INTRODUCTION, 15 



the boy called his father, ' i Come here ; see what my 

 alfalfa has done!" And the sire, amazed and be- 

 wildered at first, stood there scratching his old gray 

 head and smiling an amused, puzzled smile. Finally 

 he turned and said: "Son, do you suppose that I 

 want to grow a crop that won't grow till you put a 

 barrel over it ? " The lad laughed and said no more, 

 but went back to his mountains >and the alfalfa 

 fields, remembering the one stalk of alfalfa that had 

 succeeded and saying, "I know that alfalfa can be 

 grown in Ohio. If one stalk will grow as that one 

 grew, why can't a man grow a thousand? If he can 

 grow a thousand, why can't he grow a million, why 

 can't he cover his farm with alfalfa?" 



The ranch was not just the same to the boy when 

 he came back to it, not just the same because he had 

 ever before him the image of the sweetheart left be- 

 hind. Yet it was a happy place, and he went tumul- 

 tuously into the work again, strong as a young giant, 

 eager to do, finding no day long enough for him. 

 Now was time of happy dreams, and after a time 

 the dreams began to materialize as he mixed mud 

 and made "adobes," or "dobies," as the boys called 

 them, and hauled down logs from far up the canyon, 

 for She was coming and a house must be made ready 

 for her. 



There were wonderful letters coming, too, and 

 often the boy would be seen on Sundays sitting far 

 up on the rocky hillside, away from the confusion and 

 talk of the cowboys, reading the last letter that She 

 had written, or writing one in reply to it. The work 



