urnish the necessary exercise that nature demands. Indeed,
there is no better exercise to be found than riding horseback to
stimulate sluggish organs, or excite to healthy action the bodily
functions. It stirs the liver, causes deep breathing, strengthens the
heart and circulation, tones the nerves and makes an appetite that
waits on good digestion. An outdoor life is often better than medicine
and is a panacea for the "ills that human flesh is heir to."

The ranchman, if he is in tune with his surroundings, finds a
never-failing spring of pleasure. If he is company for himself he is
well entertained and if he is a lover of nature he finds interesting
subjects for study upon every hand. His wants are few and simple and
the free life that he lives develops in him a strong and sturdy
manhood. He is the picture of health and is happy and contented as the
day is long.

However, such a life does not suit everyone, as individual tastes
differ. Prejudice also exerts an influence and is apt to estimate all
western life as crude and undesirable, being in a transition state of
change from savagery to civilization. Be it even so; for, if the
savage had never existed to furnish the ancestry that civilized man
boasts, civilization would not have been possible. It is only natural
that this should be so as, in the order of nature, evolution begins at
the bottom and works up.

There is perhaps no condition in life that can be called perfect, yet
of the two extremes we choose to believe that civilization is
preferable to barbarism; but an intermediate state has the advantage
over both extremes by avoiding native crudeness upon the one hand and
excessive refinement upon the other, both being equally undesirable.

Happiness, which we all profess to seek, exists in some degree
everywhere but we are always striving to acquire something more. In
our constant struggle for improvement, progress undoubtedly is made in
the right direction. With refinement comes increased sensibility and
an enlarged capacity for enjoyment. But, such a state in itself is not
one of unalloyed bliss, as might be supposed, since it is marred by its
antithesis, an increased amount of sickness and suffering, which is the
inevitable penalty of civilization. In such a progression the
pleasures of life become more, but the acuteness of suffering is also
increased. The mistake lies in the fact that in our eager pursuit
after the artificial we forget natur