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JOHNNIE BAKER--THE YOUNG MARKSMAN.
Johnnie Baker was born at O'Fallon's Bluffs, on the banks of the South Platte River, in Western Nebraska, in the year 1870. His father is the well-known "Old Lew Baker, the ranchman," and was the owner of Lew Baker's O'Fallon's Bluff Ranch, in itsday an important landmark. This place was one of the most noted on the great overland trial--the scenes, incidents, Indian attacks, etc., belonging to exhaustive pages in the early history of that, in old times, exposed and dangerous section. Here Johnnie's babyhood was passed in unconscious proximity to dangers seldom courted by the most sturdy, and his first "bug-a-boo" was not of the material imagining, but an existing fact, continually threatening in the shape of the heartless, savage Sioux. Cradled amid such pioneer surroundings, and handled on the knees of all the most celebrated frontiersman, the genuine old buckskin trappers--the first frontier invaders--his childhood witnessed the declining flories of the buffalo hunter's paradise (it being the heart of their domain), and the advent of his superior, "the long horn of Texas," and his necessary companion, "the Cow-boy."
The appearance of these brave, generous, self-sacrificing rough riders of the plain, literally living in the saddle, enduring exposure, hunger,risk of health and life as a duty to the employer, gave him his first communion with society beyond the sod cabin threshold, and impressed his mind, as well as directed his aspirations, to an emulation of the manly qualities necessary to be ranked a true American Cow-boy.
When the Pony Express, the Stage Coach, and the wagon-trains were supplanted by the steam horse, Baker's station became useless, and "Old Lew" removed bag and baggage to North Platte, a little town of magical railroad growth. Here he built a fine house, which became the headquarters of the "old-timers," and many a tenderfoot can remember the thrilling incidents related of "life on the trail"--a life that now belongs alone to history and to romance--while "Old Lew" dispensed hospitality like a prince. But the ways of "city life," a too big heart, of which the "shiftless, genial affinities" and rounder took due advantage, caused his former prosperity to be a remembrance only, and Johnnie set to work manfully for one of his age, to lend a helping hand. Perfectly at home in the saddle, he was never content unless with some cow-boy outfit, or at MR. CODY'S (whose homestead, extensive horse and cattle ranches, are near), where his active spirit found congenial associations, until he became recognized as "BUFFALO BILL'S boy." In the winter months he occasionally went to school, and being an apt scholar, has a fair education. MR. CODY, on organizing his distinctly American exhibition, could not leave little Johnnie out. He can be seen every day with the Wild West, mounted on his fiery little mustang, riding, roping, shooting--repeating on the mimic scene his own experiences, and the boyhood life of his elder, more famed associates.
Through perseverance and his aptness for learning he has become a most valuable assistant to Colonel CODY, so much so that he is now Arenic Director, looking after all matters pertaining to the Exhibition, and has shown himself to be thoroughly familiar in the art of conducting the entire entertainment without an interruption. He is an admirable stage manager, and it is to him that the care of the large army of men is assigned.
JOHNNIE BAKER AND HIS WINCHESTER.
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WESTERN BOYS AND GIRLS IN VIRGINIA REEL ON HORSEBACK.
When the young blood of the frontiers of Virginia, Kentucky and Maryland swept like a human wave into the new territories of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, etc., the dug-out, the tent and the cabin were the mansions of the sturdy pioneers. Full of life and vigor, the emigrants found their great recreation in the sports and pastimes connected with the instruments essential to their new environments, such as the rifle, the shooting contest, turkey meets, and the horse for transportation, husbandry, and at times for revelry. The fact that in the aforesaid residences on the old frontier there were few spacious ball-rooms, and that the contracted floors on the pioneer log-cabin "offered hardly room enough to swing a cat," no doubt inspired the idea of the outdoor dance, which is now represented in Buffalo Bill's Wild West by a Virginia Rell on Horseback. From the Heights of classic Olympus, Terpischore may well gaze in wild-eyed wonder at a measure wildly new to her engagement list--a lively and most picturesque dance, in which gallant cowboys, graceful Western girls and smart bronchos participate. "Places, all !" shouts the leader, and to the music of the Cowboy band, the air of the lively old-fashioned Virginia Reel, the squares are formed and away go the riders and horses in all the rollicking and intricate figures of that popular dance, the long hair and bright curls of the riders streaming on the breeze, and the alert hoofs of the spirited broncos keeping perfect time to the popular tune. "After all the ball is over" the lightest-footed praise belle among the spectators settles back and exclaims: "Well, did you ever [?] Why polo isn't in it," and the boys and girls adjourn for refreshments and gossip into the little cabin, which were once landmarks for what are now farm mansions and town-sites.
WHEN THE SCHOONERS ROLLED OUT OF ST. JOE.
From the Denver Post.
[?] exciting old [?] are but memories now,
When the pop of the bull[?]'s whip
Sharply rang [?] the Wild West had scarce for the prow
Of Progression's great oncoming ship,
And but few now remain of that dust-begrimed host
Who had nerve in the dim long ago
To fight and if need [?] to die at their post
When the schooners rolled out of St. Joe.
In the dust of the valley great serpentine trains
Rolled from civilization's last gate.
And slowly [?] onward toward the great plains
Where the [?] men were lying in wait.
But every [?] whacker trudged bravely along,
Feeling never a fear of the foe--
Their heavy whips cracked to the voicings of song
As the schooners rolled out of St. Joe.
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