loans from the banker; the interest on these two made two more rents.
Farmers paid rent to the railroad for the transit of their goods. The
auctioneer, whether he sold cattle and sheep, or whether he had a depôt
for horses, was a new man whose profits were derived from the farmers.
There were few or no auctioneers or horse depositories when he began
business; now the auctioneer was everywhere, and every country town of any
consequence had its establishment for the reception and sale of horses.
Farmers sunk enough capital in steam-ploughs and machinery to stock a
small farm on the old system, and the interest on this sunk capital
represented another rent. It was the same with the artificial manure
merchant and with the seedsman. Farmers used to grow their own seed, or,
at most, bought from the corn dealers or a neighbour if by chance they
were out. Now the seedsman was an important person, and a grand shop might
be found, often several shops, in every market town, the owners of which
shops must likewise live upon the farmer. Here were eight or nine people
to pay rent to instead of one.

No wonder farming nowadays was not profitable. No wonder farmers could not
put their sons into farms. Let any one look round their own neighbourhood
and count up how many farmers had managed to do that. Why, they were
hardly to be found. Farmers' sons had to go into the towns to get a
livelihood now. Farming was too expensive a business on the modern
system--it was a luxury for a rich man, who could afford to pay eight or
nine landlords at once. The way he had got on was by paying one landlord
only. Old Hodson always finished his lecture by thrusting both hands into
his breeches pockets, and whispering to you confidentially that it was not
the least use for a man to go into farming now unless he had got ten
thousand pounds.

It was through the genius of this man that his three sons were doing so