DRY-FARMING CONGRESS, WICHITA, 1914 



171 



lying off the railroads, is a series of fertile valleys and plains unsurpassed 

 in fertility in the world. 



When you take into consideration the many and varied products as 

 shown in the farm products Exposition here with the Dry-Farming Con- 

 gress—and by the way, Arizona carried off the silver trophy as you know, 

 for the best exhibit in competition with fourteen states and Canada, as also 

 thirty-two other prizes for products, you must know that the "Land of 

 Living Water," Arizona, is going some. 



When the good farmers in this section of the country are toasting their 

 shins, we are picking our oranges and grapefruit, and when the first 

 breaking up comes in the spring from under the fallen snows, out there 

 we are gathering canteloupes for the Eastern market. Our navel oranges 

 are first on the New York market, and bring $6 a box, the choicest that 

 are raised in the world today. Aside from the fruits named, there are 

 dates, rigs, and olives; and at the same time we are producing the hardier 

 products. 



Tempered by the influence of the snow-capped mountains, and the 

 cooling pines, though warm enough to produce tropical fruits, the climate 

 of Arizona is very healthful and invigorating. There are nearly 360 sunny 

 days in the year. 



While attending the Transmississippi Commercial Congress in Saint 

 Paul a number of years ago, a short time was allowed each delegate who 

 wished to speak of his own state. I was telling of the wonderful products 

 of the Gila Valley, the southeastern portion of the state, and particularly 

 of a wonderful sweet potato which weighed 36% pounds, while its mate in 

 the same hill weighed 19 pounds. A big, brawny Missourian at the other 

 end of the room got up, yawned, stretched, looked over to me, and walked 

 out; of course I could not produce the goods. 



Talk abut sunflowers, you Kansans are not in it. We raised a domes- 

 tic sunflower in our yard so large we called it the "Big 4." It measured 

 14 feet high, was four inches at the base, and its blossom 14 inches in 

 diameter, and it grew in my fore-yard. 



The manager of an implement concern in the North with whom I was 

 dealing came to explore this wonderful land of ours. He wanted first of all 

 to see the man who raised the wonderful sweet potato. The old Georgian 

 understood the business before he emigrated. In answer to the question, 

 the Southerner looked up innocently and said, "Well, that portion which 

 we got' out of the ground weighed 36% pounds." "Drive on," our 

 visitor said. After inspecting conditions on the south side of the river, 

 we called on a farmer on the shady side from whom the Hubbard squash 

 was named, I presume. Mr. Hubbard said, in answer to what could be 

 done in the sunny South, that on this land there, he raised 50 bushels of 

 wheat to the acre and on the same land the same season he raised 50 

 bushels of corn to the acre. At the same time squash grew so thickly we 

 could hardly get around through the patch, and the same year his wife 

 had twins! "Drive on," said the merchant. 



