he throws it on its back
and pulls it toward him. Then he yanks it into a sitting position with
its back against his knees. Bending over it he takes off first the thick
coat of wool on its under-body from throat to tail. It looks very easy,
but only skill can guide the shears through that thick mass of wool,
taking it off so cleanly and thoroughly, and yet leaving the pink skin
unbroken.

Next come the fore legs, then the hind legs, then the wool is trimmed
from around the eyes and from the top of the head. The workman moves
very carefully here. Then the sheep is righted and the wool is cut from
its back and sides. It is interesting to see how quietly the animal
submits to it all. Quickly it is all over and an attendant pushes the
sheep through another aperture back into an outer pen. The men work very
rapidly and a good shearer can easily handle one hundred sheep a day.
Some expert shearers can handle nearly two hundred. These men are paid
nine cents a head for their work.

It was a picturesque sight in the long, airy shed. Six men were handling
their sheep, the clicking shears moving rapidly over the big animals. A
boy gathered up the wool as fast as it dropped from the sheep. Later it
would be sorted into its different grades. An important, happy sheep dog
ran wildly about, eyes shining, tail wagging, his sharp nose lifted to
his master's face. He seemed to be saying, "This is fine, master, but
isn't there something that I could do at this moment?" The overseer
stood at the end of the shed looking down the row of busy workers.

From Medicine Bow we came to Laramie, reaching there on the eve of the
Fourth of July. Laramie boasts a good hotel which was crowded with
people. Ranchmen had brought their families for the festivities of the
Fourth. Tall cowboys lounged about, wearing their most ornamental tall
boots, their best silk shirts, and brightest neckties. The streets in
the evening were full of people, some on horseback, some walking.
Confetti, those noise-makers known as "cluckers," and the miniature
feather dusters called "ticklers," were all in evidence. Everybody was
in good humour and in a mood of expectation.

[Illustration: 1. Lincoln Highway Sign. 2. Lincoln Highway Sign in
Western Village. 3. Cowboys and Cowgirls in Laramie. 4. Sage Brush in
the Desert. 5. Last View of the Rockies leaving Colorado. 6. Movers'
Camp in Colorado.]

The morning of the Fourth we drove out to the edge of the town to see
the