Albuquerque morning journal. [volume] (Albuquerque, N.M.) 1903-1926, 1918-10-20

| sense--to the last degree At home
near Three Rivers he dresses as a
rancher. lives as one, thinks as one.
In closest contact with his men.
overseeing their work. speaking their
language, accepting thteir suggestions,
arguing matters OF ranch policy, and
gracefully yielding when convinced,
Senator Fall is, as one employee stated.
the boss We don't work for but with"
With him on the home place Is Mrs
Fall and his talented daughter, Jouett,
an artist in oils and water color, who
is equally at ease in Washington
drawing room, amid the busy needles
of Red Cross sewing room or on the
back of flying broncho, streaking
across the ranges of Three Rivers
Never. when his duties permit his alb
sence from Washington, is the Fall
home free from childish laughter, for
there are half dozen merry tots who
call him Gran dad" and some OF them
are guests at the ranch when he is in
the West.
As one looks into the eyes Of Senator
Fall, pleasing though piercing eyes,
the courage, persistency, brilliancy,
keenness and the latent power of the
man are mirrored. The determined
chin spells the fighter. The bronzed
complexion tells of life well spent.
The erect carriage, the hearty hand
clasp, the sturdy stride paint an ath-
lete not trained on the track but in
Gods great out-of-doors.
His hands are those OF leader.
They have not the tapering fingers of
the artist but rather the hammer-like
strength and dexterity of great sur.
geons digits. Those hands tell the
story of days passed pounding a drill
at Kingston and Hillsboro-heart-
breaking days when Nature lured Al
bert Fall on with the promise of gold
and yielding but little from her rocky
storehouse. They tell the tale of leath-
cred rein and swishing lariat in his
years across the ranges in cowmans
garb,, And they softened first thumb.
ing the pages of Blackstone, Pome.
roys Municipal Law and Greenleaf on
Evidence, until now they have found
their true place among the history
making documents of the Senate of
these United States.
1t is easy to talk to Senator Fall.
His voice, musical, well modulated, at
times striking the timbre of the dra.
matte, then vibrating with pathos or
sparkling with the Tilt of humor,
charms one to undivided attention. He
is so plain, everyday, big.hearted in
his ways that in conversation his an.
swers come in simple and direct style.
There is naught OF the pedantic about
him--this big man, big in stature and
big in mind.
MY hobby? I presume it is two
fold-serving my state to the best of
my ability and when duty lakes and
permits, building up my ranch"
His eyes kindled In the darkness as
his head swept the ATTITUDES of the
home ranch at Three Rivers. Thoro
was a note OF pride in his voice az hs
said.
Come inside and see my library"
History, research diplomacy, statis-
tics, art, oratory and literature, mar
shaled in orderly array, lined the walls
of his study. Lovingly he handled the
volumes gathered in lifetime. Each
one was as a companion, bringing him
knowledge, power or pleasure.
Midnight was climbing to chime
from the quaint, old clock above the
fireplace when left him surrounded
by his books.
Perhaps daylight would be close at
hand ere he would quit his printed
friends.
Good night, sir! Come again.
You're always welcome"
turned to look back at the house,
now silver-porched in the moonbeams.
Silhouetted In the doorway was a fix.
ure.
1t was Albert Bacon Fall--A Man.