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{ } heart was fathomlessly deep, long acquainted with humility, patience, sacrifice. His little home amid the roses was austerely simple; he knew the worthlessness of luxury, the joy of few possessions. The modesty with which he wore his scientific fame repeatedly reminded me of the trees that bend low with the burden of ripening fruits; it is the barren tree that lifts its head high in an empty boast. I was in New York when, in 1926, my dear passed away. In tears I thought, 'Oh, I would gladly walk all the way from here to Santa Rosa for one more glimpse of him!' Locking myself away from secretaries and visitors, I spent the next twenty-four hours in seclusion... name has now passed into the heritage of common speech. Listing 'burbank' as a transitive verb, Webster's New International Dictionary defines it: 'To cross or graft (a plant). Hence, figuratively, to improve (anything, as a process or institution) by selecting good features and rejecting bad, or by adding good features.' 'Beloved ,' I cried after reading the definition, 'your very name is now a synonym for goodness!
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mourning
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science
friendship
love
burbank
luther-burbank
brotherhood
modesty
new-york
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Paramahansa Yogananda |
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was born in a brick farmhouse in Lancaster Mass, he walked through the woods one winter crunching through the shinycrusted snow stumbling into a little dell where a warm spring was and found the grass green and weeds sprouting and skunk cabbage pushing up a potent thumb, He went home and sat by the stove and read Struggle for Existence Origin of Species Natural Selection that wasn't what they taught in church, so ceased to believe moved to Lunenburg, found a seedball in a potato plant sowed the seed and cashed in on 's Natural Selection on and with the Burbank potato. Young man go west; went to Santa Rosa full of his dream of green grass in winter ever- blooming flowers ever- bearing berries; could cash in on Natural Selection carried his apocalyptic dream of green grass in winter and seedless berries and stoneless plums and thornless roses brambles cactus-- winters were bleak in that bleak brick farmhouse in bleak Massachusetts-- out to sunny Santa Rosa; and he was a sunny old man where roses bloomed all year everblooming everbearing hybrids. America was hybrid America could cash in on Natural Selection. He was an infidel he believed in and Natural Selection and the influence of the mighty dead and a good firm shipper's fruit suitable for canning. He was one of the grand old men until the churches and the congregations got wind that he was an infidel and believed in . had never a thought of evil, selected improved hybrids for America those sunny years in Santa Rosa. But he brushed down a wasp's nest that time; he wouldn't give up and Natural Selection and they stung him and he died puzzled. They buried him under a cedartree. His favorite photograph was of a little tot standing beside a bed of hybrid everblooming double Shasta daisies with never a thought of evil And Mount Shasta in the background, used to be a volcano but they don't have volcanos any more.
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t-h-huxley
thomas-h-huxley
thomas-henry-huxley
thomas-huxley
huxley
herbert-spencer
spencer
luther-burbank
charles-darwin
darwin
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John Dos Passos |