the cattle ranch, and although Western farmers are too good-natured to
resent very severely the liberty taken, they never flatter the newcomer
by holding out any inducements or making any prophecies as to his
future.

The writer met a runaway enthusiast of this character a few years ago.
His destination was the extreme West. As he did not know himself the
State to which he was bound, he presumed that no one else did. When
found, he had got as far as Kansas City, and hunger and lack of a place
where he could sleep in comfort had cooled his ardor and inaugurated a
vigorous attack of home-sickness. As the ideal cowboy life does not
provide for feather beds or meals served in courses, it was suggested to
the lad that possibly he was having a good experience in advance, and
getting himself accustomed to the privations of the life he had decided
to adopt.

This logic did not commend itself at all to the runaway, whose sole
ambition now was to borrow enough money to telegraph a message of
penitence to his father. A small sum necessary for the purpose was given
him, and the dispatch sent. Within an hour an answer was received and
money transmitted by wire to supply the lad with a ticket for his home,
where it is exceedingly probable what little cowboy fever he had left in
him was speedily removed in old-fashioned and regulation manner.

The cowboy must not be confounded with the cattle baron. Ten or twelve
years ago, when a great deal of money was made out of raising cattle,
there was an invasion of the prairie States by men who knew nothing
whatever about cattle raising, but who had made up their minds to secure
a fortune by raising steers. They took with them as inconsistent ideas
as did the youth in search of adventure. Often they carried large sums