HE robin roosting in a cedar thicket does not know that Walter G. Campbell protects him from sudden death at the hands of the pot hunter. The cow, taking a long trip by train, does not know that Campbell is responsible for her getting off the train at least once in twenty-eight hours, eating, drinking, and having room to move around for the space of five hours. And the woman putting the roast to parboil on the gas range in the ninth floor back of a city tenement-house or on the first floor of a city palace, for that matterdoes not know that Campbell has guaranteed, with the United States Government back of the guaranty, the wholesomeness of the meat she is preparing to feed to her family. In short, about ninety-nine out of every one hundred persons in the United States never heard the name of this Campbell, know nothing about him.

But there are some who do know. The food or drug manufacturer, for instance, jolly well knows that it is Walter G. Campbell who will land him in jail and confiscate his goods if he puts out an impure article or brands his product as anything it is not. The speculator, dreaming of a million to be made in cotton futures in Wall Street, knows it is Campbell who will get him if he trades. unfairly.

Let me introduce Mr. Walter G. Campbell. He is a Government worker of about middling rank. In his own Department-that of Agriculture-there are two men who outrank him and four who rank with him. His title is Director of Regulatory Work. He enforces forty-four Federal laws. I think the number is forty-four. It was the last time I checked up on it, but enforcement jobs are loaded on Campbell's shoulders. with such frequency that even if I checked up to-day I could not guarantee the accuracy of the figures when this article is printed. And those laws are of such importance that, I believe, every family is affected by one or another of them every day.

(C) Underwood

W. M. Jardine, Secretary of Agriculture

number of people-not farmers and farm families merely, but all classes of people, for not an inch more than half its work has to do directly with agriculture.

That last statement may require proof. The proof lies in a question-How big is a community? Of course, there is no answer. No two are the same size. But suppose we say that the average community would be four miles square would contain sixteen square miles. On that basis there would be 225,000 communities in the United States. And the

number of Department of Agriculture workers scattered throughout the country is sufficient to place one of them in each of these communities, with some 10,000 left over for roving commissions. This hypothetical situation does not differ greatly from the actual situation. Practically, there is a representative of the Department of Agriculture in every community, both rural and urban, with some odd thousands of traveling repre

HO are they, this force that al doubles our standing army, how do they affect other than pu agricultural communities?

We may pass over as pure ruralites thousands of crop reporters, though effect of their work is felt on every bo of trade. But we cannot thus handle other thousands of weather observers, they are as likely to have their gauges on top of city sky-scrapers as barns. We may pass over the f demonstration agents, who instruct farmer in his fields, but we may not over the home demonstration agents, they help the woman in the clo kitchen of the city apartment equa with the woman in the spacious kitc of the farm. And there are whole clas of employees who are entirely city dw ers. There are the inspectors on duty all of the meat-packing plants wh products go into inter-State comme There are market inspectors of vari kinds, cotton classers, grain grad port inspectors. No place in the Uni States is so completely urban as to ha in it no official agricultural workers, a no place is so remote or so rugged as be without them. Those parts of Rocky Mountains where no crops grown and where no cities are-for rangers tramp their rugged ridges ev day. Those little spits of sand and th sinuous bars far off the coasts, ban and awash with salt waves-birds there whose carcasses or plumage coveted, and so the pot hunter is the and so, also, is the game warden wh duty it is to enforce the Migratory Bi Treaty Act. Those long border reach where nothing grows but almost imper trable thickets of chaparral-but greaser may choose that as the place slipping into the United States, a pill of unginned cotton under his arm a larvæ of the pink boll-worm in the c tonseed. And so a plant quarantine cer is there to meet him.

There is no place in the United Stat where the workers of the Department Agriculture do not go. But we need follow them in their important, ofte romantic, not infrequently hazardou occupations. Having shown that the

wing Galloway

tivities affect all classes of people, we ay return to Washington, where all of ne work "heads up" on the desks of ome four thousand employees who make p what is commonly thought of as the Department of Agriculture.

There are in the Department twentyNo bureaus-no less bureaus because ne is called "service," another "board," nother "office." This is more than wice as many bureaus as any other deartment has. Many of them are purely gricultural in their nature such, for inance, as the Bureaus of Animal Indusy, Plant Industry, Dairying. Some are gricultural only in a secondary sense of e word-such as the Forest Service. me serve agriculture no whit more tan they serve industry and commerce -such as the Weather Bureau and the ureau of Public Roads. Some, like the ureau of Entomology and the Bureau Biological Survey, have to do with incts and animals, good and bad, whose inistrations and depredations help or art all classes of people pretty much the me. There is one, that of Agricultural conomics, which is purely a business ureau, and, while it approaches business

has been authorized by Congress

essential similarity-that all of them are engaged in research work along scientific lines. Among most of them there is one other similarity. They have regulatory duties. Laws, enacted by Congress, are given into their hands for enforcement. Many of them have also educational functions. In some the research feature predominates, in others the regulatory, in still others the educational. One, the Fixed Nitrogen Research Laboratory, has a single definite scientific problem to solve, and has no other duties. Others, such as the Packers and Stockyards Administration and the Grain Futures Administration, have each a single law to administer. One, the Office of Cooperative Extension Work, has as its sole duty the carrying to the public of the knowledge gained by the research bu

reaus.

Here is, perhaps, the most colossal aggregation in the whole world of governmental machinery engineered by a single man. There are other machines as big, but they are single machines, their wheels revolving for the most part in the same direction. This is a collection of machines designed for a diversity of

Yet truthful men who are in intimate touch with him vouch for the fact that Secretary Jardine does not sign, on the average, more than ten letters a day. The mail from the Department of Agriculture bulks so large as to have been for years the despair of the postal service, as to have inspired in the minds of Congressmen and others plans for revoking the franking privilege and by some means making the Department pay the postage on its letters. Almost innumerable letters touching the work of all of the twenty-two bureaus are addressed to the Secretary. In the article of this series treating of the work of the White House mention was made of the great flood of letters addressed to the President but shunted out through the various chutes to the executive departments. Perhaps a fifth of all these letters are shunted to the Secretary of Agriculture. And he writes or, at least, signs-ten letters a day.

This astounding economy of executive energy is possible because there is a double hook-up between the bureaus and the Secretary.

HE chiefs of bureaus and the direc

TH

usiness. There is one, the Bureau of Come Economics, which is purely a ome-making bureau, functioning hardly ore for the farm than for the city

ome.

So widely does the work of these buaus range that between some of them here is no similarity, except this single

of the Secretary of Agriculture, all stopped and started and speeded up and slowed down by a single hand.

are sifted down, sift them still further down the line to their division and section chiefs, and, finally, the greater part of the four thousand workers in Washington have a part in answering the letters whose writers expected replies from the Secretary of Agriculture. Mostly

they are better written than if the Secretary had written them himself-not that the four thousand men and women are better letter writers than Mr. Jardine, but that they are specialists on almost four thousand phases of the Department's work and have devoted their lives each to his or her own specialty.

The bureau chiefs are, in a large way, the powers of the Department of Agriculture-impregnable fortresses, it has sometimes been thought. Mostly, they are men who have come up from the ranks through long service in the various bureaus. Dr. L. O. Howard, Chief of the Bureau of Entomology, has been in that Bureau for forty-seven years. Dr. E. W. Nelson, Chief of the Bureau of Biological Survey, has been with that Bureau for thirty-six years, and for fortyeight years he has been in the same line of work. Other chiefs have not served quite so long, but, with possibly two exceptions, they have been for long periods in the Department. Most of them have personally trained their key men. A chief is a Civil Service employee, not ordinarily subject to removal. When a man attains to a chiefship, he ordinarily settles into it for life, because it is the work to which he had long before dedicated his life. He lays out a program that will require a lifetime to carry out, proceeds to carry it out, and is not much swerved from it by Secretaries or Congresses or even Presidents. Congress has sometimes threatened to interrupt their programs by cutting off their appropriations, but no such threat has ever been carried out. The chiefs are big chiefs; but they are not always invincible chiefs, as Secretary Jardine proved when he sent Dr. H. C. Taylor packing from the Bureau of Agricultural Economics.

That is an unpleasant duty now well behind the Secretary of Agriculture. With the twenty-two chiefs now on the jobs he works in the closest sort of cooperation. Secretary Jardine realizesas not all Secretaries have realized- -that no one man can be a specialist in all branches of human knowledge, or even of agricultural knowledge. He could himself qualify as a specialist in agronomy and, to a lesser degree, in economics. But he leaves the specialties to the specialists who have grown up with them in the Department.

T

a set of men who might be called specialists on specialties. There are five of them the Director of Scientific Work, the Director of Regulatory Work, the Director of Extension Work, the Director of Information, and the Director of Personnel and Business Administration. They rank in departmental organization next to the Assistant Secretary, and in actual significance of work performed are decidedly more important. The position of Assistant Secretary of Agriculture has frequently been, more than any other in the Government, similar to that of VicePresident. Only occasionally, when a man of exceptional personality held the position, has it performed a distinctive service.

The directors of work are the real administrators between the Secretary and

way somewhat wrong. Those wh not believe in those things say it way eminently practical.

Secretary Jardine has been sind came into the position energetically ing to put himself in touch with the problems, and the key men in agricu

and in other lines of work that aid agriculture—and then to attack cific problems in a definite way. 1 in endless, and almost ceaseless, co ence with the specialists in his own partment. But he is in almost ceas consultation, too, with every-day pe His effort is, not to work out a sol himself, and then try to make peopl cept it, but to work out with the p concerned a plan that will meet needs and be acceptable to them.

W

HEN Mr. Houston was Secretary of Agriculture, the real beginning was made toward the development of that now elaborate machinery for assisting the farmers to market their products to the best advantage. Mr. Houston called it "the other half of agriculture." Up to that time practically the whole effort had been along the line of assisting the farmer to raise bigger animals and get larger yields from his fields.

about the time that emphasis began to be placed on "the other half of agriculture" somebody in the Department-I have always egotistically believed that it was I said that making two blades of grass to grow where one grew before is a fine sentiment but mighty poor agriculture, unless there is a market for the second blade.

That matter of finding the market for the second blade or, failing that, of preventing the growing of the second blade 'HE other half of the double hook-up is to-day the bigger part of the job of the may be even more important than Secretary of Agriculture. Mr. Jardine that with the chiefs in conserving the has approached it in a way somewhat energy of the Secretary and leaving him, new. Those who believe in Government as much as may be, free to devote his price fixing, Government regulation of attention to questions of policy. production, Government-controlled exThe second half of the hook-up is with port corporations, and the like say it is a port corporations, and the like say it is a

ERE is an example of the way dine works."

When the frost had just begun t on the pumpkin and the fodder was wholly in the shock, it became a ma of common knowledge that the growers of Iowa were ruined by I perity. While the crop in many sect of the country was hard hit by drou nature had showered a bountiful cro Iowa. There was not too much o but too large a proportion of it wa Iowa. The price slumped. Unless farmers could get money to tide t over while they held their corn for derly marketing, they were ruined. the banks of Iowa were not able to vance the money, though they, a with the farmers, faced ruin if the was dumped on the market.

Secretary Jardine sent a man from own Department and one from the 1 eral Reserve Board out to Iowa to vestigate. They came back to Wash ton and reported the situation as t found it as it is briefly outlined in preceding paragraph. The Secre consulted with his specialists. He h miniature conference with officials of Treasury and of the Federal Res Board. Then he called a conference be held in Chicago, of farmers, bank Federal officials, and others interes Two credit associations were organi under the provisions of the Intermed Credit Act, financed by money from side of Iowa, for assisting the growers of Iowa to hold their corn the market should be ready to take an orderly manner.

Within ten days after the return of two investigators from Iowa the c associations were in operation.

There is plenty of work for a Se tary of Agriculture to do even when signs only ten letters a day.

W

WHILE I was in Yellowstone Park at the latter end of July, 1925, I halted at Camp osevelt long enough to write the series articles upon the international conence at Honolulu which have already beared in The Outlook. The place is med Camp Roosevelt because near John Burroughs and Theodore Rooset' made their camp in the month of ril, 1903. It is a location of great erest and charm, with a wide view of Yellowstone hills and sky.

The

companion of his thoughts

spirit of the dynamic President still abides about the camp. The wrangler, the rangers, the managers, and many of the guests are the sort of persons who like the way Roosevelt did things. They are his kind. The first night I was there the whole crowd gathered around the fireplace and insisted upon hearing all I had to say about his life and qualities. I think they squeezed everybody dry on this theme who ever knew him at all.

The camp is made up of a long central room, with a big fireplace at each

end, where the guests foregather socially and take their meals; and each guest has his own tent or log cabin outside, in lines radiating from the main building. Down where I slept, at the end of the line, it was so quiet after night fell that I know now what Whittier meant by "the silence of eternity." I think nothing snores or peeps or barks or cries up in that country after dark. While I was at the camp I heard that Jimmie McBride, the guide of John Burroughs and President Roosevelt in 1903, was still living the life of a

ranger recluse about fifteen or twenty miles up in the hills, and was an interesting character in himself and devoted to the memory of his friend Teddy. So I asked the superintendent of the Park to have him come down. He met us by arrangement one morning on one of the trout streams half-way, and I let the others fish while I talked with Jimmie. He hadn't been down out of the hills for two months. He lives alone, and likes it. He is now in the sixties-a shrewd blueeyed Irishman with high-pitched voice, still clear-visioned and sturdy. He was once an Indian fighter on the plains.

W

HEN Roosevelt and Burroughs came to the Park in 1903, McBride was the Chief Ranger. Roosevelt had seen him once the year before. The President came in on the first train that ever ran into Gardner, and not only mounted cavalrymen, majors, and other officers, and scouts, but the Governor of Montana Roosevelt's old friend Carter, afterwards United States Senator-and a considerable part of the population of the State were present. Governor Car

ter is the man of whom Roosevelt used to tell the fetching story of campaigning in Montana, and how, after a political meeting, he and Carter were walking along a narrow wooden sidewalk in the town when a great burly Swede suddenly lurched out of a saloon and began coming down the wooden walk towards them, covering both sides of it. Carter happened to be an Irishman, and Roosevelt, of course, was a Dutchman; and this burly Swede as he rolled along the walk towards them, eventually crowding them off entirely, was singing at the top of his lungs:

Oh, the Irish and the Dutch, They don't amount to much, But hoo-raw for the Scandinoo-vi-oo! Ever thereafter when Roosevelt and Carter met, even in the executive chamber at Washington, they were accustomed to join hands and dance around the room singing this ditty at the top of their voices.

TH

HE day when the Roosevelt party came into Gardner there was such a crush around the train that nobody could get out of it, and the army officer in control, rather than have the military interfere, called to McBride, who was in the crowd and knew the kind of people he had to deal with, to come up on the platform and try his hand at holding the crowd back. Roosevelt recognized him at once from their acquaintance of the year before, and, with a grin, said: "Hello, Mac! You can get them to

stand back." This started things right for McBride. And then another incident happened which helped. Roosevelt insisted on riding a horse at once, but John Burroughs with some others started forward in a stage-coach. The horses on the coach suddenly bolted as soon as they were started, and ran away. The major called to McBride, who was on horseback, to overtake and stop them, which he promptly did. This evidently attracted Roosevelt's good will also, because presently he said, "Mac, isn't that a herd of mountain sheep up there on that hill?"

McBride said, "Yes, Mr. President, it is."

"I want to see them," said Roosevelt. "Let's go up there by ourselves." And off they rode immediately, and McBride told me that Roosevelt sat down in the midst of the sheep and studied them for an hour and a quarter.

There were two characters among the

velt lived on his ranch. Roos wanted to see him. It took two or t days to get Jones sobered up and fi the prospect, but he finally turned and immediately started the conv tion.

"Well, Teddy, you have got a b of a good job since I saw you last," pulling a flask out of his pocket offered the President a drink.

"No, thank you," said the Presi "Bill, there are a lot of fellows who c fill this job just as well as I can, if could only get the chance. You c long ago have filled a bigger job you have if you had let whisky alon

Bill laughed. "Oh, it tastes pr good, just the same, as it passes d my throat. Say, Teddy," said he, you remember when the buckskin p threw you over the corral fence?"

"Sh-h-h!" said the President. you mustn't give me away like that!

Government scouts who began to look THE driver of the sled on which

green-eyed at McBride. One of them was the "Duke of Hell-Roaring," as he had been named locally, a foreigner with some political pull, who was, I believe, chief of the scouts. Another was "Buffalo Jones." The next morning, when they were starting out for the day, with a considerable crowd around, Roosevelt spied McBride, and called to him:

"Mac, aren't you going along to-day?" And Mac replied, "I don't know, Mr. President. I haven't any orders."

Roosevelt turned to the army officer and said: "I think I would like to have

McBride go along. He seems to know a lot about this country."

All of which was evidently gall and wormwood to the "Duke of Hell-Roaring" and "Buffalo Jones," the latter of whom unwisely threatened McBride with the loss of his job in a tone so loud that Roosevelt caught it. Later, when Roosevelt got an opportunity to do so quietly, he said to McBride, "I see you're in trouble, Mac, already." The President took his time to help in the revenge. "Buffalo Jones" had arranged a mountain-lion party for the President, which turned out unsuccessfully. During the hunt Jones's hounds had been lost in the mountains, and the next morning Roosevelt said to McBride in Jones's hearing: "Mac, I think you had better take a day off and go out and help Jones find his hounds. They couldn't find any lions yesterday, and now Jones can't find the dogs!"

Another Jones, named Bill, was then living in the Park, a man who had been sheriff in South Dakota in the 'eighties of the nineteenth century, when Roose

President was touring some of roads in this month of April died denly during the night. At breakfast army major was quite wrought up al it, and said to McBride: "Now mustn't tell the President. It would set him and spoil his trip."

"Well, Major, I think there'll be to pay if we don't tell him and he fi it out," said McBride.

There was a door swinging into other room in which the President eating his breakfast, and he caught a of the conversation.

"What's the trouble, Mac?" he cal Mac told him, and the President up immediately from the table. "Th tough," said he. "The most we can is to pay our respects to him." And walked half a mile in snow up to his l to the house. Then he took Mac a and said: "Mac, go with the body Gardner, and find out about his relati and where the body is to be shipp and, whatever the cost of it is, send bill to me, and don't say anything anybody about it."

Up in the canyon Mac and the Pr dent put on skis together. The Presid said, "I can beat you in a race!" a they started down the incline. At first jump the weight of the Presid smashed his pair of skis to pieces. T led Roosevelt to ask how many pairs skis they had up there in the winter the rangers and the scouts. Looking the matter, they found they had w few, not enough to go around. "W I'll see how much influence I have w this Administration," said the Preside And every fall thereafter, as long as