Farmers^ Week in Agricultural College. 107 



Only a telegraph operator, and through, the long dreary hours of 

 the night he directs the snorting, puffing, engine that hauls untold mil- 

 lions across the continent, and who would be in constant danger of dis- 

 aster and death without his constant vigil. He who surrounded by 

 water and in the very' face of death apprized the world of a Galveston 

 horror, and with almost super-human strength and courage, sits by his 

 instrument and summons help to save a cargo of human lives that face 

 a watery grave on a foundered ship. 



Only a seamstress, and as she toils from day to day to clothe the 

 world, with a compensation of a few pennies carrying to an humble 

 home each night the meager provisions her earnings will purchase to 

 appease the hunger of her orphan children, she deserves the plaudits 

 of the enlightened world. 



Only a farmer boy, and although his early life may be one of 

 obscurity, he is preparing himself for future eminence, and as he tills 

 the soil and plants the seed and reaps the harvest, he is happy in the 

 consciousness of being one of an army that feeds the world and to him 

 all honor is due, and as he breathes the pure air from Heaven and 

 communes with nature and realizes his partnership with the God of 

 the Universe, he developes into a manhood in whose house I would 

 rather be a doorkeeper than to dwell among kings. 



Only a Dairyman, and this opens to me a vision, and in it I see 

 a million sturdy, intelligent, patient men feeding and milking and 

 delivering to a world yet wrapt in slumber, the product from the faith- 

 ful animals that are their special care. I see a million active boys as 

 they follow the winding path twice a day in the summer and drive the 

 cows from a distant pasture, and in the cold frosty mornings I see them 

 skip to the feed lot and make ''Old Red" get up quick so they can 

 warm their bare feet that are almost frozen. I see the historic milk- 

 maid with the milk bucket on her arm as she wends her way towards 

 the cow lot humming a tune the like of which no operatic singer ever 

 produced. I see the lonely widow woman in an obscure country strug- 

 gling to maintain a home and keep together a family of children, and 

 whose only hope is a small dairy herd and in her are all the graces of 

 a true woman centered. On her brow is a crown of glory and her robe 

 of righteousness is as spotless as the driven snow. To her is due the 

 homage of a queen, and for these I come here tonight as their represen- 

 tative to ask your consideration and demand your recognition of those 

 whose business is of such vital importance to America and the per- 

 petuity of which means so much to Missouri. 



While the lightning of wealth flashes across the Dairyman's firm- 

 ament, and the thunder of oratory shakes the very walls of congress, 



