A RANCHMAN'S RECOLLECTIONS 



ments bring an avalanche of applications from agri- 

 cultural schools or lads generally wishing to learn the 

 cow business. I shall not in this sketch elaborate the 

 reason why we must draw from local men who have 

 lived in the atmosphere through boyhood. There is 

 of course a reason. 



There is beginning to be a swing back from the 

 oilfields, the harvest fields and town jobs. Only a 

 few days ago a well-dressed city-complexioned young 

 man came into our office and applied for a "riding 

 job," meaning in the cow outfit, as a fence or pas- 

 ture rider, as opposed to farm work. I said to him : 

 "Pardon me, but you don't look the part. What 

 experience have you had?" Then he told me that 

 he had been hurt by a falling horse about a year 

 ago, and been working "inside" until his leg got 

 well. I told him that we did not pay "inside wages," 

 but he got his keep. "I know that all right," he 

 said, "but when I get through paying board and room 

 rent, buying cold drinks, good clothes and taking the 

 girls to the picture shows, wearing a clean shirt every 

 day, getting a bath and 'dolled up' at the barber shop, 

 and paying for the gas when a friend takes me for a 

 joy ride, me and the world is several bucks apart at 

 the end of the week, and feeling like hell, too; but 

 I can save money, eat good grub, ride good bosses, 

 shave myself, get one of the boys to cut my hair, and 

 take a runnin' jump into the creek or tank from the 

 brandin' pen; look up at the stars as I fall asleep 



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