Mr. Burleson is an expert on agricultural matters and was a member of the agricultural committee for two terms. He is also the author of the Cotton Statistics Law, by which the control of the cotton market has been wrested from the stock exchange, and the regulation of prices placed in the hands of the farmers. It is natural and right that this law, so far-reaching in its benefits, should be enacted through the efforts of a representative of our leading cotton state. It is unnecessary to add that Mr. Burleson is possessed of a wonderful persistence and tireless energy which enable him to accomplish everything he undertakes. He takes his politics seriously and he never stops working. He is a forceful debater and makes a dramatic speech, having the eloquence of a man who believes what he says. He is noted not only for this convincing earnestness, but for the absolute accuracy of all his statements and his thorough mastery of every point he presents. He has, withal, a vast store of characteristic Western stories and his jolly wit, coupled with his loyalty to his friends, makes him one of the most popular of congressmen. TRANSITION The rose leaves fall on Summer’s pulsing breast, In crimson showers they’re lightly blown along; The south winds rock the blue bird’s dainty nest Filled to the brim. Glad is the streamlet’s song. An empty nest sways on a leafless bough; Hushed is the gurgling laughter of the stream; And by the garden path a folded rose Shuts closely in its heart an unborn dream. _Beth Slater Whitson._ FOREST FALLS By C. D. Robinson Nature shows her power in the waterfall, just as in the daisy and violet she shows her grace and beauty. One of the several objects of curiosity and admiration to those who visit South Georgia is Forest Falls, near Whigham, a town on the Atlantic Coast Line Railway, in the new county of Grady. A stream of clear, sparkling water rushes over a cliff and falls into a huge sink nearly a hundred feet below, where, instead of flowing on in its precipitated direction, it immediately steals away into the earth as if endowed with life and seeking refuge beneath monstrous rocks and in the depths of a bed of sand washed white by the water’s continual dash in shouts of victory. [Illustration: FOREST FALLS] A few hours at Forest Falls is a midsummer dream whose refreshing delights last indelibly. The walls of the sink are splendid transcendent beauties, robed in richest green, with which nature decks her favorites. The only way to reach the foot of the falls is adown the walls of this immense lime sink by following artificial foot-paths, clinging to trees and roots until the cool, refreshing spray of the falls defies your approach, which defiance is really a temptation on a warm summer day.