Reno — a Book of Short Stories and Information

by Lilyan Stratton

PART 1

SOCIAL AND INDUSTRIAL LIFE

Dull in Reno? Why no; how can one be bored in this delightful "big little city," when here you will find a concentration of all the most picturesque phases of life—a conglomeration of gaiety and tragedy, humor and drama, frivolity and learning! What a fertile field for the psychologist and sociologist.

It is wonderfully interesting not always to turn to books only, with their rigid, lifeless rules and laws; books can only convey to us the things someone else has learned! Those who desire a real understanding of human nature's handiwork must work and play on human mountains, in human fields and human swamps.

Being an ardent student of life and character, I have found Reno highly interesting and amusing, and dear reader, if you will do me the honor to accompany me through the following pages of this chapter, I am sure you too will be interested.

First we will visit the restaurants, cafes and hotels which are teeming with the vigor of life, vibrant and pulsating; and if you know and understand human relationship, or wish to, then you may overflow with sympathy, laugh in conviviality, or perhaps weep in the privacy of your own room for what is and for what might have been….

The fashionable restaurant is not a large pretentious place, elaborately decorated, but there is something in the atmosphere which is not tangible but which we yet can sense. Who are all these people? and if each told his own story, how tremendously interesting it might be! Unconsciously, you know that the atmosphere is distinctive; that things are different; so many interesting personalities grouped into such a small place is something most unusual.

Over in the corner is a New York banker; his strong, handsome face marked with character lines and crowned with white hair: the stamp of long years of struggle in the financial world. See, he is smiling across the table at his companion, and his face is almost boyish as he chats and laughs. Such a companion! I wonder what fate has sent her to cheer the desert city; a modern Cleopatra, even more beautiful than she of Egypt: a radiant beauty, this dark-eyed queen of the Orient; ruby lips and teeth of matched pearls; hair black as midnight, and fires smoldering in dreamy eyes as if in pools of mystery… Bored in Reno? How could one be?

This is only a cafe such as you might visit in any other city. One might see the same banker and the same Oriental beauty in a New York cafe. But there they would not be nearly so interesting; for such people to be in Reno means either a domestic comedy, tragedy or romance. Each one is a puzzle, and one finds oneself intent upon divining the mystery embodied in these personalities, as they come and go like shadows on a screen.

Now the waiter comes: there is something unusual about him also; one can't help noticing his big, powerful form as he bends over the table to take the order; he is a New York chauffeur working his way free from a nagging wife, so that he may marry a popular society belle. You can forgive her, can't you, for admiring his handsome physique; a Greek god he is in spite of his Irish brogue and bad ear for grammar…. But then she probably does not hear much of that, and won't if he is wise.

That little woman over there with the carmine lips and black eyes, she is the wife of a Methodist minister and is here for the "cure" of course, like the rest. She is going to hitch her matrimonial wagon to a vaudeville "star" by way of a change! "The very day I get my decree," she told me.

There comes an interesting couple. I think the woman is Moroccan. Doesn't she look a barbarous relic with those immense rings in her ears? You feel that there should be one strung through her nose, too. There is a story abroad that she is the consort of a well known millionaire of Chicago; after several unsuccessful attempts on her part at stabbing him, he is giving half his fortune in alimony to get rid of her. The other night at Ricks' she threw a plate at a man because for five minutes he paid more attention to her woman friend than to her…. A dangerous playmate, methinks!

That charming little lady in a symphony of blue, surrounded by a company of admiring friends, is Mme. Alice, a Broadway opera star; her story is very interesting indeed. No, I dare not tell; it is sufficient that you should know that she is a gentle, sweet little mother, although she looks a mere girl herself. She has a voice of unusual quality and dramatic sweetness. I have had the pleasure of hearing her sing at several concerts which she gave for charity. She is extremely generous in that direction and always draws a packed house. She got her divorce while I was out there and passed on like the other shadows on the screen. The last I saw of her was when she was singing the "Battle Cry of Freedom" in the Hotel Golden lobby, as her decree had been granted. Her face was just radiantly happy as she repeated several times: "I am free, I am free."….

At a table, back in the shadows of the palms by the piano, sits another interesting little lady from gay New York. She is also a singer of note and the wife of a well known author. She has taken a mansion on the banks of the Truckee, and brought along her retinue of servants. Of course she is beautiful, the golden haired, blue eyed type, with a complexion like tinted rose leaves….

Who is that lone man at the table just opposite? Ah! that bearded gentleman with light hair, wearing a black tie; an artist-looking sort of chap? That is a world-famous portrait painter. I had the pleasure of meeting him and his beautiful bride at Cannes, Southern France, some years ago. Yes, he does look rather forlorn; there is a pathetic droop to his mouth. No, he is not here for a divorce; one of the exceptions.

He arrived a few days ago from Tangiers; it was while there that he received by registered post his wife's summons in her divorce suit, and he took the first ship back to America to fight the suit and to try to win back his beautiful wife, who, by the way, is also a talented artist. But alas! Cupid is a stubborn little beggar; though blind as a bat and not very large, yet he has a will of his own, and won't be driven or led….

Though the man seated over there is apparently very interesting and is internationally known as a great artist and an exhibitor in the Royal Academy in London; though he must have loved his wife very much, to have traveled half way around the world from the northern coast of Africa to Reno, in order to try and bring about a reconciliation, still the beautiful wife has gone on with her divorce, which was finally granted, though bitterly contested!

And so there he sits as though lingering over the grave of a great love. Bow down, ye Gods, and weep….

The hotels also are filled with interesting types; the pretty girl at the news-stand today suddenly disappeared! Yes, she got her divorce! In her place is the homeliest man you have even seen, and all the traveling men look disgusted and buy their papers from the newsboys in the street. The hotel stenographer has also taken her departure, and now we see a dainty blonde in place of the statuesque brunette. The brunette has gotten her divorce and has gone to San Francisco to marry a millionaire sportsman, so I hear.

The beautiful lady with the sparkling black eyes, between that little boy and girl, is a violinist. They have the rooms over mine, and for several months I have heard the patter of tiny feet and childish free laughter; but I fear the mother does not laugh so much. I have been told that she lives in constant fear lest her husband come and take the children from her. In this case, I am told, there is a chance of reconciliation. I hope so with all my heart!

The tall, handsome old gentleman speaking to her is a retired civil engineer; very wealthy I believe. He lived twenty-one years with his first wife who died; after some time he married again, but after one year of married life he is here for the "cure." He is an enthusiastic sportsman, a good horseman and very popular.

The Court House is the next place of interest to study character, to find interesting personalities and new types. You may go over any day and watch some poor victim's case being tried. If one is doing time one self, it is a very good way to obtain inside information, though it is a bit like being at your own hanging….. not exactly, of course, but enough to make the anticipation peculiarly gruesome. Each searching question of the judge seems to draw the noose around the plaintiff's neck tighter and tighter; you will hold your breath: a word, and the six months' exile and more are all in vain….. Not until the final decision, "Judgment for the plaintiff," is pronounced do you heave a sigh of relief.

[Illustration: ONE OF THE COURT ROOMS IN FAMOUS RENO COURT HOUSE]

Each day the divorce mill grinds the steady grist, and it is there that one has a splendid opportunity of studying personality and character. The wife who is nagged and abused; the one who is obliged to support herself and her children; the one who has outgrown her charms; the luxurious beauty who has spent her husband's fortune and is preparing to spend another in the same way; the wife who has made a mistake and found the right man at the wrong time; the wife whose husband another woman has taken; the wife of a drunkard or a gambler. The husband who is nagged; the husband whose wife is a spendthrift; the husband whose wife wins prizes at bridge and neglects her home; the husband whose wife has deserted him when he needed her most….

Naturally the stories you hear from the "aspirants" are always plausible; and so they go by, the endless passing show.

Next we will go to dinner; we will dine at the Hotel Golden tonight; they have just opened their new restaurant, and the food is excellent; so is the cabaret. There are two beautiful girls, new arrivals, who sing very well indeed; one is tall and fair and more than usually interesting. This beautiful girl sings with wonderful expression; a sweet tender passion, expressing at the same time a great love and a world of sympathy …. It is said that out of suffering comes sympathy, out of pain tenderness….

This girl might well burst into fame on the heart throbs of her songs; they are the voice of a soul which has suffered much, loved much and has become all tenderness and all sweetness.

Another interesting type whose story will be told at the Court House in a few months.

There is a violinist who is exceptional also; he draws the bow over his violin, and low, sweet strains of music come floating to our ears; then the music will suddenly change to the wild ecstasy of joy which will compel you to notice the player. When you look at him, you will know that his soul is not there; your heartstrings will quiver until the music stops; then you will suddenly find that you have forgotten to eat, and that the food is cold…. But you ponder on: you wonder who that artist-dreamer is; he must have been leading his love through poppy fields, kissing away from starving lips love's hunger, while he played…. Yes, he is here for the "cure."

After dinner we will go to the theatre. There are several theatres, but the large productions usually go to the Majestic, which is modern in every respect and has seating capacity of more than one thousand. All the New York productions that make the Pacific Coast Tour play Reno. All the eminent musicians such as Kreisler, Misha Elman, the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and others, stop here on their Western tour, and their concerts are always well attended and tremendously appreciated.

Tonight we will hear the Boston Symphony….

You are surprised at the large ultra-fashionable audience; there are as many in evening dress as one would expect to see at a New York first night; here one can't tell the members of the Divorce Colony from the residents. They are an aggregation of well dressed, appreciative people, anxious to enjoy the evening's wonderful music.

Dancing is the next in line of indoor amusements; most of the hotels and restaurants have splendid floors and excellent dance music. At Wilsonian Hall there is a beautiful ball room, and those who wish to learn the latest steps will find an expert teacher in Mrs. Wilson who takes special trips to New York every season in order to become acquainted with the very latest dances. Her classes and receptions are patronized by the best people, both of the Colony and City, and are very interesting and popular.

Those who take their pleasure in life a little more seriously will find an excellently equipped public library, thanks to Mr. Carnegie. There is also a very fine collection of books at the University of Nevada, which is conveniently located in a very beautiful part of the city. I should like to pay a passing tribute to the University staff. They are as fine a set of professors as one could possibly desire to have. I had an opportunity of attending some of the lectures during the Summer Course and found them exceedingly interesting and well delivered.

Of special interest to women would be the Century Club, a well organized body of the best women in the city. They are interested in home economics, child welfare and improvement of social conditions generally. They own their own spacious club house, which has a large assembly hall, lecture room, banquet hall, service kitchen and large grounds facing the river, with tennis courts and other conveniences for entertaining.

There is also a Suffragette Club which is known as the Civic League, and is also instrumental in promoting public welfare. The Mothers' Clubs or Associations too, are better developed than those in many a large city; a fact which rather agreeably surprised me and proves how decidedly progressive are the women of the West.

And now we will have a look round and visit the out-of-door attractions, which are many and varied. In summer, there is Belle Isle, a beautiful little amusement park on the banks of the Truckee, almost in the center of the city and the scene of many jolly carnivals. The city park is also a pretty little spot, and here are given many festivals and concerts for the Red Cross and other charitable organizations. It is a delightful place to spend a summer afternoon or evening. The gay music, flying colors and beautifully tinted light among the branches of the trees are all an inspiration to free happiness. There too it is delightful to sit when all is quiet, and watch the moonlight on the snow-capped mountains, while the warm summer breeze stirs the leaves above and the distant rushing waters of the Truckee float out to you like fairy laughter on the summer air.

[Illustration: PALISADES CANYON SHOWING HUMBOLT RIVER]

Nature has many delightful surprises in store for the new arrival in Reno; when you have strayed out to Moana Hot Springs and have taken a refreshing dip, you will agree with me. I thought the water was heated until a friend explained that it came gushing out of the ground almost boiling hot and had to be cooled off for the pools. There had been Jeffries' quarters during his training for the Jeffries-Johnson fight.

From Moana one can see Steamboat Springs; these springs can be seen from a distance of several miles, owing to the fact that they send a steady stream of hot steam into the air, which spreads over an area of a mile or more; it is a strange sight to see this stream ascending into the clear atmosphere from the roaring regions below. The various hot springs to me are the most wonderful part of nature's loveliness. Here one may watch lonely colonists and native maidens dive and play in the water whilst listening to their laughter. An early morning dip in the pool and a swift canter back to town will start your blood tingling; clear the city-cramped lungs and fill them with Nevada's fresh invigorating air. It will make one feel like a two year old and add ten years to one's life…..

Ricks, the famous road house, and training quarters of Jack Johnson, the black champion prize fighter, is within walking distance of Reno. Its chicken dinners have helped to make the place famous. There are private rooms for those who seek seclusion, a splendid dance floor, and I am told that here the mechanical pianos grind out waltzes, one steps and fox trots, whilst glasses clink far into the night and parties of colonists make merry.

Farther on is Laughton Hot Springs, another popular bathing resort. This place is mostly patronized by motorists and equestrians and is more fortunate than the others in its location. The little rustic hotel is built in the cosiest nook, just at the bend of the river; the fine old trees bend their graceful branches over the rushing waters in which the majestic mountains reflect their wondrous beauty. Here one may obtain private dressing rooms and bathing pools, or a party of two or more may have a number of dressings rooms opening onto the same pool. The water in the pools changes every fifteen minutes. I am told there is a continuous inflow and overflow, which empties out into the river.

What a wonderful spot to build a modern structure with beautiful steam rooms, modern dressing rooms and marble bathing pools, in place of the crude board sheds which rather spoil the natural beauty of this place of many charms, where one may bathe in the hot springs pool, fish in the river, wine, dine and dance! What more could the soul in exile wish for?

If you wish for seclusion, seek a tranquil spot on the banks of the river; dream to your heart's content, watch the silvery moonbeams play among the branches and sparkle on the river, and listen to the sighing of the summer wind. I know of no place near New York endowed with so many of nature's charms.

Fishing in the river is good, but fishing in the mountain brooks and streams is much better, and one can take a pack-horse, ride up over the mountains and discover places which look as though they dropped right out of a picture book.

Rubicon Springs is such a place; a quaint old hunting and fishing camp, where a few nature lovers hide away from; the world every summer and really "rough it." I caught there some of the finest mountain trout I have even seen; I also saw a party of men bring in a very fine deer one afternoon, a feat which caused quite a little excitement among the guests.

This isolated spot cannot be reached by automobile, it being about fifteen miles from the main road over a rugged mountain trail.

There is certainly everything to be wished for in the way of out-of- door amusements in and near Reno. There besides motoring, riding, fishing, hunting, swimming and dancing are the tennis courts and the golf links. The Golf Club gives many interesting tournaments and is one of the social centers in summer for the elite, as is the race track where one may meet the world and its wife. The track is good and the horses as fine as one can see anywhere, all of which helps to render this sport most fascinating.

[Illustration: LOVER'S LEAP BLUE CANYON]

Talking of horses reminds me of one of my never-to-be-forgotten rides to Laughton Springs. Those who have never seen a Nevada sunset, while riding over the Sierras at the close of day, can have no conception of its wondrous beauty. I will try to tell you about it.

We started one evening at a brisk canter over the swelling foot hills along the Truckee River, whence we could see Mt. Rose lift its stately head, clothed in royal robes of crimson and purple which half revealed and half concealed its snow-capped peaks and pine-clad grandeur.

As we rode over the mountains which tower above the rivers and the greenest valleys, a storm came up; storm clouds dark and threatening, the most imposing I have ever seen. In a short while the storm passed over and the last rays of the setting sun shone on three mountain peaks across the river and valley. It is impossible to imagine a more exquisite display of colors. I think it must have been like the light that shines on a happy mother's face when she holds her love-child in her arms. And then a rainbow encircled the illuminated mountains, like a beautiful filmy halo about the head of the Madonna, while beneath lay the Truckee; its water like silvery veins and sparkling gems, glistening and trembling in the golden light. And stretching away to the north and east lay the sagebrush plains, wrapped in the silence of a dying day and illuminated with the sheen of God's promise of a to- morrow to come….. A wonderful picture: Nature's own masterpiece!

The motor trips are the next in line of outdoor amusements and these trips will afford one the splendid opportunity of seeing, apart from the unexcelled scenery, the numerous places of interest. First, Carson City, the Capital; the State Penitentiary and the Government Indian School, also the Indian homes and reservations; you will find them all interesting. Carson City was founded in 1858 and was named after Kit Carson, the famous scout. The capital is thirty miles from Reno, fourteen miles from Lake Tahoe and twenty-two from Virginia City.

[Illustration: TRUCKEE RIVER CANYON]

The elevation of Virginia City is six thousand feet above sea level. There you may don skin garments and go down three thousand feet in a mine on the famous Comstock Lode. The heat in some of the mines is so intense it is impossible to stand it for more than a few minutes at a time.

There is so much of interest in these famous old mining camps and in the strange freaks of nature. Here are the numerous hot springs and Pyramid Lake, an enormous body of water forty miles out in the desert, which possesses no apparent outlet although the Truckee flows into it. And apart from that, the development of agriculture and irrigation is interesting.

I will try and describe some of my motor trips through Nevada and
California.

One fine Sunday we set out on an automobile trip to Virginia City over the great Gieger Grade, which has become so famous through the wonderful Comstock Lode from which over seven hundred millions in gold and silver have been extracted. The ride was most exciting, and the magnificent scenes unrolling themselves continuously upon each swerve round a sharp curve or a dangerous bend, just held us all enthralled.

Often I was reminded of Switzerland, and then as I gazed, more and more enraptured by the delirious orgy of multi-colored hues, and looked at the precipitous ascent we had made; at the heights we had yet to climb, and at the undulating peaks that stood like an army of sentinels guarding us on every side, I forgot I was in the land of Nevada. I had drifted into an Arabian Night reverie, and not till the forty horse-power winged horse suddenly lost its equilibrium and gave a most ungainly lurch, not till then did I redescend to earth. While the incapacitated horse partook of first aid to the injured, I got out and gathered some of the prettiest little flowers I have ever seen; all the more marvelous because nature takes care of them in some mysterious way which we cannot understand, since rain is practically unknown in Nevada. There was the beautiful spotless desert lily; the delicate desert violet, the fascinating yellow blossom of the pungent native growth—the sagebrush—and many others.

[Illustration: OFF TO DONNER LAKE picture shows a dogsled team]

My next motor trip was from Los Angeles to Santa Barbara; there the scenery compares with that of Nevada as an exquisite water color compares to a grand old oil painting. We went spinning along over a perfect road from Los Angeles to Santa Barbara, and I felt that America might well be proud of this wonderful state. Surely none other possesses such a variety of climate, or such a variety of beauty. Hardly do I dare attempt a description of all this magic scenery. It seemed a dream to me; just color everywhere. Green valleys and turquoise skies; snow-capped mountains and rosy sunsets. For many miles we wound round and round the mountain side, through orange groves, laden with golden fruit, tucked away in the emerald green foliage, and fruit orchards abounding with spring blossoms. And then we came to the Pacific Ocean which stretched far out into the infinite, reflecting the rose-colored sky just at sunset. The dream of it all is still with me. I could hardly realize that a week before I had been flying through the pure white sparkling snow in the same state; and yet, here I was only a few hours away…. One sojourning in Reno should not miss a trip through California while in the neighborhood of that glorious state. San Francisco is only a day's journey by rail, and the trip is truly worth while.

Reno is not without its out-door winter sports; it has the advantage of being only thirty-six miles from Truckee, California. While flowers are blooming and birds singing their spring songs in Southern California, the Snow Queen reigns at Truckee in the mountains, six thousand feet above the sea. Here people from San Francisco and other large cities gather to indulge in winter sports, such as skiing, tobogganing and sleighing, and many professionals go there to display their art in skiing and skating; the Switzerland of the West, I would call it. It was all too fascinating and too beautiful: six feet of snow everywhere, and everything sparkling white in the sunshine.

[Illustration: AMID THE SNOW AT TRUCKEE, CALIFORNIA illustration shows a dogsled team]

Once I started out to see Donner Lake, which reposes between Summit, the highest point on this trip across the Great Divide, and Truckee. We were in a sleigh drawn by a team of huskies: real Alaskan dogs. I have ridden pretty much everything from a broomstick to a bronco, but this was my first experience with huskies. I thought it was going to be hard work for the dogs, but they frolicked about in the snow with their pink tongues out, showing all their teeth as though they were laughing in fiendish glee and enjoying every moment of it.

Truckee is only about thirty-three miles from Reno by automobile, and the distance by train is thirty-six miles, so there should be no excuse for not visiting this American Switzerland.

Another point of information which I discovered and think will interest you quite as much as it did me, was that most all the great moving picture companies go to Truckee to take their Alaskan scenes. And now whenever you see a beautiful arctic picture on the screen, you will realize that you are not looking at the frigid regions of Alaska, but at the glories of California.

The Snow Queen knows, however, that when she tires of her realm of snow, a really, truly fairy land awaits her only a few hours distant, where she may play Fairy Queen and wander through fields of golden poppies, filling her arms with spring blooms, in beautiful Southern California.

In Reno itself moonlight skating parties on the river and the
University pond are popular also. Dull in Reno? Absurd!

Nevada is necessarily a mining state. Apart from the $700,000,000 in gold and silver taken from the Comstock Lode, Nevada's mines have supplied the world with thousands of tons of other materials, such as lead, zinc, etc., and thus when one thinks of the industries in Nevada, it is quite natural to think of mining first. There it is in the air. Everywhere you are confronted with specimens of ore: in the offices of mining companies, in your lawyer's office, on the doctor's desk, on your friend's dressing table, next to the Bible in the minister's home. A chubby baby will gurgle and coo over a piece of this polished rock, and hold it in a little pink fist; old, white haired men will feebly finger a rough specimen streaked with green and amber. The spell of Nevada…..

Walk out over the desert or ride over the hills, and as far as you can see, the sides of the mountains are perforated with holes made by prospectors; thousands and thousands of them, every one representing a hope. A promoter will take a piece of this beautifully colored rock and explain to you about the percentage of gold or copper it contains, the cost of extracting it and the enormous profits to be made; a friend will show you a marvelous specimen and explain that he or she owns a half interest in the claim which is sure to turn out at least half a million….. Then you will perhaps think of Robert Service's "Spell of the Yukon" and you will understand the enthusiasm and spirit of optimism.

After all, why should they not be enthusiastic and optimistic? The whole state is piled high with mountains which look just like the ones in which so much gold and other valuable minerals have been discovered; if they are the same on top, why are they not the same below the surface?

Tell us, you opal colored mountains of Nevada, what stores of precious treasures are you guarding from the greedy hand of man and how soon will you throw open another door of your treasure house?

After having lived in the West and visited the mines and talked with the old-timers, I can easily understand the fascination of prospecting and mining, and why, in spite of all the hardships it entails, so many have become enslaved by the spell of it.

The Crystal Saloon, at Virginia City, was built during the days of the
first great boom, and on its register are many names of famous people.
Under the year 1863, I saw written the following: "Clemens, Samuel L.,
Local Editor of Territorial Enterprise…" Mark Twain!

The old-timers will tell you stories about Mark Twain's adventures in Nevada's mining camps almost as funny as those he himself wrote about in his book "Roughing It."

In the register of the Washoe Club, organized in 1875, are the name of Thomas A. Edison, Fred. Grant (son of General Grant), and many other famous names.

[Illustration: Donner Lake]

I have been informed of a new discovery in connection with the native plant, the sage-brush. I am told there are splendid prospects for the development of potash and denatured alcohol from the huge sagebrush fields of the state.

The principal business of Reno consists of banks, hotels, shops and restaurants. The shops do the city credit; they are up-to-date and well kept, and you will find almost every kind of shop. The electrical stores display every new electrical device on the market. The stationery shops are equally well equipped; the candy stores most tempting and excellent in every way, and the music store, hardware, drug, corsetiere, gents furnishing, shoe, fancy goods and department stores, the hair dressing parlors and florist shops are all up-to-date and as fine as you could find in any city twice Reno's size. The grocery stores and butcher shops and markets are of the finest. These places employ hundreds of people and the department stores send their buyers to New York and Paris.

Reno has two daily papers, namely, the "Evening Gazette" and the "Nevada Journal." The "Nevada Journal" belongs to the Associated Press and has its private telegraph wires by which it receives the news direct.

The hotels and apartment houses are always well filled. They are up- to-date, well kept and flourishing; the cafes are constantly being enlarged. The real estate business is also progressive; one may rent splendidly furnished houses, or modest cottages, or apartments at very fair prices. There I first saw the automatic elevator, the kind that you ring for and that runs down by itself and opens its own door; then you get in, press a button at the number you wish to get off at, and the elevator runs itself up to the floor indicated, stops and opens its door. The same apartments have beds that fold up automatically into the wall, leaving nothing in evidence except a beautifully paneled mirror.

The Reno Commercial Club, which was founded in 1907, is made up of a body of the representative men of the state, who are organized to encourage educational and social intercourse, and to aid in social and material up-building of the city and state.

Its executive board is as follows: Charles S. Knight, H. H. Kennedy,
Tasker L. Oddie, B. Adams, Fred Stadtmuller, R. L. Kimmel, E. H.
Walker.

The Club's efforts are continually directed toward the encouragement of new enterprises, the securing of capital for new industries and investments; the dissemination of literature regarding the resources of Nevada; the building of good roads and cooperation with other states for a national highway; the immigration of settlers upon the agricultural lands of the state, more intensive farming, expansion of dairy interests, fruit growing and other agricultural industries.

The Commercial Club is always obliging in extending the courtesy of its information bureaus in matters pertaining to the affairs of the city or state. Write to it!

Nevada has made very broad strides in the direction of agriculture owing to its irrigation development. The Easterners somehow have an idea that Nevada has made very little progress since pre-historic days; that the West is still wild and wooly and consists of cow-boys, cattle ranches and rattle-snakes; but this impression is very erroneous. The picturesque cow-boy is practically a thing of the past, and so is the highwayman; the picturesque stage-coach with its four to six teams is almost forgotten; and I did not see one rattle-snake during all my exploits in the mountains and over the deserts. What has become of all those historic things which we so closely linked with the wild and woolly West of the past? They have retreated into oblivion before the great wheel of progress…..

It is a mistaken idea to imagine that because Nevada is such a mountainous country it is unsuitable for agriculture. There are many broad green valleys, flourishing and producing splendid farm products. This of course is the astonishing result of artificial methods of irrigation. Alfalfa and potatoes are Nevada's greatest crop; wheat, rye, oats and other cereals are also grown. Some of the ranches have splendid orchards consisting of pears, apples, plums, cherries, etc., and the production will undoubtedly increase as greater irrigation developments are introduced.

[Illustration: Trucker River Dam]

What irrigation will do for the parched deserts of the West remains as yet to be seen, but when I stop to consider that all the famous spots of California owe their beauty almost entirely to irrigation, then I dare predict great things for the desert states.

In a 1918 issue of the United States Geographical Survey Press Bulletin is an article which is particularly interesting for the possibilities it suggests at once to the reader for the utilization of waters. It reads as follows: "'Underground Water in Nevada Deserts.'

"In Nevada the bedrock forms a corrugated surface consisting of more or less parallel mountain ranges and broad intervening troughs that are filled to great depths with rock waste washed from the mountains. These great deposits of rock waste were in large part laid down by torrential streams and are relatively coarse and porous. Because these deposits are porous the rain that falls upon them and the run-off that reaches them from the mountains sinks into them, and the valleys in which they lie are exceptionally arid. These deposits, however, form huge reservoirs in which the water is stored and in which, to the limit of the capacity of the reservoirs, it is protected from evaporation. So well is this water hidden that its existence was not suspected by many of the early travelers, and even today long desert roads on which there are no watering places, lead over areas where ground-water could easily be obtained.

"In a desert valley, even where no wells have been sunk, it is generally possible to ascertain and outline the areas where ground water lies near the surface and to make an intelligent forecast of the depths to water in other parts of the valley. If a sufficient number of observations are made, it is also generally possible to form a rough estimate of the quantity of water that is annually available in such a valley and to predict to some extent the capacity of wells, the quality of the water, and the cost of recovery."

To anyone familiar with Nevada, there are dozens of such desert reaches which must instantly suggest themselves to the mind, and it is interesting to speculate, not altogether idly, on how advantage might be taken of such conditions. The Bulletin particularly speaks of one of these areas:

"In an investigation recently made by O. E. Meinzer, of the United States Geological Survey of the Department of the Interior, in Big Smokey Valley and adjacent area near Tonopah, Nev., the character of the vegetation and other surface criteria show that the ground-water stands within ten feet of the surface over an area of 130,000 acres. The measurements made indicate that tens of thousands of acre feet of water are annually contributed by mountain streams and by rainfall to the underground reservoir, and that about the same quantity of ground- water is annually discharged into the atmosphere through the soil and the plants in the shallow water areas. It was estimated that in an area of 240,000 acres the ground-water lies within 50 feet of the surface and that in an area of 335,000 acres it lies within 100 feet of the surface. Detailed maps were made showing the location and extent of these areas."

Nevada, because of its peculiar geographical and climatological situation, will always need to irrigate its land to produce crops. Where irrigation waters are available, the soil has proved abundantly fertile, but Nevada has been handicapped by a lack of water for these very soils which would be capable of producing the best crops.

If, perhaps, underlying those fertile though now arid areas there is such a reservoir of untapped waters as the Bulletin describes, there must instantly occur to the mind the question: "Cannot these waters be made available?"

Elsewhere in Nevada great arid areas have been reclaimed by tapping such underground reservoirs and raising the waters to the surface for irrigation purposes with gasoline motors, where they have not flowed of their own accord, in artesian wells. Nevada has not ventured far into this field because it has not felt the necessity. But why wait on necessity? Why should not Nevada attempt to reach this water? It could easily do so and so add much valuable fertility to the state's already important resources.

Of course, if these new irrigation resources of the state were to become sufficiently utilized, then there would seem no reason why Nevada should not be one of our best agricultural states.

The Truckee River is a splendid asset to Reno. Fed by the eternal snows of the Sierra Nevadas, with a fall of 2,442 feet between Lake Tahoe and Pyramid Lake, it affords a water power equalled by few rivers in the U. S. A. Its power plants now supply light and power for all near-by mines; Mason Valley, Youngton, Virginia City and the Comstock Lode; yet these power stations do not generate one-tenth of the power that could be obtained. It is said that it would easily be possible to develop 40,000 horse-power within five miles of Reno.

This means that Reno has great advantages as an industrial center, and as water power is known to be low in cost and as there is an immense quantity of iron ore in the state, it might eventually be considered a fine place to manufacture war supplies, especially for use on the Pacific Coast.

The Southern Pacific Shops are at Sparkes near Reno and are of great advantage to Reno merchants. These shops do the general repair work of the Salt Lake Division of the Southern Pacific; they employ between five and six hundred men at an approximate payroll of $125,000 per month.

The Verdi Lumber Company near Reno employs from 350 to 400 men in its mills, box factories and logging camps, at a monthly payroll of approximately $25,000.

In addition to these industries there are the Reno and Riverside mills, and large stock yards and packing houses. Nevada is a noted stock growing state for great droves of sheep, hogs and cattle; Nevada's beef is famous throughout the United States.

Reno, as well as all Nevada, is proud of the world-famous Wingfield racing stables, and not without reason. Mr. George Wingfield is a great connoisseur of horseflesh and has spared neither pains nor expense in order to add the best thoroughbreds to his stock. Even as I write, the news reaches me that an expert has left for England to purchase for Mr. Wingfield four mares and a stud, Atheling, a great English favorite.

[Illustration: Honeywood of the Wingfield Stables]

At present Mr. Wingfield has in his stables about 75 horses. I had the privilege of visiting them some time ago, and made the acquaintance of some of his prize yearlings. They were wonderful animals, just as fine as any I have ever seen, and I think I know and understand horses pretty well. There is one, Honeywood, a beautiful stallion, who was the winner of the Cambridgeshire stakes at Newmarket, England, in 1911. I don't think I have ever seen a more beautiful animal.

The fact to be deplored is that the Federal and State Legislatures are not taking sufficient interest in the reforestation of Nevada; they should enforce the planting of two or three trees for every one that is felled. I believe some such law is now in force in the state of Washington and elsewhere. Near the big mining camps in Nevada around Reno, the mountains have been literally stripped of all their trees in the development of the mining industries. It has been a case of: "All Take and No Give."

And now we come to "Divorce" which, if not actually an industry, can all the same easily pass for one, for there is no doubt but that the influx of prospective divorcees, of both sexes, contributes a goodly portion toward the financial welfare of Reno. Not only do hotels, restaurants, cafes and shops reap an abundant harvest from the luxury- loving wealthy colony, but even real estate prospers, as many "aspirants" rent cottages for the "season."

Lawyers are kept busy all the time; the banks are opening new accounts for every patient who comes to town, and therefore on more mature consideration, why should we not call it the "Divorce Industry"?

After all, what's in a name?

[Illustration: Views of Reno's Public Play Grounds]