to go to the children. But the worst of
it is, these people seem to think as much of their cats and dogs as
they do of their children.”
“That is an unintended compliment,” said mistress, “which proves the
softening and humanizing effect of these pets upon those with whom
they associate. And certainly, this more than makes up for the few
little extra morsels that they require for their maintenance.”
Now I have told you some of the things I would like to bring to the
notice of ladies and children especially. Oh, if with this story I start all
the world to think for awhile about cats—Maltese and tigers and
black cats, that are so much exposed to suffering because within the
reach of everybody, I shall feel that I have done some real good. And
even if I do not write as good a story as did Black Beauty, or
Beautiful Joe, you will at least know that I tried to do what I could to
help my fellow-cats. And who knows but some cats, older and wiser
than myself, may be encouraged by my effort to do more?
 IV
A PLEASANT OUTING

When the time came for mistress and Guy to take their summer
outing, they did not desert me or leave me to the mercies of our
neighbors, as has been the fate of many a poor cat. No; they very
thoughtfully made the necessary provision to take me with them.
When they were ready to start, they put me in a nice big bag, which
Guy suspended over his shoulder. It was a bag that mistress brought
from Switzerland, and I have heard her say it is such a one as the
women there carry to market when they go to buy provisions. It had
large holes between the stitches so I could look through, and see
what was going on.
First we took a long ride on a street car and Guy held me on his lap.
But never having been on a car, I was dreadfully afraid of the noise.
Guy held me real close to his breast and talked kindly to me, but by
the time I got over being afraid, we were at the end of our ride.
When we alighted from the street car, we boarded a big steamboat
on which we rode all day. Mistress allowed me to walk around a little,
and I saw the beautiful water and the bright sunshine, and some
birds. How birds could live on the water greatly puzzled me.
There were many people on the boat, and some children played with
me and gave me cake and popcorn. I thought they must have cats at
home, for they knew just what cats like.
But while the children were very polite to me, some of the older
people were just the reverse. For instance, there was a woman who
poked her umbrella into my side, saying: “There is a cat; what a
nuisance!”
Mistress said to her very kindly: “It is my kitty.”
Then the woman asked mistress a good many questions about me:
why she didn’t leave me at home; how she could be bothered with a
cat when traveling; or, was it a new “fad.”
Mistress told her there was no one at home, and that she thought it
cruel to desert a faithful domestic animal. Furthermore, she said, I
had been no trouble to her so far, and that this was not the first time
she had had a cat for a traveling companion.
Then the woman became more polite to me, and said I had a
beautiful coat and a pleasing face.
After a while a big girl came over to where I lay. She came so quickly
it frightened me, and I got up and started to run from her, but she
grabbed me by the tail and pulled me back.
Of course, I cried out, not so much from pain, as because of the
insolence of such treatment.
“What’s the matter, Tabby?” said she.
I said “Me-ow” just as loud as I could.
Mistress told her I was not used to being pulled around by my tail.
Then the girl stroked my back and smoothed my fur, and I was no
longer afraid. I think she did not mean to frighten me, only she didn’t
know the proper way to call a cat.
Mistress told her how I stayed at home alone every day when she
was gone, and never ran away, and how I behaved so nicely on the
cars. I am sure the girl will be a better friend to cats hereafter.
I had never before been in such a large crowd as there was on that
boat, and I could not help noticing what a difference there is in
people. Some in passing by would look at me sneeringly, and even
point their fingers; some would take no notice of me at all; others
would smile, and still others would bend over and give me a gentle
stroke. But the children—bless their dear hearts—they all had good
words for me, and some gave me something even better.
As the sun was going down we arrived at a place where the boat
stopped and everybody got off. Guy put me into my nice bag, and
the next thing I knew we were in a large room in a great big strange
house that they called a hotel. Guy got me a saucer of milk for my
supper, and I slept all night on mistress’ bed.
The next morning we started out right after breakfast and took a long
ride in a carriage. I noticed after we had ridden a while that it was a
very long distance between houses. Finally we stopped at a nice
white cottage with green blinds, standing in a yard that was so long I
could not see the next house. They called it a farm.
The weather being terribly hot, the long ride in the carriage had
made me very ill; I could hardly get my breath, and I was dizzy. I lay
in the orchard under an apple tree, and mistress sat beside me,
wondering what to do. Finally she poured some castor oil down my
throat, which tasted very unpleasant; but in a few hours I was all
right again, and after that I had a delightful time.
There were two big cats on the farm; one white and the other yellow;
and as they had no name, only “Kitty,” mistress named the white one
“Blanche” and the yellow one “Goldie.”
They did not like me at first; in fact they acted just like Budge and
Toddy did when I came to live with my mistress. But the next
morning mistress took us all in her lap and petted us for a long time;
then she gave us some nice warm milk in a big saucer, and we ate
breakfast together; and after that Blanche and Goldie were more
friendly towards me. But we did not see much of each other, for they
spent most of their time out in the field. Their “corner” was a big
market-basket on the kitchen porch; but I did not have to share it
with them, because I always slept on my mistress’ bed.
This reminds me of a wicked slander on cats that I have heard,
namely, that it is not safe for people to sleep in the same room with
them for fear they will suck their breath and cause them to suffocate.
The only foundation for this is that cats love warmth. When sleeping
in a cold room they will seek out the warmest place they can find,
and if that happens to be near a person’s face, they are apt to go
there; not because they want to suck the breath, but simply because
they love the warmth that emanates with the breath.
An old gentleman lived on the farm whom Guy called grandpa, and
an old lady whom he called grandma, whose portraits I had often
seen in mistress’ room. Grandpa was abed most of the time, and
was visited every day by a man they called “Doctor.” It was he who
told mistress to give me castor oil.
One day mistress took me into grandpa’s room and said, “Father,
this is Meow the Second.” Although grandpa was too ill to say much
to me, still I knew from the kind look on his face, and from his gentle
touch, that he was a friend of cats. “I’m very glad to see Meow, but
don’t hurt Watch’s feelings,” was all he was able to say, and pretty
soon mistress took me out.
Watch was a big shepherd dog that had lived on the farm for many
years. He wanted to be in grandpa’s room all the time. When he was
admitted he would lie down alongside the bed, and look straight at
grandpa all the while, till he was ordered out, and then he just went
as far as the door and lay down. There he would stay all day, and
unless his food was brought to him, he would go hungry.
Watch never did me any harm, but he wasn’t as friendly with me as
Dennis. He barked at all strangers, but never hurt anybody.
In front of the house was a very large maple tree under which
mistress stretched her hammock, and there in the cool shade we
spent many happy days; but Guy spent most of his time at the
neighbors helping the boys do their chores.
 V
SOME EXPERIENCES ON THE FARM

I had never seen any chickens until I visited grandpa’s farm, so one
day shortly after our arrival I went into the chicken-coop to make
them a visit.
A hen was sitting on a lot of eggs, and I had no intention of
disturbing her. But when she saw me she began a terrible cackling,
and flew away. Then I went up and sat on the eggs myself; but in a
few minutes the big rooster came to the coop, followed by nearly all
the other roosters and the hens, and such a cackling and crowing I
never heard in all my life. It seemed as if every one of the seventy
fowl in the barnyard would cry themselves hoarse. I concluded that I
was not a welcome visitor, so I left the nest and jumped out of the
window. I thought it best not to go through the door with all those
cacklers in wait for me.
The stable was empty, because Elsa the cow, and Kate the horse,
were out in the pasture. Elsa had large brown eyes and a beautiful
brown coat with a white star on her forehead, and she was very
gentle. Guy generally rubbed her back and sides and shooed off the
flies while grandma milked her, and we cats were always on hand at
milking time. Just as soon as grandma had finished she would
always pour some milk into our saucer, and it tasted just about like
our city milkman’s cream. (Once when Guy came home from school
he filled my saucer out of the cream pail, and that’s how I know what
city cream tastes like.)
Elsa had once been the queen of a large milk-herd, and she seemed
very proud of her old Swiss cow-bell which always hung at her neck,
suspended from a leather strap. Whenever it was time to bring her in
from the pasture, grandma or Guy would take a little bucket
containing salt, and stand up on the fence and show it to Elsa. Then
as soon as she saw it she would come right along; and, of course,
she was always given some salt as soon as she reached the
barnyard.
It was Kate that brought us out from the steamboat landing on that
dreadfully hot summer day. There was no real hard work for her to
do on the farm. But she had served grandpa so well during the years
of her strength, that, although no longer needed, still she was
allowed to remain and enjoy the rest and quiet. All the neighbors
seemed to know and respect her, and whenever any of them passed
by, she would go up to the fence and whinney, in response to their
greeting. Elsa was her constant companion in the pasture, and their
lot was indeed a happy one.
Another animal on the farm was Billy, the pig, though I am sorry to
say his place was so uninviting I did not care to visit him very often.
But really, poor Billy was not to blame; his “pen” was so small, and
there was no way for him to get out when he wanted to; how could
he keep it clean and tidy?
Why he was singled out to be treated as a prisoner, when all the
other animals on the farm were free to roam at will, was more than I
could understand, unless it was because grandpa was too ill to
attend to him. As I used to see Billy stare through the cracks in the
walls of the narrow gloomy prison that shut him away from the great,
beautiful world, and as I listened to his ceaseless grunting, I could
not help but pity him. Although I did not understand his language, I
felt sure that he must be complaining of his unhappy lot.
“How I wish that somebody would write a book for Billy,” said
mistress to Guy one day, as they were passing his place, “so that
people would be made to think how unjustly he is being treated.”
“Yes,” said Guy, “it’s just as easy to have pigs in clover as in a pen.
Have I never told you about the excellent arrangement Uncle Ellison
has on his farm?”
“No, you did not; what is it?” said mistress, eagerly.
“Well,” said Guy, “his pig yard is quite a good sized enclosure,
extending at the rear into a little grove where the pigs can lie in the
cool shade when it is hot. Adjoining this is a similar enclosure, and
every year the pigs are changed from one field to the other, and the
one last used by the pigs is plowed up and sown to clover. In this
way they have a clean, wholesome and comfortable place all the
time.”
“This explains why Uncle Ellison gets a higher price for his hogs than
any farmer around there,” said mistress. “If grandpa were well, I
would tell him about it; but perhaps you could make Billy just a little
happier by spading up the ground inside of his pen.”
“Yes,” said Guy; “and perhaps the neighbor’s boys will help me.”
So the next day the boys locked Billy into the corn-crib while they
turned the ground in his pen with spades and freshened it; the trough
was scalded and scrubbed, and left in the sun to dry. When Billy was
led back to his pen, he grunted his thankfulness to his friends the
best he knew how. As for me, I concluded to put Uncle Ellison’s plan
into my story; for who knows but some of the boys who read it may
be farmers some day, and will want to try it?
While we were at grandpa’s one of his neighbors’ hogs was taken
sick, and the man brought six little white pigs up to grandpa’s
because he wished to separate them from their mother, for fear they
too might catch the disease. I never saw anything prettier than those
little pigs, and they were just as clean as so many kittens. The man
put them into an old pen not far from Billy’s, and there they squealed
and grunted to their hearts’ content, and stuck their noses through
every little crack in the pen. I noticed that some of the boards were
loose so that they could wiggle them up and down, and each one
tried to make them wiggle a little more than the others had done
before him. One day at dinner-time, when I was in my usual place on
the window-sill, suddenly I saw a white streak shooting through the
orchard and out into the road, and just then Guy jumped up and said:
“There go the pigs.”
They had succeeded in loosening one of the boards and making
their escape, and the last I saw of them they were running down the
road to their mother as fast as they could, leaving a big cloud of dust
behind them.
This set me to thinking on pigs in general, and I concluded that they
are by nature intelligent and clean, and like the rest of us, all they
want is a chance.