TEXAS JACK'S GRAVE.

The Tombstone Above It Would Have Suited Him to a Dot.

Leadville, Col., Aug. 10.—While Buffalo Bill is raising such a furor in England, and while the Britishers, from the royal prince down to the meanest costermonger, are doing the Wild West Show with vigor, there are a few here who recall the other great cowboy of the footlights at well as the foothills, and many a visit has been paid to one quaintly-marked grave in the gravelly burying ground of this far-up city. The grave is that of Texas Jack. He had many points in common with his fellow-showman from the plains. They both took seats in the local Legislatures, and both tacked the prefix "Hon." to their common, every-day legal names. They both were known the country over by their cowboy nicknames, and they were the twin deities to the small boy with an Indian-killing weakness. In some respects the Hon. J. B. Omohundro was a better stage subject than the Hon. William Cody. He could orate, and filled out a border drama in fine style. He came east and met Morlacchi, the famous dancer. It was a love match between the rough-and-ready dashing buck rider and the Italian woman trained in the school of La Scala. She little dreamed that she was to meet her fate when she came as queen of the ballet to fill engagements in this country. The two loved, the gallant border swain and the warm-blooded dark-eyed Italian sylph. They married and could not enjoy each other's society enough. It was while filling an engagement in this pneumonia city that Texas Jack went the way of a majority of the 8800 who lie about him, and he succumbed to the dread lung trouble.

His grave slab would have suited his ideas to a dot. There is a cartridge belt, with a bowie-knife and guns: below, his Winchester. Then a portrait of his pony, Yellow Chief, duly labelled, and finally a few words of the famous man who rests so quietly below.