A show of international horsemanship means "good business." This is the latest idea of BUFFALO BILL, and nobody is so well fitted to carry it out. Horsey men the world over are "kittle cattle," hard to lead and harder to drive, full of tricks and tempers. Where a dozen "representative riders" are gathered to compete, Turks, heathen, heretics, and black people, there the spirit of mischief will have its home for the time being. But if any mortal can manage a few scores of them BUFFALO BILL is he. Already the Cossack contingent has reached Paris, personally conducted by a real Prince. We may confidently hope that these will prove to be picked specimens of the race, each big enough—and ugly enough—to cut up three of the most stalwart cowboys. But Cossacks of the old stock, from the Don and Ukraine, are too good-tempered to eat anybody—unless the exigencies of war demand it, of course. Those of the Terek and Kuban are not so trustworthy, perhaps. But beyond the look of the thing it is not easy to understand what these international horsemen are going to do. None of them, we venture to say, except Australian stock-riders, can compete with BILL'S cowboys in the ring. Their merits are different. If it were possible to collect a few Sulu pirates, we should have something original. From all accounts, these ruffians are not less gallant and wonderful on a horse's bare back than on a stormy sea. Rajah BROOKE was a fine rider. But he, with saddle and bridle, found himself nowhere beside the Sulu centaurs.