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29. 
he won twenty out of the twenty-four races he entered. A trainer who has done that well with horses has a right to be proud of his work and that is what I am as regards the training given to this [[strikethrough]] filly [[/strikethrough]] ^gelding. The old horse [[strikethrough]] is [[/strikethrough]] was the last time I saw him back [[strikethrough]] on [[/strikethrough]] ^from the race and a peach in looks and form. She is in as fine a form as she ever was and a horse ever inch of [[strikethrough]] her [[/strikethrough]] ^him. The record she has made on the various tracks is one to be proud of and we are all proud of the animal. The mother of "Tabba" is old gray Bessie. He also has a full brother at Anadarko. He is a great runner and a prize winner as well. 

Joe Kirchfield, a colored man, was the best cook that I ever run across. He was on the Burnett ranch. With him as cook, the boys could move any herd for they alway knew that there was a square meal awaiting them when they go^t into camp. He seemed to know just when we were coming into camp and would have dinner a steam' hot for us. Jack [[strikethrough]] Hawey [[/strikethrough]] ^Harvey, colored, was also a great fellow. He drove and rode well and was a fearless ^[[s]]ort of a cuss. He was always ready and willing to go whenever occassion demanded it and was never known to shirk a call to duty. We were all young men together and today we are all getting old. [[strikethrough]] He [[/strikethrough]] ^[[We]] will always remain boys though for it is hard for any of us to think that we are getting old and when Gabriel sound his trumpet I expect we will be the same set of jolly youngsters as we were then. 

There was old Sid Williams. He was a big ranchman at that time on the plains. He was a great fellow and had a big heart as all the old guard had. He would greet a fellow by shaking his hand and never forget a face, if he once met a fellow. He was in later years a believer in the little farm and did much toward making of the Pandhandle Country what it is today. Whenever one of the white or colored cowboys met him there was always a welcome for him and almost anything that he owned we could have for the asking. 

There was Lee McMurtney, now an ex-sheriff of Wichita county. In 1877 I first met him coming across the Brazos river with 1400 wild Chishom steers. He asked me to help him across and I did so. He showed ^[[me]] how to