The producers news. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1918-1937, 1927-05-13

q AOCCO, VI, IL PCANuo1IICS MS Whit
face cleaned amid the poppies oe
Flanders Field, dead eyes seel1inc " ~
penetrate that veil which separs+oo
this world from that great Ronrro
beyond, then that some other mott
er's son might have her gift. m.
perennial sacrifice, the unfailiny lov0
the eternal yearning of motherhood
Some day some one will write tbo
great Epic of the West. Perhans
better still, some one will say if WIFI
music. With flutes and violins ba
will sing of broad prairies GLOWING
and golden under Gods brightasf
skies; black smudges on the horizon
which mean herds of countless bison.
glimmer of white rumps of anteIono
on Duties and in coulees; slinkinr
stealthy, stalk of coyote and of Wolf
disappearing flicker of Indian war
bonnets just under the edge of Soma
canyon; pitiless, maddening beast
and throb of savage drums, the IN.
dulations Of the dancers, and the fol-
lowing scream of tortured victims
Then, with ponderous, overbear.
ing, beat of drums and brass. he will
portray the steady, resistless march
Of the pioneers. Sing again the
creak of axles, the complaining SIdt
ter of dried-out spokes in unpaintnd
wheels, the creak of the yokes of the
oxen under the ponderous swavinc
Of horned heads, the incessant swish.
ing of tasseled tails against insect
pests, the crackle of squaw-wood in
the camps among the willows, the
Groom Of the mother-songs of valiant
women nursing babes whose golden
locks may. soon be drying in tepee-
smoke. The Indian attack, the ter
rifying war cry, the boom of the
black-powder rifles and muskets. the
hoarse battle cries of the Saxon. con.
quering, as he always has conquered
that soil which once his foot has
pressed.
The lumber wagons piled high with
the golden tribute Of the forests Of
the Atlantic or Pacific coasts; the
lonely homestead shack; the sod
barn; the tireless stringing of barbed
wire and planting of posts; rock duo
until hands become like horses
hOoves; the kissing Of plows parting
the tough sod; great billowing fields
Of golden grain or blue-eyed flax
Prosperity, riches, Ell Dorado!
Out of smiling skies, drouth and
hail, devastation and ruin,-and the
retreat of the beaten and the dis
heartened, unfit to survive in semi
civilization, staggering back to cities,
to factories and sure-pay, corner gro
ceries, and police-protection, the
stragglers harried by the scouts Of
the small bandit banks of the North
west.
This artist will tell, with scream
and sob of quivering strings, of the
agony Of soul of those who persisted
in the battle. Mothers who wept be-
cause their sons had to ride the plowS
instead of cleaning from books the
accumulated wisdom of centuries;
daughters who sacrificed their fut-
ures to earn the family livelihood;
husbands who at length lay down in
the long furrow, their faces forward,
pushing ever forward, to work and
to win.
And into this great diapason will
soon creep a note of contentment
God is in his heaven. All is right
with the world. Slowly, to be sure;
and painfully, and with agony and
tears and sweat. But what was ever
accomplished by hero or by honey
bee without labor and without sacri-
flee? We count our treasures, every
one apart, valuipg them only by what
they have cost us. And our fathers
love the soil. Many died for it and
were buried in it. We love it, for
that love is in our blood. No land is
ever made safe for democracy or for
marquis wheat until it has been wat
cred with the blood and sweat Of
heroes, and the tears of heroic
women. This has been the history
OF Our Country. And the history OF
this part of our Country is no differ
ent from the history of all America
By toll and by conflict we conquer.
We stick: we win.
Some one some day will put all this
into the form Of a great National
Anthem, which will have in it the
terrible, slow, swing of the Battle
Hymn of the Republic, the undylng
enthusiasm of the Marseillaise; the
love of the Homeland which throOS
In De Yacht ON Rhine, the devotion
to nation and to government which
marks God Save the King.
And as the West, the glorious un,
fulfilled, achieved fulfillment, he VIII
say, with that surge of song WIN
which alone we express great emo