TWENTY-NINTH FRUIT-GROWERS' CONVENTION. 



181 



phere of culture and refinement, so that the first glimpse may be 

 inviting; and let us cherish the flower garden as a means to this end, 

 so that every passer-by may receive a waft of perfume and an inspira- 

 tion to create a garden for himself, and so that every inmate of the 

 home may feel that this one spot is sacred, and that wherever he may 

 roam the flowers are still blooming there for him and nodding a glad 

 welcome. 



VICE-PRESIDENT McIXTOSH. Members of the Convention, I 

 desire at this time to temporarily at least vacate the chair of this Con- 

 vention, for reasons of a purely personal character. I will ask Senator 

 Johnston, of Sacramento, to occupy the chair during the remaining 

 part of the program this afternoon. Senator Johnston is a parliamen- 

 tarian of State reputation, and will no doubt satisfy you all. 



MR. JOHNSTON. Members of the Convention, it is my pleasure to 

 wait upon you this afternoon, as I have been called upon to do so. The 

 next paper will be 



THE COUNTRY CEMETERY. 



By MRS. MAY S. McXX^LTY, of Fresxo. 



The subject-matter under the title of ''The Country Cemetery" may 

 be subdivided under three heads: " Present Conditions," "Remedies," 

 and " Permanent Improvements." 



I will venture the conjecture that most of us here are Eastern born, 

 and among our recollections of that East are the tree-shaded, hedge- 

 trimmed, lawny slopes that hold the bodies of our dead. The Easterner, 

 as a rule, cares for his cemeteries. In many, a fund provides for per- 

 petual care, so that may we wander ever so far from the spot where 

 some loved member of the family sleeps we know that the finger of 

 neglect will never leave its unholy touch upon trees, or grass, or flowers. 

 The walks and drives remain well ordered, the stones do not topple or 

 lean, shrubs are trimmed, the blossoming borders of the drives are 

 replanted each spring, and every portion of ground not allotted to 

 graves is appropriately arranged. 



Six years ago, a dear friend of mine drove to our Fresno cemetery on 

 that saddest of all errands, the choice of a lot wherein to lay the body 

 of her dearest and best. The avenue leading to the cemetery passed 

 the dump piles of the city. When she entered the inclosure the deep 

 sand choked the wheels of the carriage, and lot after lot was filled with 

 weeds taller than her head. 



Fresno was then twenty-five years old; the cemetery had been 

 crowded from its first location and had been moved two and a half 

 miles west of the city. The contrast between an Eastern town and one 

 of like size and business enterprise here, is obvious. Our West is a 

 land of workers. Our interests naturally at the beginning lie in the 



