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Newspaper Page Text
"Oh, Ned!" shivered Nettie, cling
ing the closer to him.
"That was the lesson of my' life,"
pursued the returned wanderer. "I
swore never, to graze-the path of
wrong again. I went west, poor;
thinking of Nettie. I have come back
east rich still . thinking of Nettio.
Uncle Green, can I have her for my
And in the willing, broken assent of
the contrite old man, all the past was
forgotten and the reunited trio saw
only a bright, golden future.
HENRY MILLER, KING OF THE RANGE, ENDING
HIS DAYS IN EXILE FROM EMPIRE HE BUILT
is 'kept in closest seclusion in his
home, under the guardianship of his
daughter and son-in-law, who say
his infirmities demand it. Past the
barrier of servants and silken por
tieres few even of the old cronies of
his active days manage to enter.
Never comes the clink of a vaquero's
spurs, nor the greeting of a saturnine
sheep herder. Hankering for the
sight of tossing horns, he sees only
sleek limousines on the boulevard;
hears only their sirens in place of the
The grizzled old king of the range
is an unhappy exile from the empire
The knowledge that after his pass
ing probably will come the quick dis
memberment of his great domains is
also clouding the old man's waning
Even into the quietude of his well
guarded cloister have filtered rumors
of the growing single tax movement
in the West, of heavier land- tithes
to break up the great holdings in the
Pacific states, bolstering the conser
vation policies which have .already
put Miller's retainers on the defen
sive in many California counties..
It is the handwriting on the wall.
With Henry Miller will pass the
feudalism of the Western range.
BY JACK JUNGMEYER
San Francisco, Cal., March 16.
Never again can the West produuce a
cattle king like Henry Miller, now in
his 85th year. He is the last of his
What was' tolerated and encourag
ed in his day is wrong in this, meas
ured by he new public standards.
His big "M" brand is on too many
acres and too much precious water
for one man's private property in a
The very passion of acquisitive
ness, today still unsatiated despite Ins
millions and vast dominions, has be
come a mockery to the infirm old
monarch because he can no longer
gratify it through personal effort.
For that reason he isn't as con
tented as the poorest of his vaqueros.
He never learned how to play. Had
no time. With ostentation he has lit
tle patience. .No private yachts or
cars, golf or tennis for Henry Miller.
And so, white-haired and sad-eyed,
he has come to lean and unhappy
years of enforced idleness.
At times he tries pathetically to
summon a flash of his old energy; to
have some individual part in the
activities that bear his name. Occa
sionally he orders himself driven to
his abattoirs. Confusedly he stands
and watches the great stream of busi
ness he .has launched roll along, coin
ing gold from beef.
But while his thousands of em
ployes are respectful to the "Old
Boss," .they merely tolerate without
needing him. He is not essential. In
fact, almost in the way.
Except for these rare drives, Miller
SHADES OF CONSISTENCY
It was in the conservatory.
"Won't you let me hug you?" he
"Not here," she replied. ."It
wouldn't be proper.'!
Going out on the dance floor they
engaged in a tango. N. T. World,