“ 
~-* 

This. is the home of my Grandmother—one hundred years ago. She and 
her four sons and five daughters, of which my father was the oldest, constitut- 
ed the most religious family I have ever known. I have seen her go upon her 
knees and talk to the Lord in simple child-like faith, saying, ‘““Now Lord, you 
gave me these nine children and you will have to help me take care of them, I 
can’t do it without you.” And not for a moment did she ever doubt. My father 
and mother built their home close by and raised eight children to maturity on 
20 acres of stump land. I have seen my mother put the sugar bowl on the 
table for three months in succession without a grain ot sugar in it. And we 
never knew we were poor. We learned to live on hard work and I love it yet. 
And only four minutes from this cabin I am sitting in my office out here on 
the farm—telling you about my Iris fields. 
Fifty thousand people come each year to ponder upon these lovely acres. 
These fields of beauty are grown for you. They are kept and embellished for 
your happiness. They would not be half so beautiful, nor I half so happy, if 
you did not come to see us. 
In this modest folder there is not one variety that I have not grown and 
tested for its health and beauty before offering it to you. And I do not see 
how I can spend the rest of my time to better advantage, than to send these 
lovely creations out all over the broad expanse of our land in the certainty 
that you too will catch the spirit I am trying to tell you about. 
WILL B. OTWELL 
Please preserve this folder. You are sure to need it before the year is over. 
Our fields have been greatly reduced in acreage but increased in finer varieties. 
