"^ra-c: y i< 1 i>^^-s- '-in 'IfMH, mm' LiBRARY OF CONGRESS. Cfpii.- - G3pijri3lill}c. UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS SKETCH-BOOK OF FAMILIAR FACES AND PLACES AT THE YARDS NOT FORGETTING Kaminiscences of the Yards, Humorous and Otherwise, Joe Getler and His Cats, the Hustling Commission Men, the Widow of th^ Deceased, the Belle of the Stockyards; Beside Valuable /- / Hints to Farmers on Breeding, Selling, Shipping and \// '^ Conditioning, and Veterinary Recipes; and Con- '''^ ^ eluding with the Man of "Ups and Downs." ^ / By W. JOS. GRAND THOS, KNAPP PTG. & BDG. COMPANY ^^^ 341-851 Dearbori^ Stre^^^^^JSV^ n \ Chicago ^^ -3 £f-2?^f Copyright 1806, by o\f i ^1 W. Jos. Grand VN^^ CONTENTS. Page Frontispiece 1 Tlie Union Stockyards 7 Reminiscences of the Stockyards 83 Joe Getler and His Cats 41 "Packingtown" 46 The Slickest Confidence Game in Chicago 58 The World's Greatest Horse Market 61 Builders of the Horse Market 77 Wild Horse Harry and his Horse ''x^^igger" .. ..... 92 America's Popular Auctioneer 100 Mary the Apple Woman 102 The High Priced Auctioneer of America 105 Dan McCarthy and his Goats 108 Dressing Lamb and Mutton at the Stockyards 109 "Bill" 115 Kosher Killing 118 Jimmy Norton and his Dog "Harry" 121 Evolution of Cattle 125 Human Nature at the Cow Market 128 Evolution of the Hog 180 "Old Sandy" • • • • 185 Inspection 1B7 Jack-Knife Ben 141 Disposal of the Steer 146 The Maltese Cross 152 5 6 CONTENTS Page Breeding < 154 Bridle Bill 167 Horse Dealing 169 Willie the Telegraph Messenger 174 Buying Horses 177 Gallagher and Brown 185 Care and Conditioning of Horses 187 ''The Duke of Somerset" 190 Selling Horses 192 Tne Itinerant Barber Shop 196 The Widow of the Deceased 198 Sea Faring on Cattle Boats 214 Billy the Letter Carrier 217 Transit House 219 The Belle of the Stockyards 221 The Can-Rush 226 Commission, Feed Charges, Dockage, etc 228 One Kind of Stick-to-ativeness 229 Daily Drovers' Journal 280 The Pen-Holders 231 Champion Beef Dresser of the World 288 Jack, Pety and Paddy 286 The Stockyards Scribes 240 Gus the Ham Tester 242 Manufacture of Butterine 244 Cattle Ranches and Ranging - 248 Range Horses 266 In Coach and Saddle 271 Veterinary Recipes 296 My Ups and Downs, With Good Advice to Fellow Men SIO THE UNION STOCKYARDS: THE GREATEST LIVE STOCK MARKET IN THE WORLD. "You can get quicker action for your money at the Stockyards than in any other place on earth.*'— A Consignor. WAY back in 1848, when the population of Chicago was less than 50,000, when her shipping and commercial in- terests were no greater than those of many a little western city of to-day whose prosper- ity is dependent upon the dys- peptic caprices of a statesman elected on a silver or gold issue, when she existed as the country's metropolis only in the imagination of the Utopian few, John B. Sherman, now one of the most esteemed men in the West, took a step which went one half way toward making Chicago the magnificent city she is to-day. He felt one of the city's needs, and his powerful mind devised the remedy which should turn toward Chicago the major portion of the wealth of the West. Chicago needed a live stock market,and John B, Sherman established the Old Bull's Head Stockyards at the corner of Madison Street and Ogden Avenue, and this 7 8 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY was the initial move toward making Chicago what she is at present — the greatest live stock market in the world. Previous to the construction of this stockyard, cattle and hogs were dumped on the sand hills and sold at so much per head — and the price of cattle in those days may be estimated when a crippled hog sold for $75. As business increased, Sherman's far-seeing mind again grasped the situation, and he saw the necessity of get- I \^^. ^ I I ill I ;* w^iiilii -111 Ifcltl ^ % OLD SHERMAN STOCKYARDS. ting nearer the city. The site he selected for the new yards was at Cottage Grove Avenue and Thirtieth Street, and here he started what was known as the Sherman Stockyards. At this time there were made several other ventures of the same kind, none of which, however, were success- ful. Among those making these ventures were the Fort Wayne, Illinois Central and Lake Shore railroads. These OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 9 roads, backed by comparatively unlimited capital and spurred on by large self-interests, pitted themselves against a single man, with little money at his command, and lost. John B, Sherman, however, had the better capital of all; he had almost the insight of a seer, the perspicacity of a trained speculator and the magnetic power over men of a Napoleon. A lesser man might have opposed his single strength to the combined force of the competitor. Not so John B. Sherman. He made his interest the interest of the opposition, he exercised his ingenuity to make all their interests mutual, and within an incredibly short space of time, in 1865, his opponents had become his partners, a partnership which, with Sherman always at the helm, has resulted in a prosperity beyond which the most sanguine expec- tations of tbd stockyard company or the interested citi- zens of Chi«:ago could not aspire. The company in- corporated with a capital of $10,000,000, which has since been nearly trebled, as the Union Stockyards and Transit Company. The site of the stockyards had been again changed, this time to a quarter of a section of land bound by For- tieth and Forty-Seventh Streets on the north and south, and by Halsted Street and Center Avenue on the east and west. In those early days this yard was far beyond the limits of the city, being sufficiently isolated to satisfy even Chicagoans that it was at a proper sanitary distance. Its site was a reedy swamp, upon the un- measured front feet of which no real estate dealer had yet cast a covetous eye. Old Nathaniel Hart still re- members and talks of the laying of the first plank 10 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY which converted the bog into a teeming mart, and ex- changed the croaking of bullfrogs for the grunting of swine and the chirping of reed birds for the voices of men. Chicago grew, however, and one morning John B. Sherman awoke to find his cattle market midway between the city hall and the city limits, and his awak- ening was disturbed only by the complaints of near-by 3'esidents against the odors of cattle, and the excoriations of sanitary committees. Hard work and bliss is not THE GATEWAY TO THE STOCKYARDS. all which attends the progress of the founder of a new industry; he must take a share of the world's fault- finding also. At their first construction the stockyards covered one hundred and twenty acres with two thousand cattle pens, whereas today, thirty-one years later, three hun- dred and forty acres covered with five thousand pens, OF THE UNION BTOCKYARDS 11 stables, railroad statioDs, unloadiDg platforms, a splen- did horse pavilion and a magnificent hotel are included within the grounds of the stockyards. Takingin "Pack- ingtown," which is, indeed, the stockyards proper, the area of the yard would be increased to six hundred and forty acres and extend to Ashland Avenue, a territory large enough to furnish the site for a prosperous city. And, indeed, the population of a goodly city is con- A FULL PEN. tained within the boundaries of the yards, the various branches of the stock market and packing-house indus- try providing occupation for an army of employes, men, women and children, to the number of 40,000 — a population almost as large as that of the whole of Chi- 12 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY cago at the time when John B. Sherman constructed the first stockyards over on the West Side This is within th3 yards; outside of the stockyards palings is one of the busiest, although by no means one of the most aristocratic, portions of Chicago. Rows of dwell- ings, hotels, liveries, blacksmitheries, furniture stores, groceries, meat markets, and last, but never least, sa- loons, cluster thickly on the outskirts of the yards, the SHEEP FOR OUTSIDE SLAUGHTER HOUSES. din of activity from city and yards rising from early dawn till far into the night, and uniting in sounds o^ enterprise whicli are the business man's anthem. How few people of the city know that the stockyards have done more to make Chicago the metropolis of the West and her name a synonym for almost preternatural rapidity of growth than any other industry I How many know that of Chicago's nearly 2,000,000 people one- fourth derive support, directly or indirectly, from the stockyards? How few have ever realized the amount of OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 13 eastern, western and European capital invested in Chi- cago on the strength of the influence of the stockyards alone I The food products sent out from the stockyards supply nourishment to the entire world. Should this great industry be suddenly stopped for a period of six months the armies of Europe would be deprived of ani- mal food almost to the point of a meat famine; and should it be suddenly annihilated there would be a revo- lution in the live stock shipping trade. BEEF FOR JOHNNY BULL. During every one of the three hundred and sixty-five days in the year, except Sundays, there are here off ered up in sanguinary sacrifice to the necessities of man 15,000 hogs, 5,000 cattle, and 5,000 sheep, not consid- ering the highest record for one day, which reads: Hogs, 42,000; cattle, 10,000; sheep, 12,000. All the great railroads of the East, West, North and South are centralized here by means of the stockyards 14 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY belt line, and every railroad in Chicago is connected with the Union Stockyards system. The tracks owned and controlled by the Union Stockyards and Transit Company are one hundred and thirty miles in length, including main lines, siding and storage tracks, and were constructed in every particular to expressly facili- tate the company's business. Unloading platforms are assigned each railroad and are so constructed that en- tire trains can be unloaded at once as quickly as a sin- RAILWAY STATION. gle car. A passenger station, well equipped and modern in all its appointments, practically enables the inhabi- tants of this district to step from their doors to ele- gant Pullman cars going to every part of the country. The stockyards and the Chicago River are connected by means of a canal, the frontage of which is lined with docks which are increasing in number every year. OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 15 About fifty miles of streets and alleys connect the pens with the loading and unloading chutes of the railroads, 50,000 cattle, 200,000 hogs, 80,000 sheep and 5,000 horses being thus easily handled and accommo- dated at one time now, whereas to handle from 1,500 to 3,000 animals forty years ago seemed a herculean task. Viaducts, which are in strength if not in beauty fine examples of the builder's skill, have been erected, lead- ing to all the packing-houses to facilitate the transfer of stock from one point to another. A system of un- derground drainage has been gradually brought to a high state of perfection, the consequent sanitary con- dition of the yards insuring the health of the stock, and making every one familiar with the stockyards skeptical of the justice of Germany's complaints that American meat is diseased. An electric light plant floods the yards at night with a brilliant white light which makes it quite as possible to transact business at midnight as at high noon. Six artesian wells, aver- aging 1,B00 feet in depth and aggregating in capacity 600,000 gallons daily, provide the stock with an abun- dance of the very purest of water, its crystal clear- ness as it runs into the many drinking fountains being a marked contrast to the dull and murky water consumed by the human beings of the city. The expense of maintaining this colossus among stock markets amounts to from $2,000,000 to $8,500,000 an- ually, while the cost of establishing it is a mystery of uncounted millions. The yards were purchased about four years ago by the present company, which in- cludes an English syndicate, for $28,000,000, The capi- tal is $25,000,000. THE UNION STOCKYARDS 17 As a live stock market Chicago has do rival and do competitor. Chicago sets the values aod quotatioDs for every other market iD existeDce, aDd the maD who ships live stock to Chicago as a rule has it sold at its true value aDd has the proceeds Id his pocket at the time of day wheD the buyers aDd sellers at all the other markets Id the world are whittliDg sticks, waitiDg for the wire from Chicago which shall apprise them of — ___ — 1 ■HP 1 II B^^^^^&^^« ^^^^m r^ 1 Hb '•■M ^^^^^^Mll MESSENGER AND MAIL-CARRIER AT THE YARDS. Chicago's quotatioDs. Here is a sample of the slip of yellow paper by meaDs of which Chicago daily sets the price of beef, pork aDd mutton in every country Id both hemispheres: 18 ILLUSTRATED HTBTORY THE WESTERN UNION TEI.EGRAPH COMPANY. IMCORPOR&TEO ^ ai.OOO OFFICES IN AMERIC A. CABLE SE RVICE TO ^^THE WORLD. THOS. T. ECKERT. President and Ceneral Ma naged ^T mm ^Q^"9>, A^ SEND the following mesBage •object to the term»| S'Oft TTli or» - on back hereof, whlch.«re hereby apreed to. " /'^ j^ //j^ ^ ^ ^ i| t>y / ^ 0/lMtUL..;^>y "he's got a healthy squeal." tion and is then stamped and sealed with the govern- ment seal. This microscopic work is done by women, and theirs is one of the most unique departments at the yards. The women who fill these positions are selected for their thorough education, intelligence and good health, the latter requirement applying particu- larly to the eyes. To secure a position here such an amount of official red tape must be unwound as would vanquish the patience of all but the most plucky and 140 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY clever of women, and as a result their claim to intelli- gence is backed up by official affidavits, educational diplomas and certificates from physicians and oculists ad infinitum. At the gates of the stockyards are stationed other competent veterinarians, whose duty it is to see that no dead or diseased animals pass in the wagons contain- ing crippled stock. These men have authority to con- demn the cripples, but cannot order them to be de- stroyed. The watchers are on the alert, and when a load of disabled beasts comes along they prod them with a sharp pointed pole to ascertain wheth^^r they have a healthy squeal. The animals are thm tagged and recorded, and are allowed to pass to the private slaughtering liouses outside the yards, At these places are stationed inspectors by the city authorities, and it is left to them, principally, to judge whether the meat turned out here is fit for an alderman's table. HEALTHY CATTLE FOR SLAUGHTER. "JACK-KNIFE BEN." Every one around 3he stockyards district knows him. For many years he !-as been the faithful purveyor-in- ordinary to all who desired to acquire the indispensable jack-knife, and had the equivalent in coin of the realm jaI ein viertel thaler to exchange therefor Like the hand of the dyer, as- similating in color the material wherein it works, the name of this peripatetic merchant has taken on a tr^nomen identifying and describing the vocation of its owner, and "-'ack-knife Ben" isa person of much easier identification by most of his acquaintances than he would be should any one ignorantly or inadvertently speak of him as "Mr. Benjamin Chew." Indeed, it 141 142 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY may beseriously doubted if Jack-koife Ben would know who was addressed should he be apostrophized as Mr. Chew, or spoken to in any other way than as '^Jack- knife," or (when the speaker was more than usually confidential) as plain Ben. Besides being well known he is very popular with those with whom he comes in constant contact, despite the fact that the proverbial wooden nutmeg Yankee at his best is no more than a match for him when it comes down to a deal in knives. But there is such an air of shrewd and cheerful humor in everything that Ben does that one lets himself be persuaded, even against positive knowledge, that in the case of his wares the highly pol- ished blades are equal in temper and cutting capacity to the finest products of the steel works of Damascus. Ben is a man of resources. For ways that are dark the heathen Chinee has long carried the banner, but when it comes to tricks that are not vain — or void of results, which means the same thing — Ben is entitled to the first seat in the '^amen" corner. Like St Paul, he is all things to all men — that he may sell knives. All languages and all systems of philosophy, religion and civilization are made subservient to his calling in life — the distribution of jack-knives among the way- farers and sojourners of Packingtown. If his customer betrays the sweet German accent, Ben at once assumes the deep, absorbed look of the metaphysician, and his voice takes on a reverberatory, guttural sound like the muttering of distant thunder on a hot midsummer after- noon, and the impressive manner in which he answers "Jal" to interrogatories, regardless of the relevancy of OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 143 the question and answer, would win its way to the soul of the most ultra German who ever trod in leather. And when after this edifying dialogue has continued for some minutes and Ben hears the one all-important word "preis," uttered by his questioner, he brings to his aid his utmost linguistic resources and answers, "Ein viertel Thaler," the sale is always closed then and there, Ben adds another quarter to his already large hoard, while the Teuton goes away with a knife. But how the scene changes if the prospective pur- chaser happens to be an Irishman! No sooner is the Milesian seen bearing down toward Ben's coign of van- tage than that redoubtable worthy pulls a face in which can plainly be seen unmistakable delineations of the four provinces of Ireland, and to such a fine point has Ben extended the exercise of his acumen that he can, at a great way off, distinguish what manner of country- man it is who approaches, and those who listen may at various times have the inestimable privilege of hearing conversations anent the merits of different grades and makes of cutlery carried on in the respective dia- lects and brogues of Ulster, Munster, Leinster and Con- naught. And as one listens he becomes more than firmly convinced that a great actor has been lost to the boards; or else he goes away with a settled conviction in his mind that there is more than a hearsay knowl- edge of the Emerald Isle in Ben's mental make-up. In more cases than one has Ben received w^arm fra- ternal hand-clasps from homesick fresh imports from the "ould sod," and the remarkable feature of these affairs is that all of these strangers who were so glad to 144 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY see an imagined former near neighbor in the person of Ben came from widely separated portions of the island. The inference is plain: Either Ben was born and has lived in more places than are imputed even to the poet Homer, or else he has almost unlimited power of adap- tation and mimicry to meet the exigencies of the hour. But if he should go so far as to claim the gift of ubiquity, there are those among his admirers who would back him ten to one that he could prove his birth at a given time in any number of different places Indeed, so ex- pansive is his personality that it might upon a pinch be believed that he was born all over the earth, and did not confine the ceremony of his incarnation to any one particular locality Now when it comes down to serious business and you desire the real thing, Jack-knife Ben can accommodate you, particularly if you really know a good piece of metal when you see it, and discover at the same time that you have the price. He can fit you out with as good an article as you can get anywhere, but the sucker who makes a play at Ben, and has not the necessary equipment of knowledge with which to back up his bluff, is an abomination to Ben. But put Ben on his honor, pay him a fair price and you will get fair treat- ment; but don't "play horse" with him, or he will beat you every time. Necessarily, from the constant stream of visitors to the stockyards — some on business errands, others merely gratifying curiosity to see the great shambles of the Northwest — Ben is known by people all over the world. He is a fixture at the yards, being, as it were, a feature OP THE UNION STOCKYARDS 145 of the ensemble without which the picture would be in- complete, and among all who know him the generally expressed wish is, "May his shadow never grow less, and may the. blade of Father Time be as powerless against him as are some of his common blades against a piece of black gum-wood." CATTLE BUYERS. Many of the live stock commission men at the stock- yards engage buyers to select stock to fill their orders, either for home or foreign consumption. These buyers are paid salaries ranging from $2,000 to $15,000 annually. The average salary is about $8,000, and is earned by men of ability, men who seldom make a mis- take in their purchases, in short, ''talented buyers." Those who draw $15,000 annually are men who never make a mistake, who can tell at a glance to within five pounds what a steer will dress and the quality of his beef, can sit on a fence and judge of a penful of cattle, keeps posted on eastern and foreign markets as well as on the hide market, and knows, by some occult intui- tion, when to get into the market and when to get out. In brief, the difference between such a buyer and the one who earns $3,000 a year is the difference between genius and talent. But whatever the salary or the ability, these buyers are important factors in the "altogether" of the life at the stockyards, and it will be a sorry day for the yards when some over-clever inventor invents an auto- matic cattle buyer. HEAVIEST STEER IN THE YARDS — WEIGHT 3,000 POUNDS DISPOSAL OF THE STEER. The stockyards is the most economical place on earth. Nothing is lost there except the squeal of the hog — and a patent is pending for bottling that. Americans have the name of being extravagant, and of prodigally wasting their bounteous resources, but the Union Stockyards is one place where this charge would not hold good, for here no willful waste will ever make woful want while the present system of utilizing every ounce of material is followed. From the tips of the long tossing horns of the Texas steer to the end of his tail nothing is lost; hide, hair, hoofs, — in short, the "altogether" is utilized, each portion finding its des- tined end and way, and thus parts of the same animal may eventually be scattered to the four quarters of the globe. If the fashionable ladies whose names figure in the elite Blue Book, and also lesser members of society, could trace backward to their first estate the delicate so- called tortoise shell combs now so popular, perhaps the present high prices would not rule except upon affidavit of an expert that the material was the genuine "stuff." In life poor old Brindle's horns were never in the least ornamental, but after she passes under the executioner's 146 T^E UNION STOCKYARDS 147 mallet at the stockyards parts of those same curved weapons of defense become touched to the "fine issues" of a lady's adorning, besides the many baser uses enterprising manufacturers find for them. The tips of the horns are made into bone ware, combs and various other things. The hollow parts go through a steaming process whereby they are rolled out flat and then made into combs and ornamental bone work, even into a very fine imitation of tortoise shell, the necessary shading and coloring being arrived at by the use of acid. The horns sell for $225 per ton. From the head the brain is removed, one man being kept busy splitting the skulls with an axe— and so ex- pert is he that the axe never touches the brain — an- other man taking out the brain, which then comes to our table as a delicacy; the meat of the cheeks is taken off and used for canning, and the tongue is pick- led and sold either fresh or canoed, while the bones are then broken up and by a trying-out process become transformed into neat's-foot oil. The uses of the hides in the common purposes for leather is well known, but they are also used, after be- ing softened, and fancy figures stamped upon them, for the purposes of expensive upholstering and in the mak- ing of coats, taking the place of the old-time buffalo coat. The carcass, of course, is claimed by the local butcher or sent to Europe by cold storage; also to parts of the United States where meat supplies are inadequate — often, strange to say^ going back almost to the very ranger who shipped it hither as live stock. 148 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY The shank bone, cut above the ankle and below the knee, making a piece seven to eight inches long, is sent to the New England and Massachusetts factories to be made into knife handles for the cheaper grades of cut- lery. Out of the ankle and knee bones every particle of fat is taken, and the bones then go to Germany for use in sugar refining. These bones are also used in man- ufacturing fiber for use in connection with electrical appliances. The hoofs are simply worked up into glue Of the tails the number is so large that they cannot all be consumed in Chicago, and they are therefore largely exported for use in the making of ox-tail soup. The intestines — some of which, the round and mid- dle guts, make a casing 125 feet in length—are made into long cases for large bologna sausages. The stomach goes for headcheese, the livers for free lunch or are made into liver sausages. A percentage of the blood is used for blood sausage; also for a coloring matter for dark colored headcheese. A portion also goes through a crystallizing process and is used in the manufacture of buttons. The remainder of the animal, the refuse, bones, scraps, odds and ends, are all put into a common mass, dried, ground and sold as bone dust and fertilizing matter. All of the undigested contents of the stomach of the animal when killed are dried and burnt as fuel in the furnaces, there being, wonderful to say, enough of this strange sort of fuel furnished to keep the furnaces go- ing. OF THE tJNlON STOCKYARDS 149 The hot water with which the benches and floors of the slaughter houses are scrubbed is carried off by sew- ers into a catch-basin, the surface is then skimmed and the fat thus obtained is converted into axle-grease. The accumulation of ashes in the smoke houses, left from the wood burnt in preparing smoked meats, is saved for fruit growers and is sold in barrels at a rate of about ten dollars per ton. The western and lighter native cattle are canned, the bones are put into a vat and all fatty matter extracted, and the clear fat becomes tallow. From the delicate marrow taken from the shank bone is made the com- mercial pomades and mustache dressings. It is not so long ago that the problem of how to dis- pose of the offal resulting from the slaughter of cattle and hogs was one which tried the Chicago packers sorely. The quantity of it was so enormous, the worthless- ness of it so seemingly obvious, that merely how to get rid of it at the least expense was a daily recurring ques- tion. Offal was the bugbear of the packing business. In those early days the value of offal as a fertilizer was not known to the packers; the blood was allowed to run into the river, the heads, feet, tankage and general refuse was usually hauled out on the prairies and buried in trenches. But there were some even then who appreciated the value of this waste product, and these few were the ghouls of the refuse burial grounds, digging up and hauling the ill-smelling matter to their small factories and converting it into glue, tallow, oil and fertilizer. Seeing thia use of it, the packers willingly offered the 150 ILLUSTRATED HISTOBY - ; offal to any one who would cart it away without charge. As a result of this li)3erality a new industry was born, small glue and fertilizer factories springing up like mushrooms in the vicinity of Ashland Avenue and Thirty-ninth Street; the fertilizer being shipped to the East, which alone afforded a market for it. The bone tankage turned out by these factories was a fairly good product of its kind, and was particularly in demand by farmers as a fertilizer for winter wheat. The regular fertilizer, however, was high in moisture and in poor mechanical condition. However, the cheapness of the material, which cost only the trouble of hauling it from the packing-houses, the inexpensive process of manufacture, a crude wooden trip hammer only being used to crush the bone tankage, and the comparatively high price set upon the finished product,made the manufacture of fertilizer so profitable a business that the manufacturers soon became violent competitors, and began to bid hotly for the offal. Up to this time the manufacturers had accumulated snug for- tunes out of the business of getting something for prac- tically nothing, but now a money value was being set' upon the packing-house refuse, and the i^ackers even considered seriously the pros and cons of engaging in the manufacture of fertilizer themselves, although they were now turning a pretty penny by the sale of the offal. About 1877 a home-made direct heat drier was per- fected, and with the aid of this device one of the larger and more progressive packers went into the manufac- ture of fertilizer in earnest. As a result he, and those OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 151 who afterward followed his example, were able to sell their beef and pork at closer margins, thus tempting larger purchases. Larger sales meant a more rapid de- velopment of his business in advance of his less pro- gressive fellow packers. Indeed, this was one of the moves to which is largely due the greatness of Chi- cago as a provision and dressed beef market. For economy is one of the first laws of nature, and where economy is practiced in little things there may compe- tition be defied, an axiom which has been proved by the Chicago packers, who, by utilizing the ofial which other packers wasted, were enal^led to undersell their competitors and still realize larger profits. And this is a fact which should carry a moral to spendthrifts. LOOKING OVER FEEDERS AT THE STOCKYARDS. THE MALTESE CROSS. The Union Stockyards is, perhaps, about the last place where one with a fancy for romance would expect to find any food for such a taste, or a chapter from a stage melodrama where the long missing brother with the strawberry mark on his arm turns up in the nick of time to defeat the schemes of the grasping uncle who plans to seize upon the inheritance on supposition of the death of the rightful heir. Or, again, the last place where on finding in the stomach of a fish the mysteri- ously lost other half of the amulet which the parting lovers had divided between them, the wondering swain is convinced that his Lucinda had indeed lost the trinket while boating instead of giving it to his rival, as some perfidious lago has hinted, and goes home straightway to his duckalinda, and they "live happily ever after." But though this is the last place to look for romance, and a Texas steer the last medium for its conveyance, yet something quite as strange and out of the common as this actually came to pass at this very prosaic place, and if no faithful swain and sweetheart had their fond hearts reunited it was more because the owners of the amulet were already happily married than from any failure to connect on the part of the strange incident itself. The elements of romance and melodrama were all there, right enough. 152 d?HE UNiOl? STOCKYARDS l5B The iDcident is simply that, not many months ago, there was found, embedded in the intestine of a Texas steer, a gold medal engraved "Miss Ida Work, Dallas, Texas." The medal was in the shapeof a Maltese cross, and, as discovered when the owner was found, had been given her on graduating from school in a convent in Mexico, and had been missing seven years. When, upon a chance of finding her, the original of the address was written to, it was learned that she had been some years married and is the mother of several children. The medal was sent to her, and no doubt the owner was overjoyed to regain her lost treasure. HUNTERS AND SADDLE HORSES, BREEDING. WITH IDVTCE TO FARMERS AND SMALL BREEDERS. If there is one thing more than another which is now agitating the farmers and small breeders of the coun- try, it is horse breeding. How and what to breed and whether breeding pays are the questions of the hour, questions which apparently have more than the pro- verbial nine lives of the cat, and will neither be downed nor answered to popular satisfaction. Very recently the opinion prevailed that the horse in- dustry was on the highroad to extinguishment from neglect, but this idea has been abated by the revival of common sense, which proves to us that while human beings inhabit the globe the love of God's noblest ani- mal, the horse, w^ill continue to demonstrate itself in efforts for his improvement Fashionable horse shows 154 THE UNION STOCKYARDS 155 are frequent all over thecouDtry, extraordiDary iiiduce- ments in prizes being offered for fine animals, and I see in this and other facts signs of increasing interest in the horse beautiful, with an attendant interest in breeding. I have no intention of antagonizing the views of the great majority of those interested in this subject. Any one who will make a study of the question will discover that the theories advanced in opposition to breeding are based on false premises. The only shade of truth in the argument is that the number of horses used in cities has been somewhat lessened by the in- crease of trolley and cable transit. But the growth of citie8,with its attendant demand for heavy draft horses, the increasing number of the rich with expensive par- tialities for stylish horses, together with a European trade, which I shall mention later, more than compen- sate for the few horses displaced by mechanical means of transit. While there may be differences of opinion regarding some phases of the horse industry, all agree that but few colts are being produced. Authentic reports de- clare that there are almost no suckling colts and verv few yearlings in the country. The best mares are also rapidly disappearing, especially the fine, stylish mares of the carriage type and the large draft mares, although both kinds bring prices which will yield the breeder better profits than most of the products of the farm. Buyers are today searching the country for good horses of all kinds, and offering fully thirty per cent better prices than were offered six months ago. Another im- 156 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY portant factor to be seriously considered is the foreign demand for American horses, which is increasing at a phenomenal rate, shiploads of American horses being transported weekly. England, Germany, France, Ire- land, Scotland, Belgium, and in fact all Europe con- cedes that America can raise better horses for less mone\^ than any other country in the world, and Europe may AN ALL-ROUND ACTOR. be depended upon to take all our surplus stock in the future at fair prices. There is, however, a rational explanation of the breeder's present timidity and the farmer's indifference to breeding. For during the seven years preceding 1892 there was an overproduction of horses, the government report showing an increase of 2,150,000 in the United States for the years 1891-92. The explanation of this OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 157 overproduction lies in the increase of the export trade, farmers and breeders fancying that a large demand for horses meant an unlimited demand for any manner of beast, by courtesy called a horse, which they could pro- duce, and as a consequence such horses became a drug on the market Then the reaction came, and the farmers who had on hand this white elephant of horseflesh, which was in style neither fish, flesh nor fowl and sup- plied no existing demand, sold for anything they could get; and going to the other extreme of fancying that the horse industry was dead, sold even their brood mares. So prevalent has this idea become that during the last three years only forty per cent of the mares were bred, resulting in a decrease, according to last year's horse census, of 215,000 head. And now the universal cry of the dealer is, "Where shall we get horses?" Sight has been entirely lost of the fact that it was not the market but the horse which was poor. Among so many bad horses there were, of course, many good ones, and for these there was and is a ready sale. A visit to the great live stock markets of the world, Chicago in particular, would be of inestimable benefit to breeders and farmers by convincing them that the supply of horses does not equal the demand. In Chi- cago are twelve large firms which control the sale of 100,000 horses annually. The heads of these firms are unanimous in the conviction that there are only two kinds of horses worth breeding. Of these the stylish coach horse, they will convince the breeder, has never equaled the demand, while of the well formed, heavy- 158 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY weight draft horse the supply is also incredibly short. There is another reaction impending, however, one which will turn in favor of breeding good stock, and we may expect to see gradually established a normal relation between supply and demand. In the mean- time, as a horse cannot be created in a minute, there is THE THOROUGHBRED ''ORMOND, a "horse drought" in sight, which will inevitably in- crease in aggravation until several crops of yet un- foaled colts shall have grown to maturity. Therefore there can be no better time to begin to breed than now, at the very commencement of the scarcity, when prices are mounting higher and higher. The farmer who takes this hint will do so to his lasting advantage, for it is unlikely in this enterjDrising age that such a dearth of horses will occur twice in a man's lifetime. OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 159 Like an army in battle, which must have recruits or stop fighting, SO we must reinforce the stock or get off our pedestal as a fine-horse producing country, and so lose the profits of the industry. All we have now to depend upon to do this is the short crop of colts from a limited number of mares bred the last few seasons. Like produces like, or the likeness of some ancestor. The scrub horse will produce the scrub horse, and the scrub farmer will have the scrub stock that will lose him money, while the progressive farmer will produce the prize winners which will prove both a source of great pride and of profit. It costs no more to raise a good horse than a poor one; one eats as much as the other. I have no axe to grind and no particular man's stock to advertise. I give an unbiased opinion without fear or favor, and what I advise the farmer to do is this: Cross a big, bony, thoroughbred running horse with straight action with a round, smooth-turned Norman, Percheron or other large mare with good action, which the two former invariably have. The mare will give size and action and the stallion symmetry, activity and staying quality, thus forming a foundation of fine brood mares of which the country is now sadly in need. The produce will be half-bred hunters and saddle horses, which are in great demand, and car- riage horses fit for home and export trade. Pairs of such horses as this breed can pull a plow or draw a car- riage, and will find a ready sale at a minute's notice at from $500 to $1,000. The breed may be still further improved by taking the progeny from this cross and breeding it to carefully selected thoroughbred trotting, 160 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY coach horses or hackneys that are bred in the purple. But the stallion must in no event be a half-bred cur. By following my suggestions the farmer, when he drives to town with a pair of such horses, will have so many offers for them that he will likely exclaim, "Thank A coACHER (Dunham's "indre"). God! at last I've produced something for which the buyers follow me around and ask, 'Smith, what'll you take for them?'" I am talking from experience, and when I say that the thoroughbred is not nearly so much appreciated by the average breeder as he should be. OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 161 and that the thoroughbred alone can impart the desira- ble finish to a coach or other horse, I know whereof I speak. There is another horse to which we must pay some attention. That is the draft horse proper. The draft horse requires the same forethought to produce him that the coach horse does, for while the latter must be showy the former must be herculean in strength, and neither quality is bred by chance. To get a draft horse, breed a Percheron stallion to a Norman or even a Clydes- dale mare. Do not make the irreparable mistake of trying to breed draft horses from nondescript stock, even if it is good, sound and of medium weight, say from 1300 to 1500 pounds, and even if you us3 a big draft stallion. The stallion cannot counterbalance in the progeny the mare's lack of weight, and the result will be that bugbear of the breeder — a horse which is not what it was purposed to be, and consequently more likely than not is unfitted for any purpose. In breed- ing for draft horses remember that the weight of the draft horse is increasing, and that while a 1300 to 1500 pound animal would pass for such a few years ago it will do so no longer, 1600 pounds being the very lightest weight desirable. The general purpose horse is still another animal which may be noticed in passing. No suggestions are necessary for its breeding, the stock takes care of itself, and is constantly replenished by inbreeding. Haphazard breeding is the order of the day among farmers. Too often they breed without a purpose, not caring what is crossed with what, so that the result is 162 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY a colt which can be marketed. The average farmer is, above all others, the man who must market his produce, whether it be stock or grain, at a good price in order to make both ends meet, to say nothing of "making farming pay." And yet he persistently neglects to THE TROTTER "PATCHEN WILKES. ' take the one step which will bring him good prices. It is only by repeated admonitions, urging and prod- ding that he will ever be induced to take forethought enough to control by proper breedmg the quality of the stock he markets. And not until he does this will he make breeding pay OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 163 A thoroughbred stallion, it may be argued, is an ex- pensive article, and cannot be afforded by the average farmer. The solution of this difficulty is simple. What one farmer cannot aiford two, three, or, if neces- sary, a dozen can afford easily, and would this number of farmers form a syndicate and purchase a thorough- bred running stallion they would soon find themselves reimbursed for the outlay by the higher prices brought by their young stock. Could the national Government be induced to purchase thoroughbred stallions and place them in the different breeding sections of the country, charging the farmers a very nominal price for their services, it would result in a dissemination of good blood, in better prices for stock, and in hitherto un- known prosperity for the breeders and farmers. I have spent the better part of ray life in Canada, where the Government gives a little valuable attention to the breeding of horses, and beside have inherited a love for a drop of blood, and have in much traveling seen its results. Canada has the reputation, and de- servedly too, of breeding the hardiest, toughest, best- selling saddle and carriage horses on the American continent. There is where you can see a farmer driv- ing a pair of big sixteen-hand half-bred horses in and out of town forty miles, their heads and tails up all the way,and their big sinews playing like the piston rods of a ten-horse engine. In too many states if the farmer drives to and from town a few miles his common-bred curs loll up against the fence on the way home to keep from falling over. In conclusion I will say that I am not afraid that 164 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY the horseless age is upon us, the bicycle fiend to the contrary notwithstanding. Does the bicycle enjoy a lump of sugar from your hand? Can it toss its head and whinny a joyous greeting as it hears your voice, or carry you like a bird on the wing over a five-bar gate? Do you fancy that inanimate cobweb of rods and wheels A HACKNEY (hASTING's "yOUNG NOBLEMAN"). from the machinist's will ever take the place of my feel- ing, thinking, loving companion from Barbary? Not while the bicycle remains blind to your actions of kind- ness and dumb to the sound of your voice, nor while the horse is the delightful company he is, whether in the stable, under the saddle or in the harness I Cer- tain it is that as far back into the ages as we can trace OF THE UNION StOCKYARDS 165 his association with human beings, the horse appears as the friend and intimate companion of man. He steps down the ages decked with the flowers and wreaths of love, poetry, romance and chivalry no less than with the stern trappings of heroism and war. '^Man's in- humanity to man" and beast is justly lamented, but so THE PERCHERON "lA FERTE. " associated with the sentiment and necessities of man is the horse that bicycles, tricycles and motocycles com- bined will be powerless to displace him. Imagine the gallant General Miles astride a bicycle cheering his troops to victory with a sword in one hand and pump- ing his tires for dear life with the other I You may depend upon it, good horses, and especially good coach and saddle horses, will always be in demand. 166 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY The dealers say, "It is not a question of money now. It is a question of horses If we can get what our cus- tomers want in the way of carriage horses, they do not want to know the price, and will pay the bill without a question." If the result of this article is to create even an iota of interest among the breeders, I shall feel amply com- pensated for having written it. And as the old ranch- man said as a warning not to harbor his runaway wife, "A word to the wise is sufficient, and ought to work on fools." PERCHERONS INVARIABLY HAVE GOOD ACTION. BRIDLE BILL He is one of the familiar figures at the stockyards. Day in and day out, during weeks which grew into months, and months which have grown into years, he has stood near the fire-engine house pursuing his vocation of braiding and plaiting leather lariats, watch chains and bridles. You may think it a small business, but that is a mistake, for many times a single article brings as much as seventy-five dollars to Bill's swelling coffers. Beside being an artist in his line he is also its champion, plaiting in sixty-two different and distinct styles; hence his name. On his last visit to Chicago Sir Henry Irving, no greater an artist in his profession than Bill is in his, purchased one of Bill's famous bridles. Bridle Bill's real name is W. T. Davidson, and his 167 168 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY birthplace is Upton Gouiityj Texas. He is of a ro- mantic and adventurous nature, and many a time has he traveled over the ok] Chisholm trail during the stormy days of 1869, forming one of the protecting guard usually accompanying emigrants going from Texas to Kansas. A 999 page book wouhl barely hold all Bill's adventures with the then numerous Sioux, Gomauches, marauders aijd horse thieves. But while Bill's eyes were never closed to the least signs which heralded the coming of a band of savages, or his ears deaf to the stealthy sound of a creeping foe, his eyes and ears were also open to the beautiful colors and forms and sweet sounds of the stream-kissed mjuntains and sun-burned plains of his wild surround- ings. And should you care, one of these bright spring days, to run out to the 3^ards, and chance to catch Bill in an idle moment, he will tell you a blood-curdling story of adventure dressed up with many touches of vivid scenic description which prove him to be a romancist as well as a graphic narrator. For while Bill is now a steady-going citizeii of Chicago, you have only to say In- dian to him and his eyes blaze at once as when you cry rat to an English fox terrier, and his tongue seconds his memory in recalling the many redskins who sleep in the happy hunting grounds because of his unerring aim, and in relating the experiences of wanderings which carried him from coast to coast and from Canada to the Gulf. And should his mood be a particularly commu- nicative one his narrations would equal the stories of Jack Shepard and the imaginings of Mark Twain. HORSE DEALING. In Europe, and of late in New York City, the business of horse dealing has become as honorable, reputable and responsible as that of a merchant, grocer, or ''coal-baron," It is largely engaged in by gentlemen who have an inbred love of the horse from boyhood, and frequently by those of wealth and leisure. In other places these dealers have their establishments where orders are received in person or by mail, and are filled as are similar orders for household supplies, etc. A buyer orders a horse as he would a suit of clothes, trusting to the skill, knowledge and honor of his dealer to supply him with the proper article for a certain use, just as when he orders a dress coat. In the morning mail will be a letter: "Mr. Blank: Please send me a family horse;" or "Mr. Blank: I require a pair of car- riage horses (mentioning perhaps some preferred color), at a price not exceeding $ — ," etc. But in the western part of this country this business seems to have been one which all manner of sharpers, sharks and ignorant knaves have considered a peculiarly inviting field for their shady talents. So much has this been the case that the occupation itself has become somewhat out of favor. And this is not wholly to be wondered at, for, truly speaking, a large majority of the so-called horse-dealers whom the writer has seen 169 170 ILLUSTBATED HISTORY round town, know about as much about a horse as a horse knows about them (perhaps less), or as a dog knows about his mother. And they would be better en- gaged bucking wood, as they only bring contempt upon what is a very respectable and deserving profession if properly practiced, and one which can be conducted on the same business principles as any other calling. At the Union Stockyards, indeed, there are reputable and responsible dealers, and the very best horses that have been winning ribbcns at the horse shows have passed through their hands. But these men are old es- tablished dealers in their line and have a place of busi- ness. Nor is it a peripatetic one, the dealer going about peddling horses in the streets downtown. No one can properly serve patrons in that way, and those who wish to buy can be better served and save money by giving an order, setting the price they want to pay, as in buy- ing a carriage, set of harness or other merchandise. It is best to buy direct through the commission men in preference to shippers who come in, as the latter are only anxious to make sales and get home, while the commission men, on the other hand, have their reputa- tion to keep up, and take a much more personal inter- est. They are all responsible, being under a bond of $20,000 to the stockyards company, and all disputes, if any, are settled by an arbitration board. There is also a number of bright salesmen attached to every commis- sion house at the yards who keep their eyes open for the "good ones." These facts, considered with the number of horses from which to choose at the yards, make it the best policy to place orders in the way described, for OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 17 1 carriage and saddle horses the same as for draft horses. The draft horse business is all done in this way. How can you expect a gentleman and genuine busi- ness man to peddle his wares up back alleys to show them? Surely a dignified traffic like horse dealing is above the level of peanut vending! A good horse is always worth money and a little extra trouble to get him; and an order placed with a reliable dealer will insure his being furnished with an exactness equal to that of dealings in any other line. Another thing; it is well to place orders in advance, as this gives stock time to acclimate, and in many ways is of advantage to both buyer and dealer. It is true that in some cities and places the business of horse-dealing is at a rather low ebb, and is carried on by persons not too wise or scrupulous, but the class I have been speaking of are the equals of the same class in any other lines, who have a sense of business honor. If this profession were put, in general, upon the same basis as other kinds of business it would be found that, as a rule, a much better class of men would en- gage in it. Already, as heretofore stated, a nucleus is formed at the stockyards^ composed of as honorable, able and reliable a set of men as can be found in any business anywhere. Where do yoa find a horse-dealer failing in business? Yet again, where is there a class of men who have their anxiety and receive so little profit for their trouble? My readers, there are sharks in all businesses, but I have found fewer such in the horse business than in other commercial lines. To illustrate: When travel- 172 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY ing commercially I have known representatives of repu- table houses selling German silver-plated goods marked "Sterling." I have seen men selling cloth made in this country for imported goods, etc. Men of the former stamp have a wholesome respect for their reputation and are not dealing in horses today and trading in something else tomorrow, and they have a knowledge of their business which is gratifying. The writer's experience includes some very amusing ones with so-called "dealers," a number of whom would be much better at work on a farm or behind a plow. Any man can tell you with "half an eye" when a horse is nice-looking, but there are few to find or tell you his defects. I have been lugged round by numbers of these wiseacres to see knee-actors! but, my friends and read- ers, I have bought knee-actors from these same men years back who sold them to me cheap because, they said, they were stone-pounders. 1 used to buy "stone- pounders" till they got on to the game. In conclusion: What is an "expert" buyer? The an- swer to this is, there are few men amongst dealers,farm- ers and breeders who can thoroughly examine horses. It is a gift. Such men are rare as poets, and, like the latter, are "born and not made." The faculty is one which may be improved by cultivation and experience, but unless it is in a man no amount of effort can bring it out. Said a mushroom millionaire when told that his daughter at boarding-school lacked "capacity" — "Wal, I got plenty of mone}''; kain'tyou buy her one?" Alael for his thick-witted offspring, his wealth could not help OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 173 her here. And so it is with the capacity of which we are speaking. It can be neither acquired nor bought — though many dealers bank upon purchasing this rare quality, and find themselves wofully mistaken "when their dubious knowledge is put to the test in a trade. The touchstone of the true horse judge is not and never can be theirs. A FAMILIAR SCENE AT THE STOCKYARDS. WILLIE THE TELEGRAPH MESSENGER. Heretofore boys have not figured very largely in "grown-up" literature, though "Gallagher" made something of a reputation for himself when introduced to an admiring public a few years ago. But the boy who is the subject of this necessarily short sketch could give Gallagher cards and spades on enterprise, breeding, intelligence, gentlemanliness, and yet win the game. Everybody knows Willie at the stockyards, and Willie knows everybody; everybody likes Willie and Willie likes everybody. Willie is the Western Union Telegraph messenger at 174 THE UNION STOCKYARDS 175 the yards. He has been at that post of duty for about five years, and to all who know him it will not seem ex- aggeration to say that he has scarcely an equal and no superior in his line. He has a wonderful memory — never forgets a face or a name — and has an intuition little short of marvelous which enables him to smell people out whom he wants in a crowd. He dodges in and out among the people till he finds the one he is after; he is always on the run, and one would suppose each message he delivers to be a matter of life and death from the way he presses on till the right person is found. No grass ever grows under those flying feet, and as his bright, handsome face and merry eyes flash past, and his voice chimes out a courteous "Good morning, sir,'' he seems to be a sort of typical nineteenth-century Mercury— minus the wings and the caduceus. Willie is a true-blue, "straight" kind of boy,and you can rely on him. He is a little gentleman, eschews cigarette smoking and such harmful indulgences, and has already considerable money "to windward." He is also something of a wit in his way and, like all boys, enjoys a roguish prank now and then. He is often left in charge of the office while the manager goes to lunch, and on one such occasion an old man came in to send a telegram. He asked Willie how the messages were sent, and being told they went along the wire, expressed a desire to see them go For a joke Willie told him to "hurry out and he would see one going." The old man rushed out in a forthwith manner to see the sight, but alas for his rustic hopes, nothing was to be seen I And the only consolation he got from Willie was that he didn't go quick enough. 176 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY Another time when Willie was upholding the man- agerial dignity, a would-be "fly" countryman, in town with a carload of stock, larruped into the telegraph office and started in to have some fun with the "kid." Now, if there is anything which affronts Willie's sense of the fitness of things it is to be dubbed "kid" or called "Bub," and both of these offenses did the Jon- athan commit till Willie's patience ran low. The fel- low had, moreover, an untidy appearance and an unwholesome odor about his clothing which completed the boy's disgust. After asking twenty "smart Alec" questions about the whole office, he finally settled into, "Wal, Bub, how much '1 't cost to telegraph a deespatch down to Punk- town?" "Oh," says Willie, debonairly, "we charge most folks twenty-five cents for a ten-word message, but being as you're a granger we'll let you down easy. You can send three messages for a dollar." The stranger lost sight of the overcharge in resenting the epithet, and snarled: "Whut makes ye call me a granger? I ain't got no hayseeds in m' hair." "Naw, " said long-suffering Willie, imitating the rustic's tone, "Naw; but you've got the soil on yuhl" BUYING HORSES. HINTS TO AMATEURS AND SOMETHING ABOUT COACHMEN. If you have decided to start out upon a horse-buying expedition on your own responsibility, to combine busi-. ness with pleasure, remember first the old maxim, that a good horse is never a bad color It is as difficult to find two horses alike as it is two men; in all my rather wide experience I have seldom seen a matched pair. There is a better chance to get good cross matches, and it is better to have them crossed than to have a pair that do not mate. You cannot buy a horse as you would a bit of silk, and the best matcher of goods who ever hauiited a bargain counter would find about a hundreJ chances to one against success in this line. Therefore don't ask the opinion of your wife, your aunt, or your grandmother and their immediate relations, nor your own friends; if you will select a horse, the soundest and of the best conformation, and show him to a dozen of your friends each and every one would give a different opinion, though they are probably as ignor- ant as yourself. Perhaps one happens to own a good horse which he picked up by chance, and thinks wis- dom on this question will die with him. Now if you are not conversant with the anatomy of a horse, you had better not try to buy him on your own judgment, un- 177 178 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY less you are piu'chasing from a respoDsible house or well-known dealer who has a reputation to uphold. But if you are an enthusiastic buyer on your own account, perhaps the writer can give you some hints. After you select the horse which you think has captured your fancy it might be best to have him brought out for a careful examination. If free from defects he is the most likely to retain your good opinion, if you are any- thing like the writer, who always buys or leaves on first impressions. But as this might not suit an amateur, some more explicit directions will be in order. To be- gin, be sure that he is cool, and not in a heated condi- tion; remember that horses are subject to every ailment and disease that human flosh is heir to; that he has tem- perament, disposition, individuality, and needs to be very carefully bought. The first thing you look at is I . r,^ . p his foot — no foot, no norse; it should be on the concave order, a deep sole and not too narrow; this denotes breeding. Run your hand down his forelegs, examine for splints; if on the bone they will never hurt him, but if on the tendons drop him like a hot po- tato, no matter how small the splint. To save further time and trouble have h:m jogged quietly down the floor, on stones if pos- sible, and look for lameness, and see if his style of going suits you. Now examine his cor- onets for side-bones; take a look at his eyes, and that A CONCAVE HOOF. or THE UNION STOCKYARDS 179 very closely. Stand in front of him to see that he has a full chest; glance between his forelegs at his spavin joints; run your hand over his kidneys and press hard as HE STANDS SQUARE. you do so ;pass behind him and see that he stands square ; examine for curbs (a curb will never hurt a horse after be is six years old); feel his hocks for incipient spav- 180 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY ins, or bruises on the cap of his hocks, which require a satisfactoTy explanation from the owner; don't forget to look for thorough-pins and bog spavins; look care- fully at his hijDS that they are both alike; personally I would never buy an interfering horse, or a horse that shows symptoms of it. In the matter of age four years old is not preferable. I had rather buy a horse at eight than five, as he is then in his prime, and his habits are all developed; if a horse has arrived at that age and maintained his soundness, 5^ou can rely upon his being a good one See that your intended purchase is well ribbed up; long backed, narrow-gutted horses are bad feeders and doers, and cannot stand their work. See also that he has plenty of neck, good, high shoulders and sloping back. Then proceeding, ask the holder of the horse to walk quick into his flank both ways, turning him quickly; then back him while you look carefully for symptoms of si)ringhalt or cramps. If up to this time the horse has borne inspection favorably, put a man on his back and gallop him as fast as he will go to test his wind for a whistling sound. If all right have him put in har- ness to see if he has any vice Stable habits such as weaving, wind-sucking, cribbing and halter-pulling must be left to the veracity of the seller's word, as they are only to be detected when the horse is standing quietly in the stable. If he fills the bill, buy him; good horses are scarce. After you get him home use him kindly for a few weeks. Don't use the whip; make a friend of him. Horses coming fresh from the country require to be 0^ THE UNION STOCKYARDS 181 worked by degrees and very gradually. Don't expect a horse that is fresh from the country to play the piano; if he is good tempered he will very soon get accustomed to city sights. Horses should be treated as intelligent beings; they are like men in the amount of courage they can muster up; some are the veriest cowards and others are possessed of a dare-devil spirit. Horse science has proven that a clipped horse proper- ly cared for is even in the coldest weather, if in con- stant use, far more comfortable than those which are allowed to retain their full coat of hair. Man requires such work of the horse as to sweat him severely if his coat be long, and indeed it has been found so burden- some to a horse that when driven for any distance he would blow quite seriously, whereas after being clipped he could go without discomfort. If the long coat could be kept dry it would not be objectionable, but as soon as it becomes saturated with sweat it is a menace to health. It is necessary, of course, after the removal of the long coat, to provide a double allowance of cloth- ing, and avoid standing still out of doors without blankets after using, for any length of time. Properly cared for, however, the danger of a clipped horse tak- ing cold is much less than when the hair is long and wet with perspiration. A man who loves his horse, looking carefully to feed- ing and watering him, seldom has a sick one; it is the careless feeder whose horses often have colic and like disorders from improper and irregular feeding, which in other stock would give no bad results. Musty hay, oats and corn are not fit for food. Bedding should be 182 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY supplied in abuDdance and not allowed to lie in lumps or in an uneven manner, but kept constantly shaken up The bed should be raised along the side of the stall, wet parts and droppings removed and replaced with clean straw. This treatment, with disinfectants, will make the stable wholesome. For large establish- ments that have a number of loose boxes I advise the use of peat moss ; it is good for the feet and much cleaner and cheaper than straw, and does not attract flies. Don't send your new horse to the blacksmith to have his feet cut down to make them look small. In the writ- er's experience many horses have been ruined by the smith cutting the foot to fit the shoe,rather than mak- ing the shoe to fit the foot. Leave him plenty of sole; never let the knife be put into it, the rasp being far preferable. How would you feel if you had been wear- ing good sized, thick soled shoes and were put suddenly in slippers, and made to run over hard roads? Give your new purchase easy work; he may have come fresh from a feeding stable, and his muscles may not yet be hardened. Should your coachman find a swelling od the horse's tendons after a drive, see that he puts some EUimen's or other good liniment on the swollen parts, and ties a cold-water bandage around it, with a dry flannel bandage over that. Then lay the horse up for a few days and use your old horse, which, if you are wise, you have not yet sold. If the sick horse goes off his feed he has probably caught a cold, or had the acclimating fever, when a competent veterinary should be called. Don't use your horses morning, noon and night. Both OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 183 horses and coachman will serve you better and last longer if not taken out on stormj^ nighls, as will also your carriage. It will save you money in the long run. Now a word about coachmen. Don't change your man every three months; his business is really a profes- sion which must be learned and practiced, and in which only an intelligent man becomes duly proficient. Don't ask him to wash windows, clean off the steps or run errands and do odd jobs about the place. To keep his stable (and there are many handsome ones in America) and the equipments, vehicles and horses in order means hard and steady all-day work, and will keep him suffi- ciently busy — if he takes a proper pride in his berth. There is a good deal of rivalry among members of the fraternity as to who shall turn out the finest looking vehicles and accouterments and best kept horses. If you are going away for three months don't turn him loose; it would be wiser, if he suits you, to keep him on the pay-roll and know that the important work in his charge will not go undone during your absence. This, too, creates a desire on his part to take a deeper and more personal interest in the welfare of your es- tablishment, and there is no question but such a course would do away with certain practices which have un- fortunately crept in through introduction by some un- principled men of this class. There will always be a few such in every trade, and a person of this sort will always try to recoup himself for his loss of time by ob- taining commission upon some sale or purchase which will generally be found to be necessary. When he changes bis place, something will all at once mysteri- 184 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY ously ail the horses, and they too must be changed. But it is only due to the faithful and responsible men who fill these positions to say that the percentage of unreliable ones is singularly small, and doubtless some who have fallen might not have descended if sure of being settled from year's end to year's end on good behavior. A love of conscientious performances and identity with his master's fortunes and interests will do much toward keeping a good man straight, and re- claiming a dishonest one. HE TAKES A PROPER PRIDE IN HIS BERTH. GALLAGHER AND BROWN. Gallagher is the stockyards detective. Brown is the stockyards gatekeeper. Gallagher's occupation being peripatetic and Brown's stationary, the two men inev- '^KEEP MUM. itably meet at least once a day in the course of Gal- lagher's perambulations. This conversation, or some very like it, occur upon every such occasion: Gallagher to Brown: "What do you know?" Brown to Gallagher: "I don't know nuthin'. What do you?" 185 186 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY Gallagher: "Niithin'; only that I have a soft snap. I want to hold some one up. Haven't done a turn for five years. 1 went up to make a grab on old Phil, the 'con' steer, an' after walk in' a mile found he'd been dead six months. But I have a tip, Brown, a sixty to one shot. I'll give it to you if you don't give it away." Brown: "I'll go you." Gallagher: "Brown, up at the yards there's the squarest, straightest, soberest lot o' men anywhere on God's earth. Keep mum. I'm going to make a sneak for awhile. Keep cases on the craft as well as on the gate. Ta-ta!" Brown: "Ta-ta." WILL YOU BUY A CURLING IRON FOR YOUR BEST GIRL, SIR? THESE ARE NOT STARVED, CARE AND CONDITIONING OF HORSES. Don't starve your colts! Feed them well in winter months and house them warm. Brood mares that are fed a fair amount of oats a few months before foaling will produce stronger and healthier foals than those that are only fed on hay. Fuss with the colts in your spare winter hours; you will find it pays to get them used to the harness. And if you attend to their feet hy rasping there will be fewer splints. As the colts come along you may observe a dead, rough appearance to their coats, which is invariably caused by worms. To cure this give them half a pint of raw linseed oil, and repeat in ten days, feeding on soft feed in the interval. When you are getting the young stock ready for the buyer, take them up and stable them; blanket them, and have them well groomed ; it pays to give them plenty of "elbow grease" to make their coats sleek. 187 188 ILLUSTRATED HlSTORV If you have any curs or mongrels on your farm, cut them loosel it costs no more to feed a good colt than a bad one. And remember about feeding — that to stint your horses, especially those for sale, is a "penny wise and pound foolish'^ policy. It will usually be found necessary once in a while to mix a little ground linseed cake with the feed, A word to you, too, about the treatment of the stock. Whipping a shying, frightened, or balky horse is sense- less and cruel. Pain does not relieve fright, but the assuring voice of a kind master does. Whipping will make a confirmed shyer of the horse, for he will connect the pain with his fear. It would be well if every one owning, using, caring for, or dealing in horses, could be made to realize the essentially human character of most of the horse-traits observable. If this could be accomplished the effect should be to enlist every such person a volunteer member of a world-wide humane society, and extinguish forever the foolish and wicked disposition to abuse and belabor a horse which now possesses many who should know better. It has ever been a dictum of the writer (than whom scarcely any man has had wider horse experience), "Always treat a horse with kindness; never abuse a horse. " And the practice of this virtue is more than its own reward; the animal will reward you. For this he will love, serve and be a faithful friend to you. Many a fractious or balky horse has been transformed by a little kindness. Speak to such a one gently and soothingly, and, if frightened, reassuringly. He soon learns your voice and knows it as well as a human be- ing does. He will interpret its every tone, and be guided OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 189 thereby. When he has driven you well, give him a kindly pat, a hearty word, and an apple to eat, or a bit of sugar, and notice how almost human is his pride and gratification. Remember that this is a love and fealty which can never be bought. You cannot tempt him with gauds or any mercenary reward. The value of these he cannot know, but he will give you love for love, and that in no stinted measure. The writer once bought for eighty dollars a fine horse which had previously sold for $1,500, but whose temper had been ruined by injudicious handling. To drive her at first strained the muscles almost beyond endur- ance, and she jumped at every trifle. In a week's time through kindness and sympathy she was brought to go boldly past the object of her worst fears, and could be driven with the fingers of one hand. Have your horses nicely shod in front, and wljen you go to town take along your best horses and your Sun- day harness. Neither one will "wear out" very readily if they are the right sort, and appearances go a long way. Take a wholesome pride and pleasure in having your outfit all looking spick and span. Make it your business — and take pride in doing it — to show your stock to the local liverymen and veteri- naries, and if you have something good they are likely to soon send you plenty of buyers. Don't breed to a cheap stallion merely because it is convenient. Subscribe for The Horseman, Horse Re- view, Drover's Journal, Breeder's Gazette, The Rider and Driver, or some other good sporting paper, and know what is going on in the stock world. «'THE DUKE OF SOMERSET." A GOOD joke is told on William Potter in connection with the late Madison Square Horse Show, New York. New York is William's former home, and having been absent from there a number of years he decided '*THE DUKE." on this auspicious occasion to make it a visit and astonish the natives. So giving orders to his good wife to have his nether toggeries creased and his Prince Albert packed, he hied him away to the Lake Shore depot, and with a merry smile to the clerk called out, "First class and sleeper to New York I" Arriving at the metropolis, he attired himself in his new and superciliously correct dress suit, none other being fashionable at that swell horse show. 190 THE UNION STOCKYARDS 191 As he entered the show building he was observed by a bunch of cockney coachmen, one of whom remarked, "Get on to his nibs." '*Who is he?" asked another. "Hush I Why, that's the Duke of Somerset," an- swered a third. The story passed around and William became the cynosure of all eyes. William, who is a true type of an old-country dealer, and is as fond of a joke as any one, kept it up, and that is how he gained the sobriquet of the Duke of Somerset. Either under his own or assumed name he will always be ready to assist you — of course on a commission, which will be money well laid out. Long and prosperous life to William Potter, nlias the Duke of Somerset, than whom no man in America is a better judge of fine horses! SELLING. ADVICE TO COUNTRY SHIPPERS TO THE HORSE MARKET. Before leaving home write for the state of the market and, if possible, take advantage of the time when large combination sales are to be held, and you then get the benefit of their extensive advertising. Write to all your acquaintances in advance, giving them a general knowl- edge of what you are bringing. Don't be afraid of a few stamps to your friends; they can do some advertis- ing for you. Put your horses in nice condition — con- dition tells, and good grooming goes a long way. Don't ship any rough coated or thin horses, as they are not wanted at auction sales and do not pay to ship. Another thing. You, my friend, have felt, without doubt, the effects of a draught from an open car window or door on a train running forty miles an hour. Well, how do you suppose your stock get along in the ordinary car in which horses are shipped? If you area wise man you will order an Arm's palace car, where the animals will be as comfortable as if in their own stable, and can be attended to thoroughly, landing as well and hearty as when they left home. These cars are fitted up to hold eighteen horses, and the small extra charge will bean investment well made and which will amply repay you, as they arrive with- out sickness, shrinkage, or car-bruises. How often do you hear the auctioneer cry out, about a valuable horse 192 THE UNION STOCKYARDS 193 that was shipped as sound as a dollar, "Serviceably sound I Car-bruised I" when otherwise the sign "Sound" would have been hung up! This means a matter of $30 or $50 difference in his price, and is worth considering. Don't forget to bring along your warm blankets in winter, and summer clothing in summer. After you arrive at your desti nation have your horses put away quietly ;see that they have a nice, warm bran-mash and if they have come a long journey, under no condition show them to any one, as they are not up to themselves. Many a good sale is lost be- cause of anxiety to sell the moment of arrival. Be firm in this, and remember that "first impres- sions to a buyer go a long way." Your first business upon arriving should be to "can i sell you something, sir?" have your horses trimmed by an expert trimmer; trim- ming gives a finish to a horse as much as a clean shave does to a man. 194 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY When your horses are fit to show, be up bright and early for business, and don't refuse a profitable offer, remembering always that "a bird in hand is worth two in the bush." At the same time it is well to always ask more than you are prepared to accept, as a buyer will almost invariably want to buy cheaper. You can come down gracefully, but you cannot go up. When you come to town to sell horses, sell horses — don't go downtown to buy your best girl a frock; you can do that when the last "tail-ender" is gone, also "see the elephant" and "fight the tiger." Don't leave your business to a substitute; stay right alongside of your horses, never leaving them except for meals, and mak- ing that time as short as possible. Buyers like to run through the stable when it is quiet. Then again you both have more time to talk. Always carry a whip in your hand^ and have handy a neat show-bridle and brush to smooth the manes of the horses, and when they are trotted out the whip comes handy, as the animals are apt to be sluggish after a journey, and want waking up. Keep your horses up in their stalls; buyers sometimes miss a good horse in rushing through the stables through the horse's hanging his head, and thus not taking the passer's eye. Be on hand at all times to answer ques- tions, and don't be afraid to accost people who pass and repass. Don't judge a man by his clothes, and be pleasant to all, even the stable lads; a kind word now and then, and an occasional tip is never thrown away — they can all do you a good turn even if they them- selves don't want to buy. Do I see you smiling, sir? No matter; they can do you some good. Civility costs nothing, as the Dutch say of paint. or THE UNION STOCKYARDS 195 Have your bridle put on the pick of your lot and trot him out. You cannot do this too often, even though it is a little trouble, for it attracts attention and you do not know who may be around. It often leads to business. So don't wait to be asked to pull him out, but do it often of your own accord, especially if you see likely looking buyers about. Don't misrepresent your horses; tell the honest truth and you will make friends. If you are not a thorough judge of a sound horse you should not be in the business. Lastl3^5an intelligent dealer who attends to this busi- ness in a proper spirit will sell his shipment at a price which will well recompense liim for his trouble. A CLEVELAND BAY STATE CARRIAGE HORSE IN THE OLDEN TIMES. THE ITINERANT BARBER SHOP. There are eight or nine crews of horse barbers at the yards, and they are important features there. They do the transformation act on the country horses shipped to the yards to be sold. PUTTING RIBBONS IN HIS MANE. Country horses usually come in with a ragged fore- lock, a mane which straggles over both sides of the neck, long hair on their legs, and rough coats. The firjt thing the bright shipper does is to take his "string" around to the barber and have them trimmed, and the second thing he does is to hie himself to the near- est tonsorial artist and get a clean shave. 196 THE UNION STOCKYARDS 197 When the shipper and his horses meet again they don't know each other. The horses have smooth, shiny coats, their legs are clean and sleek to look at.and they have nice manes falling evenly over one side of the neck — and somehow the neck looks a good deal more arched that way — and there are bows of bright ribbon tied in the rippling locks, and bright ribbons are in the neatly braided tails; while the shipper himself is spick and span from his recent "brush-up." ''Golly," says the shipper, when he sees the horses, "I didn't know them horses could look like thati Ought to bring a good price lookin' so fine." The horses gaze at their owner and nudge each other as much as to say, "Gosh! Didn't know our boss was as good lookin' as thatl But he don't come up to us yet; he ain't got no ribbons in his mane." THE WIDOW OF THE DECEASED. ,FOR SALE— A widow lady, recently bereaved, will 'sell her late husbands fast trotting mare, Rosie R ; cost in Kentuck.v .11>3,000. Rosie R is sound, does not shy or wear boots; has no record ; can be driven at the to]) of her speed by a timid person in 30 Price to an . one who will give her a good home, .$350 Two weeks 'trial alio wed. Apply at stables, rear 4737 Ketchem Blvd. It is only an advertisement, A great many people notice it. Some read it casually, as they would the ad. of a strong German girl who wants a situation as gen- eral houseworker; otiiers, generally sporting men, laugh when they read it, growing quite hilarious as they tell each other reminiscences which seem in some way to bear upon the advertisement; a third class read it, read it again, and then call on their wives to pack their valises at once, as they must catch a train. The latter class is composed of country people and city merchants who think a good deal about fast horses, but know very little about them. A well known and prosperous merchant sits at his Sun- day morning breakfast in a large city not a hundred miles from Chicago. He is lingering luxuriously over his coffee and Sunday morning paper. He reads the political news first and then the foreign news. The ad. sheet is a i^age he never looks at except when he wants something in particular. Just now he wants some- thing in particular. The recently bereaved widow's ad. catches his eye. He hurriedly gulps down his coffee and hastens to the telephone. ''East, 105," he says, 198 'She union stockyards 199 and a minute later: "Hello, Lowell, be at the club at 11:15 sharp, will you? Think I've found the snap we want. All right. Good-bye." At 11:15 sharp our merchant and Lowell meet at the club. "See that," says the merchant, throwing down the paper. "I think that is about the horse we want," Lowell looks at it critically, with the air of a man who is called upon to prove his judgment. The mer- chant thinks Lowell is horse wise, Lowell thinks so too— only more so. "Yes, that looks good. But if you want it you'll have no time to lose. Better run up on the seven train in the morning." That suits our mer- chant, and by 10:30 Monday morning our two friends are in a hansom driving post haste to 4787 Ketchem Boulevard. GO AROUND AND SEE MY MAN JOHN. 200 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY Their pasteboards are presented to the recently be- reaved widow, who comes to the door in deepest and swel- lest weeds, with a winning smile lighting up the weepy pallor of her countenance. "I must ask you to go around and see my man John," she says in a gracious voice in which there is a pathetic sound of tears. Our two men almost prostrate themselves in apologizing for their in- trusion upon the charming little widow's grief. They feel as they betake themselves to the stables that they must be a born combination of the blockhead and brute to have thought for a moment of seeing the widow in person about the horse. Bad enough that she must part with her husband's pet that she shouldn't be bothered with selling it, too. ''My man John" is a most obliging and well trained coachman. When he puts his heels together and touches his crepe-banded hat respectfully the men from the large city not a hundred miles from Chicago feel that he is the soul of honesty. The stable is magnificent, and there is a display of costly equipages and glittering har- ness. Rosie R is found in a padded stall, and is a good- looking specimen of the equine race. The two men fancy they see points worth $3,000 all over her. They call up a picture of Rosie R in a glittering harness, drawing a swell little carriage with the sweet little widow hand- ling the ribbons. And then they feel that it was beastly for her husband to die and leave her without the means to keep Rosie R. They also see in imagination them- selves breaking the record of the fastest horse in their city with Rosie R, scooping up the shekels from the boys. OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS Lowe]], remembering liis tiorse wisdom, slips a ten dollar bill into John's hand for points on Kosie R. John l^nows a great deal about Rosie R, for he was his late dear master's right-hand man in horse matters, but he doesn't know a single, solitary point in Rosie R's disfavor, Our^^' merchant is wonderfully impressed with | 7 her, but says he wants to see her trot before talking her. So John has her in a buggy in a jiffy and starts down the boule- vard. Our friends are ignorant of the city «myman^ohn." ordinances regarding fast driving on the Chicago boule- vards, so when a policeman shouts at them about half a bloclc from the starting place, "You there, I'll pull you in for furious drivin' on the strate, shure, ef ye don't sthop!" they are nonplussed, but they don't say anything. They wouldn't for the world have John thinly that the city not a hundred miles from Chicago is not fully as big as Chicago, and possessed of mj^sterious regulations against "furious drivin' on the strate." As they drive back to the stable again another buyer is coming around the corner of the house in search of "my man John." He is evidently an expert on horseflesh, for it doesn't take him long to decide that Rosie R is all and more than she is said to be, and he signifies his eagerness to possess her. Our merchant grows anxious. He would like to have seen her trot, but it won't do to let this new buyer get ahead of him and get her. He makes signs to John not to be in a hurry; Lowell makes signs too. But John is in a corner evidently arranging 202 ILLUSTRATED lilSTORY terms with the new buyer, and is blind to signs Our merchant becomes more anxious as he sees John taking down Rosie R's silver mounted harness. It's now or not at all, and he says conclusively, "I'll take her." John is all regrets for the new gentleman's disappoint- ment, and expresses them as profusely as his great def- erence will allow. "But, you see, sir," he concludes, "these gentlemen came first. " The gentlemen who came first miss the wink which accompanies this remark as John prepares Rosie R for her departure. A little while later $850 is in John's pocket, while Rosie R and a re- ceipt for her price are in the possession of the gentle- men from the large city not a hundred miles from Chicago, where they are going to astonish the natives with their trotting snap. When they are well out of sight John and the new buyer hie themselves to the house, where they find the weepy widow convulsed, not with weeping, but with laughter. John and the new buyer join the chorus; they open a bottle of wine, and the trio drink to the speed of Rosie R and the happiness of the sucker who is born every minute. The bottle disposed of, the widow dons her weepy expression, the "new buyer" disappears around the corner,and John brings forth another horse from another part of the stable and puts her in Rosie R's padded stall. In a little while around the corner of the house comes a man, evidently from the country, perspiring profusely in his eagerness to get there, who has been referred by the widow to "my man John." The new Rosie R is trotted out. The man from the country likes her, but OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 20IJ is inclined to insist upon the ''two weeks' trial al- lowed." Jnst at this juncture the "new buyer" swings around the corner of the house. He is delighted with the new Rosie R. He remarks to the man from the country, as John trots her up and down, "That mare will make another Maud S if you put her on the race track." The man from the country is gullible but not guileless, and as his intention is to get a horse to trot at the races, this remark appeals to him mightily. In imagination he already sees himself on a sulky behind Rosie R's flying heels, coming in first on the homestretch amidst the plaudits of the farmers. Still, he would like to see her trot before paying out his money. The new man, on the contrary, evidently feels quite safe in his knowledge of horses, and begins to close the bargain. The man from the country slides up to John's ear and says, "Five dollars for yourself if you let me have her." John is again very sorry for the new buyer. "But the other gentleman came first, and you know, sir, it's 'first come, first served.'" And so the game goes on all day. As many as a dozen Rosie R's occupy the padded stall in succession. In the evening the widow, recently bereaved, the "new buyer" and "my man John" vacate the premises. They take with them a hall rug, a hall chair and a hall tree. These constitute the whole furniture of the house. They also take with them two or three thousand dol- lars, the result of one day's work. This is the modus operandi of one of the many sorts of confidence games played in a great city. This game is so old that there is hardly any excuse for its victims 204 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY The fact that it is widely and successfully played with impunity proves how gullible mankind is, and how averse to making its folly known when it is duped. The "widow, recently bereaved,'' is more often than not the wife of "my man John," and the "new buyer" is a confederate. Even the policeman on the corner gets a bit of the "swag" to be on hand at the right moment to threaten arrest for "furious drivin' on the strate" when "Rosie R" is taken out to be speeded on the boulevard. The swell residence is rented; or maybe only the key has been obtained from the unsuspecting agent. The hall is furnished to allow the prospective purchasers a glimpse of a furnished interior as the "widow" opens the door and refers them to "my man John." The stable is hastily fitted up for the occasion with swagger carriages and harnesses. The Rosie R's sold have very likely never trotted fast enough in their lives to keep themselves warm. They are bought cheap, probably the most any one of them cost being $75. Once in a great while the dupes kick. Sometimes they write their grievance to the "widow" and some- times they come back with the horse. If they write they get no answer, and if they come back they find the swell residence vacated. The police are appealed to, but the police can't help them— at least they never do. Sometimes, instead of the sale by the recently be- reaved widow, it is an administrator's sale. Then the advertisement is long and grandiloquent: f^^=a>FOR SALE— Administrator's sale, the contents of a ■ ^^^ private stable, consistins of the followino- desirable horses: Mambrino CJirl, by Red Wilkes, out of Mam brino Patchen mare; is six years old, 15.3)^ high. Has show^n OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 205 private trials better than '30 ; has no public record. Fear- less of any object ; does not shy or pull ; safe for the most timid person to drive at height of her speed. She wears no boots nor weights. A grand mare in company, smgle or to the pole. Time shown to purchaser. Also trottmg geld- ing Billy Brown, seven years old, 15^ hands; will trot heat better than 30 ; he has no public record, but has been driven by his late owner in show time. He wears nothing but quarter boots. No horse jockeys need apply, as the object is not the price these horses will bring, but to get them out of city to good homes where they will not be tracked or campaigned. To be sold at the same time, one Brewster side-bar ^-seat; top buggy, pole and shafts; one speedmg cutter; one set road double harness by Duncan, New York; beside all other articles pertaining to stables. Address C K. Harris, 110-111 Cheetyoo Bldg. When this long-winded ad. appears there is, instead of the swell residence inhabited by the widow, a sump- tuous suite of offices in an expensive downtown office building, occupied by a gentleman of imposing presence. On the outer door is an inscription like this: C. K. Harris Real Estate, Mortgages, Loans, Bonds Bur bank Estate In the anteroom stands a boy in elegant livery. It is the duty of this "Buttons" to impress upon the call- ers—usually church elders, slick would-be sports from the country, or smart Alecs with the wisdom of Solo- mon from the city—the busy importance of his master. When the caller makes known his business Buttons re- fers him to "my man John," who is an indispansable adjunct to this game, no matter what the accessories. John, with many scrapes and bows, ushers the caller into a splendidly furnished inner office, where the gen- 206 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY tleman of imposiDg presence is found busily engaged in filling in checks with no less than four figures. He doesn't deign to look up when John enters; he is ap- parently quite too occupied with business involving thousands, if not millions, to heed the entrance of his man. John stands respectfully waiting permission to speak. At last the great man tears out a check, and touching his bell imperiously, brings "Buttons" scud- ding in. "Give this check on the First National to White; tell him to settle Smith & Jones' claiui, and bring the other $2,000 to me; tell him to hurry up. Now, John, what do you want?" John's head ducks nearly to his toes in a profound bow as he announces: "Here's a gentleman, sir, wants to buy Mambrino Girl, sir." "Oh, I can't talk horse today, John. I'm too busy — too busy to say a word about it, I tell you. Take the gentleman out and show him the horse. Pardon me, sir," and the gentleman of imposing presence turns his head half way toward his caller, "I am too busy today to talk about this matter, but my man John here will show you the mare." The caller, who may be consid- erable of a swell himself when he is at home, is so im- pressed by this sumptuously surrounded great man that he forgets to be offended at the scant courtesy with which he is relegated to the hands of John. John is equal to the occasion, and conducts the caller to a stylish carriage conveniently waiting, and caller and carriage are whirled over the boulevards behind a pair of high steppers which set the caller speculating as to their value. John is talkative, however, once out- op THE UNION STOCKYARDS 207 side his master's presence, and engages the calJer with a description of his late master, "Mr. Burbank's," wealth and appreciation of fine horses. According to John, "Mr. Burbank" thought no price too high to pay for a horse that suited him. "There wa'n't no better judge of fine horses in the country than Mr. Burbank,'' he goes on. "It's different, now, with Mr. Harris; he don't know much about horses; he's a damn fool; he's all for — see that brown stone over there (pointing to P. D. Armour's million dollar residence)? That's part of the Burbank estate. Mr. Harris, he's all for dogs. Paid $1,300 for a dog yesterday. That's nothing for him ; he paid nearly three times that for a pair of mastiffs last winter. There's a house belongs to Mr. Harris, worth about a million and a halt Mr. Burbank had the finest string of trotters I ever see, and I've seen a good many, being with Mr. Burbank about fifteen years last De- cember, just before he died. I guess I know about as much about horses myself as any man in the state. Here we are, sir," and the carriage rolls up before a handsome stable. As the caller follows John into the stable he is daz- zled by the broad view he gets of a carriage room fairly a-glitter with swell equipages and silver-mounted har- ness. Mambrino Girl is led out for his inspection, and she is so well groomed and so respectfully handled that he is unconsciously convinced that she is indeed a val- uable animal, although upon first sight she really does not look much better than his own filly at home, upon whom. he has always looked with some contempt for her jnalMike pace. But then, he reflects, you can't always 208 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY judge by appearances. He says he would like to see Mambrino Girl trot. Somehow, just as John is od the point of gratifying his desire, a very swell looking man appears on the scene. The swell looking man has come to look at Mambrino Girl; he knows Mambrino Girl well; he also knows John well — John touches his hat to him most deferentially — and was an intimate friend of Mr. Burbank. John asks the caller in a whisper if he knows Mr. Potter Palmer, or Mr. Vanderbilt or Montgomery Sears, as the case may be, and if he does not he is at once introduced. The caller has seen pic- tures of the gentleman named and the swell looking man bears a striking resemblance to the pictures. Of course it never occurs to him that the swell looking man has been made a confederate of the gentleman of imposing presence and of "my man John" just for the money value of his striking resemblance to some prom- inent millionaire. Naturally he doesn't doubt Mr. —let us say Vander- bilt — when he talks of having sat behind Mambrino Girl speeding at 2:80. That would be obviously absurd. Mr. Vanderbilt doesn't exactly want Mambrino Girl himself — he already has so many fast horses — but he hates to see his old friend's favorite go into the hands of a man who will campaign her. In fact would rather take her himself than have that happen. The caller hastens to assure him that he has no intention whatever of campaigning her (nine times out of ten that's a lie; he probably wants to start her in a free-for-all in the spring meeting, to skin the town with her if he can). Mr. Vanderbilt assures the caller of his appreciation of his OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 209 intentions not to campaign her, and says he would really like to see Mambrino Girl in the caller's posses- sion. The caller is tickled by this flattery from a great man. He almost decides to take Mambrino Girl, but not quite; he seems to want to see John alone first. Mr. Vanderbilt scents his desire and goes to attend a conference of railroad magnates — around the corner. Shortly thereafter John and the caller re-enter the car- riage to return to the office and arrange matters with the gentleman of imposing presence. In the meantime John has been let into the secret of the caller's desire for Mambrino Girl; incidentally he has also received a fifty-dollar bill to give the caller straight tips on Mam- brino Girl. The caller wants a horse to put on the track at home that will make the natives green with envy, and he thinks Mambrino Girl will just fill the bill. John helps him to think so. They reach the sumptuous offices again, and find the gentleman of imposing presence busy, preparatory to going out. John puts his heels together and ducks his body as he announces that "the gentleman has decided to take the horse, sir." "Are you sure that horse is going into proper hands, John?" asks "C. K. Harris, " pompousty. The caller hastens to assure him that he can give the best of refer- ences. "As administrator of this estate, sir, I must see that these horses go into proper hands. I'll drive over and look up these references at once. John, brush my clothes, quick now," 210 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY "Don't talk that way to me, "growls John, under his breath, whisking vigorously at his ''master's" coat, "or I'll hit you over the head with the broom." By this time the caller is perspiring with anxiety, particularly as John keeps nudging him to pay out his money at once. But the administrator seems bent on discharging his duty to his deceased client faithfully, and off he carries his imposing presence. He slips down to a saloon where he looks up a thing or two which aren't references; then he takes a turn at the free lunch to cover up the fragrance of the thing or two, and goes leisurely back to his sumptuous office, his pres- ence becoming more portly with every step he takes in that direction. "I think you will do, sir, " he says to the waiting caller. Then after a little more pompous parley the caller gets a chance to plank down his money. He is now happy. There is just one thing more; he wants a pedigree of Mambrino Girl. "Oh, yes, of course," says the administrator, who is taking out his check book again to continue his important occupation of filling in figures, "John, where are those pedigrees?" "Yes, sir, they're down at the factory, sir." "Get them as soon as they are ready and mail one to the gentleman." "Yes, sir; all right, sir." The caller's happiness is now complete, and he goes off to take his departure with his prize. In his pocket is a receipt for his money w^hich reads so assuringly that he likes to think of it. "Received of John W. Baxter the sum of $500, being payment in full for one bay mare, Mambrino Girl. Said mare is warranted kind OF THE UNION STOOKYARDS 211 and true in every respect, and free from all incum- brances. She eats and takes her rest well. The said mare is guaranteed to trot a full mile in 2:80 when in condition and with proper handling. Ten days' trial allowed. If said mare does not prove to be as represent- ed in this instrument money will be refunded. Signed, "C. K. Harris." Could anything be more fair and reassuring? Ten to one no sooner are John and the caller beyond the doors of the sumptuous suite in the expensive office building downtown than another sucker calls in regard to the trotter which is to be sold at such a bargain on condition that she be not campaigned. "Buttons" in- forms the man of imposing presence of the sucker's business. The doors to the splendid inner offices are all open, and the sucker conceives a mighty respect for the dead man whose estate is being administered by the oc- cupant of such a swelldom, for the occupant himself, and for the estate, particularly that portion of it advertised as Mambrino Girl. He also hears the man of imposing presence order Buttons not to admit him (the sucker), that he has a bank directors' meeting to attend, that he can't possibly be bothered by all these people run- ning after Mambrino Girl, and to tell him (the sucker) that he may come later in the day. The sucker departs anxiously. The man of imposing presence takes the trolley to the stockyards, buys a horse for $50, tele- phones to John to come and get her '^and fix her up," and hurry down to the office. The man of imposing presence then hurries back to the office himself. By and by John comes back also. So does the sucker. 212 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY John and the man of imposing presence go through their respective parts again, and with such good effect that the sucker nearly has the buttons pulled off his coat in his anxiety to get out his pocketbook and make a de- posit on Mambrino Girl. The second Mambrino Girl is soon sold. That she takes the lung fever over night is no hindrance to the bargain. The sucker wants to see the horse off on the train himself, but the gentleman of imposing presence has thawed out and waves such an idea to the winds. "My men will attend to all that, " he says, and carries the sucker off in the swell carriage drawn by the high steppers to show him the postoffice and city hall and other city sights. And when the sucker gets home he fancies that Mambrino Girl's lung fever was contracted on the train. And so the play goes merrily on. The administra- tor's sale and the widow, recently bereaved, have many variations. But they all have one trait in common — they are all successful. They are so successful that in many cases the administrator and "my man John" retire, and li\'e in splendor, as well as in respectabil- ity, on the profits of innumerable sales of Rosie R's and Mambrino Girls. There is one now living on Prairie Avenue, Chicago, who is married to a society belle. The society belle has not the remotest idea of the nature of her husband's past business, of course. There was a sucker once who was the chief of police in his own town. He wanted a horse to skin the boys with at the state fair races, and thought he had got a peach from the administrator's sale. He took her to a little town a few miles from home to do a little trim- OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 213 miDg before showing her. A week after he wrote to the administrator, "She can't trot in 5:80, let alone 2:30. Did you mean thirty minutes when you said she could trot in '30?" He received no reply. Three months later he was in Chicago. He met the administrator face to face in front of the postoffice. "Pardon me, isn't your name Harris?" he asked. "No, sir," answered the administrator. "But didn't you sell me a horse three months ago?" "No, sir, I never sold a horse in my life." "Didn't you have an office in the Cheetyoo Building three months ago?" ^ "No, sir, I never had an office in any building in this city. You're mistaken in your man, sir. Good-day." "Well, if it wasn't you, you must have a twin brother in the real estate business," persists the chief of police in his own town. "No, sir, I have no twin brother. The only brother I have is a dwarf and an idiot. He isn't in any busi- ness." "Well then, aren't you a gentleman of imposing pres- ence who sat in a swell office three months ago and helped your man John sell me a horse?" "No, sir, I'm a small man who wouldn't impose my presence upon such a gentleman as you to help any man's John. Good-day." "I beg your pardon. Good-day." And the chief of police in his own town sat down on the stone wall, and looked after the vanishing figure of the gentleman of imposing presence with a dazed expression. "I'm a sucker," he whispered to himself, "and if I don't take care some one will find it out." SEA-FARING ON CATTLE BOATS. In this day and generation it does not take the pub- lic long to find out a good thing, and so the traveling public has discovered that crossing the ocean on a cat- tle boat is a delight hitherto unknown, and an econo- my until now despaired of. And that is how it happens that so many cattle boats now carry passengers. The favorite steamer for this sort of voyage is a cattle boat, belonging to the Wilson Line of steam- ers, running between New York, London, Liverpool, Gothenburg, Antwerp and Havre. This cattle boat is a very handsome vessel, and one of the staunchest which ever rode old Neptune's treacherous back. It has elegant accommodations for fifty first class passengers, beside a capacity for 8,000 horses, 1,200 cattle and 3,000 sheep, and also a place for thousands of tons of freight. The freight charges for horses are $20 per head; cattle, $8; sheep, $1. It used to be necessary to hoist these enormous numbers of horses and cattle on board very much as stones are raised by a derrick, but that has been done away with by the Wilson Line, whose cargoes of live stock are now walked up a gang plank just as they would be in being loaded on a train. The passengers, however, are really the most inter- esting "live stock" transferred across the water by the up-to-date cattle boats, and James P. Robertson, the 214 A MODERN CATTLE BOAT, PROPERTY OF THE WILSON LINE. 216 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY Chicago agent for the Wilson Line, tells many funny stories of the '^innocents abroad" on their vessels But tales of travel by this mode all have one thing in common — their refrain is the happiness and jolly good- nature of the passengers. The passengers have all the comforts and many more liberties and resources than the passengers on other steamers. If dancing, music, story-telling, and even lounging grow wearisome, they have a never failing resort in the cattle-hold, and the cry, "Let us call on our fellow-travelers, the steers, in the 'steerage,'" rises when ennui threatens. And, between you and me and the fencepost, the ladies are always ready to visit the "steerage," for the captain always tells them — each lady in confidence, of course — of the celebrated beauty, but rather notorious countess, who had a cow stable built near her palace that she might spend at least an hour a day there, for the countess knew all the secrets of beauty, and therefore knew that the sweet odor of the cow's breath is amongst the best of complexion rem- edies; and indeed, according to history, this countess did thus i)reserve her beautiful comiDlexion until her death. Perhaps it is because of this that the ladies are so sorry when the voyage ends, and as the voyage is made in ten days, of course the gentlemen have not tired of it either, and so there is general lamentation when the cattle boat makes her port. And why shouldn't there be, for who that has ever been "rocked in the cradle of the deep" in such a boat will say that it is Dot simply^^great"? BILLY THE LETTER-CARRIER, ''Billy," the letter-carrier who has distributed mail through the stockyards district for the past fifteen years, is ODe of the best known characters of the neighbor- hood. Striding along with the even step of a mechan- ical walking man, Billy's familiar figure, shining face, and cheery smile are ever pleasing to look upon and welcomed by all. Billy has a wide-spreading reputation as a sprinter, having won in several eight day "go-as-you-please" contests, but what has really made him famous is the knowledge of horseflesh and stock market valuations he has acquired during the years he has been around the yards. In the horse market timid buyers seek his advice before deciding upon the qualities of a horse or filly— Billy knows a lot about fillies— and, so valuable is his opinion considered, though he is always tidy and trim in his dress, as is befitting one of Uncle Sam's rep- resentatives, poor Billy has great difficulty in keeping 217 21^ ILLUSTRATEb HISTORY the buttons on his uniform. He is constantly being submitted to buttonholing by those wishing advice or information. When a dispute arises which cannot be settled, re- garding the weight of a hog or a steer, all discussion is deferred till "Billy comes down the line." He will not stop with the mail in charge, but sticking his thumb into the ribs of a steer, instantly pronounces judgment, which is never questioned, "Nine hundred and ninety," or, giving a crippled hog a dig with his toe, "Four hun- dred and forty, worth two and one-half." The story is told that, during the great storm of 1882, Billy turned up missing. After the storm blew over he was discovered up in the weighing division of the hog department, half frozen, and when brought to con- sciousness, the first words he uttered were "four hun- dred and forty." Billy, whose real name is William Torruochlen (he is called Billy by everybody, for, while there are a good many jaws broken at the yards they are mostly steers' jaws, and no human is willing to break his in pronouncing a name, not even Billy's), is the essence of a gentleman, strictly attentive to business, prompt in the performance of duty. He is kindly spoken of by all who know him, probably has more friends than any other man connected with the yards,and what Billy does not know about Texas steers and Poland-China hogs isn't worth trying to find out. Beside that, he is big on politics and carries the Twenty-ninth Ward in his vest pocket. Oh my, you should hear one of his political speeches on what he knows about civil service and postal reform I ,.,4,l|ll|»''l:ilPj| TRANSIT HOUSE. The entire management of this famous hotel is per- fect. The rooms are kept scrupulously clean in every particular, and an abundance of the finest linen de- lights the patrons. The manager, L. E. Howard, reveals not only a thor- ough experience in catering, but a knowledge of the in- tricacies of conducting a hotel which is seldom found in any one person. He has solved the problem of how to give elegant rooms with the very best of meals for $2.00 to $2.50 per day. There is more wealth housed under the roof of the Transit House every night than under that of any other hotel in Chicago. There are more solid (in pocket and body) bachelors making it their home and taking things easy than in any other hotel in the West. In deed, what the once famous Royal Hotel of New Or- leans was to the prosperous planter in the early part 219 220 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY of the century, the Transit House is to the wealthy stockman of the West. Those who have never visited in the neighborhood of this hotel will be agreeably surprised by making it an evening call, when in its extensive corridors and spacious reading-rooms will be found groups of mil- lionaires from San Francisco, Montana and Wyoming, capitalists, cattle kings, stock raisers and well-to-do busi- ness men of the city who are lovers of good cheer, of old wine and juicy beef. There is a popular supposi- tion that the best beef raised in this country goes to Europe, but Manager Howard is a connoisseur in the selection of beef and gets his share of that selected for Europe. The Transit House is reached from downtown by the electric cars and the "alley L," which connect with lines running to all the depots, theaters, the city hall, postoffice and business houses. A TERROR SUBDUED. THE BELLE OF THE STOCKYARDS. She is a daughter of Erin first and the child of a father who died for his country second — just as her father would have liked her to be. Like most of the maidens of the Emerald Isle, she has hair as crisp and blue-black as a blackbird's wing, and big blue-gray eyes of that particular mixture which none but an Irish girl has ever dared to wear— sweet, open eyes like a new-born calf's when she happens to be thinking, but deep, dark punds of roguishness, not to say deviltry, when the boys come her way. She has a broad fore- 221 222 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY head with a few black tendrils just creeping out where the flesh and hair meet, much more worth the eulogy of a poet than that lady's lock Pope has made immortal, heavy black brows and silken fringes over her eyes. The rest of her face is pretty, like tha faces of all Irish- American girls — a marvelous skin with a suggestion of freckles when the wind blows, a nose tilting skyward just enough to prove the owner's aspirations, a full mouth which tempts a man to kiss it while it defies him on pain of being bitten to do it, and there are two rows of snowy ivory behind the lips to fulfill the threat. When you see Kitty — Kitty Malorey her name is, but she is Kitty to everybody and Miss Malorey to nobody but the frequently occurring young gosling who would give his eyes to have her and hasn't any- thing but his tongue to support his pretensions — well, when you see Kitty walk into the yards of a morning with a step as light as a maverick's and a face as bright as a pink morning-glory, you would not think that her shoulders bear the burden of supporting a dear old mother. Probably Kitty does not think it either, for if you ask her she will tell you that she "lives with her mother," never having realized that her mother lives with her, and she says it in a way which tells you that she doesn't want your interest. Kitty is employed in the Exchange Building. She has made all the money she ever had in the stock- yards. She gets $9 per week, working from eight o'clock until six. When she went to work there five years ago as a little miss of fourteen she earned only $3, but whatever the amount, it has kept Kitty and her OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 223 mother in bread and butter and put a roof over them from the day she first drew her wages until the present. She has grown into womanhood at the stockyards, and the man who has not a place for Kitty in his heart, has not himself a place in many hearts at the yards, for the simple reason that he must be unknown there. Kitty has the courage of a heroine. If occasion pre- sented she would be a Grace Darling, or even a Joan of Arc, minus the visions. In fact she has demonstrated her courage and presence of mind to such good effect as to save a human life. This is how it came about: One day at the noon hour Kitty stood in the doorway of the Exchange Building. The sunshine was very en- ticing, and Kitty's thoughts wandered away to green meadows starred with buttercups and daisies and to purling brooks kissing the lips of over-hanging blue- bells. As her mind dwelt upon this rural picture her eyes noted an old acquaintance, Sergeant Moran, lit- erally an arm of the law at the yards, passing down the avenue on his way from the yards after making his rounds. Kitty nodded to the sergeant and he touched his cap to her, and then passed on out of Kitty's sight. One minute later instead of the sergeant her eyes rested on a bull charging down the avenue, his eyes glaring red and angry, his head lowered threateningly. He was evidently a wild bull escaped from a herd, and mad- dened by pursuit. Kitty's mind grasped the situation in a flash. A few yards away walked the sergeant, ob- viously lost in thought; behind him came the infuriated bull, the sound of his hoofs muffled by the soft earth. A tragedy was imminent. Would she have time to 224 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY prevent it? She sprang inside to a hat rack and snatch- ing a man's scarlet muffler, ran into the street. Twenty yards to the right walked Sergeant Moran, ten yards to the left came the bull. A cry of warning left Kitty's lips as she reached the street, another cry and still an- other before the sergeant heard and heeded. She waved the scarlet muffler before the on-coming animal's eyes, those eyes that were so terribly near and glared at her so ferociously as they caught sight of the flutter- ing bit of scarlet. Nearer! Nearer I There was no time for a prayer, but a murmur, ''Holy mother, help me," came from her lips as the girl sprang aside withthe nimbleness of a toreador, just as the beast lowered his head hardly two feet away. Turn about came the huge head with the red, glaring eyeballs I Another spring away from the lowered horns 1 Then a clattering of hoofs, a roar of shouts and of shots filled the girl's ears, and be- fore she knew what had happened the bull staggered and fell in the very act of turning upon her again I Kitty staggered and fell, too. She didn't faint, no in- deed, but it had all been so sudden, so quick, so awful, that although it was only one minute since she first saw the brute coming, it seemed to her a whole week of horror, when the danger was past, and nerves and mus- cles collapsed. Policeman Murphy, they told her, had fired the shot which brought down the bull, and as Kitty turned to thank the valiant "limb of the law" for saving her life, Sergeant Moran poured out his gratitude to brave young Kitty for saving his. Police- man Murphy didn't want thanks for merely doing his duty, he said; Kitty didn't deserve any gratitude for OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 225 merely doing what any one would have done under the same circumstances, she said, and so the rescued and the rescuers gazed at each other for a moment in con- fusion. Evidently, as one of the rescuers was also a rescued, she would have to take her own medicine in taking gratitude, or else refrain from thanking her own rescuer. But the difficulty was gotten over with a hearty laugh and a still heartier handclasp, and every- thing that wasn't said was understood. Kind hands helped Kitty into the Exchange Build- ing, and words of praise and admiration were heaped upon her at every step. As she stood in the doorway, her trembling yet smiling lips trying to form the words, "Oh, please, don't! It wasn't anything much. Every- body would do the samel" Sergeant Moran cried, "Let's give three cheers and a tiger for Kitty Ma- loreyl" And thereupon the crowd took up the cry, and "Three cheers and a tiger for Kitty Malorey!" rang out upon the mid-day air from a hundred throats. An hour later Kitty was at her work as usual, the dead bull had been removed, and no one would have known that anything unusual had occurred. Kitty herself was calmest of all, only a little pallor on the usually rosy cheek showing that she had passed through an ordeal which would have tried the nerve of the strongest man. Of such stuff are heroines made. Blood will tell, and the girl who could risk her life to save that of a fellow creature is worthy of the best lot which falls to woman- kind — a husband who shall combine all the virtues, not omitting riches, and a place in the hearts of all who know her or hear of her bravery. THE CAN-RUSH. At twelve o'clock that great high Doon function, the grand Can-Rush, begins among the packing-house men. Half a minute after the blowing of the whistle an army THE CAN-RUSHERS COMING. of men and boys surges through the gates, Every one is on a dead run, every one is breathing hard with the violence of his exertions, every one looks straight ahead with an earnestness which says plainer than words that something more than life or death is at stake. The 226 THE UNION STOCKYARDS 227 problem which coDfronts each is, how to get his can filled and return to his place in thirty minutes! Hav- ing secured the beer, milk, coffee, tea— whatever the "tipple" is each favors most— the men rush out of doors to eat and drink for a few moments. The street, the curb, and the benches, in the sun and in the shade, are lined and filled with men as quickly as they can place themselves. When at last the cans are empty and the food demolished the return march begins, but now at a leisurely walk THE CAN-RUSHERS "aT WORK." COMMISSION, FEED CHARGES, DOCKAGE, IN- SPECTION, ETC. Commissions. — Fifty cents per head for cattle of al] ages up to $12 per load. Veal calves in less than car lots not less than 25 cents per head. Double deck cars of calves $18. Double deck car loads of hogs and sheep $10. Mixed car loads of stock, 50 cents per head for cattle, 25 cents per head for calves, 10 cents for hogs and sheep up to, but not to exceed, $12 per car load. Thirty- head and over of hogs and sheep arriving at these yards in a single car to constitute a single load, will be charged $6 per car. Less than Car Load Lots. — Fifty cents per head for cattle, 25 cents per head for calves — under thirty head of hogs or sheep 15 cents per head. Inspection. — Hogs are inspected by a hog inspector, for which a charge of 10 cents per car is made; stags are docked 80 pounds per head, piggy sows 40 pounds per head. Feed Charges. — Corn, $1 per bushel; timothy hay, $80 per ton; prairie hay, $20 per ton. Yardage Charges. — Cattle, 25 cents per head; calves, 15 cents per head; hogs, 8 cents per head; sheep, 5 cents per head. Dockage. — Broken-ribbed and bruised cattle are docked $5 per head, dead hogs, 100 pounds and over, ^ cent per pound, and less than 100 pounds, of no value. 228 ONE KIND OF STICK-TO-ATIVENESS. While everybody gets a square deal at the yards, Dot every man who comes there with something for sale is willing to give one himself. One excitable man with a faculty for getting the best of his fellow men came to the yards the other day, and may be used as an illustration. This man, beside the failings already noted, was very positive in all his state- ments, and would stand by every one of them most im- partially, whether right or wrong. He brought with him to the yards a horse, which he thought a remarkable animal, but which he wanted to sell nevertheless. The horse, however, was not nearly so remarkable as his owner. The man expatiated at length upon the physical and mental attributes of the horse, concluding the eulogy by stating that he was seventeen feet high. This statement was, of course, a slip of the tongue, and the commission man to whom the horse was being offered drew his attention to the slip by say- ing, "You mean seventeen hands high." The correc- tion had to be repeated several times before the man succeeded in comprehending it, and when the difference between feet and hands as applied to measuring horses finally penetrated the ox-like covering of his brain, he had to stop to consider whether he really meant seven- teen feet or seventeen hands. At last he asked: "Did I say seventeen feet?" "That's what you said." "Well," he exclaimed conclusively, "then the horse IS seventeen feet high I" 229 DAILY DROVERS' JOURNAL. Union Stockyards, Chicago, June 11, 1896, HORSES. Quotations for horses, Union Stockyards market. Descriptioii. Poor to Fair. Good to Choice. Draft horses $ 55@ 80 $110@150 Chunks, 1300@ 1400 lbs 45@ 60 70@100 Streeters 50@ 60 65@ 90 Drivers 40@ 70 100@200 General use 20@ 40 45@ 60 Carriage teams 200@250 800@650 Saddlers 30@ 75 125@200 Plugs and rangers 4@ 10 15@ 80 Horse Auction. — Although the volume of receipts are light they are practically steady as compared with the run last week, there being 1,289 arrivals and 681 ship- ments reported up to yesterday's closing, against 1,809 arrivals and 685 shipments for the same period last week. The feature of the trade was the large number of finished heavy drafters on the market that sold around $150@212.50, the offerings being the choicest reported for some time, numbers considered. The bulk of the drafters were taken by domestic dealers for the eastern markets, and foreign buyers for exportation. The demand for extra quality blocky drafters of 1600 @2000 pounds weight is active, but the receipts are very light of the extra choice kind and individual sales have been made in the auctions during the past three weeks as high as $225 for the best individual specimens. Plain and medium heavy horses are sluggish at $75@125. Drivers were in steady request at $60@185, both on domestic and export orders. The market opened firm with a large attendance of buyers and the general scale of prices was steady on all classes of offerings, a com- plete clearance being reported. J. B. Jackson, Reporter. 230 J THE PEN-HOLDERS. A CASUAL visiter pagsiiig tbrongb the yards of an evening would frequently have his attention drawn to the almost deserted pens, occupied only by a few scraggy, long-haired animals, and would wonder greatly if this was the best the great stock market could do in the v\ay of provender Such at least were the thoughts of one passer-by at sight of these forlorn beasts, which look more like the ghosts of the sleek, fat droves he expected to see than any tiling else. "What are thesa?" was his wondering query of a boy, a denizen of the yards, standing near. "What are they going to do with these?" he added. "Do?" answered the boy, "why, nothin'. Them's pen-holders." "Pen-holders," said the wayfarer, still unenlight- ened, "and pray, what are pen-holders?" But upon further information it becomes evident that this peculiar name exactly describes the office of these weary-looking creatures. It is an unwritten canon of the 231 232 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY yards, that though the pens are open to all, do dealer shall take any that is not entirely empty; and two animals left over night in a pen suffice to hold it for use on the morrow; hence the mission of the ''pen-holders," and the patient beasts who fill that position stay in the pen day and night, winter and summer, exposed to all weathers, cold, warm, dry, wet, still or breezy — and they show it! Shaggy coated, patient eyed, accustomed to 'Hake things as they come," and wearing an air of stoical indifference, their lot in life is laid out for them, and followed without question. They serve their pur- pose well, and "hold the fort" as effectually as would a loaded cannon planted there. It would be a breach of business etiquette which no commission man would think of committing to remove the animals or take a pen occupied by them, so the pen-holder "goes on forever," or until death removes him, when his x^lace is promptly filled by a new recruit. CHAMPION BEEF DRESSER OF THE WORLD. Time, four minutes and five seconds. ''Challenge: I, the undersigned, challenge any man to a beef dressing contest, for a stake of $5^000, the con- test to be governed by the American rules governing beef dressing contests, Mike F. Mui.lins." The above is the standing challenge which Mike F.Mul- lins holds out to any and every professional beef dresser in the world. Mike Mullins, beef dresser for George F. Swift & Co., has been the hero and winner in many a beef dressing contest, in all of which some of the best beef dressers in the United States have been his competi- tors. A beef dressing contest is a s interesting, and much more unique, than a contest of fists, or any other con- test in which the odds are large. Besides this, it is gov- erned by rules as strict as any which ever regulated a fistic meeting of Corbett, John L., or any of their ilk. 233 MIKE READY FOR A CONTEST. ^u ILLUSTRATED HISTORY These rules, called the American rules governing beef dressing contests, read: First — there shall be three judges, who shall be considered fair-minded and hon- orable men, and thoroughly acquainted with the butcher business Second — cattle should weigh no less than 1400 pounds. Third — contestants will be allowed twen- ty-five minutes to dress the bullock; judges to call time when bullock is drawn up, front feet off and right hind leg broken; dresser to call time when finished. After dresser has called time he will not be allowed near the carcass or hide until judges have made their inspection, when, by having everything perfect, dresser will be credited 100 points in time of twenty-five min- utes, points to be considered as follows: First — fifteen points for opening, reining and siding bullock; second — five points for legging; third — fifteen points for rumping and backing; fourth — fifteen points for split- ting; fifth — ten points for clearing shank and dropping hide; sixth — twenty points for time; seventh — ten points for general neatness; eighth — ten points for the condition of the hide; these constituting the 100 points to credit. The followings points will be deducted for the following defects: twenty points off for every minute over the allotted twenty in his favor for every minute less. Mr. Mullins' first contest took place in the Exposi- tion Building, Chicago, August 22, 1883, there being eight contestants for prizes. The first prize was a gold medal and was won by Mr Mullins. At that time the contests were a go-as-you-please competition, a mode which was discontinued shortly afterward, giving place OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 235 to the above rules. Since then Mr. Mullius has figured in many contests, always coming out victor, his last being at the World's Fair, where he clinched his repu- tation as the champion dresser of the world. To see Mullins dress a beef is a sight which even a layman would enjoy. His right hand with its gleam- ing knife glances like a streak of white lightning from the animal's head to his tail, performing quick maneu- vers which result in the bullock, freshly killed, being transformed into dressed beef in the twinkling of an eye. This lightning rapidity is the result of natural apti- tude, and long years of practice, for Mr. Mullins be- came a butcher at the age of eighteen His first "job" was with Swift & Co. of this city, with whom he has been ever since. Mike Mullins is big in body and in heart, the former measuring six feet one inch, and weighing 195 pounds, and the latter having a place in it for every unfortu- nate fellow man whom he meets. He is always open to, and in good condition for, a contest. There is proba- bly no man at the yards more popular than genial Mike Mullins. JACK AND PETY WRESTLING. JACK, PETY AND PADDY. Prominently connected with the Underwriters' Fire Patrol wagon, number four, which has headquarters at the yards, is Jack Campaign. Jack is the proud owner of an enormous brown grizzly bear of mild and serene temper, called Pety, and a very diminutive but cheerful member of the hog family, known as Paddy. The way Jack came to have Paddy is a pathetic story, but put in a nutshell is simply that Paddy came into the world one cold January night last year with a lit- 236 THE UNION STOCKYARDS 237 ter of little brothers and sisters. Their mother must have been of the most aggravated and extravagant type of the Dew female, for she deserted her babies as soon as they were born. And so when morning came the white souls of all the little piggies except Paddy's had gone to paradise, where no doubt they are now frisking about with the downiest of angel wings. Jack Cam- paign happened into the hog pen in the early morning just in time to save Paddy from being trodden to death by a great hog of the masculine gender, but not soon enough to save him from injuries which crippled him for life. In fact, while Paddy is over a year old and quite strong, he weighs only five pounds, and most of that weight comes from his head, which is fully as large as his body. Pety and Paddy both make their home in the engine house, where Jack spends most of his time. And what glorious times they do havel Pety and Paddy, although belonging to such totally different branches of the ani- mal kingdom, are nevertheless the best of friends, and frolic together like two kittens — or as nearly like kit- tens as bruin and piggy can come. Upon the whole Jack the man, Pety the bear and Paddy the pig con- stitute as happy, affectionate and frolicsome a family as can be found. They each have a number of accom- plishments which they can exhibit for their own and any chance spectator's edification. Pety can dance, per- haps not with so sylphlike a movement as Loie Fuller, but nevertheless very gracefully — for a bear — he can wrestle like a John L., turn a somersault with the ease of an acrobat, slide down the "post" as well as an ex- 238 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY pert fireman, and play soldier as well as Emperor Will- iam. Paddy is an important member of the fire brigade, as far as he goes, but alasl he does not go far, for the poor little fellow is so sadly crippled that a run of a few yards with the flying patrol quite ex- hausts him, and he returns to the engine room. But Paddy, like all philosophical beings, is very cheerful in spite of his deficiency, and occupies himself in greeting visitors with a series of most cordial and pleasant grunts ; in fact he is a permanent reception committee, always coming forward to meet callers, his whole little body wiggling, and his brown eyes twinkling a genial wel- come. Jack's accomplishments — well. Jack's accom- plishments may best be enumerated by those which are not rather than by thos3 which are in the list, for he is an all-round entertainer, Til is trio of happy souls came very near being the cause of a frightful tragedy. It happened this way. One da}^ Pety went over to the slaughter house at noon to dance for the butchers. In the middle of the performance a butcher, all dripping with red gore, came in to join the lunchers. Pety had never seen blood before, and, like Helen's Toddy, it excited him excess- ively. He looked at the butcher, deliberately stopped in the middle of his most taking figure,and went up to the gory man to snilf. Pety had never before exhib- ited any of the disagreeable traits of his race, but on this occasion he rose up and clasped the bloody butcher in such an extravagantly close embrace that the man cried out in alarm. For a second the place was in an uproar of excitement. Then Jack appeared, just in the OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 289 Dick of time to spare the inaii some broken ribs, for Pety always obeys Jack's voice "iiistanter," and "came off" at once. Pety should not be blamed too much for this display of his race's ferocity, for at best a man dripping with blood is an alarming object, and no doubt Pety^ imag- ined that the man had come to execute his (Pety's) friends as he had already executed numberless steers. At any rate he should be given the benefit of the doubt, for that is wliat Jack and Paddy think about it, and they ought to know. -M .m A FALSE ALARM. THE STOCKYARDS SCRIBES. The heart of the live stock industry of the world is the Union Stockyards, and, of course, to transmit its throbs as pulse-heats to the rest of the world requires J R. DALEY. J. B. JACKSON. the presence of the omnipresent reporter. There are two of these quilldrivers, and through their good offices the world is informed of the doings at the j^ards. They are John R. Daley and J. B. Jackson, whose respective papers are the Chicago Evening Journal and the Dro- ver's Journal, beside which they furnish correspondence for outside newspapers. Both of these men have been at the stockyards in the 240 THE UNION STOCKYARDS 241 capacity of live stock reporters for thirty years, and both are judges par excellence of Jive stock. In fact, they can give old stock dealers pointers on the business; and what they do not know about the market no one knows. They are now what the new generation calls "old" men, and are both as popular as pencil-pushers usually are— for who ever met a set of more boon com- panions than the "newsmen"? They know everybody and everybody knows them. They have noses for news sharper than a terrier's for rats, and can smell a deal before the dealers know the terms. While they are in a sense competitors, they are the best of friends and "scoop" each other good-naturedly. In short, it would be a sad day for the yards should either of them change their "berth," so here's to them both, and long may they live to push the pencil. GUS THE HAM TESTER. Not the least important fiiDction among the packers, and one wiiich must be in the hands of one who has the "know how, "is that of testing the hams to grade them for the market. There are three of these grades, No. 1 GUS TESTING HAMS. being, of course, the sweetest and choicest and bringing the highest prices; No. 2, somewhat inferior and sold for less money; and No. 8^ which, like charity, covers a multitude of sins, and sometimes includes specimens which, as Gus says, should be called 88. When asked what becomes of the 88, he said they are sent to South Chicago, where they are esteemed as a great delicacy in §42 THE UNION STOCKYARDS 243 The meat canning and preserving establishment of Libby, McNeil & Libby is the largest in the country. All kinds of meat are canned and preserved by them and shipped to every part of the world. Their canning factory and tin shop are among the most interesting sights of the stockyards. Some idea of the magnitude of their plant may be gained from the knowledge that two car loads of tin and 4,000 pounds of solder are used daily in the manufacture of the tins used on their canned products. A remarkable machine in the tin shop, and the only one in existence, solders the top and bottom on 35,000 rectangular shaped cans per day, as they pass through it in a continuous stream. It is the invention of Mr. Charles H. Emery, General Super- intendent for Libby, McNeil & Libby, to whom he sold the patent rights on the machine. MIXING BUTTERINE. MANUFACTURE OF BUTTERINE. Prejudick against butterine exists only in the minds of the uninformed. Butterine is even supposed by squeamish individuals to be somehow nasty, although if questioned as to their reason for this supposition they are put to it for an answer. As a matter of fact, this prejudice is one of those popular superstitions which live on ignorance, the miasma of intellectual swamps. Analyze butterine by the nicest chemical tests and you find in it only the purest and most nutritious ele- ments; examine its manufacture and the neatest house- wife would delight in places and processes so immacu- late. There is no secret connected with the manufacture of butterine. Every factory in the Union Stockyards is wide open for public inspection, and indeed, so far above public expectation is the management of the factories that it is entirely to their interest to help 244 THE UNION STOCKYARDS 245 the public to examine into their methods. With that self-interest in view which actuates every one, guides are furnished visitors in their tours of inspection Government officials superintend the manufacture of the butterine at these factories and thus its purity, wholesomeness and correct weight are assured. Butter- ine, as turned out by the Chicago factories, is composed PACKING BUTTERINE. of butter, butter oil, neutral lard and oleo oil. The butter ingredient is Elgin creamery butter, and butter made at the factory from Jersey cream; the butter oil, which is used in small quantities to soften the text- ure of the butterine is a pure and nutritious vege- table oil made by pressing the oil from the American cottonseed; neutral lard is a pure, chilled leaf lard, rendered at a low temperature and then left in a cold bath for forty -eight hours to remove all its flavor; while oleo oil is a product of the choicest beef fat chilled in ice 246 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY water and melted, and from this is extracted a soluble oil from which every particle of stearine is removed. Oleo oil is the only beef product used in butterine. All of these ingredients, with the addition of salt, are carefully churned and worked together, the result being one of the most wholesome food products on the market, and sold under its own nomenclature is as legitimate a product as butter. Butterine is generally spoken of as a substitute for and competitor of butter, but why it should be more so than pumpkin pie is a substitute for and competitor of apple pie is not apparent. It does not appear to have injured the butter market. What it actually has done to a large extent, and, it is to be hoped, will eventually do entirely, is to drive bad butter out of the market. Why should a poor man eat bad butter when he can get good butterine at a lov\er price, which is also an econ- omy in quantity of one-third when used in cooking There was a time in the history of butterine when it was possible to sell it for genuine butter, and because this was frequently done the public conceived the idea that butterine, or oleomargarine as it was then popu- lary called, would not sell on its own merits. The publi c was mistaken. No better legislation for the manufacture of butterine could have been enacted than that which prohibited the sale of oleomargarine under the name of butter. The manufacturer had an article of which he had no reason to be ashamed, and the noise of special leg- islation against his product served to advertise its mer- its, to his great advantage. Indeed, so far has the preju- dice against butterine been overcome since then, that at OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 247 a recent state fair at Mansfield, Ohio, butterine contested with Jersey butter for the blue ribbon, and won. Although butterine is the name generally used to des- ignate this product, it is possible that in the near future oleomargarine will be the name seen on the packages of butterine, it having been recently urged by the opponents of butterine, and agreed to by the gov- ernment, that butterine is a name calculated to deceive the public into taking it for a product of the dairy, WEIGHING BUTTERINE. especially as a cow is frequently used as a trademark. This will in no wise injure the butterine trade, how- ever, for the words oleomargarine and butterine have long been accepted as synonymous by the general pub- lic, thanks to the extensive advertising afforded by ad- verse legislation. So the only result will be to banish the euphonious word butterine from the language, and give the gentle Jersey a chance to withdraw from lending her countenance to a product for which she is in no wise responsible. A RANCHMAN S HOME. CATTLE RANCHES AND RANGING. Of all the various businesses with which the Union Stockyards are connected, none are more interesting or picturesque than that of cattle raising on the western plains The ranch is the cradle for the stockyards, as it were, the nursery where the calf is fatted for slaugh- ter. The ranch as an institution is practically the same whether found in Texas, Montana, or the intermediate states. Texas is, of course, the birthplace — if the expression may be allowed — of the ranch. From that state the business spread to nearly all the western states, until, during the early eighties, nearly the entire West was simply a great cow pasture. Now, however, there are only a dozen or so of states in which the ranch has a jilace, prominent among which are Texas, New Mex- 248 THE UNION STOCKYARDS M9 ico, Arizona, Wyoming, Montana, the Dakotas, Indian Territory, Washington, Colorado, Idaho and Oregon. One of the great factors in the cattle trade is the great amount of western cattle, "rangers," as they are called in stockyards phraseology, which come to market during the months of August, September, October and November. During these months the northwestern states furnish the greater amount of beef cattle. These cattle are bred mostly in the southern states and ter- ritories — Texas, Indian Territory and Arizona furnish- ing the bulk of them. The cattle are driven North when the}^ are two-year-olds and allowed to run on gov- ernment lands for two years. The change of climate and the sweet grass of the North increases their size and quality. Western rangers are now furnishing to the Chicago market during the fall most of the beef and export cattle used here. Seventy-five per cent of all the range cattle come to the Union Stockyards. Some idea of the close relations existing between the stock- yards and the ranch may be formed when it is said that nearly $15,000,000 are advanced in a year by the live stock commissioners at Chicago on the growing crop of fall steers, yearlings, etc., which are running wild and getting fat in unconscious anticipation of bringing good prices and paying off their owners' debt. This is a mild form of the great mortgage evil which envel- oped the planters of the South before the war, whose cotton crops were mortgaged to their full value every year before the crop was ripe. However, the conditions existing at the present time in the cattle business are favorable for a boom. I'HE UNION STOCKYARDS 251 The last government live stock report gives the num- ber of cattle, not including milk cows, in this country in January as 32,085,000 This is the smallest num- ber known since 1880, being 2,279,000 head less than last year. The following will give an idea of the number of cat- tle now in some of the principal range and agricultural states of the West: Texas, 5,518,644; Iowa, 2,886,978; Kansas, 1,766,245; Missouri, 1,686,990; Illinois, 1,480,- 976; Montana,l, 158,587; Nebraska, 162,469; Wyoming, 751,849; Colorado, 926,960; South Dakota, 899,814; North Dakota, 255,509. These numbers do not include dairy cattle. All those now in the cattle business will remem- ber the sudden rise in the i)rice of cattle in the spring of 1880. During the winter of that year Texas yearlings were contracted for at $8 and $9 per head, while the following spring they found a ready sale for $18 and $14 at Dodge City. Between that time and 1886 there was an enormous boom in range cattle, English capitalists in particular investing heavily in western interests. The capitalists and country were new to each other, while ranging cattle was as new an experience to the Englishmen as breeding horses would be to the Eskimos. The result was inevitable; many of them returned to their own country little more than paupers in purse, but with a large reserve fund of ex- perience upon which their sons have since drawn to advantage. Since then the cattle business has dropped back onto the skillful, experienced American, where it properly be- THE UxNION STOCKYARDS 253 longs,and from whom the foreiguers purchased it. There is DOW, as theD, pleDty of idle capital, particularly iD Europe, to iDvest in the now well understood enterprise of raisiDg cattle, and experience will make the profits sure and lessen the risks. At that tinie beef cattle were not bringing any better prices than now, when the average prices for good steers is $36 per head. The country was then, as now, recover- ing from a terrible financial panic, and the restoration of confidence ushered in an era of almost reckless in- 'f -1 fel- . J B^^Sft^^^Pis^'^ '• •of^^l^^HnHUP^^IiSSH ^^ Blliip^^^^^^^^^ H^H ^^^^B^P,- ' >^°t« "^ ' ^ . ^^^^S ^Bi HBi Hi A ROUND-UP. vestment of money. Many a lesson will the failures of that time furnish the investors of the near future. One of the sources of loss to the cattlemen of the past and present is being somewhat abated, though by no means as rapidly or effectually as might b^ expected. This is the loss from the ravages of Indians, wolves and coyotes. These three pests are harder on cattle than the hardest Montana winter. There is actually no 254 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY defense against Indians, for they scout almost all over the country, and swooping down on the unprotected cattle, kill the choicest and carry off the loins, leaving the remainder of the carcass for the buzzards. Sometimes eighty or a hundred head of cattle have been found slaughtered at one time in this way. The ranch- man has no means of redress, and simply endures what he cannot cure. Against the wolves,however, he may fight and vent his irritation. Not that it does much good, v,^#r:-^=- ^*<^ NIGHT HERDING. for the wolf seems proof against poison and is not found napping often enough to make it easy to pick him off with bullets. The favorite way now is to put out a carcass and then patiently wait for darkness to bring the wolves to devour it The gleam of their eyes makes good targets and the cowboys amuse themselves in shooting the hun- gry beasts. There is also a bounty offered by each state of $3 for every wolf scalp, and this reward is a better in- centive than any other to the range rider to keepabul- OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 255 let always ready for the pestiferous beast. Many of the range riders also keep packs of greyhounds and stag- hounds with wliich to destroy them. Indeed, riding the range with hounds is as effectual as any method yet tried for the extermination of the wolves, and many a calf and colt that would otherwise meet an early death by coyotes,andcow and horse that might suffer an ab- breviated career by timber wolves, will thus be spared to the owner's profit. CUTTING OUT. A point of advantage which the cattlemen of the present have over those of the past is in the breed of cattle raised. The old fashioned, long horned Texas steers are becoming extinct by inbreeding with Shorthorns, Here - fords, Durhams and Polled Angus. In fact, as good specimens of these breeds as can be seen anywhere are now being shipped from the southwestern states to Chicago. The quality of the cattle raised throughout the West is being raised, and this is ^n advantage in 256 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY that these well-bred animals dress far more than the old style common ones. Another point of immunity from loss now enjoyed by cattlemen is found in the inspection of brands at the markets. The time was when the theft, or "rus- tling," as it was called, of hundreds of heads of cattle, formed a serious loss to the owners, while bringing small fortunes each year to the thieves, who could ship the stolen cattle to any market with impunity. Now ROPING. the presence of inspectors appointed by the state boards of stock commissioners at the different markets renders such thefts practically impossible. The in- spectors at the Union Stockyards handle the business in a manner which is nearly perfect. Some idea of the magnitude of the business may be gained when it is said that Chief Inspector J. H. Landers for Montana at the Union Stockyards has received and disbursed hun- OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 257 dreds of thousaDds of dollars from the sale of stolen and strayed cattle on the eastern markets. A large proportion of this money has gone to the owners of a few head of cattle whose cattle got mixed up with a big outfit and were sent to market without the owners' knowledge. But the inspectors caught them, and, if the owner had his brand registered, he received his LOOKING FOR A BRAND. money almost as soon as if he had shipped the cattle himself. Of the money received for estrays but a small proportion has been turned into the state, and even where it has, if a man can prove by the records that money belonging to him from the sale of one stray steer has gone into the treasury, it is never too late for him to recover it. Mr. Landers is judge, jury and law on this subject 258 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY at the Union Stockyards, Chicago, and the qualifica- tions required to fill the position are such as have not been bestowed upon every one. The work of tracing brands alone will be seen to be no small task when it is known that Montana alone has 15,000 different brands. Until the present time Texas has had almost a mo- AN OBSTINATE ONE. nopoly of the business of furnishing cattlemen of other states with the young steers with which to re-stock their ranches It is now evident that Texas alone can- not supply this demand in the future, and it is probable that Arizona, Washington and Idaho combined will soon equal Texas, as she now ranks, as a source for this supply. With this change and with the comparatively recent OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 259 iDtroduction of the railroad into the West, one of the most picturesque features of cattle ranging has been abandoned. That was the existence of the "great trail" to the North, over whicli thousands of cattle might be seen every year slowly grazing their way northward. There was a time, not so long ago, when to bring cattle BRANDING. North in this manner was a lucrative business by itself. But that time is past, for the steel trail now answers all the purposes at less cost. Ogalalla was, for a long time, the delivery station of these herds from the South, and there the attendant cowboys from Texas relinquished their charge, which was at once assumed by the boys of the North and West. But the "van of empire" westward took its 260 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY way, and with it came the men of braw^n who pre- empted the eite of the great highway between North and youth and transformed it into fields of golden grain. The trail was moved west, farther west and westward again, the plowshare obliterating it each time, until one day a snorting steam monster sped across the plains, drawing behind it a serpentine line of cars filled with cattle. Thenceforth the "great trail" was only a memory to cattlemen, and, possibly, a regret to the cattle who were transferred in the uncomfortable modern way, so harrowing that the ghosts of their ancestors must have stampeded from the place. The old Chis- holm trail and Furkey track are places of the past, and the stormy adventures of early pioneer days associated with them are mere seldom recalled memories. From those early days date the cowboys. The cowboy has been described as a man attached to a pair of gigan- tic spurs, a being who is a hybrid of man and horse, a sort of inferior Centaur, in fact. The duty of the cow- boys requires them to be nearly always in the saddle. Twice a year occur the great occasions of their most arduous labors, the grand round-up. Then the cowboy is seen in all the glory of complete accouterments and active accomplishments. The round-up is the techni- cal term for the great semi-annual cattle branding. The preliminary step toward the round-up is for all the cowboys of each ranch to round tip their loose ponies, of which each cowboy has from six to ten, and get them in order "for the fray.'- Each having selected the pony which he desires to ride, the remainder are turned over for safe keei^ing to a gentleman known as OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 261 the "horse wrangler. " It is tlie duty of the horse wran- gler to keep the ponies together in the vicinity of the mess wagon, ready for the cowboys' use. Mess wagon and wrangler then start for the prospective scene of the round-up, while the cowboys ride out to a circle of fifty miles in diameter. Whatever happens to be within this radius at the time is rounded up — that is, driven to the BRANDING CALVES. center. It may be late at night before the cattle are quietly grazing on the plains about the mess wagon, and the hungry cowboys are squatted down about ihe fire greedily devouring their broiled beef and drinking their hot coffee. The beef, by the way, is obtained by shoot- ing the first fat bullock which captures the cowboys' eyes, a liberty which is accorded them without ques- tion by the owners. During the night the cattle are guarded carefully, 262 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY four shifts of cowboys taking turns in this nocturnal watch. At night there is always danger of a stampede, the breaking of a twig, a saddled pony shaking himself, a rabbit running by in the moonlight, or a clap of thun- der during a storm being all that is needed to start the cattle to their feet and send them galloping wildly across the prairies. Then there is only one thing to do; the cattle must be ''milled" until tired out. Sev- eral of the speediest riders head off the leadars of the stampede, turning them until the whole great herd is galloping in a circle, which is constantly narrowed until the cattle are tired out and stop in a bunch. This is the method to which the cowboys have given the ex- pressive name of milling To prevent a stampede at night the cowboys on guard usually sing and whistle, thus making noise enough to rob a sudden sound of the grewsomeness which darkness always gives it, even to the human ear. The morning after the round-up the work begins of "cutting out" the calves to be branded. Each cowboy selects .a maverick, and riding into the herd "cuts him out," lassos him and turns him over to the brander, who inflicts momentary torture on the animal with his hot iron. It may be explained in passing that maverick was once a proper noun. It was the name of an old Dutch ranchman who had a standing aversion, arising either from negligence or principle, to branding his stock. And so the cowboys came to call all cattle with- out a brand "mavericks." This is supposed to be a spring round-up, occurring about the first of March. Six months later a fall, or OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 263 "beef round-up," takes place, when the calves missed in the spring are branded. The cattle intended for ship- ment are then cut out, and put on the trail leading to the nearest shipping point, being driven along at the slow rate of ten miles a day and allowed to graze by the way, thus arriving at the shipping station fat and in good condition. When the cattle are on board the train COON-CAN— AHORSE APIECE. the cowboys are paid off. Some of the old hands are kept on the pay roll, while the others must "rustle for themselves" until next spring— that is, "sweat out," work for their board or "go visiting," riding the "chuck line." Cowboys are not the hard characters they are generally supposed to be. Many of them save their money and 264 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY soon have ranches of their own or in partnership. Others, however, make for the nearest town and throw their money away on "rot-gut" whisky, sold at a high price, staying in town until their season's earnings are dissipated in dissipation. Card playing, particularly the game of "coon-can," and stag dances are the prin- cipal amusements of the cowboys. There are always COON-CAN — TWO HORSES. some among them who can sing, or own and thrum on some instrument, and these accomplished individ- uals are in great demand. Frequently, in the old days, there was a liberal sprinkling of p>enniless "younger sons" of aristocratic old European families, but, sad to relate, their fast habits counterbalanced any good effects which their higher education might have had OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 265 on the rough-and-tumble, quick tempered, big hearted sons of the wild and woolly West. But the spurred and sombreroed cowboy will soon be only a stirring memory of the past, going the way of the "great trail." For civilization and the granger are moving West, and soon there will be no ranges to ride, the great wild plains becoming pastures enclosed by wire fences, and the daring range riders becoming civ- ilized, heavy footed, bewhiskered farmers, or, to save themselves from such a fate, attaching themselves to the only Wild West which will soon remain — Buffalo Bill's. A TYPICAL COWBOY. RANGE HORSES PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE. Raising liorses on the western plains is, if possible, an even more interesting industry than that of rais- ing cattle. The first range horse was the bronco, as the Mexi- cans call their little wild horses. The name has be- come so indissolubly attached, in the American mind, with a fractious untamed horse from the West, that bronco is now to most people merely another name for an equine incorrigible, just a« arab is now a synonym for a little vagrant of the streets. A few years ago these little Mexican and Texan ponies, or broncos, could be bad for a mere sorg, and con- sequently they were purchased by the thousands and let loose to roam the western ranges. The ranchmen paid no attention to quality in breeding. The one consid- eration which occupied their minds was that of quan- tity; if the ponies multiplied rapidly they were satis- fied. As a result there were shipped to market, lots of wretched, inbred little brutes called horses, animals 206 THE UNION STOCKYARDS 267 which were unbroken (not to say unbreakable), unruly, fit for neither harness nor saddle, and hardly worth the cost of shipping. During the last five or six years, however, strenuous efforts have been made to cull out these scrubs and in- troduce better blood. In fact, the Mexican bronco is following the Texas steer to extinction by inbreeding with better stock. J. S Cooper, of the Chicago horse market, who has had as much experience with western horses as any man living, says that the time has come when range horses with a light brand (the brand which is burned in deeply being a disfigurement) will sell to better ad- vantage than ever before. During the last six years the ranches have, generally, become the property of ex- periencedranGhmen,to whom all breeds of horses and the wants of the country in that line are thoroughly famil- iar, and who by judicious breeding to first-class draft, carriage and hackney stallions, have produced stock which will compare favorably with horses raised any- where in the middle West, The great trouble in the past was that the ranchmen shipped in such wild horses by the carloads, that they had to be sold in carload lots,un- haltered. A great deal of money was lost in this wslj. The coming range consignments will be thoroughly worked animals, broken to harness, and fit for any pur- pose. The common horse of eastern production is now less durable for working purposes than the ranch horse, the latter having better feet and greater endurance than the former, although heretofore the range horses shipped East were so small and nervous that breaking THE UNION STOCKYARDS 269 them to harness usually broke their hearts. But the revolution— or should we say evolution ?™of the range horse is now as complete as the change in range cattle. They have been graded up to such a fine point that the days of the bronco are over forever on most of the great ranches. Mr. Cooper's advice to ranchmen is to "go on and breed, paying particular attention to the draft horses, which are selling for as much now as five or six years ago; also avoid a large brand, as a glaring brand on a horse is as bad in its way as the brand of Cain on a man." Mr. Cooper is himself a large breeder, and has great faith in the future of the breeding industry, the bicycle to the contrary notwi^Jistanding. The range horse is a creature of beauty on his native heath, wild, strong and fleet as the prairie winds. Horses do not herd as cattle do, by the hundreds and thousands, but in groups of from twenty-five to forty. x\t the head of each group is a stallion, the lord of the family, the king of his harem of mares. Standing up- on a distant eminence and looking down upon the great plains, it is a pretty sight to see the hundreds of small herds quietly grazing near each other but never by any chance mingling. On the outside of each little herd grazes the great stallion who is the pater familias, his watchful eye and keen scent quick to detect the ap- proach of danger. At the first approach of an enemy every stallion, by some secret communication with his herd, gallops across the plains, followed by his family, which trusts to his guidance and protection with filial confidence. Frequently, when the herds are grazing 270 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY quietly, a wily stallion will try to recruit his own herd by "cutting out" a filly or young horse from some other herd. The stallion of the robbed herd never allows such depredations without at least an attempt to recover the stolen member of his family, and pursues the thief and his prey into the very heart of the enemy's camp. Some- times he is so successful that he not only brings back the victim, but cuts out a filly belonging to the enemy. It is the story of the Sabine women acted over again, with a little just retaliation added. Indeed, any skeptic of equine intelligence has but to spend a day on the plains, and he will not only be convinced but amazed at the horse's sagacity. In fact, to sit on a hill-top and watch the maneuvers of tljese wild horses of the plains is a far more thrilling sight than to view tha tricks of the best string of circus horses that ever danced to music IN COACH AND SADDLE. One of the most ratioDal fashions of the day is expert driving and riding. There are very few ladies or gen- tlemen of the present generation who do not under- stand, or at least attempt to understand, the skillful handling of the reins. And there can be no more rea- sonable and healthful recreation. It is not every one who understands instinctively how- to drive well, nor can every one sit his horse like a centaur. Correct teaching, however, will go far toward accomplishing those results; without it they will be as impossible as astronomy without mathematics. It is the object of this article to provide the amateur driver and rider with a few simple rules by the application and practice of which he may lay the foundation for the much admired skill. First, let us talk about the four-in-hand, the revival of interest in which promises to be a long-lived fad, as popular as it deserves to be. To begin with, do not attempt to drive a four-in-hand if you are not sure of your head. No amount of tech- nical skill in the driver nor training in the horses will compensate, in an emergency, for lack of complete self- possession. The second essential is a thoroughly com^ petent teacher, a coachman who is as much at home on the box as a sailor is on deck. He, if he be conscientious, will soon be able to tell you if you have the courage 271 272 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY WELL IN HAND. OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 278 and coolness, decision and judgment, strength and flexi- bility of hand and powers of endurance necessary to become a successful four-in-hand driver. Of course, if his verdict is negative, there is yet no law to prevent you from drilling yourself to acquire the necessary qualities, and it is said that nothing is impossible to those who will. You may practice with Indian clubs, dumb-bells, sculls and on the horizontal bars to devel- op your muscle (indeed, muscle is indispensable to the four-in-hand driver), and by all sorts of athletic ex- ercises develop your strength and courage. Assuming, however, that the pupil has the necessary physical attributes, and thoroughly understands how to command a coach and pair, the first lesson will con- sist in learning how to sit on the box. The position of the driver of a four-in-hand is more important than that of the driver of any other sort of carriage. He must not stand almost upright, as was once the fashion, nor must he assume the attitude of a lady driving a pony phaeton, for upon his readiness to exert his ut- most strength and weight at a moment's notice, to prevent the horses from bolting, falling or any other mishap, depends the safety of his party, who have a right to expect his utmost care. The best way to learn this is for the pupil to sit quietly by the side of the teacher during the first few lessons, and, without touch- ing tlie reins, observe how he conducts himself. There is much to be learned in this way, as you will soon see. Notice how he seats himself, handles the reins, holds the whip and commands his horses. It looks so simple, and he does it so easily, that you will probably fancy 274 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY TURNING TO THE LEFT. OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 275 TURNING TO THE RIGHT. 276 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY that you know all about it after the first outing. That is the time for you to be humble; if you aren't then you soon will be. When you fully realize the responsibilities of the driver you may take the reins, placing and retaining them in proper position and at the right length, so that you can pull up your team at any moment. When your arm is tired, do not try to prove your endurance by keeping the reins. You will not learn nearly so much in a painfully long lesson as in a number of short ones. The following lessons should be devoted to learn- ing how to start, stop and turn. Several weeks' daily practice will be required to do this properly. The teacher must, under no circumstances, allow the pupil to attempt more until he can perform these elementary movements mechanically, instantaneously and accur- ately. It is well enough to begin to practice with an old team which has learned to obey the least indication from the driver, thereby doing his hardest work for him; but a man is not a coachman until he can manage, stop, turn and hold fresh and fiery horses,not all of the same temperament. When you have mastered starting, turning right and left, going straight on level ground (only level ground is allowable during the first lessons), stopping and, of course, retaining the reins always in proper position, then descending steep hills may be carefully practiced, remembering to drive slowly over the tops of hills, both large and small. During all this time you must be form- ing the habit of never mounting the box without having fully satisfied yourself that every horse is harnessed OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 277 STOPPING. 278 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY THE DIFFERENCE — WITH ONE OR A PAIR. OF The union stockyards 279 and bitted properly. Then mount the box deliberately, take your seat,adjust the apron and the reins, taking care to have the leaders so in hand that when they move they will be out of the collars and clear of the splinter bars. Be sure that the horses stand still until you give the word to start, never giving the word until you are ready The sight of a driver hanging on to his reins while trying to seat himself is undignified, not to say ludicrous. Allowing the horses to start before the word is given is one of those slovenly habits against which all drivers must guard unless they wish to acquire a bad style. Mounting on the run is no doubt very proper for the driver of a stage coach making time across the western wilderness, but polite society taboos such ex- hibitions of skill. All this probably sounds simple enough, but only continual and diligent practice will enable the pupil to become an expert whip. How the wheelers should start and turn the coach without the leaders feeling their traces, when to put on the drags, how to regulate the pace, how to drive well and yet find time for the pleas- ures of the coaching party, are all points which require care and long practice to acquire. And now as to horsemanship. Among other things we have to thank the warriors for introducing horse- manship into Europe. The art by which Alexander the Great was enabled to win his great battles after the conquest of Persia, and the consequent introduc- tion of Persian cavalry into his army, has since be- come one of the most delightful pastimes known to Europe and America. It is due to the use of horseman- 280 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY A GOOD WALKER. OF THE UiSION STOCKYARDS 281 GOOD HIND QUARTERS. 282 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY ship in battle that the custom of mounting and dis- mounting on the left side was established. And what has always been a necessity to the warrior with his sword has since become a point of equestrian eti- quette. A prescription which is quite as common with fash- ionable physicians as change of air is horse exercise. It is a famous remedy for liver trouble, derangement of the stomach, and alfections arising from exhaustive mental and sedentary pursuits. Many of the latter class, both men and women, have never been on the back of a horse in their lives, and know about as much about it as a fish knows about sailing a ship. For this class, a few principles are laid down here, which will be found particularly useful to beginners who are un- able to have a teacher. That the pupil has a suitable horse, one with a good, placid temper, who does not shy, bolt or stumble, is presupposed. Only such a horse is suitable for a be- ginner. A course of mild gymnastics is the best prepa- ration possible for the would-be equestrian; it accus- toms him to action, develops physical tenacity, and relieves him of timidity, of which he is likely to have a superfluity at first. First of all, let the pupil never forget that his first lessons must be short, or he will grow tired, and, nine times out of ten, thus miss the real delight and exhilaration which riding always gives to the true horseman and horsewoman. The saddle must be placed on the middle of the horse's back, and the rider must sit in the middle of the saddle, or both horse and rider will soon grow tired and sore — and sore OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 288 PREPARED TO MOUNT — FIRST POSITION. 28.4 LILUSTRATED HISTORY means such soreDess as he has never experieDced be- fore, unless he has fallen from a fourth story window and survived the shock. He must sit neither on his fork nor on the end of the spine, but on the two bones of the pelvis, or sitting bones, which nature gave man for his proper seat. It is, of course, more difficult for a short, fleshy person to find the proper seat tlian for one- more perfectly proportioned. Indeed, in riding the ad- vantage of being an Adonis or Venus consists of some- thing more than the mere ability to attract admiration, for the ''form divine" seems to adapt itself far more readily to the saddle than the one which is too broad or too slender. A rule which generally determines the straightness of the rider's seat is that he or she can, if seated in the middle of the horse's back, see straight be- tween the animal's ears. A series of illustrations are given herewith, which show better than words can the correct positions in mounting, for both a lady and a gentleman. The illustrations are of two famous English riders who were noted in their own day for model horsemanship, and since then there has been no change in horsemanship on the points which their fig- ures are here called upon to illustrate. Having, by continuous practice and close attention to details, obtained a firm seat and proper balance, the pupil may proceed to study the science of guiding his horse. A correct and stylish way for either man or woman to hold double reins in one hand is shown in the illustration on page 292, while holding double reins in both hands is shown in the succeeding cut. A sin- gle rein, with a very fresh or pulling horse, may prop- OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 285 SECOND POSITION. 286 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY THIRD POSITION, OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 287 SEATED. 288 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY READY TO MOUNT — FIRST POSITION. OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 289 "xrnwf'r NOW I" — SECOND POSITION. 290 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY UP SAFE — THIRD POSITION. OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 291 CORRECT POSITION FOR A LADY. 292 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY DOUBLE REINS IN BOTH HANDS. erly be held in the full grasp of both hands. The prin- cipal point to be observed in holding the reins is to hold them smoothly and flatly. Remember also to han- dle the reins as if they were silken threads which a pull would break; under no circumstances pull them (unless with a fractious horse), but give to the horse's head as though the arms were elastic. A heavy handed rider is an affliction to a horse against which he may be par- doned for "fighting," while the light hand yields so readily to his mouth that the bit never hurts him. The pupil should be able to take and maintain a cor- rect and firm seat — in fact, should feel that he is one with his horse — before he attempts a gait more rapid than a walk. Thisdone to the satisfaction of the critic, a canter may be attempted; when tlie canter is mas- tered without losing the seat, correct position, good OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 293 DOUBLE REINS IN ONE HAND. 294 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY ^^M iiF AS IT SHOULD BE DONE. OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS management of the reins, and self-possession, the pupil may try the trot. The trot is one of the most difficult of paces, and while practice of trotting develops a good seat, it should be remembered that to trot badly is as much a proof of a poor horseman (or horsewoman) as to trot well is a mark of a good one. Galloping and then the leap follow naturally as the next steps in acquiring the art of riding. In this day of "wild" riding it is as indispensable for a rider to be able to take a leap coolly as it is for a danseuse to pirouette gracefully. Good riding is an accomplishment of which any man or woman might be proud, nevertheless there are re- markably few perfect riders of either sex. Equestrian- ism, however, is annually increasing in popularity, and now it is as much a part of a child's education to learn to ride as it is to learn to dance. VETERINARY RECIPES. How to Cure Corns — Corns are caused by bad shoe- ing, or from allowing the shoe to wear too long without reshoeing, and also from having too much of the foot taken off. My remedy, by which I have never yet failed to effect a permanent cure, is as follows: Send for your blacksmith, have the shoes pulled off, the feet pared and then poulticed until they are as soft as jelly. Call the blacksmith again, have the corns cut down to the quick, extract the cores of the corns by means of a pair of small pinchers, and then apply spir- its of salts to eat away any remnants of the cores which may remain. By this time the foot has been so much reduced that time must be allowed for a new growth of the foot, which may be satisfactorily and quickly attained by placing the foot of the patient in blue clay for three weeks, or more if necessary. If these directions are followed a new foot and a permanent cure will be the results; and although it takes time you should remem- ber that anything worth having is worth waiting for. Rubber pads, and bar shoes will help a horse tempora- rily only, but will keep him going in a cramped way But if you are impatient you can take your choice be- tween quickness and thoroughness. Quarter Cracks — Quarter crack can be cured, or 296 THE UNION STOCKYARDS 297 rather grown out, if properly treated. First apply a bar shoe, rasping away the bearing surface of the de- tached portion of the heel, so as to bring no pressure upon it. Then secure immobility of the walls of the crack, either with quarter-crack clamps, or, in their ab- sence, by driving two or three small horseshoe nails through the edge of the crack and clinching so as to hold the edges firmly together. Apply an active blister to the coronet to favor a more rapid growth of the horn. Allow the horse to rest with only walking exercise, un- til an unbroken hoof has grown down from the hair a distance of at least one-half to three-fourths of an inch. This will require four to five weeks. When the hoof has grown down as directed, a V-shaped notch is to be cut to the quick at the upper end of the crack to pre- vent the crack extending upward. The horse may now be used carefully at a moderate speed if desirable. Continue the use of the bar shoe, with the pressure re- moved from that heel until the crack has grown off. Tonic Ball — Ginger, 2 drachms; gentian, 1 drachm; Peruvian bark, i ounce; fenugreek, ^ ounce. Mix, and form a ball. Diuretics — Take of balsam copaiba, 2 ounces; sweet spirits of niter, Bounce; spirits of turpentine, 2 ounces; oil of juniper, 2 ounces; tincture of camphor, 2 ounces. Mix; shake the bottle before pouring the medicine. Dose for adult horse: Two tablespoonsful in a pint of milk, repeated every four to six hours, if necessary. This is a reliable preparation for kidney difficulties. Cough Mixtures — Take of alcohol I pint; balsam 298 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY of fir, 2 ounces. Mix well, and add all the tar it will cut. Shake well before using. Dose, from one to two teaspoonsful two or three times a day. Nasal Gleet — No. 1. — Copperas,2 ounces; pulverized gentian, 3 ounces; elecampane, 1 ounce; linseed meal, 3 ounces. Mix, and give from half to one tablespoon- ful twice a day. No. 2. — Aloes, 6 ounces; pulverized nux vomica, 8 drachms; flaxseed meal, 4 ounces. Make into eight powders, and give one or two each day. Cracked Heels — Tar, 8 ounces; beeswax, 1 ounce; rosin, 1 ounce; alum 1 ounce; tallow, 1 ounce; sulphate of iron, 1 ounce; carbolic acid,l drachm. Mix, and boil over a slow fire. Skim off the filth, and add 2 ounces of the scrapings of sweet elder. Thrush — No. 1. — Wash the feet well, with castile soap and water, and sprinkle a small quantity of pul- verized blue vitriol in the cleft; then fill up all the cav- ities with cotton, press it in so as to keep out all dirt, and repeat as often as necessary until the cure is com- plete. No. 2. — Blue vitriol and copperas, of each 1 ounce; burnt alum, 2 ounces; white vitriol, i ounce. Mix. Cordial Balls — No. 1.— Anise,powdered, jounce; gin- ger, 1 drachm ;gentian, 1 drachm; fenugreek, 2 drachms. Mix, No. 2. — Caraway and ginger, each, 2 drachms; anise, gentian and fenugreek, each, 1 ounce. Mix. No. 3. — Camphor, 1 drachm; anise, 3 drachms; flaxseed meal, 1 ounce; powdered extract of liquorice,3 drachms; tincture of opium, 1 ounce. Mix. Astringent and Cordial— No. 1.— Opium, 12 grains; camphor, | drachm; catechu, 1 drachm Mix. No. 2. — OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 299 Opium, 10 grains; camphor, 1 drachm; ginger, 2 drachms; castile soap, 2 drachms; anise, 3 drachms; liquorice, 2 drachms. Mix. Alterative and Laxative Balls — No. 1. — Linseed meal, 1 ounce; aloes, ^ ounce; castile soap, ^ ounce. Mix. No. 2. — Ginger, 1 drachm; castile soap, 2 drachms; Barbadoes aloes, pulverized, 6 drachms; flax- seed meal, 1 ounce. Mix. Anodyne Drenches — No. 1. — Tincture of opium, 1 ounce; starch gruel, 1 quart. Mix. No. 2. — Sweet spirits of niter, 1 ounce; tincture of opium, 1 ounce; essence of peppermint, ^ ounce; water, 1 pint. Mix. No 3. — Tincture of opium, 1 ounce; spirits of cam- phor, "I ounce; anise, ^ ounce; sulphuric ether, 1 ounce; water, 1 pint. Mix. Diabetes— Sugar of lead, 10 grains; alum, 80 grains; catechu, 1 drachm; tincture of opium, jounce; water, 1 pint. Mix. Farcy and Glanders — No. 1. — Iodide of potassium, IJ drachms; copperas, ^ drachm; ginger, 1 drachm; gentian, 2 drachms; powdered gum arable and syrup to form a ball. No. 2. — Calomel, ^ drachm; turpentine, ■J ounce; blue vitriol, 1 drachm; gum arable and syrup to form a ball. No. 3. — One-half ounce sulphite of soda, 5 grains Spanish flies, powdered. Mix, and give at night in cut feed for several weeks; give at the same time, every morning and noon, 3 drachms powdered gentian, 2 drachms powdered blue vitriol; give the medicines for a long time; feed well. This is the best treatment that can be given for this disease. 300 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY Fever Balls— No. 1. — Saltpetre, 2^ drachms; tartar emetic, ^ drachm; flaxseed meal, 1 ounce; camphor, ■I drachm; ginger, 2 drachms. Mix, and form into a ball. Repeat three or four times a day if necessary. No. 2. — Tincture aconite, ten drops; tartar emetic, i drachm; saltpetre, 1 drachm; ginger, 2 drachms; lin- seed meal, 1 ounce. Mix, and form into a ball. Re- peat three or four times a day if necessary. Diuretic and Tonic Balls — Copperas, 1^ drachms; ginger, 1 drachm; gentian, 1 drachm; saltpetre, 3 drachms; rosin, -Jounce; flaxseed meal, 1 ounce. Mix, and form into a ball. Diuretic Balls — No. 1. — Saltpetre, 3 drachms; rosin, 4 drachms; castile soap, 2 drachms; fenugreek, 3 drachms; flaxseed meal, 1 ounce. Mix, and*form into a ball. No. 2. — Oil of juniper, i drachm; rosin and saltpetre, each, 2 drachms; camphor, -J drachm; cas- tile soap, 1 ounce; flaxseed meal, 1 ounce. Mix, and form into a ball. Saddle and Harness Galls, Bruises, etc —No. 1.— Tincture of opium, 2 ounces; tannin, 2 drachms. Mix, and apply twice a day. No. 2.— Take white lead and linseed oil, and mix as for paint, and apply two or three times a day. This is good for scratches, or any wounds on a horse. Founder— No. 1.— Vinegar, 3 pints; cayenne pep- per,i drachm; tincture of aconite root; 15 drops. Mix, and boil down to one quart; when cool, give it as a drench. Blanket the horse well; after the horse has perspired for an hour or more, give one quart OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 801 of raw linseed oil. This treatment will be found good for horses foundered by eating too much grain. No. 2. — Some recommend for horses foundered on grain, to bleed about one gallon, then to drench the horse with one quart of raw linseed oil; after this to rub the forelegs well, and for a long time, with very warm water, having a little tincture of opium mixed with it. As the horse will not recover from loss of blood for a long time, it is usually better to adopt the treat- ment given in No. 1. For Flesh Wounds— To prevent inflammation or tendency to sloughing or mortification, take 1 pound saltpetre, 2 gallons water, 3 pints proof spirits. Mix, and inject into the wound with a syringe three times a day until it heals. In treating deep wounds or those of a dangerous character, especially if the animal is inclined to be fat, give a dose of physic, feed bran, carrots, etc. No grain should be fed, and grass is more desirable than hay. If grass is fed freely, physic is not necessary. For Removing Enlargements, etc. — Oil spike, 1 ounce; camphor, 1 ounce; oil origanum, 2 ounces; oil amber, 1 ounce; spirits turpentine, 2 ounces. Rub on the mixture thoroughly, two or three times a week. For Bruises, Cuts, etc., on Horse or Man— Tinct- ure arnica, 1 ounce; sassafras oil, jounce; laudanum, 1 ounce. Mix. Shake well before using. Bandage lightly, and keep wet with the mixture. Quarter Crack — The best way to cure quarter crack is to open the heel on that side between bar and frog, 802 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY cutting down pretty well (not sufficient to cause bleeding), until the quarter will give freely; then put on a shoe that will expand the heel. It is also neces- sary in this case that the inner heel should be opened or spread, as the hoof is simply too small for the foot; if this is properly done, the point is directly reached. Some recommend, in addition to this, burning, with a hot iron, a crease across at the upper edge of hoof. If this is done properly, the hoof will not split any more. The hoof may now be more rapidly grown if desired. Opening the foot and the shoe is the point of success. Quittor — Corrosive sublimate, ^ ounce; muriatic acid, 20 drops; soft water, 2 ounces. Mix the last two and shake well, then add the first. Inject a little with a glass syringe once or twice, being careful to inject to the bottom. Warm poultices, used for several days, generally work well. To Grow Hair — Mix sweet oil, 1 pint; sulphur, 3 ounces. Shake well, and rub into the dock twice a week. For Worms — Calomel, 1 drachm; tartar emetic, i drachm; linseed meal, 1 ounce; fenugreek, 1 ounce, Mix, and give in feed at night; repeat the dose two or three times, and follow with one and a half pints of raw linseed oil, about six hours after the last powder has been given. For Distemper — Hops, 2 ounces; carbolic acid, 80 drops; boiling water, 2 gallons. Mix the hops and car- bolic acid with the boiling water, and compel the ani- OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 808 mal to inhale the steam for fifteen or twenty minutes at a time; repeat three times a day. Apply a strong mustard paste to the throat, and place a warm poultice over the paste. Feed warm mashes and boiled vegeta- bles; keep the stable comfortably warm and the air pure. Give the following powders once a day: Powdered Peruvian bark, 2 ounces; powdered gentian, 1 ounce; powdered copperas, 1 ounce. Mix, and divide into eight powders. For Ringworm — Apply mercurial ointment three or four times a week. For Brittle and Contracted Hoofs— Take of castor oil, Barbadoes tar and soft soap, equal parts of each ; melt all together and stir while cooling, and apply a little to the hoof three or four times a week. Horse Liniments — No. 1. — Oil spike, oil origanum, oil hemlock, oil wormwood, aqua ammonia, camphor gum, of each 2 ounces; olive oil, 4 ounces; alcohol, 1 quart. Mix. This is an excellent liniment for man or beast. No. 2 . — Oil origanum, oil amber, sweet oil, of each 1 ounce; oil spike, aqua ammonia and oil of tur- pentine, of each 2 ounces. Mix. No. 8. — Linseed oil, 8 ounces; turpentine, 8 ounces; oil origanum, 4 ounces. Mix well. This is excellent for sprains and bruises, and is good as a general liniment. No, 4. — Oil spike, 1 ounce; oil origanum, 2 ounces; alcohol, 16 ounces. Good for lameness resulting from almost any cause. No. 5. — Take equal parts of alcohol, chloroform, aqua ammonia, Jamaica rum and water, and mix. 304 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY For Scratches and Grease Heel— No. 1.— Balsam fir, 4 ounces; lard, 4 ounces. Stir, with a gentle heat, until thoroughly mixed. Wasli the sores well with cas- tile soap, and apply. No. 2. — Sugar of lead, 2 ounces; borax, 1 ounce; sweet oil, 6 ounces. Mix, and apply twice daily, after washing with castile soap, and dry- ing. No. 8. — Tincture of myrrh, 2 ounces; glycerine, 4 ounces; tincture of arnica, 2 ounces. Mix thor- oughly, and apply two or three times a day, after cleansing, as above, with castile soap. No. 4. — Take i ounce of powdered verdigris and 1 pint of rum or proof spirits. Mix, and apply once or twice a day. This works nicely for grease heel or mud fever. No. 5. — Take of oxide of zinc, 1 drachm; lard, 1 ounce; pow- dered gum benzoin, 10 grains; camphorated spirits, 1 drachm. Mix thoroughly, and rub on twice a week. Do not wash after the first application. Cuts, Wounds and Sores — No. 1. — Take of lard, 4 ounces; beeswax, 4 ounces; rosin, 2 ounces; carbolic acid, i ounce. Mix the first three, and melt, then add the carbolic acid, stirring until cool. This is excellent for man as well as beast. No. 2. — Tincture aloes, 1 ounce; tincture myrrh, | ounce; tincture opium, | ounce; water, 4 ounces. Mix and apply night and morning, j^o, 8. — Tincture opium, 2 ounces; tannin, ^ ounce. Mix. No. 4. — Carbolic acid, 1 ounce; soft water, 1 quart. Mix. Sweeney — No. 1. — Spanish flies, camphor gum and cayenne, of each 1 ounce; alcohol, 10 ounces; spirits turpentine, 6 ounces; oil origanum, 2 ounces. Mix. No. OP THE UNION STOCKYARDS 305 2.— Alcohol, 16 ounces; spirits turpentine, 10 ounces; muriate of ammonia, 1 ounce. Mix. No. 3. — Alcohol, water, spirits turpentine and soft soap, 1 pint of each; salt, 6 ounces. Mix. Poll Evil and Fistula— No. 1.— Copperas, 1 drachm; blue vitriol, 2drachms; common salt, 2 drachms; white vitriol, 1 drachm. Mix, and powder fine. Fill a goose quill with the powder, and push it to the bottom of the pipe, having a stick in the top of the quill, so that you can push the powder out of the quill, leaving it at the bottom of the pipe; repeat again in about four days, and two or three days from that time you can take hold of the pipe and remove it without trouble. No. 2. Tincture of opium, 1 drachm; potash, 2 drachms; water, 1 ounce. Mix, and, when dissolved, inject into the pipes with a small syringe, having cleansed the sore with soap-suds; repeat every two days until the pipes are completely destroyed. No. 3.— Take a small piece of lunar caustic; place in the pipe, after being cleansed with soap-suds; then fill the hole with sweet oil. Bots— Take new milk, 2 quarts; syrup, 1 quart. Mix, and give the whole, and, in fifteen or twenty minutes after, give two quarts of warm strong sage tea; half an hour after the tea, give one quart of raw linseed oil, or, if the oil cannot be had, give lard instead. Ointment for Horses— Beeswax, 2 ounces; rosin, 3 ounces; lard, 4 ounces; carbolic acid, 1 drachm; hon- ey, i ounce; melt all together and bring slowly to a boil; then remove from the fire, and add, slowly, 1 gill 806 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY of spirits of turpentine, stirring all the time until cool. Used, with good success, for galls, cracked heels, flesh wounds or bruises. Condition Powders — No. 1. — Gentian, fenugreek, sulphur, saltpetre, cream of tartar, of each 2 ounces; rosin, black antimony, of each 1 ounce; ginger, liquor- ice, Bounces each; cayenne, 1 ounce; pulverized and mixed thoroughly. Dose, 1 tablespoonful, once or twice a day, mixed with the food. Used, with good success, for coughs, colds, distemper, hide-bound, and nearly all diseases for which condition powders are given. No. 2. — Fenugreek, 4 ounces; ginger, 6 ounces; anise, pulverized, 4 ounces; gentian, 2 ounces; black anti- mony, 2 ounces; hard wood ashes, 4 ounces. Mix all together. Excellent to give a horse an appetite. Water Farcy — No. 1. — Saltpetre, 2 ounces; cop- peras, 2 ounces; ginger, 1 ounce; fenugreek, 2 ounces; anise, i ounce; gentian, 1 ounce. Mix, and divide into eight powders; give two or three each day. No. 2. — Gentian, 1 ounce; ginger, | ounce; anise, 1 ounce; ele- campane, 2 ounces; blue vitriol, 1 ounce; flaxseed meal, 2 ounces; saltpetre, 2 ounces. Mix, and divide into eight powders. Moderate daily exercise and rub- bing the limbs are useful. Healing Preparations — No 1, — Carbolic acid, 1 ounce; soft water, 2 pints. Mix. No. 2. — White vit- riol, 1 ounce; soft water, 2 pints. Mix. No. 8. — Pul- verized camphor, 1 drachm; prepared chalk, 6 drachms; burnt alum, 4 drachms, Mix. Sprinkle over the sore. OF- THE UNION STOCKYARDS 807 No. 4. — Tincture of opium, 1 ouDce; tannin, 1 drachm. Mix, and shake well before using. Excellent for galls of collar, saddle, or in fact for any purpose requiring a healing astringent. For Galled Back or Shoulders — Tincture of arnica, 1 ounce; vinegar, 6 ounces; brandy, 4 ounces; sal am- moniac, 2 ounces; soft water, 1 pint. Mix, and bathe with it often. For Unhealthy Ulcers — Nitric acid, 1 ounce; blue vitriol, 8 ounces; soft water, 15 ounces. Mix. For Fresh Wounds — Copperas, 2 drachms; white vitriol, 8 drachms; gunpowder,2 drachms; boiling soft water, 2 quarts. Mix. When cool it is ready for use. Healing Mixture — Cosmoline, 5 ounces; carbolic acid, 1 drachm. Mix. This is one of the very best of mixtures for any sore, especially for such cases as are inclined not to heal readily. To Cure Mange — Oil tar, 1 ounce; lac sulphur, IJ ounces; whale oil, 2 ounces. Mix. Eub a little on the skin wherever the disease appears, and continue, daily, for a week, and then wash off with castile soap and warm water. Healing Mixture for Cuts — Balsam copaiba, 2 ounces; tincture of myrrh, 8 ounces. Mix. This is a good healing mixture. Sore Lips — The lips become sore frequently at the angles of the mouth, from bruising with the bit. They can be cured by applying the following mixture: Tinc- ture of myrrh, 2 ounces ; tincture of aloes, 1 ounce; 808 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY tincture of opium, | ounce. Mix, and appty tliree or four times a day. For Sore Mouth and Lips — Borax,l ounce; tannin, ^ ounce ; glycerine, 8 ounces. Mix, and apply two or three times a day, \sith a swab. For Sprains, etc — Hog's lard and spirits of turpen- tine. Mix and place in the hot sunshine for four or five days. Apply four or five times a week. Eye Water — White vitriol and saltpetre, of each 1 scruple; pure soft water, 8 ounces Mix. This should be applied to the inflamed lids three or four times a day, and if the inflammation does not lessen in one or two days, it may be injected directly into the eye. It does nicely, many times, to just close the eye and bathe the outside freely. For Colic — Take of gum myrrh, 1 ounce; gum cam- phor, 1 cunce; powdered gum guaiac, 1 ounce; cay- enne, 1 ounce; powdered sassafras bark, 1 ounce; spir- its turpentine, 1 ounce; oil origanum, i ounce; oil hemlock, | ounce; pulverized opium, ^ ounce; strong- est alcohol, 2 quarts. Mix all together, shake often for eight or ten days, and filter or strain through flannel. Dose, from one to three tablespoonsful, according to the severity of the case; give in a pint of milk, Lice — A good old remedy for lice on horses or cattle is to boil a pint of lard, or any kind of grease, with a quart of water, and when partly cooled add a pint of kerosene. This will do it every time. OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 809 For Heaves— No 1.— One teaspoonful of lobelia, given in the feed, once a day for a week, and then once or twice a week, will stop them for a time. No. 2 — Balsam copaiba, 1 ounce; spirits of turpentine, 2 ounces; balsam fir, 1 ounce; cider vinegar, 16 ounces. Mix, and give a tablespoonful once a day. No. 8. — Saltpetre, 1 ounce; indigo, i ounce; rain water, four pints. Mix, and give a pint twice a day. No. 4. — Liquorice, elecampane, wild turnip, fenugreek, skunk- cabbage, lobelia, cayenne and ginger, equal parts of each. Mix, and give a tablespoonful once or twice a day; if the horse refuses to eat it in feed, make it into a ball and give. Contracted Hoof or Sore Feet— No. 1.— Take equal parts of soft, fat, yellow wax, linseed oil, Venice tur- pentine and Norway tar; first melt the wax, then add the others, mixing thoroughly. Apply to the edge of the hair once a day. No. 2.— Benzine, 1 ounce; salts of niter, 1 ounce; alcohol, 8 ounces; aqua ammonia, 2 ounces; Venice turpentine, 8 ounces. Mix. Apply to the edge of the hair and all over the hoof once a day for ten days, then twice a week for a short time. No. 8. — Rosin, 4 ounces; lard, 8 ounces; heat them over a slow fire, then take off and add powdered verdigris, 1 ounce, and stir well to prevent its running over; when partly cool add 2 ounces spirits of turpentine. Apply to the hoof about one inch down from the hair. MY FIRST DOWN. THE MAN OF UPS AND DOWNS. "Have you thought, in your nK^ments of triumph, O, 3^ou that are high in the tree, Of tlie (lays and tlie nights that are bitter — So bitter to others and me? When the efforts to do Avliat is clever Result in a failure so sad, And the clouds of despondency gather And dim all the hopes that we had?" I MADE my debut on the stage of life at Stratford- on-AvoD. For the edification of those little children who are told they came from heaven, I suppose I ought to call this my first down. 310 THE UNION STOCKYARDS 311 My mother died ^yheD I was two years old, and my old Durse, Eliza, became my foster mother, taking my mother's place as well as she could. Some men's mothers do die when they are young, and I have always wanted to shake hands in sympathy with them, indi- vidually, for nothing that ever happens to them after- ward will be as bad as that. Not that I mean to decry Eliza, she couldn't do any better than she did, seeing that she was not my mother. I remember I used to cry for the moon nights, about the time my mother died, and at last to quiet me Eliza carried me up into the turret of the house to look at it. The turret was reached by a ladder, and when nurse started to go down she slipped, and I went to the bot- tom goflop. I've been there a good many times since. It is usually the way, I notice, when a man wants the sun or moon or hitches his wagon to a star, he loses his hold on things, and down he goes; while some other fellow, who only wants the earth to be happy, gets it — or all he can take. After awhile I was sent to school. Most that I learned at school was that it was right to do the things I didn't like and wrong to do those I liked, and if I didn't look at it that way the fellow with the ferule did, and so I might as well too^as long as he held the ferule. The diet in that school was as strange and wonder- ful as the discipline. Individual taste and appetite were not considered. It was a case of "so much served, so much eaten." Every boy's portion was alike, and every boy was enjoined, on pain of a flogging, to leave DO morsel uneaten. Cabbage was a favorite vegetable 312 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY there. We had it fried for breakfast, boiled for dinner and chopped for supper. I have never been greedy, and as I ate my share of the cabbage produce of the world while there, I haven't eaten any since. Many things happened at school which should have prepared me for what to expect from mankind in gen- eral. They didn't, however. This is one of them: One of my school companions, Charlie Marsh, used to play a trick on me and on the other fellows smaller than himself. I suppose he chose the little ones be- cause the}^ couldn't lick him afterward. The boys were not allowed to leave the school grounds without permission, but nearly every Saturday, Marsh, mak- ing a great show of secrecy, would tell about half a dozen little fellows that he was going on a foraging expedition to a distant orchard, and ask our coopera- tion. Of course we cooperated every time. Marsh, making a great display of solicitude for our littleness, helped us over the wall, and then we all started at full speed across the fields, Marsh leading. There was a bog to be crossed, he never allowing us time to go around it, and just about the time we were in the mid- dle of it we would hear the voice of the master calling on us to come back, and Marsh calling on us to come on. We understood how volunteers feel, with disgrace behind and death in front, and went on, the bog getting deeper and deeper until we went down to our arms. And there we staid till the master reached us and pulled us out, giving each boy a whaling as he came up from the mud. That was an "up" which left a painful impres- sion upon me. Marsh, meanwhile, being longer of leg, OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 81B had reached the other side and made for the school, out of the master's sight in the tall reeds. Not being there^ he didn't get whaled. It never occurred to us then that Marsh only wanted to see us licked. We hadn't learn 9d in those days that some people would get under the wheels themselves just to see some one else ground up ; and I have noticed since then that men as well as boys will try the same bog a good many times if there is a prom- ise of apples on the other side. My next step in life was a step- mother. My father had gone to Canada then, and my stepmother came to take me to him, so my next experience was of a ship I had learned a good deal by that time — a boy can learn quite a little at school if he tries real hard — and so I rather liked leaving school and going to Canada, especially as we had to cross the ocean to get there. Nothing happened on the sea. I had always planned that when I went to sea I would be cast away upon a desert island, with a lot of hair-breadth things in be- tween, but my stepmother being with me I decided to postpone that. A fellow can't do much of that sort with women around, especially stepmothers; they don't take to it. On the same steamer with us was a French boy with a mother. He always nagged me, and it made me mad. I wanted to squash him at once, but I considered my stepmother. At last, however, I couldn't stand him READY FOR CANADA. 814 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY any longer, and one day I pitched into him before a whole deckful of people. The fine ladies screamed, "Part them, part them! They'll hurt each other!" But the men said, "Go it,England!" "At him, France!" according to which side they were on, while Frenchy's mother stood by, ruffling herself like a fat hen when you are after her chickens. But her boy was the bigger, so she controlled her emotions, I licked him, mopped the deck with him, and then set my foot on him like the show fencer does when he has broken the other fellow's foil. That was one of the times when I was up. Then Frenchy's mother showed her blood ; she treated me as her country treated Napoleon when he came back from Egypt. She took me to her cabin and filled me up with jam, figs, cakes and all the other good things they raise in France. "You coward cur!" she cried to her son, when he came sneaking in. "You let zat leettle Anglais boy wheep you! You disgrace your countree. A good Anglais man is better zan a bad Frenchman. I geef him zee zham." It's a truth I have proved since then that the fellow who gets the licking never gets the jam, though it has always seemed to me that he ought to have it for consolation. When we reached Canada I was sent to school again. School there was different from school in England. I lived at home, the school being just a public one. When I had been there awhile I found that the difference be- tween public and private schools is that at the private school you pay a good deal and get very little, and in the public school you pay very little and get a good OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 315 deal. I have observed since then that that is the differ- ence between most public and private institutions. Going to this school gave me a good deal of super- fluous confidence in mankind; nothing does that so quickly as an appearance of disinterestedness. I had yet to learn that disinterestedness is usually a snake in a dove's nest. Not that I am finding fault with my school; I am only reflecting upon the grief which con- fidence in human nature brings. In the intervals of school days I found much to amuse me at the telegraph office. I had struck up a friend- ship with the head telegraph operator, and in his idle moments he instructed me in the mysteries of teleg- raphy, until I became quite expert with the keys. I never thought then in what good stead this knowledge would stand me in after years. About this time father bought me a nag from a trav- eling gypsy. He was a black cur, as we thought, fit only for a mild scamper across the fields. We didn't know Neb — Nebuchadnezzar, Neb for short— and, like a good many people whom we underrate on first ac- quaintance, he surprised everybody when it came his time to shine. The Mason and Slidell trouble between England and the States occurred about this time, and our town had a regiment of British troops encamped in her vicinity. Races and steeplechases were frequent occurrences, and in one of these I entered Neb among a mixed lot of other horses, scrubs, curs and imported thoroughbreds. Of course no one with a scrub expected to win, but he would have the exhilaration of trying. There is a deal 81^ ILLUSTRATED HISTORY of satisfactioD in tr3nDg to do a thing even if you don't do it. Everybody tried. I tried. So did Neb. Our race was a three mile across-country go-as-you- please-but-get-there contest over a stretcli of fields and meadoN^s. I suppose the ground had been selected be* cause of the number of fences, hedges and ditches to be taken. Anyway all I know is that Neb seemed to want to graze on stars one minute and to bite the dust the next. At first the race was a mixed up scamper, all sorts and conditions of horses clearing hedges in a bunch, like hounds let loose, and then as soon as I got my breath after the first few evolutions in mid-air I found Neb and me neck and neck with the imported thoroughbred ridden by tho colonel of the regiment. I forgot that Neb wasn't a thoroughbred too, trained in steeplechases all his life; I forgot that I wasn't the colonel of a regiment, drilled in racing tactics from the day I put on little blue shoes. I forgot everything except that Neb and I must pass the w^ire before that other horse which skimmed the ground like a black- bird by my side. Steady, Neb, another fence! Ah, well done, old boy I You took that like a hunter! Off we go over another level stretch 1 1 woke up to the fact that Neb acted like an old turf horse. I almost felt his mus- cles play under me, I felt his effort to keep nose and nose with the thoroughbred, and I felt, too, that he was keeping a bit of reserve force for the home stretch, while the thoroughbred, starting with contempt for the scrubs, had set out to distance them at once. He had — all except Neb. Dear old Neb, you go like a carrier pigeon! Another ditch! Another fence! Another level! OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 817 Good boy, you're half a length ahead of him now I Steady for the last hedge now and we win ! That's it — never even touched the twigs! Steady! Stead — ah— waugh — whiz-z-z — thump — stars!!! Where are we? What happened? No, no bones brok — scratched a bit. Oh, it was only a posthole just over the hedge. Neb's foot went into it, and — we lost the race! Don't feel so bad, Neb. We aren't thoroughbreds, you know, and our pride not being up very high it couldn't come down very far either. That's the advantage of being lowly. You mustn't feel bad, Neb; it's only the dirt in my eyes makes my eyes red; and some must have got into my throat, a big lump of it. Maybe there's a lump of dirt in your throat, too. Neb. Feels ba-ba-bad, doesn't it,Ne-Ne- Neb? My boyhood seems to have ended just about that time. The first ink ^ ling I had of that dawning dignity was ^ ^ the panegyrics in the local papers the day qEL/ after that race, when "young Blank's mar ##*lP velous handling of a good horse nearly H^wi won the race against one of the best race ^ | X j horses from England, an untoward accident __^ -V" only preventing his coming in half a neck the colonel, ahead," etc., etc., etc., all of which brought home to me a realization of the fact that I was no longer a boy. I was old enough to be fleeced, and the world lost no time in in- itiating me into her methods of skinning. The world is a wonderful place. From the time you WPar long curls until you reach young manhood it makes much of you, teaches you to think it a good, 318 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY motherly old world, whose particular business it is to raise up friends for you — good hail-fellows-well-met who have so much affection for you and such unbounded confidence in your great-heartedness that they come to you with their troubles, demonstrate their friendship by borrowing your money, drinking your wine and rid- ing your horses. Then some fine day you open your purse and find it empty, you go to your stable and find it vacant. It's a shock, but the recollection of your hosts of friends helps you to recover. You go to your friends They must be busy today, they are all in such a hurry. They are always busy after that. And grad- ually it dawns upon you that the wind blows from the north wherever you go. It's a puzzler at first; you don't understand it. The very last thing people do understand is that their friends have left them — those dear friends who were all graciousness, caudidness and affection a little while ago. It's wonderful how quickly the channel of love can be dammed by adversity. My father died soon after my first realization of dawning manhood, my stepmother getting his whole property. I had my first experience then of being broke. Broke is a good word. It was probably invented by some man who hadn't a cent nor a friend; who hadn't a place to sleep nor anything to eat; a man who would like to have pillowed his head on the sands of the lake, with the water above him for bedclothing, but who had too much stamina to lay down the gun to a world composed largely of ingrates, and having no other occupation h3 coined a word to describe his condition. The result was "broke." It's a good word, I say. OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 819 Well, I was broke, I was do-wn in cash, down in friends, down in spirits — I was down, in fact, below the bottom of the ladder. And I had about as correct a view of mankind from that point as I have ever had in my life. It's an awful thing to see your fellow men from below. You can't see their heads nor the region of their hearts; all you can see is their feet, and that part of a man's anatomy which he turns toward you when you ask him for a loan, and you are not inspired thereby with confidence. I learned then that men are attractive or repulsive according to the direction from which you see them. A man who is broke seldom cares to stay in a place where he has seen better days. At least so it was with me. So I gathered up my belongings, including two handsome mastiffs and a little fox terrier, Flirt, who was my particular pet, and left for the States. Finally I drifted to Kansas City to exhibit my dogs at a dog show being held there. For a while I lived well there on the profits of a streak of good luck, putting up at the best hotel and enjoying my temporary prosperity. After that for a while I lived part of the time in leisure and all the time in anxiety. Then I did something of which I have been ashamed ever since. I sacrificed my little friend Flirt, whose devotion to me had for so long been a source of great pleasure to me. Poor Flirt! I would rather have a wag of your tail today than the shake of most men's hands. But a man will sacrifice even his friends to his necessities, and I sacrificed Flirt. Sitting in my hotel one evening with Flirt at my side I was engaged in conversation by a young Englishman. 320 ILLUSTRATE!) HISTORY Flirt's presence haviug turni>d the talk on dogs, he re- marked, "I would like to get a pair of mastiffs, some- thing extra fine." "You have not far to go," I answered, "I know a man who has the best pair in Amer- ica. " "Who and where is he?" demanded the English- man, eagerly. "Here. I am the man," By nine o'clock next morning he had my dogs, Flirt included, and I had $900 in my inside pocket. That day a letter came to me, a yellow, typewritten letter. I have always felt shy of yellow typewritten letters since then. It was apparently a kindly inten- tioned letter and read: DAILY MARKET LETTER. DENMAN BROWNE A CO. COMMISSION MERCHANTS GRAIN, PROVISIONS, SEEDS. ETC. 43 BOIROOFTIUOC riMlDC* M/ioc m i 1. .«D TO .tT-ri. e<,«..eT. we WILI. use OOB DISCRETION IN ^ILLI^O OUDCBB rOII MUITII* • ■t«TN««UL«s.-ocw.TO«. gQ SIT UATC O TM AT T M E V C » N NO f FOLLOW >■ «»|«i,o»0«" '• ■••cuT.o. MUBKET FLUCTU4TI0NS Dear Sir: Wednesday, May 21, 18<^:. To-day's markets cables spot wheat 1-2 d. higher. Wheat fluctuations quick and violent, open firmer with heavy rains in the northwest. There is not a bushel of wheat at the se^aboard, and when all the Duluth and Chicago wheat reaches tide water, it will rapidly disappear and give us an imnenaf^ decrease In the visible. Anybody knows that we shall not have half a crop and there is great danger of that being destroyed by chinch bugs, which have imde their appearanc-e in vast numbers In the wheat belts. There is a black war cloud hanging over 1?urope. The German Emperor has telegraphed he will not attend the yacht races, and so many chances yet for damagea %o the growing poor crop, and when one stops to think that. OF THE UNION STOCK YARDS 821 winter wheat only shows half a crop, and with bug reports, we believe purchases of wheat should be made at once. Good people are buying. Cudahue took on two millions on the reaction; values will certainly be twenwy to twenty- ' ^flve cts. hl^er. All that holds it down is the present low demand and May liquidations by parties who got it deliv* cre.d to them and did not want it, and also due largely to lack of demand, but the bears~^have had their day. Com and oats firm and much hl^er, provisions closed on the tOp. Hoping to be favored with a share of your orders, I •€• sain yoursy very truly. I at oDce perceived millioDs in that letter, large, pow- erful, reassuring millions, and I rolled the word under my tongue like a sugar plum. Only it was much more exquisitely delicious than any sugar plum I had ever had, even when a very little boy. Following the di- rections, I hurried to see my new friend. I call him friend, for I was sure that he must be some one speci- ally raised up by Providence, if not indeed specially createdyto help me set on my newly acquired dollars and hatch them into geese which should each and individ- ually be the goose that laid the golden egg I felt my- self to be up, distinctly and distinguishedly up. I might be a Vanderbilt before the week's end, and trod the street as a prospective Rockefeller. I found my friend in. That was no surprise. It seemed only nat- ural that people, specially-raised-up friends in particu- lar, should be waiting for the soon-to-be millionaire. 322 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY I believe people usually do wait in for millionaires He was a bucket shop steerer. I didn't understand from his letter that he was a bucket shop steerer. But I reflected that great ends are sometimes wrought by small means. We had dinner together. It was a simple dinner for a man who might sup that very night from a banquet. Then we went to the board of trade. He conducted me to a dim corner where even a wink would be invisible to others. There was to be a sudden raise in that staple commodity, wheat. Wheat had a nice, rich sound to my ears. It was a word one could associate with pride with the making of a sudden fortune. It was a substantial sounding name, and there's a good deal in a name, Shakespeare to the contrary notwith- standing. I thought that I would really rather make my fortune in wheat than in anything else. I associated this agreeable development with the good offices of my friend, a special manipulation of minor details, in fact, for my sole gratification, and felt that I could never be sufficiently grateful to him. I willingly gave up $800— $100 for 10,000 bushels and $200 for margins, and sat still waiting for the $300 to develop into thousands. They didn't develop. My steerer came to reassure me. Such things often hap- pened, he said; I must buy another 10,000 bushels on the drop. Of course, I now reflected, there must necessarily be intermediate steps attended with anxiety in the ac- quisition of millions. Otherwise everybody would be reaping millions from a few dollars. I hadn't thought of that before and it completely restored my cheerful- ness. I bought another 10,000 bushels on the drop. OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 823 Buying wheat on the drop sounded well to my ears then. I felt that I should appreciate much more a fortune so narrowly won, snatched from the turning of a hair, as it were. The only drawback to my appreciation or my fortune either was that the hair didn't turn. The wheat dropped. So did my expectations. Both have been dropping ever since. I dropped out of the bidding with $2 in my pocket- My confidence in my fellow men dropped also^ dropped far below zero. It hasn't come up yet. Two dollars is a small sum on which to begin life, particularly if you have to live on it too, until you be- gin. Instead of investing $800 in wheat I now invested five cents in a copy of the Times. I then retired to the park, and seated on the grass looked over the '*want" columns of the paper There was nothing there to arouse my expectations greatly after my recent disap- pointment. I was not familiar with "want" columns, and at any other time some of the ads. might have in- spired sanguinary hopes. They invited me to organize secret societies for a high commission per head, to sell a useful household article and thereby earn $50 daily, to become a painter, printer, coachman or auctioneer. None of these occupations appealed to me as my voca- tion in life. Painting and printing were not in my list of accomplishments I doubted my ability to sell a household article, however useful. To be an auction- eer, then, was all that remained to me. It was not ex- actly in my line, but I reflected that in my new way of life, without the prop of a full purse, I should probably sometimes have to stoop to conquer, and I might as well begin at once. 824 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY Calling at the address given, I surprised myself by securing t le position. The next morning I rode to the scene of the auction I found it a picturesque vacant acre in tlie suburbs, called the Elms. The name was no doubt derived from a solitary scrub elm standing in the center of the ground, which the imagination of the spon- sor magnified into a iiumber of fine old trees. At least I surmised that must have been the way, to account for the name being in the plural number. Imagina- tion goes a good way toward making life pleasant. The genius vv'ho owned the acra had fenced it in and rented it to my employer for a horse market — I almost said a horsemeat market, for I found that dead horses were also sold there, their price being uniformly $2, regardless of whether they were fat, juicy and tender or lean and tough as some men's souls. A live horse, I learned, was worth the price of a dead horse plus the value of the life that remained in him. Some of the horses there had fifty cents' worth of life, and others had as much as $50 worth. Those who did not buy a horse for his steak were speculators on the life that was in him. But most of the horses sold were "pelters " "plugs," "skinners" or "skates," words which are all abbreviations of the sentence "fit only for slaughter." When the moment came for the sale I sat in my buggy (my employer's, I mean), and announced the con- ditions of the sale to the assembled speculators, ped- dlers and junkmen, a ragged crowd of mongrel humans who came with four or five dollars in their pockets to buy a poor beast to draw their ramshackle carts. In- creasing my voice to a stentorian depth, I said: "All OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 325 we guarantee is that the horse is alive when the ham- mer falls. " My employer had given me strict injunc- tions on this point, for should a horse breathe his last two minutes after the hang of the hammer the loss would be the buyer's, and he couldn't even complain. "Here comes a pelter," yelled the crowd as the stable man led out an unhappy beast which trotted weakly up and down behind tlie man. "Start it," I cried "What'll it be? Two dollars! two dollars! Half '11 make it three, " etc., etc., etc., until all but one animal had been sold. The last horse led out was blind; he also had the uiange, and spring- halt, and was windbroke. These complications were aggravated by a degree of weakness which in a hu- man would be called locomotor ataxy. He was alive. That fact was made apparent by his ability to follow the groom by force of the halter. Had the halter broken he would have fallen on his haunches. I am possessed of a certain amount of humanity, and to sell this poor beast seemed an act of brutality of which I should never have thought myself capable. But I reflected that I was there to sell anything, and that the choice lay between selling the horse and losing my position. I did the former, and, as it developed, the latter also. This was the forty-third horse sold that morning, and closed the auction. It also closed my career as a knight of the hammer. The man who bought the object of my pity paid $2.50 for him, and led him proudly from the market. Just outside the enclosure the horse fell down and died. The peculiarity about that horse was that he hadn't fallen down and died before. I have 826 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY not the stomach of an ostrich, and this sight settled me in the conviction that while I miglit be an auctioneer of horses I could never be an auctioneer of live horse- meat, and that evening I handed in my "chips." My next step in life was to become a telegraph oper- ator. I took that step by accident. Some accidents are fortunate. This was one of them. My knowledge of telegraphy picked up for amusement at the little telegraph office in my little Canadian city stood me in good stead. When a man is on hia feet he goes up the ladder quickly. Promotions followed rapidly, and within six months I was successively all-round man, city chief, weather reporter, associated press reporter, worked a New York quod, and did the C. and D. 's. I went up rapidly and came down even more so. In fact, I came down so rapidly that within twenty-four hours after leaving the telegraph office as usual in the even- ing, on the best of terms with my superiors in office, and with every prospect of being manager within a week's time^ I was again a man of "infinite leisure," though not of "expensive amusements " The memora- ble great strike had come and, like all good members of the union, I "walked out" with the boys. The following week I was engaged by the opposition telegraph company to take charge of their office at Boom Creek, Colorado. I liked Boom Creek. I shall always remember it with pleasure. A man usually does remember a place with pleasure where he has raised the rhino. That i)redisposes him in its favor for all time. I did the C. and D. 's there also — that is, I took the board of trade quotations — and with the inside information OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 827 thus gained I speculated in wheat. As a result I cleared $15,000, beside incidentally clearing out two bucket shops. With this little "pile" I resigned my position and went to Omaha. I was now a full-fledged "plunger," and my own steerer. That fact had brought back to me my one-hour vision of millions, and I watched m}'' chance to make them, ^^e day I thought it had come, and I plunged. I plunged, but I didn't bring up the goblet. I was broke again! Completely broke! Dead broke! A week after leaving Boom Creek I sat in the park and meditated on the gloominess of my prospects. The park is a sort of "friendly arms" for men who are broke. But I don't complain. The wheels of the world roll rapidly, and if a man does not get out of the way quick enough he'll get under. So I sat in the park and meditated. Meditation, the philosophers tell us, is good for the soul^ and I won't presume to doubt them, But it isn't profitable. I have had plenty of opportunities to meditate, but I never grew fat on it. I noticed a number of other men who came to the park to meditate. They didn't grow fat either. I tried to fraternize with the other men. I felt that we all had one thing in common; we were all broke. That fact was the one conspicuous, unmistak- able thing about us— when we were in the park. Else- where we put on cheerful faces. And I thought as we were mutually unfortunate — and misfortune is said to make all the world akin — we might exchange advice. Advice was the only thing within our means. We would have liked cigars better, but we yielded gracefully to the 328 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY inevitable. But I found that being broke was the only attribute, as it were, which was common to us. They were lovers of nature in the nude; in fact, they were quite artistically particular on that point. They lived out of doors so they could see nature in their favorite garb. Th^y preferred a stump to sit on to the softest chair, and the grass to walk on rather than the richest carpet; the trees and flowers were their interior decora- tions, the clouds their hangings and the sky their roof. In short, the whole land was their dwelling, and houses were only necessary blemishes on the landscape, the kitchens of their chefs, as it were. They were like the lilies of the field, they toiled not, neither did they spin, and yet they were clothed — and presumably in their right minds. They confided to me that they lived on the fat of the land, and yet were I to believe the tales of great distances traveled by them I calculated they must eat it as they walked — maybe with the forks of the road. One afternoon, a few days after my fatal plunge, I strolled downtown. In my pocket were three cold, solitary nickels, the last of my $15,000. With one of these I bought some buns and an apple. With my paper bag in hand I started to stroll back again. I should say that I was strolling at the rate of twenty miles an hour. There is no better inducement to stroll at a brisk pace than a paper bag. There is something about a paper bag which tempts a man to get to his destination in the shortest time possible. A man can't feel proud when in company with a paper bag. Suddenly I halted. I didn't halt of my own free will, but because I couldn't OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 329 go any farther The reason I couldn't go any farther was that there was a man in front of me and I was in front of him, and we were so close in front of each other that for a moment it was painful. In fact, there was a shock, in which we got generally mixed up, and the paper bag burst with excitement. The man com- menced to apologize to me and I commenced to apolo- gize to him, and finally we apologized to each other and were going on again, when he caught sight of the bag and the buns on the pavement and called: "Oh, I say, isn't this yours?" "No," I answered, "isn't it yours?" We looked back suspiciously at each other, and then it dawned upon us both that we had seen each other before. "I beg your pardon, but are you not Mr. Blank of Hamilton, Canada?" "Yes," I answered, "and you are Tiord Dasham of Dorsetshire, England." Then we fraternized. We talked over old times, old England and New America. In the former Lord Dasham had an ancestral home and a bank account, in the latter a ranch and paying investments. He was very enthusiastic over his ranch and paying investments. He even tried to interest me in his ranch, and I was willing to be interested. I let him know that I was willing to be interested. When he had talked himself out on that subject it occurred to him to ask what I was doing. T told him. That is, I did not give him a minute account of my daily occu- pation, but I intimated that I was looking around for an opening in some paying business. He said that he wished I would manage his ranch for him. I said I 830 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY might consider that. He said he would let me hear from him about it, and then we both said good-day and shook hands. He went to his hotel to keep an en- gagement and I went to the park to wait for one. The next morning I saw by the paper that he had left town My hopes left me. That afternoon, as usual, I sauntered downtown, stop- ping at my old hotel for mail, where I still had it ad- dressed. Among other things there was a telegram waiting for me. I ripped it open and read: ''Start at once for my ranch. I send you fifty pounds for expenses." Fifty pounds — two hundred and fifty dollars! And a position which wonld be a paying one! Surely my ups were as sudden as my downs! Lord Dasham's ranch was in Montana, a state at that time inhabited principally by deer and a wilder- ness. There were no railroads penetrating to it, and my means of transit would be a pony and a revolver. I paid a debt or two and a few other things. Then I took the train to Sydney, Nebraska, the farthest point reached by the steel steed. At Sydney I set about lay- ing in my traveling outfit. I had not much money left after paying my debts and the few other things, 8<^ I was obliged to be economical. I laid in a pony for $20, a blanket for $2 50, a cricket cap for seVanty- five cents, an umbrella to ke3p the sun off, for $2, and a pearl handled pistol for $3. The pearl handled pistol, which was about four inches long, was to keep off Indians. I had never seen any Indians except stolidly peaceful ones, but I felt a great deal of con- OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 831 THE TENDERFOOT READY TO START FOR THE RANCH. fidence in myself ajid my pearl handled pistol. I thought that together we could keep thena off. The next morning I started for the ranch, which I was told was 220 miles from Sydney. About forty miles from the city I came up with an old buffalo hunter. We fraternized. His name was McNeal and he was on his way to his own ranch, which was 100 miles this side of Lord Dasham's, so journeying with him would start me well on my way to my destination. That night we camped out. My pony was tired, for Mc- Neal's horse was a long-limbed, fresh animal, and neither the rider nor the horse was inclined to lag on his way to accommodate my pony. So it was a case 832 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY of company if we kept pace, or travel alone if we didn't. We both preferred compan}^, so we kept pace. In the afternoon of the next day we reached the Big Powder River. As we rode along the bank my companion re- marked that we must cross it. "Where's the bridge?" I asked, glancing up and dov,^n the wide, rapidly flowing stream, '^I'll show you," he answered, and before I could say another word he turned his horse's head toward the river, and in he plunged. I had a vague feeling that it was an accident, and that I ought to rush to his rescue, but McNeal didn't look as though he was the victim of an accident. "Are you going to cross here? ' I called after him. He called back that that was what he was doing, and seeing me linger on the bank with an expression of, to say the least, unwillingness on my face, he added, "The longer you look at it the less you'll like it. I'm going on and you can go back if you want to; it's forty miles. But if you can't cross tliis river you had better go back to Omaha right away; you won't do in this country." My pony ended the discussion. He had been whinny- ing after the other horse and now, with one bound over the bank, took the water after him, I remembered that in rowing across a river the boat is turned up stream. I tried to turn my pony up stream also, when my companion shouted, "Swim down stream; let your pony have his head!" I let my pony have his head and swam down stream. I thought I was going to swim under the stream. My pony was light of weight, while OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 833 I was no feather, and as a consequence we sank deeper and deeper until only the poor beast's nozzle remained above water. When he reached this depth I felt some anxiety. Most people would. I offered up a prayer. Some people do pray. Just as I murmured ''amen" the beast's foot caught in a snag under the water, and— well, the reader will have to imagine what happened during the next minute. I have always had to imagine it myself. My recollection of the occurrence begins where the pony floundered up the opposite bank with me on his back. At least I was somewhere on him It might have been on his neck. I don't just remember. On the bank stood McNeal. McNeal had a look of mingled anxiety and amazement on his face. I didn't blame him, but when he asked if I had never crossed a river before I felt that there are moments when a man shouldn't express his thoughts even if he can't help looking them. We rode on again. In my heart was a feeling of sin- cere thankfulness to Providence. It didn't last long. When we had ridden about three miles, there was the river before us again. It was before us again three times after that. We crossed it each time. There is nothing like getting used to a thing,and I suppose the windings of the Big Powder River are an invention of Old Nick to make people used to it. That afternoon about nightfall we had a scare. I say we, because I know I was scared and I suppose my com- panion was. He didn't look scared, but I attributed his calmness to the probable fact of his having greater control over his facial muscles than I had. Just as the 834 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY sun sank down behind the outer rim of the plains there rose between us and the blush in the western sky a cloud of dust. It came nearer and nearer. McNeal looked at it keenly. "Indians," was all he said. I remembered my pearl handled pistol and felt reassured. I saw McNeal put his hand to his belt, and I surmised that he was after his revolver. I didn't want to seem slow in making defensive preparations, so I whipped out mine, and held it in my hand, resting my hand on the pummel. I was startled to hear my companion ex- claim, "Thunder and liglitningl" and turning to see what was the matter, found his eyes fixed on my pearl handled pistol, with a stare of such complete and utter amazement as one sees only once in a lifetime. He struggled to find his voice, and having found it demand- ed, "What are you going to do with that?" I thought he was unstrung by the presence of danger, and answered calmly, not to say cheerfully, "Do with it? Why, defend myself, of course I" McNeal looked at me. I have heard people laugh be- fore, but I never have heard any one laugh as he did when he threw his head back after that look. His laugh was so sudden and loud, so deep and hilarious, that the horses jumped. He laughed so long I feared he couldn't stop, and was getting hysterical. At last he did stop, however, and exclaimed, "You are a tenderfoot! You couldn't kill a prairie dog with that!" My spunk rose in a minute. I was opening my mouth to say something back, when m}^ eye happened to light on his revolver. It was a 42 caliber Remington, and about eighteen inches long I saw the point. The house OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 385 had tumbled on me. I forgave McNeal. I did more thaD that— I laughed. I did not laugh quite so long nor so loud as he did, but I laughed. We had consumed about four minutes in this occupation, and now looked again for the distant cloud of dust. It was still far away, but was coming nearer and nearer. At the same time the sky was getting darker and darker, for which we were duly thankful. We turned our horses towaid a clump of scrub oak, behind which we halted. Ten minutes later a band of twenty or thirty Indians swept by us about fifty yards to the right, passing out of sight in the growing gloom. It was a little incident. But it might have been a tragedy. We reached McNeal's ranch late that night,and upon his invitation I remained there several days. It was a welcome interruption of the journey. Both I and my pony needed rest. The journey thus far had been any- thing but pleasant. I had discovered that cricket caps were not exactly adapted to crossing the plains in mid- summer. My eyes had grown bloodshot and were nearly blinded by the glare of the sun on the sands, while the dry heat had swelled my face to double its size. I was no beauty in that condition. And it was worse after- ward, when my skin peeled off in strips. The few days spent at McNeal's ranch did much to heal my face and eyes, and when I started on my journey again I was not such a bad looking object. We bid each other good-bye cordially, for we had grown quite friendly, and I didn't mind it when, as I rode away, McNeal called after me, "Oh, by the way. Blank, take good care of that pearl handled pistol of yours." 336 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY I rode all that day without any unusual incident, and at night camped near a great boulder I tethered tnypojiy and laid me down behind the shelter of the rock. I slept well and woke with the ])leafiant expec- tation of reaching my destination by nightfall. I have iloticed that one usually d€>es have pleasant expectations just before disappointments When I was well awake I looked over the rock to see whether my pony looked as pleasantly expectant as I felt. My curiosity was not satisfied. Sim])ly because the pony was not there. I sprang up in a hurry, and looked all around. He couldn't be playing hide-and-seek with me, because there was nothing behind which to hide. And on all the great expanse of plain there was no pony in sight. Coming out of the eastern horizon, however, wag a great herd of cattle. They were so far away that I could not distinguish one animal from another, and I fancied that maybe my pony had grown lonesome and sought their company. I didn't fancy seeking their company in search of him myself. These wild cattle of the plains are dangerous to men on foot. They evidently regard him as of a different species from a man on horseback, and do not hesitate to attack him There was nothing else to do, however. The herds would shortly spread all over the plain to graze, and I should be no safer to stay where I was than to gi where they were. So I started. As the morning advanced herds seemed to come from every point cf the horizon, scattering out until the whole plain was mottled with the formidably horned beasts I was beginning to congratulate myself on the faot OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 337 that they did not seem to observe me. and was making straight for what appeared at that distance to be the dried up bed of a shallow river. On the bank stood a solitary scrub oak tree, and a short distance away lay a huge pile of debris and underbrush, probably thrown up by the river during a century of springs when the water was high. I began to hope my pony might be there. A second later I was sure of it, and espied him grazing peacefully far down the bed of the stream. Just at that moment I heard an angry bellow behind me. I turned. There stood a great black bull, pawing the earth and tossing his long horns vindictively at me. I did not wait to offer an explanation of my own inoffen- sive intentions, but made straight for that scrub oak. The bull made straight for me. I was up the tree in a twinkling The bull stood down below glaring at me. When he tired of that he pawed the earth and dug up the sand with his horns, roaring ferociously the while. We kept up this performance for three hours. At the end of that time he wandered off to the pile of debris and began goring his horns into that. Then a queer thing happened. Queer things do happen sometimes even in Montana. A great cinnamon bear sprang from beneath the underbrush, and before I could believe my eyes the bull and bear charged each other fiercely. They fought well. It was as pretty a battle between a bull and a bear as I have seen outside a board of trade. They were both fine specimens of their kinds, and were well matched. At the end of half an hour both animals lay on the ground, kicking their last feeble kicks. The rest of the herd had watched the battle with interest. 888 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY I daresay they even speculated on the result. At least the buiis at the board of trade speculate on results. At the end of the battle they sniffed the corpses suspicious- ly, and then, throwing their tails in the air, turned and galloped over the plain with a unanimous bellow. I got off my perch and went in search of my pony, who was again out of sight. I found him, however, with- out difficulty, and resumed my journey. I encountered no other adventures, and reached my destination next morning. The ranch which was to be my kingdom I found to consist of several thousand acres of plains, with a shed-like cabin in the way of "im- provements. " Thousands of heads of cattle grazed on the plains, beside 1,200 mares. My duties were not difficult and my remuneration was to be $2,000 annually, beside half of the colts from the mares, I fancied it would be profitable if not pleasant, and T also fancied I could stand it for a while at least. I was mistaken in both conjectures, The mode cf life on a Montana ranch is trying. Among its evils are isolation and a diet of dried apples and rice. Of course, we had company and meat once in a while, but neither was very frequent. We had company from the far-away civilized world only once while I was there, that is, when Lord Dasham paid us a visit. And we had meat whenever we could get it. We got it whenever we could. Several times a week three hunters would be sent out to get it. One went to catch fish, a second to shoot geese and the third to kill any edible animal he could find. Generally they returned with full cartridge b^lts and empty game bags. As I and the cowboys od OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 389 the ranch were all carnivorous, this enforced vegetarian- ism was anythiEg but agreeable. While I am on the diet question, T may as well add that our cooking uten- sils were limited in number, and that on special occa- sions our tin washbasin served as a pudding dish. And that reminds me that I have never eaten a more de- licious plum pudding than we baked in that tin wash- basin the following Christmas. Our manner of sleeping was also novel. Down the sides of the one long room of the cabin were placed the slender trunks of pine trees. At night we threw our buffalo robes on the floor, one end over the tree trunks, which served us for pillows. During the day the logs were used for seats. . . The object of Lord Dasham's visit that fall was to instruct me to breed mules instead of horses. I pro- tested. Lord Dasham insisted. He said that the mule colts from his 1,200 mares would be infinitely more profitable than the thoroughbreds I wished to breed. I yielded, and throughout the long winter I waited anxiously and he hopefully for the spring foal- ing of mules. Spring came at last, the snow breaking up and making traveling into the mountains, where the mares were in the habit of wintering, possible. So with a posse of cowbo3^s I started out to round up the long looked for crop of mules. After a day's search we found our mares but not our mules. At last, how- ever, late in the afternoon, we happened into a gully. The first things our eyes rested upon were three little black objects which we at first took for jack rabbits. But when we espied three mares near them I realized 840 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY that this was our crop cf mules, the colts from the 1,200 mares of which I was to have half. Even such a result of his venture did not convince Lord Dasham that mules would not pay, and this con- firmed my suspicion that in this case at least two heads were not better than one. A week later I strapped my buffalo robes across my pony — the same pony on which I had traveled to the ranch — and bidding adieu to the cowboys and the career of a ranchman, I turned my face again toward the East. My journey eastward was not attended with such ad- ventures as marked my coming West. That is, I should say, that I suffered no accidents, although I caused one. I had my buffalo robes strapped to my pony behind and in front of me, the pile reaching almost to my chin in front. I daresay I was a formidable looking object to any one seeing me from the front, with my round head protruding from this massive mound of shaggy hide, which gave my pony the appearance of a monstrous long-legged turtle. As the sun was setting on the after- noon of my first day's journey I climbed up the western slope of a steep hill. On the eastern slope was a squat- ter plowing with a pair of mules, and as I approached the summit from the west he approached it from the east We saw each other. The mules stopped stock still as if suddenly petrified, and then throwing their tails into the air,turned and fled across the plains. The squatter stood with his eyes glued to my advancing monstrousness — I can't say form, fori had none — with an expression which said that escape from such an an- tediluvian monster was clearly impossible. As I passed OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS '841 on he turned as if moving on a pivot and continued gazing- after me, horror fixed on his face. As far as I could see him he still gazed, and is probably gazing yet; and judging by the velocity with which his mules shot across the plains they must be running yet. On my way back I passed through Rapid City, now a place of (30,000 people, but then a ranch and a black- smith shop. I was keeping company with the stage which then ran between Buffalo and Miles City, and the stage driver said to me as we passed the blacksmith shop, "If you want to get rich hop off and squat here; the Northwestern road will be here inside of two years, and you can own a million in no time." That seemed so absurd that I laughed. I am laughing with the other side of my mouth now. Suburban lots there are now worth $500 apiece At Miles City I had a big, juicy steak, the first I had tasted since leaving Omaha. Afterward I took the train for St. Paul. At St. Paul I fell in with two old acquaintances, Major Roe and Captain Gray. They were talking of taking a ranch. I suggested that they go to Cincinnati and start a horse exchange instead, backing up the sug- gestion with an intimation that there was a fortune in that business. The idea of a fortune pleased them. Gray in particular. Gray was a highflyer, and when- ever he had a fortune he kept a tiger and drove four thoroughbreds. Naturally he would like to have a for- tune. There are a few people who don't care much for a fortune, but he was not one of them. Neither am I. So we all came to Cincinnati and started a horse ex- 342 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY change. Soon we were all on the highroad to riches. Gray was beginning to look around for four thorough- breds and a tiger. It was not to be, however. We were going up the road too fast, and were dooming our- selves to come down faster. One unlucky day I went over to Michigan to buy horses. I bought 100, making a deposit of $10 on each horse. Two hours after paying the last deposit I sat in my hotel waiting for a draft from Gray to pay the balance and take the horses back with me, when a telegram was handed me. It was from Gray and read. "Cannot send you any money. Every- thing lost." I didn't understand, so I took the next train to Cin- cinnati to find out. On the way I occupied myself conjecturing whether Gray had been burglarized, been burned out or gone crazy. I hoped it was the latter. There is some hope for a man who has gone crazy, but none for one who has been burglarized or burned out to such an extent that "every th ing is lost. " Conjecturing was neither profitable nor pleasant. So I was natur- ally glad when Isaw an old man sitting opposite me who looked as though he might be grateful for a little at- tention. He was sick, unused to traveling and a dear old soul beside. I brought him some coffee from away- side station, and made him as comfortable as I knew how. I have never seen any one so grateful for small favors When we reached his station I put him into a cab, while he pressed my hand and begged me to come and see him should I ever pass through his town. I promised and hurried back to the train. When I reached Cincinnati I discovered that Gray OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 843 had neither been burglarized, burned out nor gone crazy. He had been speculating. He told the truth when he said that '^everything was lost." Everything ivas lost, completely, irretrievably lost. I also lost the deposit on the 100 horses, not having the money to pay the bal- ance on them. I don't blame Gray. He had a tiger and four on the brain, and I daresay he felt that he couldn't wait much longer for thetn. A man is hardly responsible when he has something on the brain, es- pecially a tiger and four. I stayed in Cincinnati about two months. Nearly every week of that time I had a letter from the old gen- tleman whom I had met on the train. Every letter was an invitation, each one more urgent than the last, to me to come and pay his wife and him a visit. I was feeling rather sore against the world at that time. I didn't care much to visit anybody. But at last the in- vitation became so urgent that I yielded, and one afternoon found myself strolling up Euclid Avenue, Dupeton, to my new friend's residence. The residence in question was an old-fashioned mansion standing in a large garden On the steps sat an old lady of about seventy-five years. "Is Mr. Blanchard in?" I asked her. "No," she answered, "but h« will be soon. Won't you sit down?" I sat down. "Shall you go to the races tomorrow, Mrs. Blanch- ard," I asked, for I surmised that the old lady was Mrs. Blanchard. "No," she answered, laughing, "who would take an old woman like me?" 844 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY ''I will," I said, but before I could say more Mr. Blanchard appeared before us. He greeted me with the greatest cordiality and introduced me formally to his wife. We spent an unusually pleasant evening together, and before we parted for the night they had a fair knowl- edge of the ups and downs of my life, while I knew that they were a childless old couple pining for a pair of strong young hands to do for them. - Next morning after breakfast I went downtown to see some friends who had brought horses to the races which were coming off that day. "Don't forget to be ready to go with me to the races, Mrs. Blanchard," I said as I left the house. "You wouldn't take an old woman to the races, would you?" she asked. "Of course, I am going to take you," and off I went. Two hours later I was back with a carriage. Mrs. Blanchard was just as I had left her, clothed in a wrap- per. "Why, Mrs. Blanchard," I cried, "I'm afraid you'll have to hurry, or we'll be late." "Good Lord, my boy," she gasped, catching sight of the carriage outside, "I didn't believe you were in ear- nest I I thought you were joking!" "Not joking at all. Get ready at once." "My lands, my dear boy, I haven't had anything on but a wrapper for twenty years, "and the dear old soul dropped into a chair, overwhelmed with the idea of "dressing up. " I told her that that was all the more reason why she should put on something else now, and with that I hurried her into her room and shut the door OP THE UNION STOCKYARDS 345 Oil her. Then I sat down on the stairs awaiting the transformation I waited hall an hour. Then I rapped on the door and an excited voice bade me ''Come in." I went in There stood Mrs Blanchard before an open trunk full of dressea of a past age. She had on a silk dress which must have been handsome twenty years ago. It was slightly out of date now. More than that, it only went half way around her, and she was tugging for dear life to get it the rest of the way. "It's no use, my boy, it's no use," she gasped, all in a flutter, "I can't get this on." "Oh, yes, you can," I answered, and with that I took hold of the gown and pulled it together. She was greatly relieved and laughed heartily, her old eyes twinkling merrily. "I must wear my diamonds today, that I haven't had on for twenty-five y ars," and with that she hobbled to an old-fashioned marble top table, swung the top aside and revealed to my astonished eyes a glittering bed of the finest diamonds I have ever seen. They cov- ered the entire bottom of the receptacle, the cover of which was the marble top. There were brooches as big as saucers, earrings, rings, pins, tiaras, lockets and necklaces, all of the goodly size fashionable fifty years ago. From this mass she took out a massive brooch, a pair of earrings, half a dozen rings and a jeweled watch. These she put on and announced proudly that she was ready. I don't believe I have ever created such a sensation in my life as I did that day. I had gotten the best car- riage the local livery boasted of, and with this old lady B46 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY by my side, her old-fashioned gown sparkling with dia- monds, trailing old-fashioned earrings almost touching her shoulders and her wrinkled old face beaming brighter than her brightest gem, I felt prouder than the proverb- ial peacock. She was the cynosure of all eyes, as the books say, and all my friends — and I knew every horse- man there — were flustrated to know who she was. That evening I was aware that Mr. and Mrs. Blanch- ard were having a private consultation. The next day T was let into the secret. They wished me to stay with them, to be "their boy," as they called it, to take charge of their property while they lived and to inherit it when they died. I demurred. They insisted. In- sistence is as good a quality as perseverance, and after 83veral days of indecision I yielded. The property, val- ued at $50,000, was made over to meat once. We cele- brated the event with a dinner, at which I was intro- duced to their friends as their adopted son. The papers got hold of the story and chronicled the occurrence in the largest type as a rise "From a Cowboy to the Owner of a Euclid Avenue Mansion." Had I been fond of notoriety I should have been in my ele- ment. Before I knew it I had more friends than I could count. I was bowed to and smiled upon and scraped be- fore until I was tired. This lasted about three months. Three months is a long time for good fortune to last. Then I went t) New York on business. While there I thought the old people ought to have an outing after so many years of seclusion. So I sent back several trunks full of materia) and sent an order to the best dressmaker and tailor 0^ THE UNION STOCKYAKDS 847 o^ the town to make it up in a hurry and in the latest style. Then I rented a cottage at Coney Island. That done, I hurried back to bring on the old folks. I reached home about three o'clock one gloomy after- noon, and hurried up Euclid Avenue to the place I now called "home." The word had a sweet sound to my ears, and there was a warm, tender place in my heart for the dear old folks who had been so good to me, and as I hurried along I found myself humming softly the tune of "The Old Folks at Home." To my surprise the front of the house had a shut-up look. I thought "mother" and "father" might be out — very likely were down at the dressmaker's and tailor's trying on their new clothes. Going around to a little side door which led directly into "mother's" own little sitting room, I was still more surprised by the appearance of neglect about the garden. There was no sign anywhere of the gardener or housemaids I had left in charge. I had only been gone two weeks, and my indignation began to rise at the advantage taken of my absence to shirk. Pushing the sitting room door open, I stepped in. I had been surprised before, but I was dumfounded now. In one corner sat Mrs. Blanchard, her head drooping sadly, and opposite her sat two strange men with hawk- like faces. As the door opened Mrs. Blanchard looked up quickly, crying out joyfully when she saw me, "My boy I" I hurried to her and kissed her. " What is the matter? What has happened?" I asked "Father — " she sobbed, "father is dead I" -_. "Why did no one write to me?" , 848 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY "They told me you would never come back— that it wouldn't do any good to write, "and sh 3 indicated with her feeble hand the two men. I turned upon them, and rememlpered them as two of the "distinguished" law- yers of the town "What do you mean?" I demanded. "How dare you come here and frighten this poor old lady? What busi- ness have you here? Get out this minute! Get out, I tell you, or I'll pitch you both into the street" They did get out. They got out quickly. And as they van- ished through the door they muttered threats and curses. Once alone with her, I got the whole story from Mrs. Blanchard. No sooner was I out of town than these lawyers came to whisper to the old couple that I would never return. The old man fretted day and night, and being very feeble it only required a few days for the worry to kill him. Then the lawyers brought forth a claim to the property in behalf of a so-called relative. The relative, they said, must not be deprived of his rightful inheritance by Mrs. Blanchard bestowing her fortune on nie. The relationship of the relative in question began and ended in his being the widower of an adopted daughter of Mrs. Blanchard who had died long ago The lawyers smelled fat fees, and egged the "relative" on to claim his "rights." Of course, it could not be denied that the Blanchards had a right to dispose of their own property. That was a small ob- stacle to a lawyer, however. A person or two to say that Mr. and Mrs. Blanchard were insane. And of course if they were insane they could not be expected to dis- pose of their property properly. I was pictured as » OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 349 designing villain who had inveigled the irresponsible old people into giving me their fortune. Under such circumstances there was only one thing to do. A guardian must be placed over them. Mr. Blanchard's death afforded an excellent opportunity to carry out this plan. Mrs. Blanchard was ill. I was away. Every- thing would be working smoothly by the time I returned. It worked very smoothly. My return was merely an interruption. Interruptions, however, are sometimes troublesome. This one was so to the full extent of my power. But what is the use of going into the details of all that followed? It is sufficient to say that I had little money at the time to fight the case, and that there were pitted against me a gang of unscrupulous lawyers, who used the '^relative" as a figurehead. The best people of the town took up my case, but once in, such lawyers never let go as long as there is "booty" insight. I was advised to leave the city. I did so. A week later I received a telegram that Mrs. Blanchard was dead. The property is still recorded in my name, but probably the greater part has been frittered away by the lawyers for costs, and what remains is guarded by them with hawks' eyes. It is not every day in a man's life, nor every man who has a fortune bestowed upon him from mere good will. That, nevertheless, is what nearly happened to me twice in my life. The first time I have just de- scribed. The second happened shortly after that After leaving Mrs Blanchard I filially landed ii] New York. I was working out some inventions at the time, and B50 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY rented an office in a large office buildiugou Broadway, The head janitor, old Pierre, was a Frenchman who had fled from his country during the stormy days of the Commune. He was an intelligent, not to say in- tellectual man, and he and I became great friends. He had no other friends and no relatives in this country. Age and ill health were creeping upon him, and as he weighed nearly 800 pounds I found many opportuni- ties of helping him in little things. Our friendship lasted for two years. By that time I had rny inventions completed, and one morning packed my valise to go to Washington to secure patents. With my railroad ticket in my hand I ran down to bid Pierre good-bye. I found him sick in bed, to my surprise and grief. "Don't go, my boy, don't go," he said. '*I don't believe I shall ever get up again," I laughed at his fears, telling him he had many years of life before him yet, and that he must not give way to a little rheumatism like that. After a few words more I bade him good-bye, saying as I passed through the door, "Cheer up, Pierre, I'll be back soon " At Washington a telegram awaited me. It was from Pierre's lawyer: "Pierre Lambert died this morning You were in his will for $30,000. He died with pen in hand trying to sign the will. Not being signed, the for- tune goes to his relatives in France." I had iiever known before that Pierre had a fortune. But I now understood the meaning of his habit of al- most miserly economy, which was the one fault I had ever found with him. OF. THE UNION STOCKYARDS 351 ' Ry the skin of my teeth, so to speak, I had lost two fortunes. After reading that telegram I had a fit of the blues. Men do have the blues when things go radi- cally wrong with them, and I felt now that fate was against me. I was more than ever convinced of that when I fell sick the day I reached Washington. I was sick for three months. I recovered, however. People always do recover if they don't care whether they do or not. After recovering I was involved in a tangle of red tape concerning the patents. I suppose red tape is an invention of the gentleman with the cloven hoof to test the endurance of unfortunate mankind. At any rate it took so long to unwind this red tape that before it was done with my means were exhausted, and I was ordered out of Washington by my physician if I valued my health. And so ended my hopes of making, a for- tune out of my inventions, at least for the time being. I have noticed since then that it is only the man with money who does not get involved in red tape. Money is the best axle grease I know of. As a matter of fact, all my downs have been caused by a lack of capital. I suppose I might have had plenty of other people's money had I wanted it, but while I have many disagreeable memories of "downs" I have the satisfaction of a conscience which is, upon the whole, very much up. And, if I have anything to say about it, it's up to stay. I have only wronged two beings in my life, and both of these were true friends. One was Flirt, whose devotion I repaid by selling her; the other was a man for whom I was handling about $500. I was down at the time. The board of trade seemed 852 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY to offer a fortune in D. and L. The temptation to riss at a bound was great, and I plunged, and — lost. I have never repaid that money nor has my friend ever asked for it. Those are the only instances of moral turpitude of which I am guilty. A month later I found myself in St. Louis. My next venture to make that inspirer of friendship — money — was to deal in horses. My pet scheme for a month or so was to hold a big combination sale of fine horses, my commission on which would be enough to set me up in business. The first thing necessary was to get a place large enough, convenient enough and well enough known to attract and accommodate a large crowd. There was only one such place in St. Louis, a large horse pavilion at the race tracks, I went to the man- ager of it and secured it for three days. After the dates were fixed he asked me what I wanted it for. The wis- dom of the serpent has never been one of my virtues, and I told him, with all the guilelessness of the dove. Perhaps I even expected him to rejoice in my antici- pated success. He said he thought it a good scheme, and I left him with a cordial handshake Probably I was even pleased that he should have corroborated my opinion and said it was a good scheme. A day or so later I went out to complete the arrange- ments for the use of the pavilion. Imagine my aston- ishment to see posters on every fence within a mile of the place announcing a "Grand Combination Sale of Fine Horses I" The place named was the pavilion I had secured and the date given was just one week earlier than my sale! I concluded then and there that the OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 353 Dearest relative of the born fool is the man born guile- less. I was not to be cast down, however. I went home and schemed a scheme. It was a good scheme. My particular forte is good schemes. I wanted to tell it to somebody. That is a way I have when I have a good scheme. But I put my tongue under lock and key, and therefore came very near succeeding. The scheme was to establish a grand horse bazaar which should b3 the center of the horse interest of the state. It would be the scene not only of one combination sale of fine horses, but of monthly combination sales. There should be annual horse shows to which the elite ot both East and West should come, and there should be monthly shows to which the "400" of the city should come en masse. Best of all, money would be coined there for all concerned. This may sound very Utopian, but I will show you that there never was a more practicable scheme in the world. Within six weeks I had secured a pledge of $100,000 capital ; I had a plan made of the bazaar build- ing and the site for it selected. Within four months the St. Louis Horse Bazaar was a reality, and a grand electric show opened it to the public. In the show ring were some of the finest horses ever sold in thecit}", and in the galleries was the local "400" in evening attire. The Bazaar prospered, and my hopes mounted high. I ought to have known by this time that rising hopes are only the shadows that disappointment casts before. I soon found that harmony was not to accompany pros- perity. Select twelve men from an average citiful,and 854 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY nine times out of ten you will have all the elements necessary to stir up broils. I found it so in this case. Jealousy was the Nemesis of the place. This vice was the principal ingredient in the character of one of the persons connected with the Bazaar. This one, a mere counter-jumper and pill-maker, who had made a small fortune in wielding the mortar and pestle, played the part of the flea in the dog's ear. I daresay he couldn't help himself. He was probably born wath the instincts of the flea. And a man born that way can no more help backbiting than a hornet can help stinging when it is sat upon A flea is not nearly so noble a pest as the hornet, however, for it bites just for the sake of kick- ing up a row, and I humbly ask the hornet's pardon for using him as a comparison. The person in question proved the evil genius of the Bazaar The backbiting he couldn't do wasn't worth doing. In fact he had quite a reputation in that direction. I suppose a flea, if it is particularly active, will get a reputation, and a reputation must be upheld. I shall never say of this person that he did not uphold his reputation. It doesn't make much difference to the flea what sort of a dog he bites. It's just the same to him whether it's a thor- ough I red or a cur. So it was with this person. Whether it was the largest stockholder or the smallest stable boy, he always had time to bite him. Personally fleas are obnoxious to me. I don't like their company. I can't help hating fleas any more than fleas can help bit- ing. So I resigned. I was sorry to resign. But when it comes to a question of resigning or of associating with fleas, I'll resign every time. OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 355 It is my opiDion that if ill luck follows a man in any line of business or walk of life, he should change his line of campaign entirely. And as I also believe that GOING IN FOR SUCCESS. a man should practice what he preaches, that is what I have done. My last departure was to become a jour- nalist. I have become quite a success as a journalist. It is said by my confreres that the scoops I can't make don't exist. I can't truthfully say that journalism is the 856 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY royal road to riches, but there is a cerraiD amount of glory in it. And glory is the best salve I know of for the absence of wealth. In fact there is a good deal of picturesque effect in the combination of glory and an empty pocket. But when I have finished getting glory I shall begin to get riches. I have schemed another scheme for that purpose. I have learned to combine the wisdom of the serpent with the harmlessness of thedove,and therefore I shall nbt say what the scheme is. In carrying out my scheme, however, I shall specially avoid fools,fleas and "distinguished" lawyers, and with this precaution I don't doubt that I shall go up the ladder three rounds at a time. It is a truthful saying that experience is a good teacher, and having been whaled a good many times by that teacher I shall always remember, no matter how safe my footing on the ladder of success may be, to look forward and backward for the man who is al- ways ready to trip up his fellow men when success at- tends their footsteps. I have always thought it a man's duty to give ad- vice. Giving advice is like giving alms, the man who gets it is less grateful to you than to the fellow who tells him to hustle for himself. At the same time advice is the quintessence of a man's experience, and I have always held that if a man has any incense to burn he should do it where the largest number of people could get the aroma of it. If there is any one who doesn't like the smell he can get out of the way. There is room OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 857 enough in this world for everybody, and the man who does not like the ways of other people can get away from them; he doesn't need to wait for them to change their ways. They won't do it. Religion has not made men change their ways, and it's not likely that they'll do it to suit some fellow like themselves. So if any man doesn't want my advice he needn't read it. A book of psalms or a dime novel is just as cheap. For the benefit of those sensible men who can take some one's else word for it that fire burns, I give th'is GOOD ADVICE TO FELLOW MEN. It takes all kinds of folks to make people, and of course they have various notions about things; if they are only honest in them it's all right so far as I am concerned, but I can't bear hypocrisy. I have seen the world and its people in all their phases and stages; they are nearly all alike, and my conclusion is that a man's best friends are his pocket- book and his dog. I would rather have a wag of my dog's tail than the shake of most men's hands. There is a pile of selfishness abroad, so don't expect your friends to be free from it. Don't find fault, it will do no good; it is every man for himself and the Lord for us all, so get into the trench with your shovel and start in with a will. There is no salve for discontent so good as keeping busy. Don't go round whining; people will despise you, and you won't have the consolation of knowing that you don't deserve it. Respect yourself; it is the best way to make other people respect you. H58 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY Don't call upon your friends during business hours; it annoys them, and many small annoyances make cold friends. Friendship is friendship; business is business. Don't stick your nose into other people's business; they know all about it and can take care of it without your help. Don't go to church and pose as a saint when you know that you are an unmitigated hypocrite. Instead, employ that amount of effort to be honest; it's a virtue you can acquire, and it goes a good way. Don't give way to every temptation to be irritable; it only makes matters worse. Be courteous; courtesy is cheap. Take nothing from your friends except civility and you will never be in debt. Don't tell your troubles to your friends, they have enough of their own. "Laugh and the world laughs with you; Weep and you weep alone; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has troubles enough of its own." Keep a still tongue; it's a wise head that has one. Don't tell your secrets to your friends; you can't ex- pect your friends to keep them if you can't. At the same time, don't violate your friend's confidence if he is foolish enough to confide in you. Keep up appearances; appearances go a long way, even if confined to a clean collar and a pair of polished boots. Don't break appointments; if you make one keep it if OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 359 you have to crawl od your hands and knees to do it. Your word should be as good as your bond. Clothes and money won't make a gentleman; honesty and politeness may. Both are cheap; get all you can of them. Don't wear your heart on your sleeve; the world is unsympathetic and will feed its vultures on it if you do. If you have money you will have friends, but when poverty comes in at the door, friends, like love, will fly out of the window. You will often be told to "get money honestly if you can, but get it by hook or by crook," but I tell you that if you get it by crook it will do you no good, and will vanish like magic. Eely upon your own individual exertions; if you won't exert yourself for yourself nobody else will do it for you. Go to bed early, get up early; think, think, think, all the time; plan, plan, plan, all the time; but don't let your left hand know what is in your right hand — it will borrow it if it can. Don't get discouraged; if you meet with repulse at the first breastworks, gather your strength and go at it again. That is the way great battles are won. Some men are born afraid. To such I would say, "Whatever you are afraid of, don't be afraid of a man; take the flesh off him and he will only be a grinning skeleton like yourself." Don't give up your trust in God. At the same time •'keep your guns ready and your powder dry." Take plenty of sleep, but keep one eye open. 860 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY Get in out of the wet; the rain falls on good and bad alike, but it's generally the bad fellow who has the umbrella Don't mistake honesty for stupidity, and don't be stupid if you are honest; you will surely get fleeced if you are. I was taught to live up to the golden rule, "Do unto others as you would have others do unto you," but the silver rule seems to be preferred by the present gener- ation and reads, "Do up others before they get a chance to do up you." It would be very pleasant to live in an atmosphere where you could take a man's hand as his bond, and his word equally as well as his note, but don't be persuaded into thinking you can find it on this earth. Here it is a case of dog eat dog, every man for himself, and the devil take the hindmost. But even while you know that men are unworthy, don't be afraid to do a kind act sometimes; set the world an example once in a while. A helping hand to the man in the ditch may go a good way toward helping him to help himself. What I don't know about the ways of the world isn't worth knowing, but I still meet some men that I would go across the street for. If I have any flowers to give away, I want to give them to my friend before he dies, and not wait to strew them on his grave. Toot your own horn, and keep on tooting it. Nobody else will toot it for you; everybody is too busy tooting his own. OF THE UNION STOCKYARDS 361 But remember that all blowing and no work is a good deal less effective than all work and no blowing. You can't work too much, but there is a limit to blowing. Don't wear broadcloth when you can only alford jean. You may not cut as good a figure, maybe, but it's better to stoop to jeans in order to conquer broad- cloth. Don't do anything else that you can't afford. Ex- travagance leads to debt, and debt is the highroad to dishonesty. Learn to love labor; you won't succeed without it, and liking it will prevent discontent. Besides, it is a good physic as well as a builder of muscle and stamina of character. *'If in this world you wish to win And rise above the common chump, Take off your coat and pitch right in. Don't wait, lay hold, hang on and hump. ''Don't wait until the iron's hot, But make it hot by muscle; Don't wait for wealth your father's got. Take off your coat and hustle." Don't get married until you can support your wife, yourself and one or two other people, beside laying something by for your family to live on after you are dead. That is only just to your family. Justice properly comes before generosity, but don't spend so much time in doing justice that you won't have a little time to spare for generosity. 862 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY "Time will set all things right and justice will light in the right place, though it may seem to be a long time in lighting." Lastly, "Don't you fret! Everywhere the country glows, Every garden has its rose; Weather's fine and mostly sunny — Every hive is full o' honey. Don't you fret I Some day we'll get Every pocket full o' money I" "a STILL TONGUE