To whom does Luther Burbank belong? Massachusetts, in old New England, claims him as her son. But far to the west, proud California, kissed by the majestic Pacific, declares that he more truly belongs to her. But why argue? A man whose life has so materially blessed mankind everywhere belongs to the whole world. Recently, in far way France, when the name of Mr. Burbank 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.

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.’ But I had no shingling hammer and all the cash I had in the world was seventy-five cents, 60 which I at once expended in purchasing the necessary hammer. Next morning when I reached the job, my new hammer in hand, all ready to go to work, I was surprised and––what shall I say––dismayed, to find another man already at work, while the owner calmly came to me and said, ‘I guess you’ll have to let that job go, as this man here has undertaken to do it for one dollar a thousand.’

“How disappointed I was! I had spent my last cent, had a hammer that was no use to me now, and no job. But I kept a stiff upper lip and work soon came, and I’ve never been so hard up since.”

Mr. Harwood in describing this period in the life of Mr. Burbank says: “The man who was to become the foremost figure in the world in his line of work, and who was to pave the way by his own discoveries and creations for others of all lands to follow his footsteps, was a stranger in a strange land, close to starvation, penniless, beset by disease, hard by the gates of death. But never for an instant did this heroic figure lose hope, never did he abandon confidence in himself nor did he swerve from the path he had marked out. In the midst of all he kept an unshaken faith. He accepted the trials that came, not as a matter of course, not tamely, nor with any mock heroism, but as a passing necessity. His resolution was of iron, his will of steel, his heart of gold; he was fighting in the splendid armor of a clean life.”

As a result of his industry, in a few years, Mr. Burbank was able to buy four acres of land where he started a nursery. From the first this enterprise was successful. Upon this plot he built a modest home where he still resides. Here, and on a larger plot a few miles distant, all his remarkable experiments have been made.

Before we learn more about his achievements I am sure we should like to become better acquainted with the man. Suppose, then, we invite Professor Edward Wickson of the University of California, who knows him well, to tell us about him.

“Mr. Burbank is of medium stature and rather slender form; light eyes and dark hair, now rapidly running to silver. His countenance is very mobile, lighting up quickly and as quickly receding to the seriousness of earnest attention, only to rekindle with a smile or relax into a laugh, if the subject be in the lighter vein. He is exceedingly quick in apprehension, seeming to anticipate the speaker, but never intruding upon his speech. There is always a suggestion of shyness in his manner, and there is ever present a deep respectfulness. He is frank, open-hearted, and out-spoken. All his actions are artless and quiet; even the modulations of his voice follow the lower keys.”

But, you ask, what marvelous things has this modest man done that should make his name a household word the world over?

All truly great people have high ideals that guide them in their work. The one ideal that guides Mr. 62 Burbank is his love for humanity. Naturally sympathetic, he cannot endure the thought of human suffering.

Since so much human misery is due to lack of food, to hunger, he has resolved if possible to make the world produce more bread. But how can he do this? If only he can get each head of wheat to produce just one additional grain then the problem will be solved––for then the wheat crop of this country will be increased five million two hundred thousand bushels. Year after year he worked at this task until finally each head of wheat actually did produce more grains. Now that he has succeeded in increasing the yield of wheat, he has resolved not to stop until the yield of all the cereals is increased in a like manner.

By what principle, then, does he accomplish these marvelous feats? What are his methods? Eager as we are to understand them, doubtless most of us must wait until we have learned a great deal about science, for his methods are extremely scientific.

Though unable to comprehend his methods, we are able to appreciate the results of his work. So marvelous are these results that they seem like fairy tales. For example, he has developed a white blackberry; but this is not all, he has developed blackberry plants so large that a single plant produces more than a bushel of berries.

I am sure that we all like strawberries so well that sometimes we have wished that the strawberry season were not so short; and in the future it will not be, 63 for he has produced plants that bear strawberries all summer.

Mr. Burbank, knowing that boys and girls are likely to hit their fingers cracking walnuts, has developed a walnut with a very thin shell, so thin in fact that the birds can break through it and help themselves to the meat. Now he has to thicken the shell again.

How should you like to eat a peach that had, instead of the ordinary stone, a fine almond in the center? In the future you may eat just such peaches, for Mr. Burbank has developed them.

Most of us have seen the ordinary cactus. We have been very careful, however, not to touch it as the spines are sure to prick us. It is interesting to know that the cactus is a desert plant––that, though millions of acres of arid land in the West can produce little else, they can produce enormous quantities of cactus. Unfortunately, these plants have always been useless as neither man nor beast would eat them. True, cattle liked them, but the cruel spines made the eating of them impossible.

As good pasture lands are so scarce in the West, Mr. Burbank wondered why a cactus could not be developed that had no spines. Accordingly, he began his work, and already has accomplished results far greater than he had expected. Not only has he developed spineless cactus, thus redeeming millions of acres of desert land for the use of animals, but he has also developed scores of varieties that are pleasing to the taste of man. Some 64 taste like the cantaloupe, others like the peach, and still others like the plum or pomegranate. Fortunately, they ripen at all times during the year and can be carried to every part of the country without decaying en route. Through the efforts of Mr. Burbank the hitherto worthless cactus has become the most promising fruit of the desert.

Just as Mr. Burbank has improved the wheat, the blackberry, the strawberry, the peach, and the cactus, so he has increased the yield and improved the quality of practically every cereal, fruit, and vegetable.

True, he has not made a great fortune for himself, but a knowledge that tens of thousands who otherwise might go hungry are, because of his efforts, fed, must give him a satisfaction that is far greater than money could give. And, after all, doesn’t true greatness lie in giving to others rather than in gathering to one’s self?

“And he gave it as his opinion, that whoever could make two ears of corn, or two blades of grass, to grow upon a spot of ground where only one grew before, would deserve better of mankind and do more essential service to his country, than the whole race of politicians put together.”

––Dean Swift.