353

Post

aug 26.

Yes, as Major Burke would put it, the
Wild West Show is a "world-beater." Only
a true child of Barnum - a Barnumite minus
the element of humbug - would ever have
conceived that combination of cowboys and
Indians and fearless rough riders of the
earth, from the Cossack of the Don to the
the wild galloper of Tartary, and from the
English fox-hunter to the fierce Arab of
the desert. But come what may -- Custer
massacres or anything else -- the chief
attraction at the Wild West arena is always
that remarkable citizen of the world,
Colonel W. F. Cody. When this
writer first saw with boyish eyes
"Bison William" twenty years ago, knocking
about New England with a wretched
border play in the company of Texas Jack
and Wild Bill, Cody was even then as
handsome a man as could be found in the
states. But he was a frontiersman despite
his chivalric bearing, and it some respects
a rough one. Fourteen years later Colonel
Cody turned up in London a polished
traveler and gentleman, with a social bearing
that would grace any court in Europe
and a bank account of $500,000. In this
annus mirabilis of the world's fair, erect,
long-haired and graceful, his splendid outdoor
life stamped on every limb and
lineament, young in spite of the fifty-seven
years which ought to handicap him
but do not, Colonel Cody serves not only as
an amusement caterer on a colossal scale,
combining education and recreation in his
novel and ingenuis programme, but also
serves to illustrate in his own person vividly
a species of simon-pure western manhood
to which Chicago owes more than to
eastern culture or eastern capital. The
visitor to the Columbian Exposition who
fails to see Colonel Cody on the bloodless
sands of his own peculiar arena will neglect
a very important adjunct of the fair.

Post

aug 26

Yes, as Major Burke would put it, the
Wild West Show is a "world-beater." Only
a true child of Barnum - a Barnumite minus
the element of humbug - would ever have
conceived that combination of cowboys and
Indians and fearless rough riders of the
earth, from the Cossack of the Don to the
the wild galloper of Tartary, and from the
English fox-hunter to the fierce Arab of
the desert. But come what may -- Custer
massacres or anything else -- the chief
attraction at the Wild West arena is always
that remarkable citizen of the world,
Colonel W. F. Cody. When this
writer first saw with boyish eyes
"Bison William" twenty years ago, knocking
about New England with a wretched
border play in the company of Texas Jack
and Wild Bill, Cody was even then as
handsome a man as could be found in the
states. But he was a frontiersman despite
his chivalric bearing, and it some respects
a rough one. Fourteen years later Colonel
Cody turned up in London a polished
traveler and gentleman, with a social bearing
that would grace any court in Europe
and a bank account of $500,000. In this
annus mirabilis of the world's fair, erect,
long-haired and graceful, his splendid outdoor
life stamped on every limb and
lineament, young in spite of the fifty-seven
years which ought to handicap him
but do not, Colonel Cody serves not only as
an amusement caterer on a colossal scale,
combining education and recreation in his
novel and ingenuis programme, but also
serves to illustrate in his own person vividly
a species of simon-pure western manhood
to which Chicago owes more than to
eastern culture or eastern capital. The
visitor to the Columbian Exposition who
fails to see Colonel Cody on the bloodless
sands of his own peculiar arena will neglect
a very important adjunct of the fair.