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which will attract foreigners when they are tired of staring at the Italian gentleness of faulties outlines and evidences of superb culture. They will bring up at the Cody show every time and they will find Americans real Americans, there--if not in the audience, in the performance.

How a heroic statue of Buffalo Bill, with his magnificent physique, picturesque accounterments and scout impetuosity, would, have stood out among the dulcet elegances of foreign art! Clad in fringed deer skins-- than which not Grecian drapery is more genuinely graceful and artistic--with the high boots which typify hardhip and the country's savage estate, his inseparable gun, fiery horse and incomparable herent pose!

Cody is one of the most imposing mr in appearance that America ever grew in her kindly atmosphere. In his earlier days a hint of the border desperado lurked in his blazing eyes and the poetic fierceness of his mien and coloring. Now it is all subdued into pleasantness and he is the kindliest most benign gentleman, as simple as a village priest and learned as a savant of Chartreuse. I have just left him in his beaded regalia (which is not dress, but rest for him) and I do not think I ever spent a more delightful hour. His history, teeming with romance, is familiar to everybody in two continents, but his social personality is known to a favored few, in which treasured category I herewith enroll myself. All the gray that has been thrust into his whirlwin life has centered itself in the edges of his beautiful hair. For the rest he is ruddy, straight as the sturdiest buck in is troupe and graceful as an eagle. He talks in the quaint mountaineer language which robs English of all its proper crudities. It is a lazy, melodious sort of drawl tremendously fascinating and unapproachable exept by a thoroughbred trapper, a cool soldier and American westerner.

His own tent at the show is a dream of improvised luxury. There are couches of tempting comfort and such a bewildering plethora of Indian ornament that further entertainment scarcely seems called for but he thinks of a thousand charming favors and offers them in such an every-day simple manner that one scarcely appreciates that there have been any effort made in courtesy. Mr. Cody is perfectly natural. He has acquired no alien airs or manner in his marvelous travels and successes, has never lost the atmosphere of the boundless plains, the inspiration of discovery and attempt, nor the honest bravery of a lonely scout for nothing much more than a hardy sustenance and exciting adventure.

He has gathered about him a host of clever men and all tongues are spoken under the white tents of the "Wild West Show."

First I was presented to Rain-in-the-Face, a mild inoffensive old warrior, who looked as if he had never done anything more reprehensible than eat oatmeal all his active life. They all wanted to shake wi8th me and seized my hand in a friendly way smile large, oleaginous smiles at me and looked straight into my eyes in rahter an informal but reassuring manner. Curly, the only survivor of the unhappy Custer massacre, accompanies Mr. Rain-in-the-Face and a pleasant group of white men headed by Wickham join the party in Sitting Bull's cabin. Outside suddenly here raises a fearful din, stange animal yelps

but what Americans might have enjoyed showing the congress of nations would be types of our own idolized heroes, the like of our own idolized heroes, the like of which oruanient no other history. Our warriors, pioneers, savages and broad acres. I - it is I, because I am American from the crown of my head to the ground my feet caress - I'd have reveled in a colossal reproduction of the adored heroes inspiring American boys of the last century to courageous undertaking, press of civilaztion and the audacious vehemence of rightful war. Now, about the only art-remembrance of the march of stupendous American improvement is epitomized inone man's magnificent puma.

A kindly old lady then take sme into an adjoining canvas, where she has piles of unfinished costumes and sewing machines that look pretty busy. She is the mother of the entire camp and has been with COdy for fifteen years. The Russian prince, Ivan Makharadze Richter, a tremendously swell vaquero and an expert bolas wielder are in turn presented to me, and then the infinitely more interesting groups of Indians lounging about the tents close to the fires, One charming characteristic of the fiery untamed mouarch of the plains is his prodigious talent for resting. Indians can rest more to the square inch than any class of royalty I ever ran across. The show is simply tremendours. I can see how strangers to such brilliant spectacular nature might rave over it. I was born and raised whered

which will attract foreigners when they are tired of staring at the Italian gentleness of faulties outlines and evidences of superb culture. They will bring up at the Cody show every time and they will find Americans real Americans, there--if not in the audience, in the performance.

How a heroic statue of Buffalo Bill, with his magnificent physique, picturesque accounterments and scout impetuosity, would, have stood out among the dulcet elegances of foreign art! Clad in fringed deer skins-- than which not Grecian drapery is more genuinely graceful and artistic--with the high boots which typify hardhip and the country's savage estate, his inseparable gun, fiery horse and incomparable herent pose!

Cody is one of the most imposing mr in appearance that America ever grew in her kindly atmosphere. In his earlier days a hint of the border desperado lurked in his blazing eyes and the poetic fierceness of his mien and coloring. Now it is all subdued into pleasantness and he is the kindliest most benign gentleman, as simple as a village priest and learned as a savant of Chartreuse. I have just left him in his beaded regalia (which is not dress, but rest for him) and I do not think I ever spent a more delightful hour. His history, teeming with romance, is familiar to everybody in two continents, but his social personality is known to a favored few, in which treasured category I herewith enroll myself. All the gray that has been thrust into his whirlwin life has centered itself in the edges of his beautiful hair. For the rest he is ruddy, straight as the sturdiest buck in is troupe and graceful as an eagle. He talks in the quaint mountaineer language which robs English of all its proper crudities. It is a lazy, melodious sort of drawl tremendously fascinating and unapproachable exept by a thoroughbred trapper, a cool soldier and American westerner.

His own tent at the show is a dream of improvised luxury. There are couches of tempting comfort and such a bewildering plethora of Indian ornament that further entertainment scarcely seems called for but he thinks of a thousand charming favors and offers them in such an every-day simple manner that one scarcely appreciates that there have been any effort made in courtesy. Mr. Cody is perfectly natural. He has acquired no alien airs or manner in his marvelous travels and successes, has never lost the atmosphere of the boundless plains, the inspiration of discovery and attempt, nor the honest bravery of a lonely scout for nothing much more than a hardy sustenance and exciting adventure.

He has gathered about him a host of clever men and all tongues are spoken under the white tents of the "Wild West Show."

First I was presented to Rain-in-the-Face, a mild inoffensive old warrior, who looked as if he had never done anything more reprehensible than eat oatmeal all his active life. They all wanted to shake wi8th me and seized my hand in a friendly way smile large, oleaginous smiles at me and looked straight into my eyes in rahter an informal but reassuring manner. Curly, the only survivor of the unhappy Custer massacre, accompanies Mr. Rain-in-the-Face and a pleasant group of white men headed by Wickham join the party in Sitting Bull's cabin. Outside suddenly here raises a fearful din, stange animal yelps