SIXTH DISTRICT AGRICULTURAL ASSOCIATION. I'll 



Here Ceres has scattered her Largess of grain 



In measureless plenty o'er valley and plain. 



We have wheat fields that stretch to the horizon's rim 



And fade in the Leagues of the distances dim. 



The wide San Fernando begirt with her chain 

 And stately Laguna, the queen of the plain, 

 And corn that the corn-fed old dweller in " Pike,'' 

 In all his long lifetime saw never the like! 



Yea ! all tiling have we in this " garden" of ours 

 Where perfume of fruit blends with perfume of flowers; 

 Where zephyrs sigh suit, from the tropics far blown; 

 And man reaps the harvests from meadows unsown; 

 Where "Fall" is a fiction and " Winter" a dream, 

 And man may sit down by the life-giving stream 

 Where the sun gazes down from the infinite blue, 

 Warmth-giving, unclouded, the long cycles through ! 



Yet all these grand gifts of our land of the west 

 Though priceless the treasures, we prize not the best. 

 We can point you with pride, like the matron of Home, 

 To our matrons, the jewels of hearth and of home! 

 The finest of babies, the sweetest of girls 

 We show you, behold them ! lo, these are our pearls! 



