The Ten-Dollar Bill. A Poem

A DAY IN THE ENGLISH LAKELAND \ 373

most earnestly that to return without viewing the environs from — — one of his gasoline launches fare, one "bob" would be rank folly. The restful prospect looks entirely welcome, and boating delightful, so we heed his warning and clamber aboard actions ;

not to be regretted, for Derwentwater appears to us the most fascinating and loveliest lake we have seen on the trip. Its breadth, its arrangement of green islets, the well-tim- bered banks, and, more than all, its background of lofty hills, over which, on this sunny afternoon, a filmy blue haze lingers, make of every man a "si- lent poet." Leaning back upon the chair cushions, we rehearse the incidents of the day. Of DERWENTWATER the heart of "Wordsworth- shire" we have received only a passing glimpse, but, be that view ever so transient, it has awakened in us a desire for more careful scrutiny of what we — can understand now more fully than before "Lake" poetry and prose. And we have spent a day with nature at her best. If it be true that "man is a part of all that he has seen," then we need search no further for the source of a deal of the power of Wordsworth, who saw intensely and loved most deeply this impressive country, his chosen home. Surely, there is great strength in the hillsfor him who seeks it. Just a concluding thought. It has often been said that a

thorough love of travel destroys, or at least interferes, with a love of home, but we believe that, however much one from the West may be fascinated by the antiquity and beauty of European displays, yet the highest compliment he is able to pay to a foreign scene appears to be :"It is very much like home !" And if the Lake district of England has its school of poets and other noble and renowned men, we feel that the merited distinction is sure to come to those unselfish and great souls whose lives and efforts have been and are being directed, in those beautiful vales of our own inspiring Rocky Mountains, toward the improvement and benefit of the race. WIGAN, ENGLAND

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A Glimpse ofjthe Salt Works BY ANNIE KAY HARDY

Even as one is deceived over the extent of the Great Salt Lake, until he measures its dimensions by sailing over its lovely, treacherous surface, or wandering around its desolate shores, so our party expressed surprise at the extent and importance of the "Salt Ponds" and Mills where from a liquid state by evaporation the fine, pure salt of the Inland Crystal Salt Co. is prepared for the market. Leaving the Saltair train at a point necessary to reach our destination, we walked single file along the narrow, raised path. Could we help thinking of the One who walked beside the "Tideless Sea" of Scripture lands and drew his simple, forceful comparisons from nature's activities If the salt hath lost its savor, wherewithal shall the earth be salted? The disturbed cry of a flock of killdeers rang out shrilly as we followed our guide, the superintendent of the works, to the place where we took the "observation" flat car. The purpose of partitioning off the water, ( which is pumped from the main body of the lake,) into great basins or troughs, so that it may become more and more concentrated, was explained. A kind of salt floor, or bottom is formed to protect the product from contamination of soil as the mineral settles. Then it is collected into large heaps in the basins themselves to drain or

purify. The salt is then loaded into the train, which has an engine run by oil so as to keep the forming crystals from cinders or dirt that otherwise would reach it. If, in spite of these precautions, any impurity tinges the product, ever so slightly, it is used for the cattle on the ranges. Following this important native product, we watched the unloading from the cars the processes of crushing and refining in ;

the mill by skilfully manipulated machinery, until the many-sized sacks received it according to its grade of fineness or purpose. Then the closing of the sacks was accomplished the smaller ones ;

by machine, the large ones by hand. The novice can only wonder at the intelligence and skill that have contributed to perfect machinery to render marketable this most necessary commodity. Then, we saw the electrical transformer with its tiny fuse wire

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A GLIMPSE OF THE SALT WORKS

capable of carrying 45,000 volts. This supplies power and light for Saltair Pavilion as well as the salt works. A tremendous pressure moulds and squeezes into shape the great 50-pound blocks of salt for cattle. These look like polished marble. The finished product finds a market in Washington, Idaho. Montana, New Mexico, Colorado and Utah. Operations in this industry were begun in 1878, in a primitive way. Now, with modern mechanical appliances, between forty and fifty men and a few women are employed the year round. They occupy small, rustic cottages near the mill, and there is nearby a little school house. The mill and houses are protected against fire by extinguishing apparatus of their own. The inexhaustible quantity of salt hidden in that beautiful water offers unlimited possibilities for an extended market of the future. Utah's resources are second to none in our glorious Union. After being weighed, kodaked, and surprised into a delicious and welcome luncheon, we parted from our genial entertainer to go home by way of Saltair. Then

A billowy cloud in a perfect sky, A sweep of wings as the gulls flew by, A sparkle and glint on the briny wave, Were some of the joys a sweet day gave.

SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH

The Ten-Dollar Bill* The Confessions of a U. S. Greenback

I am crumpled and creased with the fingers of age I'm the friend of the banker, the thief and the sage Society leaders have tested my worth Of a millionaire's pile I myself am the birth. I've befriended the needy, the good and the ill I am known far and wide— I, the Ten-Dollar Bill

Inclosed in a letter, I've traveled for miles To be met with a wealthy philanthropist's smiles, To be cast in a vault overladen with gold,

Copyright, 1913, by Walter P. Emmett.

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376 IMPROVEMENT ERA

To change hands with another for property sold, To be hidden from sight in a bar-tender's till I, the curse of the drunkard: a Ten-Dollar Bill!

At the risk of a life, on the turf I've been laid, Where pockets are emptied, and fortunes are made To be squandered and lost and as quickly regained. For liquors and poison, my worth has been drained. I have broken up homes, I've caused humans to kill

And be sentenced to death — the Ten-Dollar I, Bill

My notable value has goaded the thief, Brought tears of repentance and murmurs of grief, Caused sons to rejoice and fond mothers to sigh, Caused fathers to question and juniors to lie Caused burglars to seek me with powder and drill I'm the father of crime — the Ten-Dollar I, Bill

The miser has placed me away in his hoard In garrets and cellars for years I've been stored To be cherished in secret and fondled with greed. Upon me two gray eyes can constantly feed. Were the miser in heaven he'd gloat o'er me still I'm the mother of greed — the Ten-Dollar I, Bill

I'm bartered for lives in pawn-brokers' halls, ;" I fill with expression the gilded "three-balls For trinkets and trash I am traded and loaned Where thieves are exalted and bankers dethroned. The prison and poor-house I constantly fill I'm the source of regret — the Ten-Dollar I, Bill

But I do not live for the evil, alone For sins I've contracted, with good I'll atone. — A boon and a blessing tho' tainted with strife, Where Hunger assailed I've saved many a life. When used by sweet Charity's hon'rable will I'm a true "friend-in-need" — the Ten-Dollar I, Bill