The Abandoned Farmers His Humorous Account of a Retreat from the City to the Farm — Edition Insights

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Cobb, Irvin S. (Irvin Shrewsbury), 1876-1944 Project Gutenberg 2013 Not confirmed
Humorous stories; Farms -- Recreational use -- United States -- Fiction Readers of public-domain and historical texts
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Edition facts

Words 49,385
Reading time 215 min
Text sections 6

The catalog record for The Abandoned Farmers His Humorous Account of a Retreat from the City to the Farm — Edition Insights provides practical reading context through 49,385 words, 3 hr 35 min estimated reading time, and 6 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 22.9 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Humorous stories,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Irvin S. Cobb's humorous account of city dwellers who buy an abandoned farm, told with self-deprecating wit and a series of escalating misadventures in rural life.
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Editorial Edition Score 4.7/5

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  • Description quality20 pts
  • Title & short description10 pts
  • Source metadata20 pts
  • Text length15 pts
  • Chapters / structure15 pts
  • EPUB file integrity20 pts

Total of 100 points, scaled to a 2.5-5.0 range. Editions with an empty description or a missing EPUB file are not scored.

Edition quality

Read the Text

CHAPTER I. WHICH REALLY IS A PREFACE IN DISGUISE

It is the inclination of the average reader to skip prefaces. For this I do not in the least blame him. Skipping the preface is one of my favorite literary pursuits. To catch me napping a preface must creep up quietly and take me, as it were, unawares.

But in this case sundry prefatory remarks became necessary. It was essential that they should be inserted into this volume in order that certain things might be made plain. The questions were: How and where? After giving the matter considerable thought I decided to slip them in right here, included, as they are, with the body of the text and further disguised by masquerading themselves under a chapter heading, with a view in mind of hoodwinking you into pursuing the course of what briefly I have to say touching on the circumstances attending the production of the main contents. Let me explain:

Chapter II, coming immediately after this one, was written first of all; written as an independent contribution to American letters. At the time of writing it I had no thought that out of it, subsequently, would grow material for additional and supplementary offerings upon the same general theme and inter-related themes. It had a basis of verity, as all things in this life properly should have, but I shall not attempt to deny that largely it deals with what more or less is figurative and fanciful. The incident of the finding of the missing will in the ruins of the old mill is a pure figment of the imagination; so, too, the passage relating to the search for the lost heir (Page 55) and the startling outcome of that search.

Three years later, actual events in the meantime having sufficiently justified the taking of such steps, I prepared the matter which here is presented in Chapters III, IV and V, inclusive. Intervened then a break of approximately two years more, when the tale was completed substantially in its present form. In all of these latter installments I adhered closely to facts, merely adding here and there sprinklings of fancy, like dashes of paprika on a stew, in order to give, as I fondly hoped, spice to my recital.

One of the prime desires now, in consolidating the entire narrative within these covers, is to round out, from inception to finish, the record of our strange adventures in connection with our quest for an abandoned farm and on our becoming abandoned farmers, trusting that others, following our examples, may perhaps profit in some small degree by our mistakes as here set forth and perhaps ultimately when their dreams have come true, too, share in that proud joy of possession which is ours. Another object, largely altruistic in its nature, is to afford opportunity for the reader, by comparison of the chronological sub-divisions into which the story falls, to decide whether with the passage of time, my style of writing shows a tendency toward improvement or an increasing and enhanced faultiness. Those who feel inclined to write me upon the subject are notified that the author is most sensible in this regard, being ever ready to welcome criticism, provided only the criticism be favorable in tone. Finally there is herewith confessed a third motive, namely, an ambition that a considerable number of persons may see their way clear to buy this book.

Quite aside from my chief aim as a writer, which is from time to time to enrich our native literature, I admit to sharing with nearly all writers and with practically all publishers a possibly selfish but not altogether unnatural craving. When I have prepared the material for a volume I desire that the volume may sell, which means royalties, which means cash in hand. The man who labors for art's sake alone nearly always labors for art's sake alone; at least usually he appears to get very little else out of his toil while he is alive. After his death posterity may enshrine him, but posterity, as some one has aptly said, butters no parsnips. I may state that I am almost passionately fond of my parsnips, well-buttered. My publisher is also one of our leading parsnip-lovers. These facts should be borne in mind by prospective purchasers of the book.

I believe that is about all I would care to say in the introductory phase. With these few remarks, therefore, the attention of the reader respectfully is directed to Chapter II and points beyond.

CHAPTER II. THE START OF A DREAM

Irvin S. Cobb opens The Abandoned Farmers with a preface disguised as a chapter, warning readers that prefaces are usually skipped but insisting this one is necessary. He explains that the book grew from a single independent piece into a multi-part narrative, with later chapters adhering closely to facts while earlier ones mix fancy with truth. The tone is wry and conversational, as Cobb admits to inventing a missing will and a lost heir for dramatic effect. He frames the whole as a cautionary tale for others who might dream of abandoning the city for a farm.

A Preface in Disguise and the Confession of Invention

Cobb begins by acknowledging the reader's temptation to skip prefaces, a habit he shares. But he insists that here, prefatory remarks are essential to explain the book's construction. He reveals that Chapter II was written first as a standalone piece, and only later did actual events justify adding Chapters III through V. The incident of the missing will in the old mill is a pure figment, as is the search for the lost heir. Cobb is disarmingly honest about his method: he adds sprinklings of fancy, like dashes of paprika on a stew, to spice up the factual record. This self-aware framing sets the stage for a narrative that openly blends truth and invention.

The Battle Over Sleeping Porches and Architectural Whims

A long excerpt details the narrator's resistance to sleeping porches, a fad promoted by friends. He mocks the idea of sleeping on a wind-swept porch in winter, comparing it to the polar bear section at the Bronx Zoo. One friend, a Bostonian Harvard graduate, is described as having a slightly superior manner—like an egg laid twice and both times successfully. Under such influence, the narrator and his wife incorporate sleeping porches, vistas, sun parlors, and a hundred other things into their house plan. They knock out walls, then stick them back in; lift the roof for air, lower it for style; tile and untile floors; and reject paneled wainscoting for rough-cast plaster, then abolish that for a smooth finish. The result would be a house suitable for national conventions. Only one point remains adamant, though it is not specified in the excerpt.

The Narrator's Self-Deprecating Voice and Urban-Rural Tensions

Cobb's narrator presents himself as a reluctant convert to rural fads, pushed by stronger natures. He admits to carrying consideration for others to such a point that in the city, he positioned his bed to breathe up the chimney. The humor lies in his exaggerated compliance and the absurdity of the decisions made. The contrast between city and country is not yet fully drawn in the excerpts, but the narrator's urban habits—like valuing a cozy bedroom with steam heat and a short cut to the pantry—clash with the rustic ideals of his friends. The tone is consistently self-mocking, with the narrator casting himself as a victim of majority rule, albeit with private reservations. This voice promises a series of misadventures as the city dweller attempts to become an abandoned farmer.

Readers should approach The Abandoned Farmers as a layered narrative where Cobb openly admits to mixing fact and fancy. The humor derives from the narrator's willingness to be the butt of his own jokes, and the architectural battles over sleeping porches hint at larger conflicts between urban sensibilities and rural aspirations. Pay attention to how Cobb signals which parts are invented and which are drawn from experience—the line is part of the comedy.

There’s something tender about watching city folks tumble into mud puddles, laughing at themselves the way Cobb does. It made me think of another kind of retreat—into the past, messy and stirring, in The Manchester Rebels of the Fatal '45 — Reading Companion. Both books share that ache for a life we imagine, then must learn to live, crookedly, as best we can.

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