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A Philosophic Frontiersman.

The fact that Cincinnati, during the Dramatic Festival, is likely to be the home of a large theatrical colony, recalls an incident in connection with the name of "Buffalo Bill" (Hon. W. F. Cody) that may not be without interest. As is generally known, he is now a man of large wealth. Prudent investment, the establishing of a cattle ranch in Nebraska, his books and his popularity, have enabled him to accumulate more of the world's goods that usually fall to the lot of an every-day actor, and the old scout illustrates in his career the success that attaches to the well-directed effort. He is not a man, however, without social faults, and if Dr. Howard Crosby, or any, other self-appointed commissioner upon the conscience of his fellow-beings was to sit in judgment, he would receive less mercy than that accorded by Sitting Bull.

Passing through Cincinnati he met a pleasant-faced lad - a bootblack. Perhaps there was something about the boy that reminded "Buffalo Bill" of his own early struggles in life. At any rate, before parting with him, he insured place, position and an opportunity that made the lad's life a success.

It was while his boots were in process of blacking that he met Dr. Carver, who was then temporarily a guest at the Burnet House. The two had been [word?] hunters on the plains. Carver suggested [word?] to another old-timer, a Western man to whom both were known.

They went, taking a number of friends on the way. There was a glass of whiskey or two distributed, an interchange of reminiscence, and a game of cards. The Western friend had lost his arm in an Indian fight, and naturally, his part of the play was made with one hand. The stakes at first were trifling; but as the men progressed, the sum increased. The amount ran from five to ten dollars, then to fifty, one hundred, five hundred; and when the party separated at an early hour in the morning, twenty-three thousand dollars had changed hands, and a sorrier-looking party of individuals, whose nerves were ordinarily firm on the trigger, never went into their blankets. Cody is a good deal of a philosopher, and as he tucked himself in bed, he called across the room to Carver: "Doc, we've all been wiped; but great Scott! if wild John could do that with one arm, what would he have done with two?"

A Philosophic Frontiersman.

The fact that Cincinnati, during the Dramatic Festival, is likely to be the home of a large theatrical colony, recalls an incident in connection with the name of "Buffalo Bill" (Hon. W. F. Cody) that may not be without interest. As is generally known, he is now a man of large wealth. Prudent investment, the establishing of a cattle ranch in Nebraksa, his books and his popularity, have enabled him to accumulate more of the world's goods that usually fall to the lot of an every-day actor, and the old scout illustrates in his career the success that attaches to well-directed effort. He is not a man, however, without social faults, and if Dr. Howard Crosby, or any, other self appointed commissioner upon the conscience of his fellow-beings was to sit in judgement, he would recieve less mercy than that accorded by Sitting Bull.

Passing through Cincinnati he met a pleasant-faced lad - a bootblack. Perhaps there was something about the boy that reminded "Buffalo Bill" of his owu early struggles in life. At any rate, before parting with him, he insured place, position and an opportunity that made the lad's life a success.

It was while his boots were in process of blacking that he met Dr. Carver, who was then temporarily a guest at the Burnet House. The two had been [word?] hunters on the plains. Carver suggested [word?] to another old-timer, a Western man to whom both were known.

They went, taking a number of friends on the way. There was a glass of whisky or two distributed, an interchange of reminiscence, and a game of cards. The Western friend had lost his arm in an Indian fight, and naturally his part of the play was made with one hand. The stakes at first were trifling; but as the men progressed, the sum increased. The amount ran from five to ten dollars, then to fifty, one hundred, five hundred; and when the party separated at an early hour in the morning, twenty-three thousand dollars had changed hands, and a sorrier-looking party of individuals, whose nerves were ordinarily firm on the trigger, never went into their blankets. Cody is a good deal of a philosopher, and as he tucked himself in bed, he called across the room to Carver: "Doc, we've all been wiped; but great Scott! if wild John could do that with one arm, what would he have done with two?"