A RANCHMAN'S RECOLLECTIONS 



Mage got up from a "hot roll," whereon he had 

 been resting, and stretched himself, and when Mage 

 stretches it means six feet five inches of all cowman 

 grinding his bones. 



"Fellers," he said, "as far as thet's consarn, I've 

 alius noticed thet there's nothin' like a stampede in 

 the skies to rope a cow camp down into a sort of 

 revival meetin', an' I don't recall hearin' anything 

 stronger than 'doggone' or 'dad gum,' come up dur- 

 ing the millin' of a bad storm, 'cept onct, an' thet 

 was the time we lost a herd on the Jane Wilson 

 League." 



Everyone settled down for a story. Few men in 

 west Texas have so much material or can put per- 

 sonal reminiscence into so vivid and charming a form 

 as Mage. The writer can only attempt vaguely to 

 convey the theme; the sidelights of personality, in- 

 tensity and humor, deep humanity and unconscious 

 dramatic force can only be had when one hears Mage 

 tell his own stories. 



"As far as thet's consarn," he went on, "I've been 

 thinkin' about it ever since this here storm com- 

 menced to round. I have never seed two days more 

 ahke, an' it was jest about this time o' year. We 

 had a steer herd— threes and fours — takin' to Sey- 

 mour to ship to K. C, about a thousin', all wild as a 

 snake, an' some rank outlaws among 'em, too. I was 

 only a kid then— the 'S. M. S. Kid' they called me, but 

 I could ride some, and they took me along. But the 



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