26 ANNUAL REPORT 



had committed no crime, were sentenced for life. AA/e accepted our 

 sentence. We entered upon our several occupations. We lawyers en- 

 gaged in our profession. We waited long weary days for clients. 

 The flies did not walk into our chamber. But you, more fortunate, 

 sought nature in her still retreats. She was coy, and long withheld 

 her gracious gifts. But by your perseveraace, by your skill and 

 patience, you have demonstrated that Nature is no less kind in the 

 forty-fifth parallel of latitude than in the thirtieth. 



But, gentlemen, in welcoming you to this city, what have we to 

 give in return, in comparison with what you give us? I may say al- 

 most absolutely nothing. True, we can show you half a dozen 

 theatres running day and night — especially at night. We have 

 churches on almost every street, with every phase of theology, and 

 some with no theology at all [laughter]; half a dozen courts con- 

 stantly running to dispense justice. Lectures on every science and 

 subject under the sun; and musical concerts by artists who think 

 themselves the equals of those of European fame. But all this is that 

 for which you do not seek. And had we known in time you were to 

 honor us with your presence here to-day we would have erected an ice 

 palace for your delectation, the magnificence of which, as compared 

 with that in our sister citj^ should have been as the splendor of the 

 sun to the feeble light of the moon. [Laughter.] 



Gentlemen, F am detaining you, you are men of business, we of 

 theory. Indeed, it does not seem quite appropriate that a professional 

 man should welcome those so entirely practical as yourselves to our 

 city. But I beg you to believe that I am such, is rather my misfor- 

 tune than my fault. If you will pardon me a word I will tell you how 

 it happened. I was brought up on a farm, and was blessed, as I sup- 

 pose all of us were, with poor but honest parents, My earliest in- 

 fantile aspirations were to become a practical bonanza farmer, like 

 oar friend, J. J. Hill, of St. Paul, or a famous horticulturist or Amber 

 cane grower. In pursuit of this ever present idea, at the age of ten or 

 eleven, I discovered a scythe hanging in my father's barn, and was 

 ambitious to demonstrate my ability as a mower. The grass was 

 tempting in the door-yard, and I proceeded to lay it low, together 

 with quite a number of choice shrubs and flowers which had recently 

 been set near the grass plat. At this juncture my paternal ancestor 

 appeared on the scene. His look was ominous, and he said, "Isaac, did 

 you do that?" Like the immortal Washington, I could not tell a lie, 

 especially as I had been caught in the very act. [Laughter.] I was 

 told to go and put up the scythe. Then did the old Adam rise in my 



