shoulder in a twinkling and went bounding 
toward the game, his daughter cantering 
gaily after him. Our driver touched his 
horses, and our arms were all in prime order. 
The four buffaloes and two calves trotted 
carelessly along until we were within fifty 
yards of them, when we saw Mr. E. turn 
his horse and ride swiftly back towards us, 
with his hat in his hand. The buffaloes 
were, indeed, four black senes and txco pigs! 
All the gentlemen present had hunted buffa 
loes hitherto, hut the atmosphere here is 
The profits for five years are:—One thou¬ 
sand cows at twelve dollars each, $12,000; 
keeping, etc., $30,000; interest on money, 
$10,000; making a grand total of $53,000. 
Increase 7,000, making allowance for losses,— 
total number at end of five years 8,000. 
Average weight eight hundred pounds,— 
value, two and a half cents per pound, or 
twenty dollars per head; total, $100,000; 
clear profit, $108,000. Cheyenne calves bring 
twenty-five dollars in St. Louis for veal. 
Cattle are most frequently bought in August, 
SEPTEMBER. 
trcatrffnul 
BY A. A. HOPKINS. 
September dreams her life away,— 
September, fondling of the year. 
Who, born on some mid-summer day 
Looks upward through an atmosphere 
Of golden glory sweet and clear, 
And smiles content when sunbeams play, 
Or wears a radiance half divine 
When through the night the star-gleams shine! 
THE PREPARATORY WORK 
ON THE WAY. 
If “ the child is father to the man," the 
child's education is of paramount importance. 
To whom it is entrusted is a vital matter. In 
the midst, therefore, of all our upbuilding of 
collegiate institutions, and our endowments 
of universities, we should not lose sight of 
our academics and common schools, where 
is formed that educational character which 
one rarely if ever wholly outgrows. The 
rather should we bestow greater attention 
upon them; for good preparatory schools 
are at present our greatest need. 
In the University Convocation to which 
we not long since referred, one of the most 
suggestive papers was that read by Dr. Al- 
den, President of the New York State Nor¬ 
mal School at. Albany, upon this specific 
subject. And in that paper one of the truest 
remarks was to the effect that the best teach¬ 
ers should be assigned to preparatory schools. 
This remark deserves thoughtful considera¬ 
tion. It. was based upon the underlying 
principle of all sound character, which de¬ 
mands that t he foundation shall be carefully 
prepared. Its truth conceded, a reform must 
be inaugurated in the general management 
of preparatory schools; for as they arc now 
managed by the trustees thereof there is lit¬ 
tle hope that the best teachers can be kept in 
them. 
As a rule, teachers are dealt, with parsi¬ 
moniously. “ Teaching is easy work,’’ say 
the hard-fisted toilers, “and does not de¬ 
serve much remuneration.” As the very 
best educators will not give their efforts and 
hardly-won experience for a mere song, it 
follows that, they are too rarely found in 
academies and high schools. In their stead 
are young, quite inefficient instructors, who 
have taken to teaching only as a make-shift, 
and who know little of their duty and care 
less. Under the tuition of such our young 
men and women are fitted for the college 
arena, or the broader and nobler battle-field 
of active practical life. Is it safe to presume 
that I bey are always well fitted ? 
The preparatory work cannot be per¬ 
formed its it. should be until our preparatory 
schools are presided over by perfectly com¬ 
petent educators. Such educators cannot 
be permanently secured to them by the illib¬ 
eral management, which at present so widely 
obtains. Let academies be so endowed as 
to guarantee proper compensation to the 
teachers employed therein and the next gen¬ 
eration will prove the investment wise. As 
Dr. Alden well said, — “The conditions of 
good education exist in the men who are 
said to be connected with the institutions but 
who in reality constitute them." Common 
sense demands, then, that these men he 
proper men in every respect; and it is our 
duty as guardians of youth to see that they 
are such. 
Et.i^worth, Kansas. 
Ellsworth, now two yearn old, has a pop¬ 
ulation of four or five hundred inhabitants. 
The dwellings and shops are mostly of wood, 
one story in height, and w ith no attempt at 
architecture. The hotel, where w r e are stop- 
Tho sky above more distant seems; 
A brooding Nllenen (tils the space, - 
A slleneo listening to t he stream* 
An If to catch some tender trace 
Of melodies that once did grace 
The summer's concord, sweet with dreams, 
Or waiting placidly to hear 
An answer to the Summer's prayer! 
The noon-days touch with holy culm 
Our heart's disquiet of unrest. 
And like some sweet nnnotnttng balm 
Bring peace to every painful breast; 
And every soul is sweetly blest 
As by some, hopeful, soothing psalm; 
And so the noon-days fade, at length, 
Exhaling a delightful strength. 
The crickets sing at eventide 
Their crooning song so sweet and low, 
The same the hearthstone old beside 
They sang In evenings long ago. 
The meok-faeeil moon with motion slow 
Goes up her path of glory wide; 
And so through all the evenings long 
Sleep floats on softest wings of song. 
September dreams tier life away, 
September, fondling of the year,— 
In silent dells where shadows play. 
On mountain peaks kissed by the clear 
Itteh glory of the atmosphere. 
Iler life exhales from day to day. 
And wo who watch her dreaming die 
Will mourn her in October's sigh ! 
fonts for 
A CHILD’S LEADING. 
BY FAITH HAVEN, 
CHAPTER I. 
“ Elsie, child! just tic on your bonnet 
and run over to old Mrs. Willis’s. Tell 
her I want her to be sure and come to my 
quiltin’ next week Tuesday, and to have 
John come to supper. If you have a mind 
to you can lake along some of those June 
roses and Sweet Williams to Polly Brown, 
who, the land knows, don’t see much beside 
doctors’ medicine. I’m sometimes afeard 
never will. If any of’cm’s been to the Post- 
Office get our ‘Evangelical Christian.’ Now 
don’t forget; and run right along before the 
sun gets scorching;” and Mrs. Makvyn 
went back into the kitchen to take the last 
loaf of the Saturday’s baking from the oven, 
which she declared was the “ beautifulest 
brown,” while Elsie put away the tiny 
squares of calico she was trying in vain 
to make match, tied the white sun-bonnet 
under her chin, and was soon on her w r ay, 
not forgetting the June roses and Sweet 
Williams for poor Polly Brown. 
It. was a pleasant walk down across the 
pasture and through a bit. of woods to save 
a quarter of a mile, then out on the dry 
sandy road again. She had been the same 
road many times before, on errands for her 
grandmother, and knew where the hand¬ 
somest robin in the whole woods built his 
nest, and she thought how when she came 
back she would stop and see if the birds 
were feathered out yet. She had to cross a 
little, foot bridge, and when she heard the 
low murmur of the water upon the pebble 
bottom, and saw how still and lovely every¬ 
thing was there in the woods, she thought of 
a psalm she had heard her grandfather read 
so often, two lines of which she remembered. 
She repeated them softly to herself,—“ He 
maketh me to lie down in green pastures, 
lie leadeth me beside the still waters,” and 
thought how sweet must he Goo’s love if it 
was at, all like that. For a moment she 
watched the little fish gliding out and in 
from under the sweet cresses that grew' on 
the water’s edge, and looking steadily saw 
her owu face mirrored on the clear surface; 
then the sight of the flowers reminded her of 
her grandmother's injunction, and she start¬ 
ed on her way. 
When Elsie reached the kitchen door 
and heard the cheery voice of Mrs. Willis 
say “Come in!—come in, child!” she did 
not know what it, was that made her so hap¬ 
py—so thankful. She sooii found herself 
sitting in the large, airy kitchen, where 
Chloe, the maid of all work, was putting a 
pile of pans through the scalding process 
with astonishing rapidity. 
“ I was just tollin' John, this very morn¬ 
ing,’ said old Mrs. Willis, from behind the 
pantry door, “ that I should feel real slight¬ 
ed if your grandma didn’t invite me to her 
quiltin’, bein’ as how we’d always lived next- 
door neighbors, our farms jined, and our 
children had been to school together and 
played together ever since they were no 
bigger than you arc now. My John used 
to go with Nellie Marvyn, that used to 
be, your mo, I mean, Elbie. You’ve got 
her eyes; poor thing, she died afore you can 
remember, and it’s a merciful Providence 
that you’ve got a grandfather. And there 
was Dick, too, as handsome a fellow as ever 
I sot eyes on. Proud, he was, with the old 
Connecticut blood in him. Your uncle, that 
STJG A.K - L.OA.1C BOCK - - RIO JANEIIIO 
r and such that to he deceived is the easiest, tiling chasi 
lered, imaginable. Wc can see telegraph poles five 
Our miles away with perfect clearness. An or- Dr 
vated dinary weed, breaking the straight outline man, 
keep of the horizon, might well be taken for a tree, five i 
esert. We found plums growing wild in abmv cows 
d the dance. They were hardly ripe, blit very one li 
tel is beautiftil to look at, being nearly white, with being 
a deep rose-blush over one side, and banging make 
i very in short-stemmed clusters to the boughs, in tin 
ising, Currants anil gooseberries also abounded, per p 
iits of After reaching the fort, and regaling our- of wi 
i part selves with lemon ices, we drove rapidly Milk 
gh to hack over a most perfect road. After tea we than 
it not were joined by Major Taylor of the United pasta 
East- States Army, and had a w r alk over the plains nutrii 
these back of the town. We found very beautiful and t 
ed to flowers, and, at frequent intervals, mounds twen 
with °f small bits of quartz, which had been not y 
Their thrown up by ants whicli inhabit them in they 
gets great quantities. The soil here is from three acres 
0 f a to eight feet deep, and marvelously fertile, the p 
tbors Where the soil is disturbed by a wagon 
wheel passing over it, verbenas and sun- A ] 
of A° wers llt once spring up. A blossom marks dred 
>f mv ever y ste P- At this Mr. 8. had another stoiy raisir 
O gee to tell: to on 
r cst I “ Riding tip tbo railroad near here one sells 
( “ t |’ day ; a gentleman on hoard says :—•* Can you A 1 
miti'’ mc this plant is, sir?’ ‘That, here. 
, " sir,’ with an air of importance, ‘is the great you 
1 and ft°adumJSidum VulgarisKansiensis.' ‘Won’t thing 
■it. in y° u sa .V that over, stranger?’ he asked earn- try b 
estly. I repeated it, and he caught the name are s 
so as to remember it. I don’t know whether be m 
ur a or not he ever found out that the great plant don’t 
irker. wag K i m ply a sunflower.” the n 
acti , Stock Raising—Fact's am! Figures. and l 
back, Cattle are bought here at these rates: but h 
lot. c Yearlings, six dollars; two-year-olds, nine 
>ne at dollars. cows , twelve dollars. Texan cattle, 
,e 11 ‘ by the herd, sell for about seven dollars per 
ienc « head. Cost of 1,000 head is, therefore, $7,000; 
c rove cogt jjggpjng one y ear) $1^00 ; two bun- gout] 
' 1 clred tons of hay, at three dollars and a half entra 
■ per ton, seven hundred dollars; interest on high 
* c money, eight hundred dollars, — making a portr 
ai < sS total of $10,100. Increase of cattle is thirty- p Clu i 
smen t j ltce p Gr cen t„, making number of cattle at feet 
. al,t * ’ end of the year, 1,333 —value, at, fourteen the i 
dollars per head, $18,603, making clear profit the < 
of $8,503. 
The only cost of keeping is herding. Grass pile 
lct . m costs nothing. If cut. and put up, it costs This 
’ 10 about three dollars per ton. Three Mexicans three 
tUl ' will tend a herd of a thousand. They work perse 
owet for twenty-five dollars a month, and furn- The 
ished with a tent, “ grub ” and a horse apiece, ish s; 
01 118 fifty or sixty miles south of hero at the cross- their 
•re the ing of the Arkansas. It is not unfrequent cone 
s ,ltt * for dealers to double their money by pur- flag , 
NEW SCHOOLS FOR WOMEN. 
The title of a paper read by Miss Cathe¬ 
rine E. Beecher before the National Edu¬ 
cational Convention recently assembled in 
Trenton was “ Something for women better 
than the Ballot." It proposed a new plan 
of education for women, by which they 
should be trained by their own sex for the 
practical duties of the family, and to some 
business that will secure to them an inde¬ 
pendent home and income, in case they 
should not be married. 
Miss Beechf.u would have institutions 
endowed by rich ladies, in which this train¬ 
ing may be done, and in these she would 
have the most highly accomplished ladies 
for educators. We are told that an associar 
Won has already been formed in New York 
to start these institutions, and one is to be 
commenced soon, on a small scale—to lie 
enlarged as circumstances warrant. It is to 
embrace a literary department, a domestic 
department, a health department, a normal 
department, especially to teach the duties of 
a teacher, a fine arts department and an in¬ 
dustrial department, the c*bief object of 
which will be to train women to out-door 
avocations suitable to their sex. 
It Miss Beecher’s philanthropic plan can 
be made practical,— and we do not see why 
it cannot,—a much needed kind of educa¬ 
tion will be placed within the reach of every 
young woman in the land. That this educa¬ 
tion will be “ better for women than the bal¬ 
lot” we do not pretend to say, — we are not 
now arguing for or against Woman Suffrage; 
but we do know that it is imperatively de¬ 
manded. We have our Business Universities 
for young men, doing excellently in fitting 
them for whatever is to be their life-work, 
why not have institutions for young women, 
as well, which shall fit them also for practi¬ 
cal duties? Such culture as the institution 
above alluded to would afford, if it could 
only become general, would result in a won¬ 
derful social reform, benefiting in its results 
not only the women so broadly cultured, but 
the whole race, and working out “ Progress 
anil Improvement” greatly to he desired in 
our domestic economy. 
SUGAR-LOAF ROCK, 
