Much Cry and Little Wool

MUCH CRY AND LITTLE WOOL By H. L. Johnston Among all men to be pitied is he who after some successful ven- ture allows his head to swell and considers himself a superior being. As soon as a man reaches such a condition, becomes self-satisfied, the brake has been applied to his ambition, he makes no further pro- gress in the world, because he is too much occupied in the pastime of self admiration. He is to be compared to an automobile laboring to top a steep hill with all the brakes set. No chance for him to utilize the power of the engine — his mind. He is wasting his time bragging about his accomplishments when he could be doing some- thing really worth while by kicking off the fetter of self-conceit and getting out of the rut of self-contemplation. He is wasting his power, just the same as the engine laboring up the steep hill with brakes set, for the people he gets to listen to him go away undeceived. They know that he is handing them the "puff." It is a case of much cry and little wool. A man, now in the public eye, William McFee, writer of virile stories of the sea and little known places of the world, thanks his fate that he met with rebuffs at the hands of various editors when he first thought he could write stories. For year after year he stormed the iron doors of their editorial sanctums until he had been tendered enough rejection slips to stuff a good-sized mattress. Had he met with success in those early days, he might have developed what he calls "Piffling Precocity." He might have felt satisfied with himself and settled down to turning out work of "Piffling Precocity." Being self-satisfied, the brake would have held him back and kept him from developing into a writer of stories that live. Sand, and the ability to know what was the matter with his work, keeping everlastinly at it, won for him in the end. He is still progressing and broadening out and is now lecturing to people who are glad to hear him talk, for in his words they hear no off color notes of conceit. Let a man laboring in humility do good deeds to the very utmost of his ability, and in time his work will be like a great light upon the highest hill where it can never be hidden from the world. He, who in his conceit, tries to atract the attention of the world to come and praise the work he has done, and is satisfied with himself, soon finds that the light he has set going is shut off from the world by the rank growth of weeds called conceit. His light is extinguished by the breath of ridicule and the open sneers of the people he most desires to impress with his greatness. To quote Horace in a reverse manner: "All his swans are geese;" his mountains turn to mole hills and the aas has leaked out of his toy balloon. He is to be likened unto the fia

MUCH CRY AND LITTLE WOOL 955 tree that withered. The good Book tells us that when Jesus and the twelve hungered and looked for food, they saw a fig tree that differed from the rest as it was in full leaf, though the season for fruit had not arrived. Now a fig tree puts forth its leaves after the fruit has formed, and this tree, although the other trees in the orchard were bare and gave no promise of fruit for some time, waved its limbs as if in boastful assertion of superiority. But when Jesus put forth his hand to pluck the fruit he found that the tree was a showy fruitless barren thing, destitute even of last year's fruit. Then the Mastei said to the tree: "Let no fruit grow on thee henceforth forever." So it is with the showy conceited human being who waves his arms and calls the world's attention to his self-styled feats of wonder. He is blinded so much by his own importance that he withers, himself as the fig tree was withered by the hand of Christ and is "henceforth and forever" as useless to himself and to humanity as the very tree that stood out in such a boastful way before the Master and his beloved Twelve. Conceit is the stumbling block in the pathway of Progress. It makes a man or woman the laughing-stock of all their friends. It is the mill-stone around the neck of a struggling human in the deep water of opportunity. Remember the words of the great teacher: "The lofty looks of man shall be humbled, and the haughtiness of men shall be bowed down." (Isaiah 2:11). "Be not wise in your own conceit." (Rom. 12:16.) Tobar, Nev. How Wonderful Are Thy Works, Oh Lord! Night Sounds Do you think the forest silent, in the Summer's warm, dark night? List the hoot of the owl, the timber wolf's howl, Ten thousand beetles in flight. The fox bark, the cry of bobcat — the frogs their voices raise; And chirps the cricket, while from the thicket The thrush trills forth sweet lays. Forest Life As dawn steals over the mountain, the mocking bird's full song Swells sweet on the air of the glade so fair To wake the woodland throng. His mate in her nest in the oak tree, near the tiny, winding creek, Protects from harm, and keeps so warm Their little birdlings six. The dell is a picture of beauty, among tall conifers there, With sylvan bowers, green moss and flowers, And grass waving everywhere.

956 IMPROVEMENT ERA The deer came down from the hillside to drink at the crystal stream, Where bright hued trout flash in and out The mossy stones between. High in the blue, the eagle watches the life below, As the sun's bright ray dries the dew away, Where the gentians and violets grow. The chipmunk and frisky squirrel, on the hollow pine trees limb, Scold the saucy jay, the wood-bird gray And the parrot all red and green. The Warning The sun ascends to its zenith; the song bird's voice is still; The turkey goes to yon thick grove; Wolf and deer seek the hill. Oppressive the air and heavy, as clouds spread dark on high, — A fear doth fall, on great and small — Some dread event it nigh. The bee ceased his buzzing; seeks the eagle yon crag so high, — Bird and brute alike are mute, — All save the frog's shrill cry. Dark grow the clouds and darker; old bruin sniffs the air; The cunning fox hides in .the rocks; The panther seeks his lair. The Storm A roar comes with the south wind, the sunlight turns to night, A blinding flash, swift raindrops dash, The Storm King rides in might. The tempest breaks in fury! A hurricane doth blow! Then fast, on all, great hailstones fall, Causing ■ death and woe. Great trees are rent asunder; destruction fills the vale; Dark waters roar, deluges pour, In drifts heaps high the hail. The young of partridge and turkey, of night hawk, sparrow and lark, Insects and mice, deprived of life, Float away on the torrent dark. After the Storm The storm passes on, its rumbling is dying fast away; The clouds fly north, the sun bursts forth And warms earth with its ray. The mock bird shakes the rain drops, to his mate in the oak tree flies; Dead in the nest! Her faithful breast Their fledgelings keeps alive. Ragged the forest and broken! Of leaves the shrubbery bare! In a tangled mass lie flowers and grass, Deep gutters washed here and there. Where once smiled a picture of beauty reigns desolation today; Wise nature, leal, the wounds will heal, As years pass on their way. Colonia Juarez, Chih. Mexico. J. H. MARTINEAU.

Scenes in Cathedral Gulch, Nevada CATHEDRAL GULCH: A WESTERN WONDER SPOT By Thomas L. Martin, Professor of Agronomy, Brigham Young University Since President Harding, Dr. Henry Cowles, of the Brigham Young University Alpine Summer School, and many other noted persons have proclaimed the beauties of Bryce Canyon, and Southern Utah in general, these awe-inspiring natural wonders are becoming world renowned. Tourists from far and near are making special efforts to feast their eyes upon the color, and try to fathom the mysteries of nature, found in this region. Some of them are con- tented to stop their cars, get out for a few moments to glance around, and then rush onward to another locality marked in their guide books. In others, the deeper emotions are aroused at the sights, and they wish to see, and to feel, and to enjoy the region to the fullest. To the latter class of nature lovers I would recommend a four- hour trip from the Southern Utah wonders to Cathedral Gulch in the eastern part of Nevada. Like most scenes which make the soul thrill, this Gulch, which is located about sixteen miles west of Caliente near the little town of Panaca, cannot easily be described in words. A master-painting must be seen to be appreciated. To those who have seen the great cathedrals of Europe, with their myriads of spires, all symbolically pointing to the heavens. Cathedral Gulch may best be described by likening it to all the cathedrals

958 IMPROVEMENT ERA Scenes in Cathedral Gulch. Nevada in the world, large and small, huddled together in a little gulch. But, instead of the spires being of a single color like those of a cathedral, the hand of nature has cleverly painted part of these natural ones in red and yellow hues, leaving just enough of them grey or a beautiful white to bring out forcefully the beauties of the colored ones. A closer view of these cathedral-like structures shows them to be made up of myriads of huge pencils of earthy materials some of which tower fully eigthy feet into the air. Just as in a dense city one finds scattered buildings on the out- skirts, which are separated from the mass city, one finds, on the out- skirts, in this fair city, isolated cathedrals of various designs. Two of them are shown in the accompanying illustrations. In traveling up and down the two miles of this fairyland, numer-

CATHEDRAL GULCH 959 ous caves of varying magnitude and interest are found. Many of them are not visible until curious footsteps lead one to seek the hidden mysteries of the cathedrals. The effect which the valley has upon travelers is partially re- flected in the names given to certain of the more prominent views. '%* !■ M Scenes in Cathedral Gulch, Nevada One is called Celestial Tower; another, the Gates of Apollo; another, the Meeting Place of the Gods; and another, The Garden of the Fairies. Almost all the more plainly visible portions have equally fantastic names. Magnificence and mystery are written over every- thing, but it would be difficult for either artist or writer to con- vey the ideas impressed by the sights, to one who has not seen them. Besides the poetic beauty of Cathedral Gulch, there is much to please the eye and stimulate the mind of the geologist or the soil scientist. To such a visitor the scene suggests a time when water was much more plentiful than at present. During hundreds of years in the far past, torrential rain-storms in the mountains to the north have Scenes in Cathedral Gulch, Nevada picked up the loose material and smoothly spread it out when the water reached the level land in the gulch. Coming from different formations in the mountains, the sediment, which consists of the flour-like soil mixed with a small amount of fine sand, the different layers of material are differently colored. Then, during more recent times, smaller floods have washed deep, wide valleys in the center of this table-land, exposing to view the various beautiful layers of this,

960 IMPROVEMENT ERA several hundred feet deep deposit. The fine soil was very easily washed away when once the gorge was cut through the valley, and the drizzling rains of recent times have carved out the weaker portions and left the fantastic pillars, the cathedral-like structures, the nature beauties of which the citizens of the town of Panaca are justly proud. Like all great works of nature with their tendencies to stimulate a reverential attitude, the Cathedral Gulch does its part in this regard. When one is making his way among the pillars they somehow cause the eye to look reverentially toward the heavens. It is easy to image the loving care which the Creator exercised in carving this beautiful gulch; it is easy to think that he built it with the specific purpose or causing his children to forget the gross ways of the world and think of the One in heaven. Certain it is that no one with a spark of reverence in his soul will fail to think of God and his wonderful works when he sees and works his way through this garden of spires. A man is led to feel as George Matthew Adams did, when he con- templated the many God-wonders of nature: "I have often walked over the tracks that the Creator of the world surely paced — through canyons deep and winding, with rushing streams kissing their sides and breathing like the music of a distant harp. "Above, towering rocks of a thousand formations have talked to me of ages dead and gone, but alive again because of their suggestive tracks. Here a dizzy peak reaching hands to the sky; there a range of mountains, majestic, glorious, and hiding stories of a thousand trails. "Surely in this world, here and now, are to be found the Footprints of the Almighty." Provo, Utah Scenes in Cathedral Gulch, Nevada