s. M‘
2*:\4‘t”
W
"off my nut" as indeed. I heard. my xwg son, aged ten, suggest. "liezzma.,

qhst do you take us for? Think we're going to stop our work to do house%'
3‘ 5
33¢;
cleaning?" 3. .«.*»-.\~‘”; '
Km “
W‘

He himself was beexpattered. \‘*7I'tETooc1, and his overale were
a sight to behold. But his red hair stood up like bristles on his head, and.
his wide freckled face beamed. His was the job at the corrals to keep the fire
going.  he was a little New York boy.‘

Luckily for me the braniing period was mercifully short. A day or
perhaps two,‘ 1!3¢:_l:1el;{ea;L:_s,,__.iob was done. Me mm All hands upon

i?’

the place " " : drawn in from parts 1’ the range and the ranch to give a hand.

 

that day, and men from other outfits rode “net also to help. So  $
we had a. houseful to feed. in  c Even with zzmnicz

nut: an extra cook car to accommodate the hands and a competent Chinese cook,
there were alwqys a number of special ‘hen who came to the house with my husband,
and were our guests. Zinnia: They were nice big rough fellows--stockmen,
ntflaxnn  Many of them were university men.

In fact xinnxnattiemsnz more and. more one finds men of edu cation among the

cattlemen.  Someone once referred to it as "The sport
of Kings".  xmnm And. theres something to that, though
I woulc1'nt call it a. sport. I 

 $iiZ{EHI§ 

As I have said. time légiad accustimed. me to the life, It had adjusted
my point of view. Then too ixiuflzx a streak of loyalty in me kept me passionately
reassuring myself that this was the life. I loved it . I told. myself, even if
I did. go back to New York----it would only be for a. visit -—pei‘hB._'pB. to get some
pretty clothes and see friends--or things like that; but I was spoiled for life in
a city. I'd never be able again to get along without my hills, my horses,
the free and easy life of the ranch. Then too we were xxnlx of some importance

in the ranching country, and I was but a drop in the bucket in the vast ocean