The Formal Opening of Bryce Canyon, Season of 1925

THE FORMAL OPENING OF BRYCE CANYON, SEASON OF 1925 By Grace Wharton Montaigne I A "Once Upon a Time Story," with a resume of many, striking points of interest in that fairy place, thrown into a personal setting for narrative form. Dedicated to the better knowledge of our state. A little child who saw fairies at work. ri l-; v.-. ma 1 «4 M^MWHl fe:. W Copyright 1925, Franfe Beckwith, Delta, Utah. "It is the face of General Ulysses S. Grant," cried the little girl in great glee. As Governor Dern's auto sped up the easy slope of Red canyon on the way to make formal opening of Bryce for the season of 1925, his thoughts were intent on the set speech he was going to make, and he passed "The Portals" unheeding; even the varicolored "Ambas- sadors" (whose purpose, there placed, was to indicate the greater splendors beyond) were not even so much as glanced at. The car smoothly purred onward toward the first tunnel; but there they found gates thrown across the way and passage barred by chains of ferns and ropes of roses, forbidding entry. As his car came to a full stop, a little fairy clad in light and airy dress, golden star in forhead, and wand in hand, tripped lightly to the car; she mounted the running board and said: "Who would enter the confines of our realm and pass the barred gates without sanction of our Queen Chromatasia?" With easy courtesy the Governor replied:

OPENING BRYCE CANYON 645 "Fair maiden, take word to your most gracious sovereign, that it is I, Governor Dern, Chief Executive of the Commonwealth of the State of Utah, who craves permission to enter these realms, long heralded of men." The fairy disappeared around the cliff. The Fairy Queen Enters In a moment, surrounded by a troupe, the queen advanced, regal of step and stately mein: above her brow, instead of tinsel coronet, she wore an ivory miniature done in color, her own handiwork, a replica of her domain at Bryce, of one of the beauty spots chiselled by gnome and tinted by fairy. So entrancing was the scene that the Governor could scarce wrest his gaze from its beauty to the fair face below as he bowed his obeisance and said: "Beauteous Queen, Governor Dern and retinue would fain enter upon your domains. We come not in commerce nor in trade; none will destroy, none deface. But. Oh Queen. I have among mv people one who draws with light in a box, on the instant snapping of a shutter, scenes which took your merry elves eons to chisel; another paints with pigment, fixing hues in frozen form to the delectation of all who behold; and yet another wields a pencil to make a story — these three assail each beauty spot that their work may give to other thousand eyes the joy of beholding your exceeding handi- work, if but your gracious consent be gained to our entreaty." Spoke the Queen: "Right welcome is Governor Dern and his retinue. Fairies, do you each drop a choice flower that you newly painted this morn into his car; Iris of the many hues, do you sit upon the Governor's right hand and bring to his notice all that/ may be seen of our realm on the journey to our castle. Ariel, daintv spirit, do vou go to Old Carver of the Purple Cloak, in his deep and shadowy grotto, and bid him do our heed." Unseen of the Governor she whispered tersely in the messenger's ear, and away he whisked merrily on a mission he joyed to see fulfilled. £ sjc 4s ♦ ♦ ♦ In the auto next following the Governor, the president of the Delta Chamber of Commerce rode, his aged father of eighty-two years, a Grand Army of the Republic veteran who had seen hospital service in the Civil war when a youth, and in the rear seat the little daughter, aged seven, whose eyes were still big with having seen the fairies; and on the seat beside her the story teller. The little maid clasped her hands as it was all over and wistfully said: "Daddy, I wish fairies would meet our car." In lieu of answer the daddy changed gears and on they sped. (But maybe the fairies had a treat in store for the little girl better than a shower of roses — who can tell?) ****** Story tellers see much and hear more. And then beg audience that the sweets of their vision may be tasted by others, for their eyes

646 IMPROVEMENT ERA will be clouded and their ears dulled if they impart not what the gift bestows. So the story teller snuggled up to the little maid and said, "That first place we passed back yonder was 'The Portals.' That is the outlying post of Queen Chromatasia's realms; and just beyond that, where I told you to look closely, the large colored rock there near to the road, was 'The Ambassadors,' and their retinue. Long, long years ago, when Queen Chromatasia was about to be visited by a very rich and magnificent king, she sent from her throne in Bryce canyon two ambassadors to meet this royal party; she clad them in the rich vestments you see before you, fold upon fold, saying: " 'Depart to the edge of our realm, and there sit in state, maintain- ing our station, that he and all, other men who follow him may see in your splendor a hint of the richer magnificence of our own court.' And to this day those Ambassadors have sat there, obeying the behest of the Queen." The Little Maid Sees Gnomes at Work As the messenger Ariel sped from the Queen on his errand to Old Carver of the Purple Cloak, he chuckled oft and heartily; "O ho," quoth he, "some one deemed worthy is to see Old Carver at his work — Old Carver of the Purple Cloak whose work with tool in hand has never yet been seen by men. I wonder — hum-m-m, I wonder whom I'm to touch on the lids that they may see this sight?" ****** At the throne of the Queen all eyes were turned on Governor Dern as he arose amid applause to make his speech; which gave the Queen just the opportunity she wanted, for her sharp eye spied the dainty Ariel tugging the unwilling old Carver from his deepest shade. As soon as placed where eyes brightened by a fairy wand could see, the messenger darted to the Queen's side. "Go touch little Marion's lids, the girl of seven," said the Queen. Instantly the little girl cried, "Oh, Daddy, how bright things are! I can see ever so clearly." "Tush, tush, child," said the father, "the Governor is speaking." As the little maid's eyes grew accustomed to the enlarged vision she saw Old Carver of the Purple Cloak. (For as all children know, little elves and gnomes, who work with chisel in hand and prying bar to loosen, haunt the deepest purple shadows of crevice and grotto, where their own purple blends best with the shadows, for they are all dressed in that hue that none may see — save those permitted.) Maid Marion saw him take his chisel in hand and rap it smartly with a tiny hammer; into the crevice thus started he inserted a wedge, and then followed with a tiny prying bar. As soon as the pry was started and began to give, he summoned a score of purple-clad little helpers from the inner recesses, and with a "Heave ho! Heave ho! a right

OPENING BRYCE CANYON 647 merry Heave ho!" they tugged and worked; the piece loosened, tottered, and fell with a crash! "Oh, daddy, Oh, daddy! Look! I saw them! See what they've done! They've broken off that piece of rock — I saw them at it — and it leaves a face of — " "Marion, hush, child; don't. The Governor is speaking, and don't you see you're interrupting?" "But daddy, I saw fairy gnomes' at work; I saw them carve away the rock and leave the face — (and here a joyful sob of pent up emotion caught the voice) the face of General Ulysses S. Grant." At the name of the great commander, the grandfather, old G. A. R. veteran that he was, whipped erect to rigid "tenshun." Sixty- odd years flung themselves at him from out of memory's store. The scene was graven back in the sixties; the grandfather, then a young man, was serving in the hospital staff, carrying wounded to the dressing stations and ministering to the suffering. The night before the "Battle on the Ridge," his company had been told that on the following morning they would go into sharp action. His' dearest friend, a private from his own home town, sat all that night driving a racing pen through a last fond farewell to a loved wife at home; in the morning, before the regiment moved into action, he presented himself to the young medical assistant, pale, wan, and haggard, and said: "I'm going to get mine today. I feel it." "Tut, tut, man; you shouldn't give in to idle thoughts like that; cast it from your mind." The other went on unheeding, "I've written this letter to my wife. If need be tonight, you mail it to her and send this watch to my ten year old boy." Before the astounded stretcher bearer could reply he found him- self alone with a missive in one hand, and a watch in the other, and the figure of his friend wending its) way to the duty so forebodingly dreaded. That night he gazed on the shattered face of his friend, whose body was riddled with secession lead. "Orderly, mail this letter." To the Commanding Officer he said, "I turn this watch over to you sir, Jim's dead." The grandfather's rigid position relaxed, the gray hairs bent in sorrow. "Come, Marion," said the story teller, "let you and I walk apart." (Concluded in the next issue") Laughter Laughter is cheap medicine Take it while you may A philosophy not well understood, But one that's sure to pay. San Diego, Calif. D. C. RETSLOFF