before dinner". ‘She stops.in her non: of scraping her precious pigs‘ feet, and gives me 3 look of half astonishment, helf withering scorn. Nellie does not eondeseend to even reply to my suggestion, but I read in her face her opinion of e wenmn who will go "galli- vantin‘” about‘on 3 horse, when theres real work to he done in 3 ~ouoe. So I run un to my room. Get out of my greasy duds," an am into a fresh smelling pongne middge; riding britehes and coat, pull on my brown leather riding boots, 3 k d's tam for my head and my Indian geily b aded gnuntlets (which one of our squnwa~--4we adjoin an Indian resorve—-—syexeia11y made for me? and am running dewnsteirs in short order, en route through.the , . ‘ kitchen, and out through tho'g:rdon and the barnyard to the ‘ corral, where I kn;w Silver Heels awaits me; As I pass through the kitchen, Hollie inquires with eldborate sarcasm: . "Ain't you gain‘ to give me a hand with them pigs feet?” ‘ "I dho uld say I 3in£”’I luugh beck. “Throw ‘em out 1IeZLlie"._ "The best part of the @153” grunts Nellie, ”I’d like‘to see gg doin' anything so foolish and tasteful”. She stops her work long enough to examine me with a critical and condemning eye. Divided skirts are the proper garb- for e respectable wonnn.is tee opinion of Nellie, and I huve never been able to convince her that my coat and britches are just as decent and far more eomfortdbleend certainly better looking than the khaki skirts that have a nasty habit when you are on hers horse of ascending to your knee with every breeze that blows, and‘

a women in the saddle as much as I am fianxtx does not want tolbe