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“So you want me to tell you something about the dam?” said Mr. Whitney, smiling at his rodman. The two were sitting on the side of a hill overlooking the construction work several days after Bob had been promoted from the office to the proud position of being the Chief’s aide. He had been on a message to the cofferdam gang and had returned to find the boss seemingly loafing. When he saw there might be a few free moments before he was set to work again he ventured some questions regarding the thing that was of most interest to him. “Indeed there was,” was the answer. “The Indians were the first irrigators. The Pueblo or village Indians, as they were called, while it was in a crude way, irrigated all the land on which they raised corn. They were the first settlers of the Rio Grande Valley. We know this is so, for one of the Spanish Conquistadores, Coronado by name, wrote it down in the record of his travels. When he marched from the south into what is now New Mexico in search of the gold which was the aim and hope of all the adventurers of his time, he found the Indians irrigating the land by means of crude ditches dug with their primitive implements. This was the first record we have, but it has been established beyond any reasonable doubt that such irrigation as he found was practiced here by this river that flows below us long before Columbus discovered America. The theory is that in all probability irrigation along the Rio Grande was in vogue even before the Egyptians used the waters of the Nile for the same purpose. When the first Spanish settlers came along, and later the Americans, they adopted the same methods of making the ground productive as had the Indians. All we have done as time went on is to improve the general principles taken from the savages. Of course, as we made better tools, we have been able to build larger ditches and so increase the area of fertile land far beyond the dreams of the Indians.” One of his neighbours, a lady of rank, had two daughters, who were perfectly beautiful. He proposed to marry one of them, leaving the mother to choose which of the two she would give him. Neither of the daughters, however, would have him, and they sent him from one to the other, each being unable to make up her mind to marry a man with a blue beard. A further reason which they had for disliking him was, that he had already been married several times, and nobody knew what had become of his wives. Blue Beard, in order to improve the acquaintance, took the girls with their mother, three or four of their most intimate friends, and some other young people who resided in the neighbourhood, to one of his country seats, where they spent an entire week. Nothing was thought of but excursions, hunting and fishing-parties, balls, entertainments, suppers; nobody went to bed; the whole night was passed in games and playing merry tricks on one another. In short, all went off so well, that the youngest daughter began to think that the beard of the master of the house was not so blue as it used to be, and that he was a very worthy man. Immediately upon their return to town the marriage took place..

"Oh, what about Dido and her meeting you?"I tried logging in using my phone number and I was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call me instead" option twice but didn't get a call either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call me instead fails.There was "I think we might let her share with us this time," she said gently, and Judith's relief was beautiful to behold.

[77]Their boat was a wreck, they found when they came up to it. The after water-tight compartment was completely stove in. This had caused the stern to sink. Two things, however, were in their favor. The front compartment, in which they had stowed their blankets, extra clothing, matches and the transit, was still intact. Also, as the after compartment had held only their canned eatables, the ducking had not hurt them. Few of the cans had fallen out. “Oh, it’s a Mozambique stamp, Aunt Grenertsen,” explained Johnny Blossom earnestly. “It is awfully rare. There isn’t another one in the whole town, Aunt Grenertsen.” “Do you mean there’s a chance for a dam?” asked Bob. “Captain Wendell already had promised to be on hand for to-morrow night. It was by his help that we expected to hold the lid on. But to get back to Jerry: He had desperate little time to get to the Fort and bring the soldiers back. It was a wonderful ride, but he made it. I only joined the troop on the trail. Jerry had ridden ahead to stop Miguel from blowing up the cofferdam.”.