nk was spoken in the Chamber of Deputies in
Paris, every member arose to his feet as a tribute of honor.

But why do we all claim Luther Burbank? Why is his name a household
word in every country? Because, without him, the world today would no
doubt be hungry.

Mr. Burbank was born almost beneath the shadow of Bunker Hill Monument
on the seventh day of March, 1849. When able to toddle about, his
playmates were plants rather than animals. Oddly enough his first doll
was a cactus plant that he carried about proudly until one day he fell
and broke it.

As a boy he was not strong, and did not like the rougher sports. In
school he was bashful, retiring, and serious. Though a good student he
could neither recite well nor speak pieces, as he was afraid even of
his own voice.

[Illustration: LUTHER BURBANK
World Famous Plant Wizard]

When he was just a lad he was taken out of school and put to work in a
plow factory that belonged to his uncle. But he did not like the
factory. Often he longed for the out of doors with its plants and
flowers. So strong was this desire for the out of doors that he left
the factory and began truck gardening on a small scale; and it was
while caring for this truck garden that he developed the Burbank
potato, thus achieving his first success. So valuable was this
discovery that the United States Department of Agriculture declares
that the Burbank potato has added to the wealth of this country
seventeen million dollars each year since this variety was developed.

When twenty-six years of age, Mr. Burbank decided that the climate and
soil of far-away California were best suited to his work. Accordingly,
with ten of his best potatoes, and his small savings, he started
across the continent. When his journey was ended he found himself in a
fertile but unimproved valley about fifty miles north of San
Francisco. On either side of this beautiful valley were spurs of the
Coast Range Mountains.

His first task was to find work, but as few people at that time lived
in the region, jobs were hard to get. In speaking of this period of
his life, Mr. Burbank says: "One day I heard that a man was building a
house. I went to him and asked him for the job of shingling it. He
asked me what I would do it for. The regular price was two dollars and
a half a thousand, but I was so anxious for the work that I offered to
do it for one dollar and seventy-five cents. 'All right,' he said,
'come and begin tomorrow.' Bu