234 



THE MONTHLY BULLETIN. 



besides, I had to see that all the hay was burned, not saved for somebody 

 else 1<> use, or smuggled back into the car. So it looked as if I was 

 elected to help the hired man destroy the hay. so we did it, and it took 

 all day. It also put a thorough respect for the state quarantine law 

 into the minds of the railroad employees, and located a lot of muscles 

 for me that I had forgotten all about. The car was "spotted" on a 

 siding near the city incinerator, and the rest was just plain work of the 

 strong back variety. 



Four days later a car of race horses from Montana, via Utah, arrived 

 here. The man in the car bewailed his hard luck, for he had intended 

 to load up with hay at Milford, Utah, and he got in there on Sunday 

 afternoon, and everything was closed. When I told him what happened 



Fig, 60. — Volunteer alfalfa growing along the right of way of the Oregon 

 Short Line Railway. Stands of alfalfa such as this can be found in any 

 section of southern California. Railroad rights of way should he 

 inspected every season for possible infestations of the alfalfa weevil. 

 ( After Webster. ) 



to half a car of hay from Utah tour days before, he became more cheer- 

 ful. When I went on to explain the matter, he volunteered to telegraph 

 his partner (which he did) not to get his hay in Utah. 



On the nineteenth of November, 1916, a car of horses arrived from 

 Richfield, Utah. On arrival the "personal conductor" of this car 

 informed me that he had cleaned out the car in the yard at San Ber- 

 nardino, and offered the further information that he had "throwed 

 stuff out all along the road." Of course these facts were promptly 

 reported to the proper authorities, who doubtless cleaned up as far as 

 possible after this careless "caretaker." But what about the "stuff 

 throwed out all along the road"? Truly there is a reason for the 

 annual railroad right of way inspection lest P. posticus be already 

 among us unaware. 



