The daily Alaskan., 1908-09-15

ventures of SORrdOugh YukonOr
 In tho Orange Groves of Southern
 California, the Moral of which IB
 Not Sot Down In Cold Type.
 A story was printed few days ago of how Prof. George Is back at the old stand In Dawson doing good work at the head of an iu- formation bureau calculated to giV
 prospec,ors some interest in the rich. est placer country that lies out doors and from which these men were driven by just mere selfish short sightedness on the part of those in power in the days of those thousand dollar pans, at the glittering sight of which men went bInd-as to the future. And the story will serve as excuse for printing an- other. Prof. George was editor of the Nugget iu those old days and for some years, more recently, he has been editor of the News Of Dawson. There, after the hurly burly Of the days Of sudden riches had flown and left him little the better for them, despite many stampede and many a conscientious wresEle with the windlass or 8 number ?, be settled down to se- cure bis competency by just plain plugging, plugging, and saving, and seli-denial. IE was tedious, but in the course of a few years he reached his goal. de resigned bis desk O. the News and with bis wife and his poke he bade farewell forever to the hard existence. the storm and frost of the north, the long bitter winters and host Of friends snd took boat for south. ern California. He had sustained him. self these many years by reading des- criptions Of this goal, of the orange groves and bungalOes, iD his mind adjusting hammocks to his taste under low.spreading, umbrageous Southern trees or studying the mechanism Of automobiles. Farewell to the rigors and the deprivstions of this stern, e1acting, inhospital, implacsble coun- trY-he had had enough.
 When he passed through Skagway few weeks ago he told bis experience this way: 1T bought 4O-acre tract just out of Los Angeles. It was beau tltul location. Roses were everywhere and their perfume filled the ar. built 8 beautiful little bungalow. My land was under au irrIgsting ditch and did not have to worry about rain. And this was SO far, well. For it never rained. As walked over those acres was sur rounded by halo of dust, It got into my hair and the pores of my skin. had the use of the irrigating ditch for 24 hours once iu SO often and was re- quired to make the most of 1t, for my nelghbor must have it next day, and so on. During those 24 hours labored every minute, directing the flow Of the water. The dust became mud into which I sank 10 my knees. had 10 use 8 big mat in my work which carried folded on my shoulder from place to place. The mud aud water sGreamed over my clothes. waded about in mud. The dust Of every day and the mud Of the irrigation days made me repulsiye to my wife and the occasional visitor. Each day was dead tired and went to bed at iu order that might get up at 4, as I found it necessary to do if was to make a success Of my little ranch. The blazing sun of every day dried up the juices of my system and a cloud in the sky was like the sight of an angels wing. At the end Of the season, by much pickering with the dealers, sold my crop for enough to let me out even That disposed of I bought a ticket for