St. Paul daily globe., 1895-11-20

7 has compelled us to have this evening
session. / have the pleasure of INTRO
| ducing S. Fl. Hall, of Minnesota, who
! will discuss Potato Farming.
| Mr.. Hall is a smooth, shrewd-looking
| fellow, who is known as the Potato
| King" as he Is one of the largest po-
toto shippers in this country, and he
can talk. The stenographers started in
bravely, but before Mr.. Hall had talked
| two paragraphs it was discovered that
they could not keep up with the pace
the king of the Murphies" set them.
After talking for some FIVE minutes ne ne
suggested that if he had any hope of
being reported in the papers he had
better lower his speed. He did, and
while still talking rapidly. as well as
speeches made so far in the conven
ton. He was frequently applauded,
for he was very witty in what he said,
as we'll as giving the members of the
convention some exceedingly practical
advice on various matters of farming
in general
He urged the cultivation of potatoes
and beans, and in his happy way, gave
a number of illustrations of whoi2ccm-
munities where farming. had not paid
until they tired raising everything, and
then they had grown prosperous. Mr.:
Halls witty speech excited general
discussion of the profit and business
Of potato raising. The speakers were
their remarks gave comprehensive
view of the potato subject. Following
this discussion c. Fl. Hall, editor of the
Northwestern AgriculturiSt,o of st. Paul,
was introduced and read poem ent1-
tied 1.-THE Northwest" which was as
follows:
stand mid the snow-drifted prairies,
By rivers meath ice-robes at rest,
And turn from the dreams of past ages,
From the nations who fed at my
breast,
From cycles of barbarous warfare,
From labors whose field was the
chase,
From ambitions whose needs die for
With the throes of perishing race,
With sad pride and joy-lightened sor-
row
For the millions forever at rest.
look toward a brighter tomorrow,
For my realm of the golden North
west.
I turn from the picturesque mem'ries
Of the fierce, wild and passionate
From the rites and the worship of
centuries,
Too savage and simple to last
The march of the bison herds tameleSS,
The roar of the prairie fires sweep,
From tortures and mysteries nameless,
From hatreds unending and deep,
And the long line of warriors and sages
Who knew neither mercy nor fear,
Recedes through the vista of ages,
Growing dim till the last disappear.
And 1 beckon to every nation,
I summon from every land
The hordes of that mighty migration
Which throngs to the old world S
worn strand.
From Scotia's grand heather-clad
From Norway's deep ffords and blue
hills,
| From Gallia's vine-shadowed fount-
aims,
And Iberia's valleys and rills,
From Denmark's bold shore and the
lowlands
| Which Holland holds back from the
1 summon the mighty procession,
Whose future and hopes lie with me-
| From each shire and city of England,
From RuSsia'S huge SteppeS, and the
drear
Volcano-swept deserts Of Iceland
My children are fastening, here.
| The Puritan'S sons, and the daughters
OF Pilgrims and Cavalier take
| Thier way DER the Father of Waters
By prairie and forest and and lake,
| To join in one common endeaVor,
To mingle as years go and come,
| And boast as the need of their labor,
One language, one nation, one home.
I have homes for the homeless, and
honor
For him who is lowly of birth,
| / have lands for the landless, and
labor
That bringeth not sorrow but mirth.
| Rich mines where the bright gold Is
hidden,
Broad acres by share never broke,
| Boundless pastures where Craze unfor-
hidden
Herds unused to halter or yoke.
| Green meads where rose, violet and
lily,
| Bloom, and delicate tendrils entwine,
| And rivers meandering stiliy
Meath the broad bough and Chamber
ing vine.
Come, then, from the DER crowded
cities,
The periis and tolls of the sea,
| From the lands that are barren and
sterile,
| To the prairies so fertile and free.
| From faith lost in blind superstition,
From hope overcome by despair,
| From the thraldoms of ancient tradi-
And burdens too heavy to bear.
Come from misery, servitude, sorrow,
| To fortune and honor and rest,
! Ye heirs of that brighter tomorrow,
Of my realm of the Golden North
| west.
Ere long the brief days will grow
longer,
And northward the life-giving sun,
Send his rays, day by day growing
stronger
Till the reign of stern winter is done.
Soon the white drifts will melt from
my bosom,
| And the prairie anemone shew
| Her green buds and delicate blossoms
Where now lies the frost-jeweled
snow.
AS the snow melts away in the spring
time,
See the past lovers effaced from my
breast,
AS welcome new race by myriads,
To my realm of the Golden North
west.
Following the poem of Mr.. Hall, and
very appropriately, too, a dreamy
waltz selection was rendered by the
orchestra.