THE CALL OF THE WEST 



407 



grandeur of its mountains, lifting their 

 heads into regions of perpetual snow ; 

 in forests whose age antedates the birth 

 of the Savior ; in canyons whose pic- 

 turesque carving consumed centuries 

 upon centuries of time ; in landscapes and 

 scenery of such beauty and color as were 

 never shown on canvas ; in deserts where 

 life is still elemental and primitive, and 

 where amid the crumbling ruins of de- 

 parted races strange people dwell in an 

 atmosphere of dreams and enchantment, 

 and with mythology and legends as in- 

 teresting as those of ancient Greece ; in 

 all that Nature has ever done to enthrall 

 the senses, to inspire the tongue or pen, 

 the West suffers not by comparison with 

 any part of the Old World. We show 

 but faint regard for all the wonders Na- 

 ture has lavished on our country when 

 so few of us ever seek to enjoy them. A 

 few of the millions spent annually by 

 Americans in foreign lands, if expended 

 at home, would make easy of access and 

 enjoyment for thousands of our people 

 many of the splendid attractions of our 

 own country. 



The man from the West sojourning 

 for a time in the East, if he gives free 

 expression to the pride he rightly feels 

 in his native heath, is likely to be re- 

 garded as an apostle of discontent by 

 those who listen. Lucky for him if he 

 does not achieve the reputation for verac- 

 ity given to an old fellow in the middle 

 West. 



The oldest inhabitant and the man 

 who remembered the weather for fifty 

 years back were seated about the stove 

 in the corner grocery one winter's night 

 discussing the veracity of old Si Perkins. 

 Uncle Bill Simpkins strolled in and took 

 his place near the box of soda-crackers. 



"Say, Uncle Bill," they asked him, 

 "would you call Si Perkins a liar?" 



"Wall," said Uncle Bill, thoughtfully, 

 as he spat in the stove, "I don't know as 

 I'd go so fur as to call him a liar exactly, 

 leastways not just plain every-day liar, 

 but I do know this much: when feedin' 

 time comes, in order to git any response 

 from his hawgs, he has to git somebody 

 else to call 'em fer him." 



It is with no wish to encourage unrest 

 and dissatisfaction with your present in- 

 vironment that I am here tonight. I 

 come rather as a messenger from a far- 

 off and little-known part of our country, 

 bringing a story of progress and achieve- 

 ment. It is a story in part of kin folks 

 of ours whose hearts are fired with the 

 same courage, patriotism, and fortitude 

 which enabled our ancestors to wrest a 

 commonwealth from the New England 

 wilderness. They are imbued with high 

 ideals and noble purposes, and by their 

 achievements are establishing us more 

 firmly in our place among the greatest 

 nations of the earth. 



THE) MIRACLE OF IRRIGATION 



The miracle of irrigation, which is per- 

 formed each year in the arid West, is a 

 most impressive and wonderful mani- 

 festation of Nature's beneficence to man. 



Throughout the winter season the 

 clouds of heaven are swept hither and 

 thither about the uplifted mountains, 

 whose heads tower a mile above the 

 plain. On their frowning fronts and 

 lofty summits the snows fall heavily, 

 covering deeply every peak and promon- 

 tory and filling every chasm ; then the 

 warm rays of spring and summer sun 

 fall softly upon the white snow-banks 

 and tiny streams, and roaring cataracts 

 burst forth and journey downward to fill 

 to overflowing numerous lakes, each a 

 sapphire gem in the heart of the moun- 

 tains. 



The heavy clouds and towering peaks, 

 the falling snow and gentle sunshine, the 

 rush and whirl of descending waters, 

 these are recurring evidences of nature's 

 maternal contributions to the dweller in 

 the desert. 



It remains but for man's industry and 

 intelligence to utilize these generous do- 

 nations. The engineer finds no field more 

 attractive than this for his energies. He 

 curbs the stream with masonry dams and 

 lifts the water into huge canals. Water 

 and land long divorced are wedded, and 

 wavering fields of grain and orchards 

 prolific beyond comparison replace the 

 wastes of sand and sage-brush. 



