A Gateway to |;gl0 Opportunities

Motorists traveling the picturesque Redwood Errpire, are irnpressed with the farniliar scene pictured above-as they enter Eureka on Highway 101. Yet, this gateway, opened wide, trespeaks a rneaning.that cannot be recognized frorn the road. It is the ttopen sesamett to greater dealer opportunities, greater profits in 1940-with Redwood! It opens the way to rnutual prosperity; to that extra 6toornph" in H. E. grades, serviee and dealer cooperation.

(Continued from Page 6) six million of them, representing with their families more than twenty millions of our people, have been getting cash for NOT raising crops. It is no more surprising that they should holler when the "take" is threatened with extinction than that the morphine addict should clamor for his "rations."

Tolstoy told the ,aorr*o, " nr"* who saw a peasant plowing, and said to him: "If you knew you were to die tonight, what would you do today?" And the peasant answered, "I would plow." And the priest said to him, "You have made a wise answer, frY friend, for to plow is to pray."

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I'm just wondering, if plowing is praying, what sort of sin the farmer commits who accepts money for NOT plowittg.

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Stephen Girard,. famous Philadelphian of early colonial days, had an idea not unlike that of the peasant in Tolstoy's story. He was a great lover of trees. And when someone asked him what he would do today if .he knew he would not be alive tomorrow, he replied, "I would plant a tree." And that, I am sure, would be as much a prayer as the peasant's plowing.

The subject or prayer ;t i-; switch from sublime to ridiculous and I don't see anyone to stop me) often reminds me of the remark of the colored preacher in his Sunday sermon, when he said: "Speakin' ob pra'r, I notices dat when I ax de Lawd to sen me a turkey, I don't get it; but when I ax de Lawd to sen me out AFTAH a turkey-I gets it."

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Bluff old King Hal, of Britain, used to say that three men could keep a secret if two of them were away. Some more modern wag said that a man who says he has no secrets from his wife either has no secrets, or no wife.

One of literature's rn*a ,"-t"s examples of a play upon words was written by that great author Anonymous, when he wrote concerning the woman who, come weal come woe, remained true to her illicit love: "Her honor, rooted in dishonor, stands, and faith unfaithful keeps her falsely true."

It is indeed difficult to make progress forward when your headlight is on your caboose.

Looking back at "nrr".rl."ltnl "r,itar"r, get their Christmas joy out of their stockings; the grown folks out of their bottles. What a lousy brawl Christmas has come to be in this country ! rn the old days *" ."ogi. Jrrr lnrrurur. to work hard, live economically, and stay away from strong drink. Today we teach them to work as few hours as possible, keep their money in circulation, and be careful of their licker.

At the risk of getting the memory of Will Rogers in bad with our farm "experts," I was reading the other day that Will went to England shortly before he died, and wrote back that they had solved their farm problem in England by WORKING THEIR FARMS.

The statesman labors to make all men equal before the law; the professional politician to give the side with the most votes, the advantage.

What this country needs is NOT a good five cent cigar, as has been so often stated, but a sufficient number of people who believe, with Andrew Jackson, that debt is danger' r love a man *t o krrotJ" Jtt L" answers. James Barrie, great Scotch author, was such a man. The would-be wit who "kidded" Barrie was flirting with dynamite. An English toastmaster found that out too late. In introducing Barrie to a great dinner given in his honor in London, this man picked on the Scotch. He said that Scotland must be a good country to leave as evidenced by the fact that once a Scot left his native land, he never returned to live there. When Barrie rose to speak, he immediately replied to this remark. He said it was not only the Scotch who left home and never went back. Lots of others did it. English' for instance. He recalled when a great number of Englishmen left England and went to Scotland, and never returned. The place they went to in Scotland was called Bannockburn. (If you'll refer to your history you'll discover that that was a mighty swell answer.)

"There is a perennial nobleness and even sacredness in work. Were he never so benighted, forgetful of his high calling, there is always hope in a man that honestly and earnestly WORKS. In idleness alone is there perpetual despair."-Thomas Carlisle.

I probably risk chargeslo it"J"".-Uay heresy by uttering this thought: I would see no worthy person suffer, and no one go hungry, but-doesn't it seem a bit unfair when men who have wasted the spring, the summer, and the autumn of their lives, insistently demand that their winters be made pleasant at the expense of others who worked and saved, and deprived themselves of many things that the wasters enjoyed?