Morning journal and courier., 1891-08-27
'cReckon not," said Jim. sewhat'd i,

'tReckon not" said Jim. sswhatd I, costfn
 "Paid $325 for her," said Jake. whatd you give for yoursan
 Cost me $350," answered Jim. with s triumphant grin.
 Jake was blue over the discovery that he didn't own the costliest watch in Abilene. He stood, holding the now depissd chrono- meter in his hand and looking at it Brsc- ing up after a few moments he said: ''There ain't much difference between lem. But I'll bet can throw mine further than you can yours"
 Everybody laughed and looked at Jim. The latter was not to be bluffed. Quick ss flash he replied: 'In just go you one on that"
 The crowd went out into the rocky street. A scratch was drawn. It was agreed that the man who threw his watch the furthest should have what was left of both watches. They threw, and the fellow who won led the way back into the exchange and set up the drinks
 "A few months afterwards" i" said Col onel Britton, concluding the narrative, sT was back in Abilene. saw Jakeand Jim. Each had g Waterbury, and when he pull. ed it out of his pocket he held it in both hands for fear it would drop on the floor and get hurt"
 In 1878 and 1879 stock cattle roamed over three-fourths of Texas The ranges stretched from the Gulf to No Mans Land, and from Fort Worth to Fl Paso. Those cattle were worth SS head when there was any market at all for them. They were called dogie in east Texas, sealions down by the Gulf, and longhorns in the Panhandle. In 1881 the price had crept up to S22. 50 head. Then the COW baron burst his shell. In 1882 these same cattle went at $52. 50 6 head, and held that for two years. There were 10, 000, 900 of them Money poured in from the north and east to buy at this advanced price. Cattle com panies were formed more than a hundred of them. Stock was sold right and left Books of it were taken with avidity by men who had never seen Texas, and never ex- pected to see it. To one looking back up- on that wild rush into the cattle business, 1t seems as if a mania must have taken possession of otherwise level-headed men. Nobody can tell the amount of capital which flowed in from the north to be inves- ted cattle. But it never flowed back. Everybody loaded up, and then the prices began to drop, drop, drop. They went clear back to the point from which they started, and the tenderfoot and his money were parted.
 Fast as the baron's wealth waned. his wealth in politics and his prestige in busi- ness departed fast. Five years after Dal- las had given the baron s5, 900 banquet there was none in the commercial metro polls to do him reverence. Five years after the baron had been shown at Austin by Colonel Bill Sterett the handwriting of ''the man with hoe" on the wall the leg islsture had decreed an end to ''free grass |" The baron was buying or leasing the pub lie land for his cattle to roam over. The despised "nester" has shouldered the hoe and was moving in steady ranks over the ranges to the northwest, to the west, and to the southwest. It was a strange trans formation.
 And there were still several countries to hear from. Some of the surprises that are taken place in this new country are almost Imaginable. A man came down from the north and discovered that little way out of Fort Worth there was some land natur- ally adapted to melons. He named his product the sylvanis cantaloup. This year he is growing ,, 2,000 acres of slyranis cant aloups and shipping them to the Rocky mountains. Think of fruit in Texasl If the youngsters who now beset the trains at station after station with baskets of peaches and pears had come around a few years ago. the cowboys would have used the fruit to do the William Tell act. The cattle baron has passed away. A 20, ,000-acre pasture was cut up into farms | few weeks ago and it realized at auction an average of between S7 and SS an acre. "The man with the hoe" has made great | inroads. But it does not follow that the | live stock industry of Texas had departed | with the picturesque baron.
 It was the romance of the COW business | which departed with the cattle baron. The reality is still here. John R Hoxie who built the million-dollar packing house in Fort Worth, says Texas has gained the these grain growers and lost nothing in live stock. He had a discussion not long ago with some fellow capitalists who were cattle industry. Mir. HoIie disputed their l forebodings, and the assessors returns for county after county were examined. "We found," said MT. Hoxie, "that in those very countries where the most land has been turned into grain growing, live stock had increased instead of dimin- | ished."
 The explanation is easy. The long-leg- ged, racer-built steer is thing of the past | in all this region which the grain grower has invaded. A stocky short horned animal has succeeded to the posses | sion of what grass land is left And this
 
 | until his ribs show, consumes straw and | fodder and cottonseed meal
 Far out toward the Mexican frontier a l few of the big concerns still exists to re- | mind the people of the cattle baron as he | was in the palmy days. Dan Waggoner has so, 900 head scattered about. 10000 here and 10, 600 there, where range can be | found. His home ranch contains 20, ,000
 acres. He is the biggest individual cattle l owner in Texas. In 1882 there were twen. | ty men who thought themselves as big | barons as MT. Waggoner. The WaggoneI | ranch was valued at Sl ,0O0, ,000 in 1886. MT. Waggoner did not load himself with liabilities, and if his ranch doubled and then undoubled it didn't hurt him. Of tho
 surviving cattle companies, those magnif
 cent sggregstions of capital which acted ai
 if Texas was a steer and they had it by th,
 tail, in 1882, the Matador still survives
 The Matador company owns los, 900 heaC
 of cattle, and pas ture, bought from the state, which required 500 miles of wir, l fencing. And to-day there is a law on tn,
 statute books of Texas which says an, land corporation hereafter established
 shall "only own such real estate in thi