Rensselaer Republican, Volume 18, Number 8, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 October 1885 — The Broncho. [ARTICLE]

The Broncho.

A broncho is a horse. He has four legs like the saw-horse, but is decidedly more skittish. The broncho is of gentle deportment and modest mien, but there isn’t a real safe place about him. There is nothing mean about the broncho, though; he is perfectly reasonable, and acts on principle. All he asks is to be let alone, but he does ask this and even insists upon it. He is firm in this matter, and no kind of argument can'shake his determination. There is a broncho that lives out some miles from this city. We know him right well. One day a man roped him and tied him to put a saddle on him. The broncho looked sadly at him, shook his head and begged the fellow as plain as could be to go away and not try to interfere with a broncho who was simply engaged in the pursuit of his own happiness, but the man came on with the saddle, and continued to aggress. Then the broncho reached oqjt with his right hind foot and expostulated with him so that he died. When thoroughly aroused the broncho is fatal, and if you can get close enough to examine his cranial structure you will find a cavity just above the eye where the bump of remorse should be. The broncho is what the cowboys call “high strung.” If you want to know just how high he is strung, climb up on his apex. We rode a broncho once. We got on with great pomp and a derrick, but we didn’t put on any unnecessary style when we went to get off. The beast evinced considerable surprise when we'took up our location upon his dorsal fin. He seemed* to think a moment, and then he gathered up his loins and delivered a volley of heels and hardware, straight out from the shoulder. The recoil was fearful. We saw that our seat was going to be contested, and we began to make a motion to dismount; but the beast had got under yay by this time, so we breathed a silent hymn and tightened our grip. He now went off into a spasm of tall, stiff-legged bucks. He pitched us so high that every time we started down we would meet him coming up on another trip. Finally he gave us one grand farewell boost, and we clove the firmament and split up through the hushed ethereal until our toes ached from the lowness of the temperature, and we could distinctly hear the music of the spheres. Then we came down and fell in a little heap, about 100 yards from the starting point A kind Samaritan gathered up our remains in a cigar box and carried us to the hospital. As they looked pityingly at us the attending surgeon marveled as to the nature of our mishap. One said it was a cyclqne, another said it was a railroad smash-up; but we thought of the calico-hided pony that was grazing peacefully in the dewy meadow and held our peace.— Santa Fe Democrat.