Yours Sincerely

Yours SINCERELY SALUTE TO CECIL RICHARDSON:

"The Navajo Way" recently printed in your beautiful magazine was far better reading than I had ever hoped to find any where.

There is a philosophy that may benefit many of our "white man problems" if we can only realize it. I pray that many peo ple may read this story before they mingle or traverse among Dineh (The People). They will understand more of what they see.

I would like to salute Mr. Cecil Calvin Richardson for his fine work. Your maga zine is like a monthly letter from home. from my country, where I was born.

Charles Howard Teater Glendora, California

SHINE'S CHRISTMAS PARTY:

I am glad to learn in your October issue the suggestion to readers that gifts be sent to Shine Smith's Christmas Party for the Navajos. I have long admired his work and I think we could all help so much with small gifts at this time.

Erna B. Cotton Chicago, Illinois

PLEASE, MR. POSTMAN:

Several times in recent months my copy of ARIZONA HIGHWAYS has come folded in such a way as to mar the beauty of the colored pictures. Isn't there some way that you could print "Do Not Fold" on the envelope?

Mrs. Estelle B. Thomas Memphis, Tennessee

"The statement 'Please Do Not Fold' is not a permissible addition on envelopes used for mailing copies of the 'Arizona Highways' at the second-class rates of postage under the provisions of section 552, P.L. and R., paragraph 1."

WATER FOR TUCSON:

I was interested to read in the New York Herald Tribune of a proposition to pump water from the flooded mines of Tombstone to Tucson. Having lived there for nearly two years, 1901-1903, I am familiar with the situation. The proposi tion is certainly feasible. At the time I was there the Tombstone Consolidated Mining Company was actively employed in in stalling heavy pumping machinery to drain the flooded mines. These mines were closed twenty years previously on ac count of the water that was struck some thousand feet down. A thirty-horse team pulled the enormous boilers from the rail road. Tombstone is located on a small plateau about forty-six hundred feet alti tude. Tucson is about twenty-four hun dred feet, so gravity will help the pumping. Finally the pumps were working and the water piped off the plateau to the lower ground below and in an incredibly short time small truck farms were producing. But the pumps failed for they must have struck an underground river. As soon as this was discovered once more the mines were pronounced unworkable and have been so ever since. It might be said that I had a very special interest in this pumping procedure for the reason that with four other men we had formed a corporation under the laws of Arizona and had bonded four full mining claims. They had been successful in the early days and were down about six hun dred feet with main shaft, hoisting engine, cable and cage in excellent condition. Our mine would have been pumped out by the main pumping apparatus and we would simply have had to pay an assessment to the big company, all in accordance with mining rules.Of course we were pretty much disap pointed in the pumping fiasco but it was fun while it lasted. Had things gone right we would have made plenty of money with a relatively small outlay on our part. Thus our air castles faded away.

Dr. Henry Wallace, New York City, New York,

"Fast Freight" by Herb McLaughlin

The iron horse, moving over shining steel rails, links Arizona with the markets of the world. With the coming of railroads, Arizona's natural wealth became available.

OCOTILLO FENCE

Adobe houses stand in rowsConchita's house is one of those. The soil is bare and dry and hard, But all around her clean-swept yard Are ocotillo, close together, Each stalk a living green thing, whether It rains or not. She has no care That trees and flowers will not grow there.It's 'most as nice as flowers, she knows, To have the kind of fence that grows.

BILLY THE KID

Who gave you leave, Oh bandit bold, To hitch your pinto to my rhyme? A pale illusive marionette, You whisper, "Once upon a time-"

"I was a boy with sun-brown hair. Of down cheek and rounded chin. With suave beguiling emerald eyes, My smile could take the devil in. A woman slipped across the waste, She waited where the Gila flows; A magic night, a smothered laugh, A red Castilian rose.

"I hit the town with hellish shout, My good six-shooter flying flame, Guided by vanity and hate, Well knowing why I came. In my short span a host went down Before my pestilential gun: They counted twenty notches there, Or was it twenty-one?"

Who gave you leave, Oh bandit bold, To hitch your pinto to my rhyme? Unloose your steed and steal away Into your half-remembered time.

DEEP WINDOWS

Brooding eyes in a weathered face. Sullen and half asleep. Strangely, while admitting light They somehow seem to keep The sunshine out. Nights when the gales Rattle and shriek with demoniac din, Waking, reflecting the embers glow, Sparkling, they beckon the darkness in!