The railway cow-catcher, of which we used to see frequent mention in books of American travel, appears now to have been superseded by another contrivance with a different form; for in the United States nothing remains long in one form. The new form resembles that of the snow-plough, and it must act by partially lifting what it comes in contact with, and then throwing it off to the right or left, as it may happen. This cow-plough, though evidently superior to any contrivance for picking up or catching the cow, does not always do its work. Not far from the town of Jackson, we came up with one of these poor animals that happened to be lying on the rails. On this occasion the plough went over it, and so did the first two or three carriages; till at last the unhappy brute got fast fixed among the springs and wheels of the car I was in. The train was stopped, and the cow taken out, which, though horribly mangled, proved to be still alive. The conductor called out for the loan of a pistol to enable him to put it out of its misery. In an instant almost from every window on that side the train a hand was extended offering the desired instrument. On my making some observation on the number of pistols that were forthcoming ready loaded, at a moment’s notice, the gentleman seated next to me replied, ‘that it was quite possible that I was the only man unarmed in the train. That formerly in that part of the country many people carried revolvers, but that now, from apprehension of the blacks, in consequence of the frequent robberies committed by them, no one ever thought of moving without his six-shooter.’