David Hill is a frontier boy. I wish all frontier boys were like him in some respects. His mother is a widow, and although he is but twelve years old, he is able to render her much assistance by helping her keep her stock together.

She owns only three hundred head of cattle, and can ill afford to lose any. When several head stray from the range where they usually run, which you know will sometimes happen; no one is more successful in finding and bringing them back than David.

When he starts to look for them he takes with him a blanket and some provisions in a wallet for himself, and a stake rope for his pony, and though he is never gone more than two or three days, he very seldom returns without bringing with him the missing cattle.

One reason why David usually has such good success, is because he is very persevering. He is not satisfied with looking a little in a careless way, and inquiring once or more, but he looks thoroughly wherever he goes.

He has no notion of returning home to say, "Mother, there are four cows and three yearlings which I can't find anywhere; and that big black steer is gone. I reckon somebody has taken him up." O no, this is not David's style of talking.

Another reason why he usually has such good success, is because all the men in the neighborhood who ride after stock are glad to help him. Can you guess why? Because he himself is so obliging and polite.

He knows the brands of all the men who live for miles around, and always takes pains to give them what information he can about their cattle or horses. And very often he drives up their stray cattle for them. Of course they can and will help such an obliging boy more than he can help them.

Besides, as I have already told you, he is always polite. Men like civil boys as much as they dislike rude, saucy ones. I am sorry for boys who fancy that they know as much, and are of just as much importance, and have as much right to make themselves heard, as men. All sensible people blame and pity such foolish boys.

David has a fine young pony which he calls Smasher. When necessary, Smasher can run very fast. If David has a wild cow to head, the way he rides through ravines, and jumps gullies and creeks, is enough to make one dizzy. I do not believe you could keep up with him when he gets after an ox in the river bottom.

But David does not do like many boys whom I know. He does not ride hard every time he mounts his horse. Indeed he is content when Smasher runs his best only when it is necessary.

He remembers that horses' muscles can ache as well as boys'; and he often says, "If I were Smasher, I know I should not like to be owned by a boy who, whenever he was on my back, was all the time spurring, and whipping, and whooping."

He never leaves Smasher tied to a fence half a day, but when he has to wait long at any place, he stakes his pony where it can eat grass. He is often thirsty himself and knows how uncomfortable it is if he cannot get water, so he does not neglect to let Smasher drink as often as he needs to.

The result of this is, that while many boys' horses are lean, lame, broken-down, and of no account, Smasher is always fat, handsome, strong, and fast.