return the way he came, unless he wished to see strange sights.
This message broolied no fencing; and he rode away that night, leaving his protest with some district judge.
An agent whom he afterwards sent out was shot.
“It is a good thing,” says my friend, “ to have a fine cattle-run, but a man who owns a good cattlerun on the upper Brazos
, ought to live out West
, and keep things square.”
“What do you think of us now?”
asks a citizen of Galveston county
“You seem to have a big estate-wood, water, grass.”
“ Grass is a cuss.
You see these fields near the creek: they're under cotton.
Cotton is king.
You think we might have meat and milk?
We might; but then who cares to throw away his chance?
No man ever got rich on meat and milk.
Dollars are what we want; dollars from St. Louis
; dollars from Boston
and New York; and neither St. Louis
nor New York would send us a coin if we began killing our own calf and milking our own cow. If we had no need for Eastern dollars, we'd divide.”