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WAITER: "Yaas, sir; dey is two branches of our soldiery. What you see now is got up jes' fo' times o' peace and is styled malicious what we call de raglers is only jes' fo' war."

Uncle Ezek's Wisdom.

A BUSYBODY is an individual who goes about stealing other people's time, and fooling away his own.

THERE is truth enough in existence for a dozen worlds like this, and there are lies enough for fifty.

PITY and water-gruel are much alike, and a man will thrive on one just about as fast as on the other.

THE man whose most ardent admirers are his own family, never amounts to anything in the world.

A MULE is the only creature among the domestic animals who does n't know the difference between praise and abuse.

HAPPINESS is an art, and we have to learn how to be happy, just as we have to learn how to be good.

If we could see ahead as well as we can see behind, most of us would take the back track at once.

TO THE wicked all things are vile.

THERE are few animals that you can trust with

IF a man acts natural he is sure to act honest; his absolute liberty, and fewer men. conscience never made him dishonest.

THE brain thinks, but the heart decides.

UNIFORM politeness is a species of godliness; it may not make a saint of a man, but it makes a lovely

TO BE a successful prude, a woman must be at least sinner. two-thirds a coquette.

FORMS and ceremonies are just as necessary as law and gospel; without them mankind would be no better than an organized mob.

ADVERSITY links all things closer. Who ever heard of a beggar advertising for a lost dog?

Uncle Ezek.

To Wilding, my Polo-Pony.

My Wilding, I must leave thee!
Does word of parting grieve thee

As it grieves me, thy master, fond, indulgent,
Who see the softness in thine eye refulgent

And think a thousand thoughts are dreaming there As like my thoughts as love is like love's prayer?

How passing true thou art to me

Thy whinnyings apart to me

Make clear. Thy kissing breath upon my cheek
Is warm as June-time love, that needs not speak
To set the heart that beateth true a-bloom-
To stir the sense to quaff the day's perfume.

Thou art a pretty fellow :

Thy brilliant chestnut-yellow

Shines like a changing silk; the driven snows
Have stained thy foot and striped thy Roman nose;
A-top the neck thy bristling mane doth curve,
And every muscle shown doth seem a nerve.

And every step or motion

Gives those who see a notion

Of Pegasus. Thou needest not his wings:
Thy dainty limbs were made for flights and flings;
And if thy feet do touch the earth, 't is done
As one would quickly kiss, 'twixt fear and fun.

If some one now a stranger
Drop apples in thy manger,

And fetch thee sugar in his pocket too,

Thou 'It eat - perhaps - and yet to me be true,
Nor let the stranger learn the secret sign
That makes thee lift thy foot and bow so fine.

But when I'm gone, who 'll ride thee,
Caress, or even chide thee?

Will other understand thy playful tricks,
Thy curvetings and antics, bucks and kicks?
Will other let thee shy on loosened rein,

And let thee have thy head o'er every plain?

And who will drive thee, pony,
O'er roughish roads and stony?
Ah, Wilding, cunning rogue, I'll not forget
The day I paid a friend a friendly debt

And loaned thee: how thou brokest trace and rein
And, leaving him, sped home to me again!

They say that I'll forget thee
And nevermore will pet thee,

When I have learned to love some maiden fair.
I say that she with thee my love shall share!
If I must love thee less to love her more,
I'll love thee as I love thee now thrice o'er!

I'll see thee in the spring-time, For birds and me the wing-time To take the northward flight. Together then We'll seek the lanes, and run and race again. But, Wilding-pony, I must leave thee now. Farewell! Now whinny, lift thy foot, and bow!

John Eliot Bowen.

"The Lady; or, the Tiger ? "'

HADI been the hero whose fate is unknown,
Do you think I 'd have wavered in doubt?
I'd have opened the doors to both beauty and beast,
Saying, "Ladies, you'll please fight it out!"

Belle A. Mundy.

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His pen,- broad-nibbed and rather stiff,
Like this, or fine? I wonder if
He tried a "Gillott," thirty-nine,
Or used a coarser pen, like mine?

Or was it brains? No ink I know
Will really make ideas flow,
Nor can the most ingenious pen
Make wits and poets of dull men.

So this the miracle explains,

He used his pen and ink with brains.
Mine is the harder task, I think,
To write with only pen and ink.

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THE DE VINNE PRESS, PRINTERS, NEW YORK.

Frank Dempster Sherman.

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THE HE great grazing lands of the West lie in what is known as the arid belt, which stretches from British America on the north to Mexico on the south, through the middle of the United States. It includes New Mexico, part of Arizona, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, and the western portion of Texas, Kansas, Nebraska, and Dakota. It must not be understood by this that more cattle are to be found here than elsewhere, for the contrary is true, it being a fact often lost sight of that the number of cattle raised on the small, thick-lying farms of the fertile Eastern States is actually many times greater than that of those scattered over the vast, barren ranches of the far West; for stock will always be most plentiful in districts where corn and other winter food can be grown. But in this arid belt, and in this arid belt only,- save in a few similar tracts on the Pacific slope,-stock-raising is almost the sole industry, except in the mountain districts where there is mining. The whole region is one vast stretch of grazing country, with only here and there spots of farm-land, in most places there being nothing more like agriculture than is implied in the cutting of some tons of wild hay or the planting of a gar

OLD-STYLE TEXAN COWMAN.

den patch for home use. This is especially true of the northern portion of the region, which comprises the basin of the Upper Missouri, and with which alone I am familiar. Here there are no fences to speak of, and all the land north of the Black Hills and the Big Horn Mountains and between the Rockies and the Dakota wheat-fields might be spoken of as one gigantic, unbroken pasture, where cowboys and branding-irons take the place of fences.

The country throughout this great Upper Missouri basin has a wonderful sameness of character; and the rest of the arid belt, lying to the southward, is closely akin to it in its main features. A traveler seeing it for the first time is especially struck by its look of parched, barren desolation; he can with difficulty believe that it will support cattle at all. It is a region of light rainfall; the grass is short and comparatively scanty; there is no timber except along the beds of the streams, and in many places there are alkali deserts where nothing grows but sage-brush and cactus. Now the land stretches out into level, seemingly endless plains or into rolling prairies; again it is broken by abrupt hills and deep, winding valleys; or else it is crossed by chains of buttes, usually bare, but often clad with a dense growth of dwarfed pines or gnarled, stunted cedars. The muddy rivers run in broad, shallow beds, which after heavy rainfalls are filled to the brim by the swollen torrents, while in droughts the larger streams dwindle into sluggish trickles of clearer water, and the smaller ones dry up entirely, but in occasional deep pools.

All through the region, except on the great Copyright, 1888, by THE CENTURY Co. All rights reserved.

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