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TnirMeWiWTffir • r ... t * ' t When the Colorado Burst Its Banks and Flooded the Imperial Valley gf California -vm f •- 8 ' *4 ' <*&£ £ ri"'* EDN AH miKEN RICKARD "GOES IN," AND AS HE GOES HE BEGINS TO APPRECIATE THE DIFFICULTIES OF HIS POSITION. ^ Synopsis.--K. C. Rickard. an engineer of the Overland Pacific railroad, Is called to the office of President Marshall In Tuscon. Ariz. While waiting IUcknrd reads a report on the ravages of the Colorado river, despite the efforts of Thomas Hardin, head of the Desert Reclamation company. Hardin had been a student tinder Rickard in an eastern college and had married Gerty Holmes, with whom Rickard had fancied he was in love. Marshall tells Rickard the Overland Pacific must step in to save the Imperial valley and wishes to send Rickard to take charge. Rickard decline* because he foresees embarrassment in supplanting Hardin, but is won over. CHAPTER III. ; * --2-- The Slewing of Aridity. When Rickerd left the main line at Imperial Junction the next afternoon his eyes followed the train he was deserting rather than the one that was to carry him to his new labors. He felt again the thrill of detachment that Invariably preceded his entrance into a new country. With the pulling up of the porter s green-carpeted stool, the slamming of the train gates, the curtain fell on the Tucson set scene. The long line of cars was pushing * off with its linen-covered Pullmans and diners, steaming down grade toward the Sink, the depression which had been primeval sea, and then desert, and was now sea again. Old Beach, rechristened Imperial Junction • for railroad convenience, was Itself lower than thei ancient sea line where once the gulf had reached. Rickard knew he could find shells at that des- . ert station should he look for them. He picked up his bag that the porter had thrown on the ground and faced the rung-down curtain. Jts painted scene was a yellow station house broiling under a desert ran; a large water tank beyond, and , in the distance the inevitable cardt boiitl mountains, like property scene shifts, flat and thin in their unreal hues of burnished pink and purple. A V dusty accommodation train was backing and switching, picking up the si empty refrigerator cars to carry into the valley for the early melon growers. Already the valley had asserted Its ! Industrial importance; the late rampage of the Colorado had made tt : spectacular. Those who would pay "Do you mind this window" being open?" "I'd mind If It were not. It's always bad at the Junction. When we get into the cultivated country yoti will see what the valley will be like when It is all planted. The wind is not bad when It blows over grain or alfalfa. It is the desert dust that nags one." coughed again. "Going in?" "Rickard said he was going in. "Are you going to settle in the val-. ley?" The inquisitor was a man of about fifty, Rickard decided, with a desert tan of apparent health. His face was clear cut and intelligent. "I don't know." "Just looking the country oVerl" "You might call It that." "Go slow," admonished his companion. "Don't let yourself be carried away. It Js a wonderful country. But go slow. It's the ones who expect to make millions the first year that hecome the worst knockers. Go slow, I always tell them. Go slow." "It's not a good time to bdy, then?" "Not so good as It was ten years ago! But land is cheaper than it was a year back. In some districts you can buy a good farm for a ticket back home, the farmers are so discouraged. Cold feet." The slang sounded oddly soinehow. The man's voice had the cultivated precision of the purist. "Cold feet. The river's chilled them. The valley's losing faith in the company." "What company?" inquired Rickard again. "There's but one company to the valley, the one that brought them here, the D. R. They don't call the railroad the company. They won't reclittle attention to the opening of a ognlze that problem! It's had hard new agricultural district in the heart of a dreaded desert opened their eays to the vagary of the river which had sportively made of a part of that desert an inland sea. Scientists were rti8bing their speculations into print; would the sea dwindle by evaporation, as it had done before? Or would the overflow maintain the paradoxical sea? The flood signs were apparent. There cracks had split the desert sand; here* water fissures had menaced the track; and to the south a fringe of young willows hid the path ef the Colorado's debouch. The men crowding the platform wore the motley of the new country. In Tucson the uniform of the male citizens, with the exception of those reckless ones who found Inevitably that lotus. Is a liquid, was the wilted pretense of a gentle civilization; despondent ducks and khakis- and limp collars. Imperial Junction marked the downfall of the collar. The rest of the composite costume was irregular, badly laundered and torn, faded and sunburned; the clothes of the desert soldier. Rickard saw buttonless shirts, faded overalls, phabby hats-- the sombrero of Mexico. The faces under the broad-brimmed hats made a luck from the first, the O. R. At the very start the wrong man got hold of It. Sather, the first promoter, was a faker--a pretty thorouglf faker. The company reorganized, but it's been in bad odor with the public ever since." IUckard's eyes left the deep cuts in the Lund made by the ravening waters and looked at his companion. ~ "I thought Estrada was the original promoter?" .he Inquired. "Estrada's a recent eomer--oh, you mean the general. He started the ball rolling; that was all. Bad health, following the Bliss complication, tied his hands." The man in the seat ahead was listening. His head was leonine, his body shriveled. Rickard could see on the neck the" ancient burns that had spared the magnificent head.. The rest of the man had been shriveled and twisted into terrible deformity. Rickard found himself puzzling over the incident with Its accompanying miracle. There w^as not a scar on the powerful face. "Estrada's business methods were their not different from Bather's and Hardin's!" It was a deep, rich organ. "Oh, you can't class Hardin with Sather," protested IUckard's companion. "Sather used Hardin. Hardin's money's he's after. His whole heart Is in this reclamation scheme." "Hardin's a false alarm," growled the owner of the mapaive head: "He mak^s promises. He never keeps them." The o1d?r man's smile was tolerant, "Bartou," he indicated, "is the president of the water companies. And If mtr I leaping impression upon him of youth | honesty cannot be questioned. It's not and eagerness. He noted a significant average of intelligence and alertness. This was not the indolent group of men Vrhlch makes a pretense of occupation whenever a train comes in! "Going in?" asked a voice at his ear. A pair of faded eyes set in a youngold face, whether early withered or well preserved he had not time to determine, was staring at him. He assured his Interlocutor that he was going In. His mood Isolated the phrase; its significance vastly different from "going on." "Buying?" , * - "I think not." flit-Is a good time40^y," >B|ckarfcj suspected a real estate agent. "For land, is low--rock bottom prices on account of the uneasiness about the river. People are afraid. They want to see the company redefem some of lt^ promises before they come in; and the* company isn't in much of a hurry." Rickard asked what company he. referred to. The jGUug-oJkl face wiiii thefadeo. eyes looked at him in surprise. "The D. JR. company, Desert " Reclamation, which brought us all here." ^Scamps?" The newcomer's survey of the long line of naked mountains add lean lands that formed the neck of the valley gave a snub of casual- - Bess to the question. ^ **No. FoolsThe answer was as swift as a,; bullet. "Though some people think them worse than that. I don't go so far; I'm willing to say they've tried. I'll say that much. But they haven't the know-how." The window seats, Rickard could aee, were filled before the cate halted by the experienced ones whoVud not waited for the train^ to b^nSide up. 1b the scramble he sjMed s( vacant window on the sunny side ana made pt it. A stranger dropped into the (Mat beside him. { Every window In the car was open. Bach red velveted, dusty -seat was filled. A strong desert wind was blowing sand Into, .tbefr. ism'Bv, .^coloring the seats and covering the floor. The engineer turned to his compantan. who was coughing. He Was "Going In." you want to hear about a rogue and a scoundrel ask. the water companies their opinion ef Hardia." "w"5h, what sort of a hole has he got us into?" demanded the other with heat. <' . ;• "Hardin's in a hole himself. J'No one seems to remember that be /6ruclfl£d himself to save the valley. A^a great respect for Thomas Har- "Yes?" returned RIpkard, whose liking had been captured by the speaker. The impression of distinction sharpened. The stranger wore a laundered pongee silk shirt, open at the neck but SjSitJtiito - restricted by a brow situ si*>; and It was trimly belted. There were but two neckties In the entire car, and they occupied, Rickard observed, the same seat * , « "The beginning of the canal system." * r Rickard looked out upon a Bat, onetoned obuntry, marked off in rectangles by plows and scrapers. Farther south these rectangles were edged by young willows. He fancied he could see, even at that distance, the gleam of water. It was the passing of the desert A' few miles back he had seen the depert In Its primitive nakedness, which not even cactus relieved! He was passing over the land which man and horses were; preparing for water. And he could see the land where water was. That was the way Riverside looked when I first saw it" commented the other man who wore a tie. "Come oat tin the rear platform. We cab see better." Rickard followed to the back of the dust-swept, stifling cat. The glare on the platform was intense. Be stood watching the newly made checkerboard of a country slip past him. Receding were the two lines of gleaming steel rails which connected and separated him from the world outside. He was "going in." Not in Mexico even had he such a feeling of ultimate remoteness. The mountains, converging perspective^ toward the throat of the valley, looked elusive and unreal in their gauze draperies of rose and violet. The tender hour of day was clothing them with mystery, softening their sharp outlines. They curtained the world beyond. Rickard felt the suspense of the next act. It was a torpid imagination, he thought, which would not quicken over this conquest of the desert. East of the tract men and teams were preparing the newly furrowed ground for the seed. The curved land knives were breaking up the rich mold into ridges of soft soil as uncohesive and feathery as pulverized^chocolate. It was the dark color of the chocolate of commerce, this sht which had been pilfered from the states through which the vagrant river wandered. The smell of the upturned earth, sweetly damp, struck against his nostrils. Rickard indulged a minute of whimsical fancy; this was California territory over which his train was passing, but the soil, that dark earth those blades were crumbling, was it not the tribute of other states, of despoiling Wyoming, of ravishing Colorado and Arizona? To the west new squares were being leveled and outlined. Shrubby rectangles were being cleared of their cre- 6sote bush and tough mesquite. Compared with ofher countries, the preparation for planting was the simplest. Horses Were dragging over the ground a raip»ad rail bent Into a V angle, which pulled the bushes by the roots and dragged them out of the, way. Beyond. farther west, could be seen the untouched desert. The surface for many miles was cracked by water lines, broken and baked into irregular sand cakes; the mark of sand which has been imprisoned by water and branded by swift heat .Close by men were putting in with care the seed that was to quicken the river silt They were passing a square where the green tips of the grain were piercing the ground. Now they were abreast of a field- of matured alfalfa oVer which the wind raced gratefully. Desert and grain field; 'death and life! The panorama embraced the whole cycle. They went back to their seats. After a few minutes the other leaned over his shoulder, his hand waving toward the passing mountains. "Those are the Superstition mountains you can see over yonder. An unusually apt name." "Yes?" "Why is it good, you mean? That pile of dark rock stands as a monument to aa effete superstition. It Is the gravestone for a gigantic mistake. Why, it was only the grossest ignorance that gave to the desert the label of 'bad lands.' The desert Is a condition, not a fact. Here you see the passing of the condition, the burial of • he superstition. Are yon Interested in irrigation?" Rickard was not glvjn to explain <^he degree of interest his profession Involved, for the stranger drew a painful breath, and went on. "Of course you are, if .you are a western man. You are, I think?" The engineer said he was, by choice, "Irrigation is the creed of the West, Gold brought people to this country; water, scientifically applted, will keep them here. Look at Riverside. And we are at the primer stage only. We are way behind the ancients in information on that subject. I learned at school, so did you, that some of the most glorious civilizations flourished in spite of the desert which surrounded them. That was only half a* truth. They were great because of it! Why (lid the Incas choose the desert When their strength gave them the choice of the continent of South America? Why did the Aztecs settle In the desert when they might eustl/" have preempted the watered regions? Then there are the Carthaginians, the Toltecs, the Moors. And one never forgets Egypt!" "For protection," Rickard gave the slighted question an Interested recognition. "Was that not what we were taught at school ? The forest held foes, 'animal' and humun. Those nations grew to their strength, and power In the desert try >lrtufc of its Isolation." "Superstition!" retorted the man with the tie. "We are babes at the breast measured by the wisdom of the men who Kett5«H|jDuiniiscoa, tr compared with the Tolteca, or fbose an cleat tribes who settled in northern ' •1 „ . "• v:s<? * '• - • • '• ' ; . ' ; * • 2*:. ' iA India. They recognized the valuiS of aridity. They knew Its threefold worth." "An Inherent value?" demanded the college-bred man* turning from the window. „ "An inherent value," declared the exponent of aridity. "Will you tell me just what you mean?" "Not In one session! Look yonder. That's Brawley. When I came through here ten years ago I could have had my pick of this land at 25 cents an acre. They were working at this scheme then--on paper. I was not alive to the possibilities th&i; I had not yet lived In Utah!" The train was slowing up by a brand new yellow-painted station. There were several dusty automobiles waiting by the track, a few faded surreys and the Inevitable country hotel bus. The platform was swarming with alert, vigorous faces, distinctly of the American type. The man In the seat beside him asked Rickard if he observed the general average of Intelligence In' the faces of the crowd below. Rickard acknowledged that he had been struck by that, not only here; but at Imperial Junction, tvhere he had waited for the train. "There is a club in the valley, lately started, a university club which admits as members those who have' had at least two years of college training. The list numbers three hundred already. The first meeting was held last week in an empty new store in Imperial. If It had not been for the setting we might have been at Ann Arbor or Palo Alto. The costumes were a little motley, but the talk sounded like home. The dust blowing In through the car doors brought on another fit of strangling. Rickard turned again to the window, to the active scene which denied the presence of desert beyond. "The doctors say it will have to be the desert always for me." The stranger tapped his chest significantly. "But it Is exile no longer--not In an Irrigated country. For the reason of irrigation! It Is the progressive man, the man with ideas, or the man who is willing to take them, who comes Into this desert country. . If he has not had education it is forced upon him. I saw it worked out In Utah.' I was there several years. Irrigation means cooperation. That is, to me, the chief value of aridity." The wind, though still blowing through the car and ruffling the train dust, was carrying less of grit and sand. To/flie nostrils of Rickard and his new/acquaintance it brought the pleasing suggestion of grassy Meadows, M willow-lined streams and fragrunrt fields. "Ifi Is the accepted idea that this vallejt is attracting a superior class £j»f inek because of Its temperance stand. Iti Is the other way round. The valley _st^tod for temperance because ,ef~tlie sort of men who had settled here, the men of the irrigation type " were he again suhjorteC the caprice of rain as a housewife woui*I be were she compelled to, wait for ral j to fill her washtub. Th^e is no Irregularity or caprice about Irrigation." ^ "Wonder how the old fellcir picked It all up?" mused, Rickard with dlarespect. Aloud he said, ' fdu were speaking of the v&lue of the soil?" "Look at the earth those plows are turning over. See how rich and friable It Is, how It crumbles? You can dig for hundreds of feet and still find that sort of soil, eight hundred feet down! It Is disintegrated rock and leaf mold brought In here in the making of a delta. Heavy rainfalls are rare here, though we have had them, in spite of popular opinion. Were we to have frequent rains the chemical properties which rain farmers must buy to enrich their worn-out soils would be leached out, drained from the soil. I can't make this comprehensive, but !'•« a monograph on desert soil. If yop are Interested I'll send It to you." "I should like It--Immensely." assented the engineer, still amused. "It explains the choice of the Aztecs, of the Incas, of Carthaginians, the Moors," observed the stranger. "They chose the desert not in spite of the soli but because of it. I doubt If they were awake to the social advantages of the system, but It was their cooperative brotherhood that helped, them to their glory. We are centuries behind them. I'm getting out here-- Imperial. If you come up to Imperial look me up. Brandon's my name. I've no card these days!" "There are several things I want to hear from you," answered Rickard, following brown necktie and pointed beard to the platform. "I'll be sure to look you up. Mine's Rickard." The breeze which was now entering the car windows had blown over the clover-leafed fields. Its message was sweet and fresh. Rickard could see the canals leading off like silver threads to the homes and farms of the future; "the socialists' dream come true I" Willows of two or three years' growth outlined the banks. Here and there a tent or a ramada set up a brave defiance against the hard conditions of the land it "was invading. Rickard leaned out of the window and looked back up the valley which was dominated by'the range now wrapping around itself gauzy, iridescent draperies. „ "The monument to an effete superstition I" he repeated.. /'PChat wasn't a bad ldetu" But U» dirky whipped tip Ma rtpUd horMg, IUckard's eyes followed the gfttopi of green. The friendly voice from above told him that that was the office of the Desert Reclamation company. His next survey was more personal. He •aw himself entering the play as the representative of a company that was distrusted If not indeed actively hated by the valley folk. It amused him that his entrance was so quiet as to be surreptitious. It would have been quieter had Marshall had his way. But ha himself bad stipulated that Hardin should he told of his coming. He had seen the telegram before It left the Tucson office. He might be assuming an unfamiliar role in this complicated drama of river and desert, but it was not to be as an eavesdropper. " The heavy bus' was plowing slowly through the dust of the street. Rickard was given ample time to note the limitations of the new town. They passed two brick stores of ganeral merchandise, lemons and woolen goods, stockings and crackers disporting fraternally In their windows. A board sign swinging from the overhanging porch of the most pretentious building announced the post office. From a small adobe hung a brass plate advising the stranger of tha Bank of Calexico. The 'dobe pressed close to another two-storied structure of the desert type. The upper floor, supported by posts, eitended over th* / Vv . CHAPTERfV.n • , ~. ,, . n • The Desert Hotel* , j • - fjfe left the dusty tar with relief when the twin towns were called. He had expected to see a Mexican town, or at least a Mexican Influence, as the towns hugged the border, but it was as vividly American as was Imperial or Brawley. There was the yellow- painted station of the Overland Pacific lines, tW water tank, the eager American crowd. Railroad sheds an- The engineer^' ea7 cHticizer-irrT^rN^1. the of ' the ,K ro»dtio ™n type." He began to suspect that Backed toward the station was the inhe had picked up a crank. "The desert offers a man special advantages, social, Industrial and agricultural. It is no accident that you find a certain sort of man here." I suppose you mean that the struggle necessary to* develop such a country, under such stern conditions, develops of necessity strong men?" evolved Rickard. "Oh, yes, I believe that, too." Oh, more than that. It Is not so' much the struggle as the necessity for co-operation. The mutual dependence Is one of the blessings of aridity." One of the blessings, of aridity!" echoed his listener. "You are a philosopher." He had not yet touched the other's thought at the spring. "You might as well call me a Socialist because I praise Irrigation in that it stands for the small farm unit," retorted the valley man. "That Is one of its flats; the small unit. It is the small farm-that pays. That fact brings many advantages. What Is the charm of Riverside? It qomes to me always like the unreal dream of the socialist come true. It Is a city of farms, of small farms, where a man may make his living off his ten acres of oranges or lemons; and with all the comforts and conveniences of a city within reach, his neighbors not ten miles off! A farmer in Riverside or In any Irrigated community does not have to postpone living for himself or bis family until he can sell the farm! He can go to church, can walk there; the trolley car which passes his doof takes him to a public library dr the opera house. His children ride to school. His wife does not need to be a drudge. The bread wagon and the steam laundry wagon stop' at her door." Rickard observed* that perhaps he did not know anything about irrigation after all! He had not thought of It evltable hotel bus of the country town, is painted sign iianglng over Its side advertising the/ Desert hotel. "Before he reached th^f step the vehicle was i^vded. alt, gen'ldlmen, I'm coming back for aV^econd ioad," called the darky who was holding the reins. "If you wait for the second trip you won't get a room," suggested a friendly voice from the seat above. .Rickard threw his bag to the grinning negro and swung onto the crowded steps. Leaving the railroad sheds he observed a building which he assumed was the hotel. It looked promising, attractive with its wide encircling veranda and the patch of. green which distance gave the dignity of a lawn. "Brandon's My Name.1* sldfewilk. Netted wire screened away the desert mosquito and gave the overhanging gallery the grotesque appearance of a huge fencing mask. From the street could be seen rows of beds, as in hospital wards. Calexico, it waa seen, slept out of doors. ^ "Desert hotel," bawled tha darky, reining in his placid teanl. '*-•*- "Yes, sah, I'll look out for your bag. Got your room? The hotel's mighty sure to be full. Not many women jit down this a-way.. . . . All the nan mostly lives right heah at the hotel." Rickard made a dive from a swirl of dust Into the hotel. The long line he anticipated at the desk was not ther* He stopped to take in a valley innova' tlon. One end of the long counter ha« been converted Into a soda-water bar. The high swivel stools in front of the white marbled stand, with its towering silver fixtures, were crowded with dustparched occupants of the bus. A whlt»« coated youth was pouring colored sirups Into tall glasses; there was a clinking of ice; a sizzling of siphons. "That's a new one on me," grinned Rickard, turning toward the desk one ro6m left, "With bathr* 'Wit- How will Hardin receive the man who comes to supplant him and how will Hardin's wife receive the man who once had told her of his love and then, torn by / doubts, had run away from her expectant eyes? These are ques. tions that worry Rickard, but he is not left long in doubt Get the answer, with Rickard, in the next installment. Western Canada Offers _ ^ - tunity to the Ambition* ^ • •' -- Fertile Mrnd at Moderate Coat, WBfll . fecial and Other Advantagea That S • ' . Mean So Much, Will ^ Be Taken Up., v * < Vx., JThe deal re to have a piece «* of one's own Is a natural Instinct M» the heart of every property developed man and wpman. In earlier years, on account of the great areas of land available In the United States, no great difficulty was experienced by any ambitious settler who wished to become his own landholder, but the rapid Increase In population, combined with the corresponding rise In the price of land, has completely changed this condition. Land which a generation ago might be had for homesteadlng, now commands prices ranging to $100 an acre and over. At such prices It la quite hopeless for the city man with limited capital, to attempt to, buy • farm of his own. To pay for It becomes a lifelong task, and the prbbablllty is that he will never do mere than* meet the Interest charges. t H he Is serious In his desires to aecti* a farm home he must look to countries where there Is still , abundAnt fertile land available at moderate cfj^t, and where these lands are to be purchased on terms which make It feasible for the settler with small capital to become a farm owner as the result of a few years' labor. Hewlll also want land' In .a country the practices of the people are similar to those to which he has been a©- , customed; a country with the same language, same religion, same general habits of living, with laws, currency, weights and measures, etc., based on the same principles as those with which he Is familiar. He wants a country where he can buy land from $20 to $40 an acre which will produce as big or bigger crops as those he has been accustomed to from lands at $100 an acre. He wants this land where Hoclal conditions will be attractive to himself and family, and where he can look forward with confidence to being In a few years Independent and well started on the road to financial success. All these conditions he will find In western Canada. The provinces Qf Alberta, ' Saskatchewan, and Manitoba provide the one' and 6nly answer to the land-hungry. The land is there; It Is the kind qf land he wants; the conditions are as nearly ideal as Is possible, and the prices and terms are such that the man of moderate capital has an opportunity not available to him elsewhere, Land values are going to Increase, hut it will largely depend on how -well the soil can be used, and-the modern farmer Is using It each year to better advantage. But those who are on the ground and come closest to the heart of fhe farming sections are convinced that no material decrease In value is in sight Indeed, they are almost unanimous in believing that we shall see a strong real estate market for fertile land, with prices maintained; and as d^ velopment and further equipments are added the prices on the open market may. be expected to show a further Increase- as the years go on--up to. the limit of income, plus what men- *re willing to pay. to possess an attraeflve home. Someone once said: "Never sell where a complacent proprietor stood short on the United States. You will waiting to announc# IMt there was bdt lose every time." And this applies to . . * . itfhiAosaea ttotrhhon falrroe 1In clined to believe that the future of fari|) values is in doabt The American farmer Is going forward, not backward,- -and the same may he said of the Canadian fanner. --Advertisement. HAD TO SATISFY AMBITION (TO BE CONTINUED.) SAW HUMOp OF THE SITUATION Comm*qdi^' Officer, Dreaded aa a Martinet, Proved He Was Not Altogether a "Bear." There. Is a certain major-general In the A. E. F. who is a great stickler for discipline and military forms. Most generals are that, but this one Is a regular martinet. The soldier who fails to salute and to "snap It out" when the general Is around Is In for an extended spell of that Intensive form of culinary labor kndwn as "kitchen police," or for something worse. One afternoon the general was driving along when his car met a soldier on foot. The enlisted man stared hard at the vehicle and Its august passengci', !)"t made no move, to extend the required courtesy. The general was Indignant. He ordered his driver to stop and hailed the plodding private In his best military voice. t "What do. jou mean by falling to salute mel^li* roared. before In Its sociological relation biik.^i beg your pardon, sir, but I dldn t merely as it touched his profession. "Not going into soil values, for that Is a long story," began the older man. "irrigation Is the answer .which science gives to the agriculturist who is Impatient of haphazard methods. Irrigation Is not a compromise, as so many believe who know nothing about it It Is a distinct advantage over tha oldfashioned methods. "I am one of those who' aiwaya thought It a compromise," admitted the engineer.- "Better call rain a compromise," retorted the lrrigationist. "The man who Irrigates glvee water to the tree which needs It; rain nourishes one tree and drowns out another. Irrigation Is an Insurance policy against drought, a guarantee against floods. The farmer who has once operated an irrigated farm would be aa impatient know you were a general," apologised the soldier, standing at attention. "You didn't know I was a general, eh? Well, didn't you see those two stars on my car? Don't you know what two stars mean?" "•Jfes, *lr, I know what they mean. They m*an that you have t^o sons in the army," said the "buck." The general told this story WfDSfeii that evening at the staff mess and now his aids and the other staff offl cers know that he isn't such a "bear" aa they had thought him.--Exchange. Had a Reason.' "What makes you so sleepy the office?" "It's my sense of duty, boss." "Huh?" d "I lie awake too much ;•! thinking about my w«rk." nliciH Contest In Crimes. Statistics proving that the states of the West and middle West are veritable hotbeds of burglary, as compared with eastern states, may be found In the widespread reports of robberies committed, through Interchange of crime tabulations for the past y&ar. Illinois stands far and above all other states In the reports of 1,156 burglaries, selected at random from more than ten times that number of robberies committed which were covered or partly covered J>y Insurance. Missouri Is second on the list with • 75; Pennsylvania third, with 72; Ohio fourth, with 66. Judging from western methods employed by burglars who have made big hauls In and around New York In the last few weeks, burglary Insurance underwriters believe there has been a strong influx of western crooks to that part of the country, and that New York city ia developing the biggest crime wave tn its history. Cuce Bent Backs by Suggestion. Suggestion plays a great part In thaL cure of physical Ills of soldiers. Ac cording to Lieut. Col. A. F. Hurst, all men suffering from bent backs can be cured by persuasion and re-education. " The patient is told that his posture is a bad habit formed when his back was painful. He ,18 asked to stand with his back to a vail, with his heels touching it tils shoulders are then gently pushed back till they touch the wall. In most Instances the soldier finds that In a few minutes he can stand erect without support, and after walking a few times in the sauie posture hiq cure is complete. •Tote" Philosophy. Always tarry- a little philosophy about with you. A gilded searchlight Im of little account to the big ante fciuclt in • he muU Military Training Meant. DioeomfMfc But Vlrish" Had Hie Rsaton fo#^ . Seeing It Through* I?}#r3ftiody called him £'lxt&P and everybody liked him We knew no other name for hjm, and, Indeed, no name could have su|t^d him better. He had been In America only a short time, or, to use his own words, "just two years over, missis," and his brogue was as fresh as It wis the^da'y he landed. Ireland never Sent to our shores a truer son, I fancy.4ni>r a more devoted one. It is easy to'magine how the colleens at home most miss him, for |here was fun when "Irish" cam* around, and when hla "Irish eyee were smiling," "there was sunshine even-where." One rainy morning I came'upon him, sitting In the big mess hall, looking tired, sleepy and wet. "Why, Irish.** I said, "what has happened to you?** Looking up with his ever-ready smile, he answered: "Oh, mls«, this la a hard life I'm leadlo'. They've had me out in the rain on guard duty. I'm telling you, missis, that I think I'd quit If It were not for my great ambition." HSs blue eyes twinkled and the merriest smile played over his face. "What Is this ambition?". I asked. "Why, missis. It's to pin i shamrock on every Hun over there, and thafa^U that kecpi "?e goinV'--Exchaug*"'-. S r Dramatic Difference j J '•>< , "•SifesL* "Mamma, what Is the difference between a ham actor and a bum actor?" The careful mother gave the child's question a moment's profound consld* eratlon before replying. "Well, my son," she said slowly, s® that the youthful mind would get the full comprehension and be able to discriminate thoroughly through all future time, "a bum actor would Indignantly resent being called a ham ac tor, but a ham actor would not care at all how much he was called a bum actor If he could still draw his «<b1- aifijr 4*: i -fe UmHtd Mind. vv Wife--Oh, doctor, Benjamin seems to be wandering In his mind. Doctor (who knows Benjamln)-~ Don't titrable about that--ha tut fi far.--Medical Pickwick.