l6 now TO EDUCATE HORSES. 



do was to let my pony know which particular animal 

 was wanted; after it he would go, and separate it from 

 the others without having to be directed by the reins. 

 Once, I remember, where the road led over a bridge 

 across the river, one of the steers bolted out of the 

 road and down the bank. After him, without a word 

 from me, went my pony and into the river. '' Look 

 out for quicksands!" shouted my frightened father 

 from the bridge. I was then in deep water, my pony 

 swimming close up to the steer and biting at him to 

 hurry him through the water. We safely emerged on 

 the other side, though somewhat moistened. At this 

 time I became quite an expert butcher. In the winter, 

 while on my pony hunting wild cattle, I would shoot 

 one, dress it and cover the quarters with snow, which 

 would absorb all the blood, leaving the carcass in 

 fine shape for takitig away when the team arrived. 



Thus I enjoyed two years of Western life with my 

 pony and my Newfoundland dog Trusty. At that 

 time no railroad was in operation, and I never shall 

 forget the long stage-ride of one day and night from 

 Boone to Des Moines, passing only two houses or huts. 

 At one of them, however — a sod hut belonging to an 

 Irishman, twenty miles from any other habitation — I 

 had the best dinner, I think, I have ever eaten, consist- 

 ing principally of pork steaks, while pigs and goats 

 were running in and out of the house, apparently as 

 much at home as the two-legged occupants. 



When my father was in the sewing-machine busi- 

 ness I became an expert operator, and would teach 

 the young ladies to run one, after my father had ef- 

 fected a sale. Thus I was handy and useful at the 

 same time, and I think the ladies rather liked me for 

 a teacher. We were then living in West Townsend, 

 with my new mother, and for the first time I had an 



