168 TIIK IRRIGATION AGE. 



the land should also own the water to irrigate the same and if this 

 article will serve in any manner to further carry out that idea I will 

 be amply repaid. 



THE CALF PATH. 



One day through the primeval wood 



A calf walked home, as good calves should, 



But made a trail all bent askew, 



A. crooked trail, as all calves do. 



Since then two hundred years have ffed, 



And, I infer, the calf is dead, 



But still he left behind his trail, 



And thereby hangs a mortal tale. 



The trail was taken up next day 



By a lone dog that passed that way, 



And then a wise bellwether sheep 



Pursued the trail o'er vale and steep 



And drew the flock behind him, too, 



As good bellwethers always do, 



And from that day, o'er hill and glade, 



Through those old woods a path was made, 



And many men wound in and out 



And dodged and turned and bent about 



And uttered words of righteous wrath 



Because 'twas such a crooked path. 



But still they followed do not laugh 



The first migration of that calf 



And through the winding wood way stalked 



Because he wabbled when he walked. 



This forest path became a lane 



That bent and turned and turned again. 



This crooked lane became a road 



Where many a poor horae, with his load. 



Toiled on beneath the b irning sun 



And traveled some three miles in one. 



And thus a century and a half 



They trod the footsteps of that calf. 



The years passed on in swiftness fleet 



The road became a village street, 



And this, before men were aware, 



A city's crowded thoroughfare, 



And soon the central street was this 



Of a renowned metropolis, 



And men two centuries and a half 



Trod in the footsteps of that calf. 



Each day a hundred thousand rout 



Followed the zigzag calf about, 



And o'er his crooked journev went 



The traffic of a continent. 



A hundred thousand men were led 



By one calf near three centuries dead. 



Fact and Fiction. 



