ROBERT University Library University of California - Berkeley COWBOY LYRICS COWBOY LYRICS By ROBERT V. CARR W. B. CONKEY COMPANY Publishers CHI C AGO COPYRIGHT, 1908, BY ROBERT V. CARR CONTENTS PAE Dedication 9 The End of the Trail 11 RANCH AND RANGE The Old Cowboy's Lament 15 The Irrigator 16 The Smell of the Sage Brush in the Mornin' 17 Father and Son 19 Waterloo of Poker Bills 21 When Dutchy Plays the Mouth Harp 24 The Bronco Buster 26 A Cowboy in the City 27 Roobiyat of Pigin-toed Pete 28 Doc Pierce's Choice 29 An Oracle of the Plains 32 The Widow's Lot 33 The Chuck Wagon 35 Branding Pen Gossip 36 In the Gumbo 37 Hank Laimer's Kid 38 Animal Rhymes 39 The Man of the Ranch 41 Tamed 42 Springtime on the Range 44 Down at Haller's Dancin' 45 [5] Contents PAGE A Moral-less Tale 47 Kick of the Ranch Hand 48 A Fragment 50 Baldy Joe's Simple Rhyme 51 A Coarse Lack of Appreciation 53 Cowboy's Salvation Song 54 The Boys are Comin* to Town 56 A Sunshine Song 57 The Would-be Cowpuncher 58 Jim Davis and the Bicycle Man 59 Jed Williams 60 The Nifty Cowpuncher 62 The Cowboy and the Stork 64 Ranch Lullaby 65 A Tribute to the Doctor 66 To a Cowboy Poet 67 Post Mortum Politeness 68 Jawin' Jane 69 A Cowboy on Religion 70 The Paper Man 72 Lem Scobey's Opinion 74 Ballade of Miss Susan O'Toole 77 Advice from the Range 79 When it's Gettin' Plantin' Time 81 Spring 82 Let's Quit Quarrelin' fer Awhile 83 When a Man has Money 84 A Cowboy Fatalist 85 The Old Cowman 86 Holoway 87 A Little Ax to Grind 89 [6] Contents PAGE A Word from Shorty 91 Dance, You Punchers, Dance 92 Doc Pierce's Way , 94 A Light Joke 97 The Old Cowboy's Complaint 98 ON THE TRAIL OF LOVE That There Girl 103 Speakin' of Her Eyes 104 Them Heap Big Thoughts 105 That Scrub 106 She Writes a Note 107 Her Hands 108 Confidential 109 To Dance with Her 110 Speakin' of Arms Ill The Tryst 112 Jes' A-foolin' 114 Real Affection 115 A Cowboy's Resolution 116 Bashfulness 117 Trail Song 118 An' a Two-step's What They Play.. 119 Partiality 120 A Romance of the Range 121 An Ode to the Slow Horse 123 True Love 125 Time's Heavy Hand 127 Plato Disputed 129 When She Goes to Get the Mail 130 The Princess of Desire 132 [7] Contents PAGE The Man You Couldn't Get 140 Sary 142 A Lothario of the Range 143 Boy, Will You Care? 145 WHERE THE CHINOOK BLOWS Green Prairies 151 The Ranch House 152 The Spring Roundup 153 The Camp's Asleep 154 Twilight on the Range 155 The Crocus 156 Tiger Lilies 157 Sage Brush 158 The Bad Lands 159 The Rattlesnake 160 The Buttes 161 Prairie Wolves 162 The Winds of the West. 163 ON THE TRAIL OF YESTERDAY Onjinjintka 169 The Gun Fight 172 Love and Death 174 The Western Trail 175 To a Buffalo Skull 176 At the Grave of a Border Cavalier. . . 177 The Doom of the Weak 178 The Night Stampede 179 The Circle 180 In Passing 181 Dear Little Fire 182 [8] DEDICATION He spoke of his home country like a man talkin' 'bout an old friend Lem Scobey. To you, old pard, a hearty "How." Thou knowest I have not forgotten. Thou know- est that some day I will be with you, and, as of yore, we will ride through the rain of a summer's day, or, in the keen October, feel the wind of the western mountains in our faces. Perhaps, it will be a strange range, and we will have to cross the Great Divide before we reach the "Home Ranch," but believe me, boy, I'll be there I'll be there. And, when we meet, you will say unto me, quaintly and with the light of a great happiness in your face: "You miser- able son-of-a-gun, I'm tickled to death to see you." After which you will strike me rudely on the shoulder and call me many strange names. Then your bed will be my bed, your chuck my chuck and your tobacco my tobacco. R. V. C. Chicago, 1908. [9] THE END OF THE TRAIL 'Tween the old time and the new, I have sung heart-songs of you You, lean stranger to all fear, Careless border cavalier. Now, old pard, that you are gone, And the gray and cheerless dawn Of a day called Progress comes, And the throaty engine hums Down the trail where you and I Made our camps and watched the sky Drop its crimson sunset bars To a bunch of mav'rick stars Then, oh, then, I cry aloud Curses on the white-faced crowd, On the heights of stone and wood, Standing where our line camps stood; On the jangle of the street, And each pale worn face I meet. On the coyote ways of men Sharp of fang beyond our ken Snapping o y er a brother's bones For a pile of yellow stones. Did we seek for gold or fame ? No, we played a careless game; And on plunging ponies we Shouted back in mocking glee, When in town the black gun spoke Thro 1 a smiling wreath of smoke. Thus I dream and long and fret, For my heart will not forget Not forget those old, red days Of the trail its careless ways] Not forget you know the sign Answer me, oh, pard of mine. [12] RANCH AND RANGE RANCH AND RANGE THE OLD COWBOY'S LAMENT The range's filled up with farmers an' there's fences ev'ry where, A painted house 'most ev'ry quarter mile; They's raisin' blooded cattle an' plantin' sort- ed seed, An' puttin' on a painful lot o' style. There hain't no grass to speak of an' the water holes are gone, The wire of the farmer holds them tight; There's little use to law 'em an' little use to kick, An' mighty sight less use there is to fight. There's them coughin' separaters an' their dirty, dusty crews, An' wagons runnin' over with the grain; With smoke a-driftin' upward like a hearse plume in the air, The story of its shadow sure is plain. The wolves have left the country an' the long- horns are no more, An' all the game worth shootin' at is gone; An' it's time fer me to foller, 'cause I'm only in the way, An'. I'd better be a-movin' movin' on. [15] Cowboy Lyrics THE IRRIGATOR Was ridin' down a-past his place, An' then I thinks I'll 'low To sort o' pass the time o' day An' speak a friendly "how." He's mussin' 'round there in the mud, A little dam he's got; He 'lows to make a cacti flat Into a garden spot. I says to him the land's no good, Fer farmin' she don't win, But all he does is slop around An' kind o' funny grin. I says the land's jes' useful fer Some cows to raise an' range, But he jes' grins an' hollers back, "There's goin' to be a change." He's mussin' 'round there in the mud, A little dam he's got; He 'lows to make a cacti flat Into a garden spot. [16] Ranch and Range THE SMELL OF THE SAGE BRUSH IN THE MORNIN' Oh, the old, red sun is risin' an' the air is clean an' fine, With jes' a little chill that tingles thro' An' starts your thoughts to millin' that the fire o' the cook Was made jes' sort o' 'specially fer you. But what jes' makes me glad I simply am alive, My very heart with kindness sweet adornin', Is that keen an' bracin' scent that drifts across the flats, The smell of the sage brush in the mornin'. Have traveled many trails in this camp you call the world, An' lived a life as rough as rough could be; Am jes' a plain, old puncher with all a punch- er's faults, But still there's things that allers come to me At that there time o' wakin'; they be thoughts so sweet an' fine, Which no artist or no poet could go scornin', When I catch that keen, clean scent that drifts across the flats, The smell of the sage brush in the mornin'. [17] Cowboy Lyrics When I cross the Great Divide an' my outfit will no more Know me around its wagons or its fires; I would jes' like to say 'fore I ups an' drifts away, There's simply jes' one thing my heart desires : Put me where the sun comes up to ride the western range, An' all the land with gladness fine adornin', So my ghost can sort o' come an' sense that sweet perfume, The smell of the sage brush in the mornin'. [18] Ranch and Range FATHER AND SON (Poetic Contribution to the Lariet Lyre} His tough old dad was wont to drive Thro' here in days of old A freight outfit and by its side He walked and cussed, we're told. But now his son, all minus brains, Goes chug-chug down the street; He owns an auto, dontcherknow, And thinks he's IT complete. The old man used to think it sport To fight and paw around, And have the bodies of his foes All prostrate on the ground; But mention fight to Willie dear, He'd "scweam" for help, you know, And if a tree was standing near, He'd up it quickly go. The old man used to think it fine To grab a flap- jack and To feed his face with nothing but The fingers on his hand. Now Willie nibbles Bran-o-food, Quite pretty and quite sweet, And has a clean napkin, you know, Whene'er he starts to eat. [19] Coivboy Lyrics The old man used to frequent drink Of liquid lightning that Would make him see an elephant A-roosting on his hat. Now Willie takes a soda and It overcomes his brain; The soda has an easy job Is also very plain. The old man used to wear his shirt For comfort, not for fit, And many months would pass away Before he would shed it. Now Willie dons a frilled concern, And changes every morn, And wears a cuff around his neck His paw would laugh to scorn. And thus you'll note the difference 'Tween Willie and his dad; It is the truth, altho' 'twould make 'Most anyone feel sad; For Willie's parent was a man, Tho' rough and tough and rude; But Willie is that aching void, The sappy, modern dude. [20] Ranch and Range WATERLOO OF POKER BILLS (A Poetic Effort Recently Appearing in the Chaste Lariet Lyre) Oh, he hailed from the Hills, Black Hills, Black Hills, And he went by the name of Bills just Bills, Of the head that is swelled without more words, We'll say he'd the same to throw to the birds; He thought that of poker there was no turn That he had ever omitted to learn, For he'd beat 'em all in the blue Black Hills, And he longed for gore, did Bills did Bill*. And so into Denver town went he With a ripe, round wad of currency In tens and twenties and the bigger kind 'Twould make a national bank go blind, Or Morgan pale or the treasury Of Uncle Sam know misery But Bills just Bills, that was his name Just simply said, "I want a game; Is there a man around this camp Who knows a flush from a coal oil lamp ? Come on, I'm from the Hills Black Hills, An' my name in full is Poker Bills. An* I'm here to skin this coyote town 'Til you pull your freight or all throw down. My name is Bills youVe heerd of Bills, From the rocky caves of the blue Black Hills- pi] Cowboy Lyrics An' I'm here fer blood, red blood, red blood, An' the man who plays me, his name is MUD.". As he finished speaking a sad-eyed chap, With a lip a-droop like a pocket flap, Stepped forward and said, said he: 'Til go you if I lose, by gee!" And he throwed a wad that made the chills Chase up the back of Old Man Bills. Well, they played and the sad-eyed duck Seemed loaded down with golden luck; But he handled the pasteboards awkwardly, 'Til a sand-hill crane could plainly see He didn't know how, and Poker Bills Just smiled a bit as he drew for "fills." But darn it all, the sad-eyed duck Held onto his dog-gone, blame fool luck; And he horned Old Bills for all his pile, And he did it all in a quiet style, And sweet and kind and pleasantly, 'Til Bills had to grin, did he did he. When Bills had soaked his coat and vest, His watch and chain and all the rest, He gave a gasp and he said, said he, "Say, Mister Man, who might you be?" "Oh, I hain't much," replied Sad Eyes, "An' Lightnin' Lige is 'bout my size, An' this here is My chosen biz. [22] Ranch and Range An' let me say, my Black Hills friend, Whichever way your tracks may wend, You'll find this statement mighty true There's allers someone as smart as you; There's allers someone whose head to yours Is like the sky to a scene indoors.'! And he shoved o'er a "V," Did he did he, That Bills might eat sub-se-qu-ent-ly. L'ENVOI And Bills Old Bills Old Poker Bills, Returned in a box car to the Hills, With his mind made up that to play a game 'Tis always best to know the same. "To know it well," said Poker Bills, The champion of the blue Black Hills, "An* not allow your mind to track That the whole world is an easy pack, Or 'cause you skinned the home-folks that You can't get fried fer all your fat Whene'er by chance you sadly roam Away from home, sweet home, sweet home." [23] Cowboy Lyrics WHEN DUTCH Y PLAYS THE MOUTH HARP When Dutchy plays the mouth harp, ev'ry puncher gathers 'round To help on with the music by a-stompin' on the ground; An' the cook he throws a shuffle an' the night hawk pats his hand, When Dutchy plays the mouth harp in a way to beat the band: Oh, my girl she has a turned-up nose, A turned-up nose, a turned-up nose, Wella, wella, wella, I suppose That she can't help that turned-up nose. When Dutchy plays the mouth harp an' we've cached our chuck away, An* ev'ryone a-havin' fun an' feelin' mighty gay, There's nothin' we likes better than to lend a helpin' hand, When Dutchy plays the mouth harp in a way to beat the band: Oh, my girl has got a pinto face, A pinto face, a pinto face, Wella, wella, wella, who did place Them freckles on her little face ? [24] Ranch and Range When Dutchy plays the mouth harp does a cake walk something fine Tis then us old cowpunchers come a-siftin'* down the line A-swingin' an' a-shuf-fel'in' an' pattin' o' the hand, When Dutchy plays the mouth harp in a way to beat the band: Oh, my gM she wears a number nine, A number nine, a number nine, Wella, wella, wella, it's a sign, She might as well be wearin' mine. [25] Cowboy Lyrics THE BRONCO BUSTER You rough-necks think it plenty fun To set up there an' josh an' run Your talk-machines an' watch me take This here old coffin-head to break. "Stay with him, fan him!" What you say? "Pull leather?" Nix; I'm here to stay; No bronk that ever lived or growed, This prairie chicken ever throwed. (It hain't because I hate this hoss, It's jes' because I will be boss; I'll make him know an' not ferget, That I am allers boss, you bet!) See that! he's gentlin' down an' he Tomorrow will jes' f oiler me An' let me scratch his head an' cheek, A lamb he'll beat fer bein' meek. Oh, laff, you gobblers, have your fun, But when with this here job I'm done, 1 11 show you would-be's this bronk change, An' lead the best hoss on the range. [26] Ranch and Range A COWBOY IN THE CITY Hain't much diff'rence, as I see, 'Tween the city man an' me; He says a canon or divide, Or lonesomeness o' prairie wide Jes' makes him feel as if the earth Was utterly dee-void of mirth. Whilst here I stand an' watch the herd A-driftin' by, none say a word To me, or lift a friendly hand, That I might smile an' understand. It is a law no man can change Each hoss unto his chosen range; Jes' so, he wants the crowd, the noise, I wants the prairie an' the boys A-stringin' out like wild geese fly When spring roundup's a-passin' by. [27] Cowboy Lyrics ROOBIYAT OF PIGIN-TOED PETE (A Fragment from the Files of the Lariet Lyre) I Hain't Life queer? To me she seems Jes' like a string of locoed dreams That foller trails that lead nowhere, An* so I says, "Don't fuss or cry or care." II All happiness is but passin'; 'tennyrate, Such be the crool words o' Fate; You meets it fer a minit by the trail, Then some one ties a tin can to its tail. Ill What crave I? 'Tain't nothin' much A flap- jack an' a jug o* such Nose-paint as them godlets swig, perchance, An' you beside me at a country dance. [28] Ranch and Range DOC PIERCE'S CHOICE My friend, Doc Pierce well, Doc an' me Set in the hotel, an' there be An orchestray a-playin' of Some highfalootin' dream o' love. Says Doc: "That's music, I suppose An Injun thinks a hat is clothes But shucks! it hain't the kind that stays An' makes you think o' other days; An' makes you go to feelin' sad B 'cause you can't help feelin' glad; An' makes you go to feelin' glad B'cause you can't help feelin' sad. "Now-days real music they don't know, These long-haired dudelets with the bow, A-pawin' an' a-twistin' 'round, Be jes' emittin' of a sound. Their souls don't talk thro' them there strings, They hain't got folks to dreamin' things I say these fancy fiddlers, now, O' makin' music don't know how ! "One time I trails," Doc Pierce goes on, "Up from the South, out West I'm gone, An' drifts around from camp to camp, Until one night old Nature's stamp Falls on my heart an' I, well, I Am that homesick I want to die. [29] Cowboy Lyrics "I sees a place an' wanders in To watch the games an' hear the tin A-changin' hands, an' likewise see If any one on earth knows me. About that time a kid drifts in A-totin' of a violin A riddle, sure, it was his game To drift around an' play the same. "Talk o' makin' dumb things speak! You ought to see that there boy's cheek Lay lovin'-like on that noise-box, Whilst on his heels he stands an' rocks, An' lets his soul sift down them strings An' tell you all the sweetest things You ever heerd of in your life, From courtin' down to mortal strife. "An* when he lets her die away, I rise up here an' beg to say It seemed the world got dark an' cold, Like when you know you're gettin' old. An' then I says to him right then, 'Say, son, I antes up a ten If you'll jes' give my heart a treat Play "Sunny Southern Skies" complete.' "The kid he nods, then slams his chin Up close to that old violin, An' draws the bow he knew his job An' then she starts to cry an' sob; An' underneadst the cryin' seems [30] Ranch and Range To run a millyun little streams Of joy an' happiness an' smiles An' then, well, then, talk o' the trials! "I swallers an' I s wallers more, An' stands there blinkin' at the floor; An' then thro' misty eyes I sees A tough old rooster try to sneeze, Pertendin' like he had a cold Thinks I, 'Old boy, that game is old;' An' then I pulls my hat cl'ar down An' passes out an' drifts uptown, With that dear song a-ha'ntin' me Jes' like a ghost o' melody. ' 'Neath Sunny Southern Skies,' you bet! There hain't a piece been written yet An' played as that there kid played it An' made a heart-shot, center hit. "That's why this high-flung music goes Right past my ears an' never throws One shiver in my skelp fer why ? B 'cause the player's heart is dry. He don't play up the soul-game strong, Or give some heartache to his song; That's why I say my choice I'll throw Strong fer that piece played years ago Out in a camp where homesick hearts Give to the tears some easy starts, An' that there kid jes' closed his eyes An' led me back 'neath southern skies."- [31] Cowboy Lyrics AN ORACLE OF THE PLAINS A bow-legged cowboy sat rolling, one day, A cute cigarette in his own nimble way; And when he had finished the coffin nail, he Delivered this wisdom free gratis to me: "What's the use fer to worry, or even to fret, Per the things of the world you never will get ? An' likewise she's true that fer me or fer you, There's jes' about one or two tricks we can do; Be as good as we know an' cut out the bad, An* allers be cheerful an' never get mad; Fer the frownin' face gathers the wrinkles, my friend, An' the smilin' one stays like a boy's to the end." Thus the bow-legged puncher delivered ad- vice In a style not offensive but studiously nice; And then smiling quaintly he winked at the sky In a way that was childish but wickedly sly. [32] Ranch and Range THE WIDOW'S LOT Mis' Pike jes' called the first time fer A month o' Sundays I've seen her She took on scan'luss about me A-livin' here alone an' she Jes' upped an' said a ranch was not A place fer widders, an' she sot An' harped on that one string 'til I Jes' shut her mouth with tea an' pie. Poor William's dead nigh on a year, But I can't say I'm pinin' here; An' law me ! what's a soul to do, What's goin' onto forty-two? Fer who'll dispoot a real live man Around a ranch is handy, an' Jack Plummer says to me last night He jes' stopped in to get a bite O' chicken pie he says, says he : "You ain't a day o'er twenty-three." But Jack is such a josher that He's allers talkin' thro' his hat. The other day Bill Howe drove by, An' said the cricks were jes' bank high, An' he'd a four-hoss load an' he Declared he'd leave some truck with mt , A sack o' flour an' some corn, A sack o' sugar which was torn, [33] Cowboy Lyrics Which Bill jes' vowed would go to waste Unless sweet things was to my taste. A week ago John Nye drove in His heart is big if he is thin He said he'd butchered an' he thought A side o' beef an' bacon ought To nohow meet with my re-fuse, Since he had more than he could use. An* there's Hank Dalley, ev'ry day He sort o' drops in that-o-way, To see if there's a chore to do, An* then jes' stays the whole day thro'; An' jes' flares up when I talk "pay," Fer Hank's right touchy, an' he'll say: "I haven't got a thing to do, It's exercise to work fer you." An' so between them all, you see, There's lots that's worser off than me; The ranch is clear, an' eggs an' truck Bring prices high, an' then I've luck With all my stock, that's bound to grow But yet there's one thing which I know, An' might as well say to your face, A man's most handy 'round a place; But William's gone an' there's no more Land sakes! There's Dalley at the door! [34] Ranch and Range THE CHUCK WAGON Cowpuncher's cafay, It is that-o-way, An' we strike it kerslam 'bout three times a day; When cook yells, "Come get it!" He don't have to plead, "Hi yip! all you logics, come gather your feed!" [35] Cowboy Lyrics BRANDING PEN GOSSIP Lem Scobey says to me one time, "I wouldn't give a meas'ly dime Per any man what throws a calf, An' gives that braggin' sort o' laff As if he thought there ought to rest A leather medal on his breast, B'cause he's got more stren'th than branes- Such swell-head dubs fill me with panes." Lem says, "I love a good cowpunch What does his work an' does not lunch On his conceit 'most all the while He's showin' off his muscle's style. '"Tennyrate," Lem adds to me, As we grabs one, "there ought to be A law agin such sort o' men A-ras'lin' in a brandin' pen; I'd like to see such would-be's fired, They surely makes me mighty tired," [36] Ranch and Range IN THE GUMBO No use to kick, no use to swear, Jes' go in camp an' settle there; Fer good old patience, this I know, Your other name is jes' gumbo. [37] Cowboy Lyrics HANK LAIMER'S KID Only youngun on the range, Cutest kid what is, Got us all upon his string, Put us out o' biz. Bring him presents from the town, Tickles him to death, Little cuss jumps up an' down 'Til he's out o' breath. Calls me "nuncle" an' his maw Says he loves me, too; Say, if I had one like him, Don't know what I'd do. Kids are great, I'm here to say, Greatest things what is, Get to love 'em an' they'll sure Put you out o' biz. Bring him presents from the town, Tickles him to death, Little cuss jumps up an' down 'Til he's out o' breath. [38] Ranch and Range ANIMAL RHYMES (Contributed to the Lariet Lyre by Willie Wes- tern, Age 10) THE COYOTE The coyote he's the smartest one, Arithmatick's his choice; He likes to set up late at nights An' multiply his voice. THE PRAIRIE DOG The prairie dog hain't got much sense, His manners are a shame; But don't find fault with him, b 'cause His parents are to blame. THE INDIAN The Injun he's a savage an' He likes to eat an' rest ; He wears some paint, a look o' scorn, An' thinks that he is drest. THE BRONCO The bronco likes to roam the wild, An' snort an' rip an' tear, An' kick a yard o' nothin' from The outside of the air. [39] Cowboy Lyrics THE BAD MAN I think a bad man curious, He shoots folks in a rage ; You never see him anywheres Except upon the stage. THE COWBOY The cowboy he's a funny man, As funny as can be, He smokes a millyun cigarettes But won't give one to me. THE TENDERFOOT The tenderfoot's the funniest Critter o' the plains, My paw says they is hooman, But they hasn't any branes. THE GIRL The girl is nice to look at, An' purty as the deuce, But my, she knows so little, She's hardly any use. THE PORCUPINE The porkupine is grate on jokes, He's a yoomerist like me; 'Most ev'rything he says is sharp An' pinted as can be. [40] Ranch and Range THE MAN OF THE RANCH My dad he's gone an' mammy sez, I be the man eroun' this place; But funny way she sez it, coz The tears des runned all down her face. They corned one day an' took my dad, An' 'n they upped an' driv away. "A-rustlin' stock ten years fer you," Is what I heerd one man des say. I be the man eroun' this ranch, But, oh, last night my mammy cried, 'N loved me like I wuz a kid, 'N helt me right up to her side. She sez it all is fer the best, An' 'at the Lord will sure pervide, 'N after while I goes to sleep, Des snuggled up to mammy's side. I be the man eroun' this ranch, My mammy sez so, an' you see, They dassent hurt her coz I guess They know that she belongs to me. But what fer duz she cry an' cry, An' why don't no one visit us? My dad he's gone an' I'm boss now, What be the use o' all this fuss? [41] Cowboy Lyrics TAMED Jim Shivers was the baddest man in the camp, b' jingo, Not a feller dast to give him a bit o' lingo; Up an' shoot? Well, I should say, an' he never tarried In his reckulous career 'til he went an' married. Now when Jim do say a word or do a bit o* tellin', Or gets his old time dander up an' has a fit o' yellin', His wife jes' says: "You great big clown! You jes' shut up an' you jes' set down !" An Jim does both. He's meek as any lamb you'd see, meekest sort o' critter, Any boy around the camp run him to a fritter; Never has a word to say, never does no gun- nin', Any shootin' goin' on all he does is runnin'. Jes' b'cause he's got a wife not afeerd to cross him, An' 'twould do you good to see that there woman boss him, [42] Ranch and Range An' hear her say: "You great big clown! You jes' shut up an' you jes' set down!" An' Jim does both. [43] Cowboy Lyrics SPRINGTIME ON THE RANGE Oh, it's gettin' onto spring, an' so let us up an' sing Of the greenin' of the prairies in the sun, An' the comin' of the birds an' the fat'nin' of the herds Start a tunin' up your voices ev'ry one. Oh, my! see the smilm' sky, winter's gettin' ready fer to slide, Air's some warmer, hain't it, say? Chinook, yes, an' breath o' May, An' crocuses along the Big Divide. Soon a feller hears an' sees blackbirds millin' in the trees, Soon the roses will bebloomin' fer the May. Oh, it's comin' don't you feel that it's gettin' time to peel All your winter ways an' sort o' sweetly say : Oh, my! see the smilin' sky, winter's gettin' ready fer to slide, Air's some warmer, hain't it, say? Chinook, yes, an' breath o' May, An' crocuses along the Big Divide. [44] Ranch and Range DOWN AT HALLER'S DANCIN' They's tunin' up the orchestray down at old Bill Haller's, He's the feller that they claim jes' beats all the callers In the country 'round fer miles old bow- legged feller ; Say, you ought to hear that cuss jes' get up an' beller: Balance all an' do-see-do, Rope her, tie her, let her go, Mill her 'round an' kiss her there, Prom'nade all, you know where. Choose your partners! H-m-m-m! well, yes, grab the next one after, 'Twont harm no thin' if you do shake the roof with lafter; Fer she's joy-time, whoop -hi -ree ! Come around a-prancin', Guess there's nothin' like the time down at Haller's dancin'. She's your true love, you can bet, There's no dead ones in that set! Lope her 'round an' squeeze her there, Prom'nade all, you know where. Hear them fiddles ! Hain't they great! SufT- rin' Land o' Lawdy! Ragtime, night time, high time, too, come a-steppin' gawdy, [45] Cowboy Lyrics Come a-sailin' down the line, whoop-a-lorum ! let her, Seems to me there's no thin' that makes a man feel better. Mornin' is a mile away, Never 'spect to hit the hay, She's a-waitin', wake up there! Prom'nade all, you know where. Hear old Haller, hear him now, all above the funnin', Jes' a-laffin', calling too, keeps the thing a- runnin', Round me up an' turn me loose! Let me go a-prancin', All I wants is jes' to yell down at Haller's dancin'. If you love her tell her so, Rope her, brand her, let her go, Round her up an' hold her there, Prom'nade all, you know where. [46] Ranch and Range A MORAL-LESS TALE (Poetic Contribution to the Lariet Lyre) She was a perfect lady And she rode the northern range, Being courted by a creature who was careful of his change; When he'd have to spend a dollar He would raise a weird, wild "holler," And grumble in a manner both uncouth and very strange. But this wise and perfect lady Who rode the northern range Had a mind in no way feeble or afflicted with the mange; So she sued for breach of promise This one Doubting Tightwad Thomas, And to pay her and the lawyers cost him cattle, ranch and range. There's no moral to this story Otherwise than it is true, Ladies now from east to westward seem to know a thing or two; Thus it is not talking madly When we observe quite gladly, Our ladies trot as swiftly as the best of them can do, [47] Cowboy Lyrics KICK OF THE RANCH HAND Dern my hide, I feel so lazy, Feel so stretchy, feel so dazy, An' the old, red day is dawnin', An' I'm layin' here an' yawnin', Thinkin' if I had a dollar, Like to see the man who'd holler, Or e'en dare to whisp'rin' say : "Get up, Jim, don't sleep all'day." What man is there in the land Has the trubbles of a hand? Go to bed at dark an' more, You gets up at half -past four; An' you pail 'bout forty-six Gosh -blamed cow-brutes, an' the tricks That they play an' put on you Jes' would make an angel stew. Honestly, I get so mad That sometimes I wish I had Power to jes' make one swipe, An' each kickin' cow-brute wipe Off this whirlin', jiggy earth, Fer 'twould give me scads o' mirth Honestly, I know it would Do me jes' a sight o'> good. [48] Ranch and Range An' there's pigs to slop an' feed ; Give the hosses what they need; See the chickens all are fed, An' the pigins overhead. An' there's water fer to bring From that singy-songy spring; An' there's wood to chop an' all This is done 'fore breakfast call. Then you hook the plow team on, An' go stragglin' thro' the dawn; Work an' work an' sweat all day, Work an' work an' work away. Dern my hide, I feel so lazy, Feel so stretchy, feel so dazy, An' the old, red day is dawnin', An' I'm layin' here an' ya-a-a-aw-nin', [49] Cowboy Lyrics A FRAGMENT (From the Facile Pen of the Editor of the Lariet Lyre) I never thunk a thought as yet, Some shinin' wisdom in a chunk, But what I finds some other yap That same old dreary thought had thunk. Some other yap in other days His care-worn intelleck had caught Upon the nail of hard luck then, An' jes' ripped out that same old thought. That same old thought the one I thunk Was mine an' by it set a store, Until I finds it had been sprung A thousand years or so before. [50] Ranch and Range BALDY JOE'S SIMPLE RHYME Oh, I know an old cowpuncher, an' they call him Baldy Joe, B'cause his hair is something which is absent, don't you know; An' he sits up in the saddle, sort o' lives there all the time, An' a-hummin' an' a-hummin' this here sim- ple little rhyme: There hain't no sense like a logie fer to set, 'Cause you think you hain't a-gettin' what you think you ought to get. So it's quit your jawin',keep a tight rein on your lip, An' brace yourself an' allers keep a-cinchin' up your grip. Joe is a queerish critter, he's a mighty funny man; Never has a speck of trubble an' you never, never can Hear him kickin' or complainin', 'cause he's happy all the time, Jes' a-hummin' that aforesaid an' quite simple little rhyme. [51] Cowboy Lyrics Been a-thinkin' an' a-thinkin' if the world was fashioned so, She'd tally with the hummin' of that happy feller Joe; She'd be a blamed sight better, get some bet- ter all the time, 'Cause there's a heap o' hoss sense in his simple little rhyme: There hain't no sense like a logie fer to set, 'Cause you think you hain't a-gettin' what you think you ought to get. So it's quit your jawin', keep a tight rein on your lip, An' brace yourself an* allers keep a-cinchin' up your grip, [52] Ranch and Range A COARSE LACK OF APPRECIATION I'm the sweetest sort o' singer, but 'most ev'ry time I sing, Some ig'rant man's remarkin', "Who choked that calf poor thing;" An' then the boys all leave me an' sadly drift away, When I sets up a-pealin' this here charmin' roundelay : Oh, Susan, you're my .trewest friend, I will not hold your hand, I will not tell you of my love, You would not understand You would not understa-a-a You would not understa-a-a-a-and. I hates to see my friends all leave an' "excuse me" never say, Shows 'preciation's lackin' of the fine arts that-o-way; Per when I sings serprano I cannot help it grieve, To see each son-of-a-gun get up an' leave so ca'mly leave. Oh, Susan, you're my trewest friend, I will not hold your hand, I will not tell you of my love, You would hot understand You would not understa-a-a You would not understa-a-a-a-and. [53] Cowboy Lyrics COWBOY'S SALVATION SONG Oh, it's move along, you dogies, don't be driftin' by the way, Per there's goin' to be a roundup an' a-cut- tin' out, they say, Of all the devil's rangers an' a-movin' at sun- rise, An' you'd better be preparin' fer a long drive to the skies. Oh, it's move along, you dogies, don't be drift- in' by the way, Fer the boss of all the rus'lers is a-comin' 'round today; So you better be a-movin', throw your dust right in his eyes, An' hit the trail a-flyin' fer the home ranch in the skies. So it's move along, you dogies, fer the devil has in hand A bunch of red-hot irons an' he's surely goin' to brand All his cattle an' some others, an' mighty sudden, too, So you'd better be a-movin' so he won't be brandin' you. [54] Ranch and Range Oh, it's move along, you dogies, tho' you have the mange o' sin, There's a range you're sure to shake it when you come a-trailin' in, Where the grass is allers growin' an* the water's allers pure, So it's sift along, you dogies, 'fore the devil brands you sure. [55] Cowboy Lyrics THE BOYS ARE COMIN' TO TOWN The boys are comin' to town, whoop la! What does the marshal do? He's gone an' hid, that's what he did, Fer he knows a thing or two Fer he knows a thing or two, yip, yip! Fer he knows a thing or two. The boys are comin' to town, ker bang! What does the dogs all do? They hits the trail with a canine wail, Fer they knows a thing or two Fer they knows a thing or two, ki yi! Fer they knows a thing or two. The boys are comin' to town, Oh, my! What does the old town do? She goes to bed while they paint'er red, Fer she knows a thing or two Fer she knows a thing or two, wow, wow! Fer she knows a thing or two [56] Ranch and Range A SUNSHINE SONG He sets on the side walk from mornin' 'til night, Singiir an' singin' an' singin', "What's the use fer to worry if today is all right?" Singin' an' singin' an' singin'. "Fer we hain't goin' to linger here so very long, So what yap will say that a feller's dead wrong, If he turns loose his voice in a joy-laden song?" Singin' an' singin' an' singin'. "It's a cinch when we dies we'll be dead fer some time," Singin' an' singin' an* singin', "So wh}' not enjoy all the things o' this clime?" Singin' an' singin' an' singin'. "Oh, why not jes' shed ev'ry trubble an' all, An' camp in the light 'til the dark shadders fall? She'll be night soon enuff, jes' you hark to my call," Singin' an' singin' an* singin', [57] Cowboy Lyrics THE WOULD-BE COWPUNCHER It's been out here a half a year, An' thinks that It is bad, But when we takes a look at It, Our weary hearts feel sad. It wears a gun 'most all the time, What fer we do not know, We asks no questions lest we makes Of ignerance a show. It uster be a sap-head clerk Down in old I-o-way, But now It is a ba-a-a-d cowpunch, So we have heerd It say. We often wonders if It is Of any earthly use, An* set around an' ask ourselves, "Whoever turns that loose?" It's been out here a half a year, An' thinks that It is bad, But when we takes a look at It, Our weary hearts feel sad. [58] Ranch and Range JIM DAVIS AND THE BICYCLE MAN Jim Davis is an old cowpunch (You certainly knows Jim?) So listen, boys, an' I will tell What happens unto him. He's drivin' beef herd into Miles, But 'fore he gets there meets A feller on a wheel an' then That beef herd surely beats The record fer the big stampedes An* Jim, I've heerd him say, Jes' sets right still fer quite a spell, To sort o' think an' pray. Then Jim gets off his bronco bird, An' seeks the bike man's life, Engagin' him, as poets say, In "bitter mortal strife." "I does not beat you 'cause you's scared Five hundred steers or more, 'Tis not fer that," says angry James, "I dabbles in your gore. It is b'cause I hates a fool, Weak product o' the town, Who's so blamed lazy that he walks Jes' walks a-settin' down." [59] Cowboy Lyrics JED WILLIAMS Know Jed Williams? Blamedest man You'll ever see or ever can; 'Pears like there's nothin' can disturb That critter in his ca'm perturb In viewin' things o' this here life, With nary hitch or fret or strife; Fer trubble gives him all the track, An* never once does she talk back. Jed craves terbacker fearful sight, Seems tho* he's got a appertite Fer eatin' it you never seed The man could beat him at the weed. No matter what or who you be, Be you yourself or be you me, If old Jed's 'round he's sure to say A-passin' o' the time o' day He'll say: "Fine weather, finest ever saw, How's your chewin'? Give us a chaw." Was thinkin' now when Jed's first wife Unhitched herself from this here life She's raised right here in this old town An' when they lets the coffin down, [60] Ranch and Range Old Jed jes' turned to me an' said He pays no 'tenshun to the dead Says he: "Fine weather, finest ever saw, How's your chewin'? Give us a chaw." Some day old Jed lays down his hand, An' seeks a strange but warmer land, Where the range boss is mighty mean, An' wears his tail ear-marked between. 'Spects then old Jed in his ca'm way Will size Nick up an* drawlin' say He'll say: "Fine weather, finest ever saw, How's your chewin'? Give us a chaw," [61] Cowboy Lyrics THE NIFTY COWPUNCHER Allers wears the finest duds ever you did see, What he owns the very best simply's got to be; An' his boots, well, place your bet, they take all the tricks, Made to order, high o' heel, 'bout a number six. As fer hat, he's sure there strong, best that coin can buy, White an' wide o' brim the same, crown a little high. Chaps, he likes the fancy kind, angorees the best, Spurs, well, jinglin' dreams! Oh, my! finest in the west; Gun, don't pack it much these days, han- dle's made o' pearl, Silver-plated forty-five, pretty as a girl. Belt is simply out o' sight, holster jes' the same, Never counts the cost, that boy, so he's in the game, [62] Ranch and Range Saddle, well, that cost a heap, pockets go with chaps, Per that outfit on the boards he a hundred slaps Hundred plunks it cost him, sure, that be the amount, But that saddle means his grub an' his bank account. So he rides across the range, yellin' some- what rude, Careless, reckless, nifty cuss, reg'ler prairie dude, [63] Cowboy Lyrics THE COWBOY AND THE STORK Bill Munson's wife was sick, you see, Old Bill he says that night to me: "Go get a doctor on the run," An' then I grabs that muckle-dun Out-law an' jams him forty mile, An' then I gets a gray a while, An' leaves him at the. lazy T, A-thinkin' some mean thoughts o' me. An' then I gets a roan an' he Was jes' a hoss I loves to see; He jes' strings out an' drags her down, An' soon we's siftin' into town. The Doc drives back an' now old Bill T'other day gives me a thrill The blamed old cuss he did, by gee! He names that kidlet after me, [64] Ranch and Range RANCH LULLABY Baby, won't you go to sleep? The dark is on an' your pa's gone, Little one, go to sleep; Baby, baby, what would you do, If a coyote jes' stoled you? Dearie, won't you go to sleep? Baby, won't you go to sleep? The pines do sing like everything, Little one, go to sleep; Baby, baby, jes' fly away Into Dreamland's shinin' day, Dearie, won't you go to sleep? Baby, won't you go to sleep? Ride to rest on your ma's breast, Little one, go to sleep; Baby, baby, your little hands Wave the trail to Sleepylands, Dearie, won't you go to sleep? [65] Cowboy Lyrics A TRIBUTE TO THE DOCTOR Oh, here's to the Doc, the good old Doc, An' the things he has done fer us, An' the miles he has rode thro' the winter storms, 'Thout makin' a bit o' fuss. An* here's to the Doc who worked an' watched, When he knew that old Death was near, An' the long, long nights an' the sleep that he lost, An* the way he ca'med our fear. Oh, here's to the Doc that stayed by us, We'd ride fer miles to shake his hand, Fer the sake o' them days, oh, them early days, That none but we understand. [66] Ranch and Range TO A COWBOY POET He rode a bronk he called Pegas', To Homer's some related, A hoss with wings to range the clouds, In manner plum* elated. He likewise packed a instrument, He called "the cheerful lyre/' An' from the same he'd rope a tune, An' sing his heart's desire. He never thought o' things mundane, No work he cared to foller, An' actoolly he never knew The value o' a doller. But when he crossed the Great Divide, An' to the skies went wingin', We found we missed him an' the songs That he was allers singin'. An' tho' we cl'ar fergot the place Where we the cuss had planted, Fer years an' years them songs o' his Our hearts have sort o' ha'nted. [67] Cowboy Lyrics POST MORTUM POLITENESS A cowpunch once shot up the town, And after that was done, A friend informed him that he'd winged A dudelet on the run. "You tell the tenderfoot," cried he, With large tears in his eyes, "If I have killed the blamed galoot, I now apologize/' [68] Ranch and Range JAWI1SP JANE Jawin' Jane gives me a pain, She's old Hank Biglow's wife, She's there an' over in the game Of wordy, mouthy strife. We names her "Jawin' Jane" an' she Would kill us if she knew, But Hank jes' grins an' looks so much Jes' like a Southdown ewe. Seems like the world is made jes' so, All things to mate jes' right, Fer if I'd Jane I'd sure get up An' choke her in the night. But Hank jes' grins that woolly grin, The worst you ever saw, Whilst that there female works an' works Her never-tirin' jaw. Jawin' Jane gives me a pain, She's old Hank Biglow's wife. She's there an' over in the game Of wordy, mouthy strife. [69] Cowboy Lyrics A COWBOY ON RELIGION The preacher man sometimes comes out, An' in the school house he do spout, 'Bout "fiery furnace" an' "black sin," An' souls he wants to "save an' win;" But somehow I don't like the game He spreads in manner meek an' tame, Fer I has thought my whole life long, I pays the bill if I do wrong; It may be years an' years until, But jes' the same I pays the bill. Now that the bill sure must be paid, Be blamed if I am much afraid; An* likewise I don't see that prayer An' standin' up with pious air, Can do away with that there bill, 'Cause 'til she's paid she surely will Stand on the books agin the cuss Who had the fun an' raised the fuss; Fer sayin', "I am saved;" don't kill The hard, cold fact, you owe that bill. I know I'm ignerant an' rough, An', speakin' truthful, somewhat tough; But jes' the same this fact there be, There's none to blame exceptin' me; [70] Ranch and Range So this sure puts you on the shelf: No one can save you but yourself. You plays the game your own sweet way, Regardless what the good folks say, An' if your hand you fails to fill, Why, you jes' smile an' pay the bill. [71] Cowboy Lyrics THE PAPER MAN (A Visit with the Handsome and Popular Editor of the Lariet Lyre) He has a press he jerks by hand, An' Fridays he will take his stand, An' let a kid roll on the ink To grease the type, an' then he'll think It's time to take a smoke, by jing! An' then he'll stop an' leave the thing, An' grab a corn-cob from somewhere, An* with his feet up in the air, He'll say, "Well, boys, how's stock an' feed? A little snow is what we need Much sickness out your way these times? I hear Miss Jones weds Billy Grimes, I lets their write-up front page take, They sends me chunk o' weddin' cake. An' poor old Cribs he upped an' died His 'bituary bucked an' pied But then I sets it up agin, A-speakin' of the home he'll win, An' all the virtoos that he had, Fergettin' nothin' but the bad You wants some papers? sure, you bet! Jes' help yourself, they's fresh an' wet No, takin' money is a bribe Unless you riggers to subscribe [72] Ranch and Range Oh, many thanks, I allers do Take honest joy in seein' you." An' then we leaves an' looks back at The paper man a-jerkin' that Old press, an' singin' cl'ar an' high, "We'll all be angels, by an' by." [73] Cowboy Lyrics LEM SCOBEY'S OPINION Lem Scobey says to me one day: "I'm feelin' tired that-o-way, About this wild west guff I reads, Them eastern papers locoed screeds. In the first place I'm here to tell, Real western men don't go an' yell To some news-sharp how they has killed Whole Injun tribes or how they's spilled The blood of forty men or more, An' that their reg'ler feed is gore. "Real western men don't give a cuss Fer paper praise nor do they fuss An' stand around a-lookin' mad An* hopin' someone thinks 'em bad. Nor do they gab in hot air free Long yarns o' what they uster be. The truest men, the kind that stay, Be them that has the least to say; Such-like are kind an' to the end, You'll find them stickin' to a friend. The papers don't ne'er hear o' these, The mouthy kind is what they sees The kind that need six mules an' all To simply pack around their gall. [74] Ranch and Range "Jes' let me tell you of a man None beat his nerve, none ever can Won't give his name, 'cause he would kick; But that won't stop me on this trick. Call him Dakota, jes' fer fun, You'll rope the idee when I'm done: Dakota, small an' sort o' sad, An' seems to me the feller had Girl-eyes an' freckles an' a smile That kept you thinkin' all the while That any little kid might tie To him, an' that he'd rather die, Afore he'd let one he'pless know Of pain or harm you bet, that's so. No bad man 'bout Dakota, tho', I can't jes' say he was so slow In any sort or kind of fight, Except his lips got thin an' white, An' after it was done he'd say: 'I'm sorry, boys/ an' walk away. An' it's a fact that right today, Dakota, good an' kind an' gray, Don't have a word to say to men, When on the corner, now an' then, Some paper man hogties him fast, To tell the world about his past. "An' that's the game, real western men Be the same now as they was then; Don't wear long hair nor buckskin things, Don't like the bluff that allers strings The paper ducks an' never's stint [75] Cowboy Lyrics On seein' his full name in print. True western men, the kind that stay, Be them that has the least to say; The true heart sort that ne'er discard Your friendship or your true regard; The kind a feller's free to love The kind the world hears nothin' of." [76] Ranch and Range BALLADE OF MISS SUSAN OTOOLE (Found in the Waste Basket of the Lariet Lyre Author Unknown) Miss Susan O'Toole hated men with a hate Some punchers bear water, you know; If one was a-comin' an' she seen him first, Right back to her ranch she would go. She talked woman's rights an' similar stuff, With all o' her fem-i-nine might, Per as a gab-artist Miss Susan took all The prizes that might be in sight. She tells the whole range o' this an' o' that, 'Til her jaw-agitation wore holes in her hat Fer Susan O'Toole Said she was no fool, Ner cared she a rap Fer no man or yap That ever wore chaps, Said Susan. She said there's a time that surely will come, When women will have all the say, When the last sinful man has give up the scrap, An' woman sweet woman holds sway. Then one fatal day a freak drifts along A freak with a string-halted voice, [77] Cowboy Lyrics An' head cl'ar bereft o' the truck known as branes, An' Susan grabs him as her choice. Affection long-smothered jes' breaks the crust, An' her heart is all his to keep or to bust Fer Susan O'Toole Was hit mighty crool, An' her piller she wet With some tears, you can bet, Fer she had it bad, Did Susan. One day they was spliced an' she treated him like An' angel jes' minus the wings; An' waited on him ev'ry jump in the road, An' thinks him the "sweetest o' things." Thus Susan O'Toole made Hen-i-ree Jones The very best sort of a wife, She supports him, loves him, an' happy as clams, They follers the long trail o' life. An' Susan's sweet voice never once spoke In its old-time contempt o' the sinful men- folk. Fer Susan O'Toole Had found a bright jewel, A masculine peach Jes' right fer her reach, An' she gathers him in, Did Susan. [78] Ranch and Range ADVICE FROM THE RANGE If you don't know how to smile To the people all the while; If you don't know how to hand Ev'ry feller in the land Jes' a little bit o' guff, Kind o' complimentary stuff, You'd Better Learn How. If you don't know how to do When old trubble's hittin' you; If you don't know how to take Ev'ry single keen heartache, An* jes' down it an' jes' lope To the shinin' camp o' hope, You'd Better Learn How. If you don't know all these things That a lifetime surely brings, All the tricks an' all the ways That'll make the darkest days [79] Cowboy Lyrics Full o' sunshine, full o' song, 'Til they fairly skip along, You'd Better Learn How. [80] Ranch and Range WHEN IT'S GETTIN' PLANTIN' TIME Did you ever feel that way, When warm weather's comin' on, An' you smell the green things growin' Thro' the dusk an' thro' the dawn? Jes' a sort o' stretchy feelin', With your thoughts all out o' rhj'me, Jes' a lazy, dazy feelin', When it's gettin' plantin' time. When it's gettin' plantin' time, An' the grangers sort the seed, An' the women start house cleanin', An* the blackbird's in the reed. Land-a-mighty! hain't you Igzy! Why, you're scarcely worth a dime, All the work you do is hardship When it's gettin' plantin' time. 'Drather go an' set an' lis'n To the curlews callin' there, 'Drather watch the sunbeams dancin' On the gleamy, glinty air. 'Drather lay back sort o' languid, 'Drather do most anything 'Sides workin', when it's gettin' Plantin' time along in spring, [81] Cowboy Lyrics SPRING (A Poem on a New Subject from the Lariet Lyre) Spring is here, And the brand-new calf Doth wobble 'round with mellow Laugh. The chickens cluck, And the glad, young bronco Snorting there, In all his mad delight doth try To kick the Scroll work Off The Sky, [82] Ranch and Range LET'S QUIT QUARRELIN' FER AWHILE Let's quit quarrelin' fer awhile, In this ornry kind o' style, Let's quit envy, hate an' all, Let the light o' heaven fall Into hearts that's dark an' dim, Thinkin' life's a mournful hymn; Sing a song brim o'er with joy, Like we sang as when a boy. Let us smile an' let's be gay, Let's quit quarrelin' fer to-day. Let's quit quarrelin' fer awhile, Let's shake hands an' let us smile; Let's not think a single thought That we really hadn't ought. Let us play the friendship card, Let us have a kind regard Fer how other folkses feel; Let us quit this envy deal. Let's jes' live an' let's be gay, Let's quit quarrelin' fer to-day. [83] Cowboy Lyrics WHEN A MAN HAS MONEY Friends a-smilin' ev'rywhere, Weather lookin' mighty fair; Skies a soft an' tender blue, Birds a-singin' songs to you. "Hello there/' an' "mornin' Bill," How their eyes with gladness fill, How they grab your hand an' shake, How they bid you come an' take Something wet an' hot with them, Jes* to loosen up the flem In your throat, fer 'tis so, Such like favors count, you know, When a man has money. Don't the world look bright an' fine, In her gown of sun an' shine? Hain't she smilin' sweet an' pert, Like a reg'ler little flirt? Don't the glad hands to you reach? Don't they holler, "you're a peach?" Don't luck come jes' on the whirr, When you hain't a-needin' her? Don't things come, oh, don't they, say, Come a-nmnin' down your way? Don't it seem an easy game, Pilin' up some more the same, When a man has money? [84] Ranch and Range A COWBOY FATALIST Oh, I don't care if it's rain or shine, Or whether she's ca'm or blows; An' I don't think 'tis fault o' mine If it don't or if it snows. Fer I don't want to even think Or care which way I'm bound, But jes' keep a-smilin' an' lettin' things slide, An* keep on a-driftin' around. Oh, I don't care if the whole works set, Or whether they moves ahead; Or what we're goin' to do or get When we're gone fer keeps an' dead. Fer I don't want to even think Or care which way I'm bound, But jes' keep a-smilin' an' lettin' things slide, An' keep on a-driftin' around. Oh, I don't care what other folks say, Or what in me they sees; Fer each man's free to think his way, An' do as he dern please. An' I don't want to even think Or care which way I'm bound, But jes' keep a-smilin' an' lettin' things slide, An* keep on a-driftin' around. [85] Cozvboy Lyrics THE OLD COWMAN I'm not so young as I uster be, I'm somewhat gray an' wrinkledy, An' I wear my hat my old white hat On the back o' my neck on a roll o' fat. An' I don't ride much like I uster, tho', I'm not so dog-goned gumbo slow When it comes to bronks, but yet I'll say, A buggy fer mine 'most any day. But my heart is young, oh, my heart is young, An' she sings the songs like she allers sung: Dealin' fair an' dealin' square, An' findin' friendship everywhere; An' never a fear does she let slide, Fer the day when I cross the Great Divide. Old pards are gone no use to care, They've rode the trail to Overthere; But I'll see 'em agin, well, I should shout! To jes' shake hands fer all get out! I've no regrets an' that's no lie, A white man's never afeerd to die; Old age an' death has got to be, An', by the gods, they don't scare me! [86] Ranch and Range HOLOWAY Holoway, that is his name, Guess he hain't much known to fame, Lived around these hills a few, Been to Californy, too, Got a ranch jes' down the crick, An' a cabin clean an' slick; Fer an old batch, Holoway 'Sneater than a pin, they say. But that hain't a mark to the kindness o' him or a mark to what he can do, If you happen around with a case of the blues that's eatin' the heart out o' you; Tis then that he'll up an' bust you kerbang a slap on the back an' he'll say: "What's the use o' your mopin', you might better smile, 'cause you looks a lot sweeter that way." Holoway, yes, Holoway, Hair an' beard a-turnin' gray, But his heart is jes' as young As when all his boyhood sung. Yes, his heart is jes' as true, Got the same bright hopin', too, All these days that you an' me Fret into eternity. [87] Cowboy Lyrics But that hain't his style, fer he allers has said, ''What's the use fer to fuss any- way? What's past is sure gone an' you might bet- ter live fer the smiles you can gather today;" An 5 then he will up an' he'll bust you ker- bang a slap on the back an' he'll say : "What's the use o' your mopin', you might better smile, 'cause you looks a lot sweeter that way," [88] Ranch and Range A LITTLE AX TO GRIND (Pessimistic Poem from the Caustic Pen of the Editor of the Lariet Lyre) The world's plum' full o' people who nail your hand an' smile, An' greet you in the warmest an' the glad- dest kind o' style; While they make quick calculations on your humble little pile, An' lay their plans to grab it in the joyous afterwhile, 'Cause they has a little ax to grind. Politicians an' them roosters what love official pap, From the boss down to the cringin' an' the confidential yap, Approach you an' administer your back a hearty slap. An' put your bump o' caution in a sweet an' gentle nap, When they has a little ax to grind. Women, lov'ly women, fair as the dawn o' day, Be oft the very angels what make the strongest play; [89] Cowboy Lyrics Fer they praise your worldly wisdom in a sweet an' gentle way, An' you thinks you's back in Eden when she springs her charmin' say, When she has a little ax to grind. 'Most ev'ry day some sucker gets the keen point o' the gaff, An' likewise gets the meller an' the gay equestrian laff; One half o' all the people wants to work the other half, An' taffy is o' this here life the only, only staff, When you has a little ax to grind. [90] Ranch and Range A WORD FROM SHORTY Says Shorty Smith: "It seems some strange That Cupid rides Affection's range, Expectin' sure to make a hit Armed with a Injun buck outfit. Fer by the way the cards are laid, An' alimony now is played, I wouldn't think the god could beat her Unless he packed a Colts' repeater, [91] Cowboy Lyrics DANCE, YOU PUNCHERS, DANCE Oh, whoop it up an' let's be gay. It's a long time now 'til break o' day; So fer a good time get a hunch, An' cut your girl from out the bunch An' say You may Start them fiddles right away, An' Jiggin' Finn With his 'cor'din Will do, the rest, so all join in, An* pound the floor with your high-heeled boot, An' swing your granger girl so cute, An' dance, you punchers, dance. Oh, lips are sweet an' eyes are bright, Tis sparkin' time fer all tonight; So lope along an' do your best, An' cut right in an' lead the rest. An' say You may Start them fiddles right away, An' Jiggin' Finn With his 'cor'din Will do the rest, so all join in, [92] Ranch and Range An' pound the floor with your high-heeled boot, An' swing your granger girl so cute, An' dance, you punchers, dance. There's drink an' fodder fer you-all, My land-o'-goodness ! hear that call ! The set's a-formin' ! Cut loose now ! An' show them bashful fellers how An' say You may Start them riddles right away, An' Jiggin' Finn With his 'cor'din Will do the rest, so all join in, An' pound the floor with your high-heeled boot, An' swing your granger girl so cute, An* dance, you punchers, dance, [93] Cowboy Lyrics DOC PIERCE'S WAY Speakin' of Doc Pierce's way, I've often heerd that old duck say He'd rather be hisself than all The millyunaires that he could call To mind. 'Cause money made or stole or lent, Don't never bring no man content. Doc says he'd rather be a-settin' back A-smokin' in his Black Hills shack An' visitin' with his friends than be The big High Squeeze of In-die-ee. "This thing of cuttin' so much ice, An' bein' proud, stuck-up an' nice," Says Doc, "don't get no game with me; I simply truly want to be Myself an' face the music to the end An' never be without a friend." Doc's great on friendship, that I know, He laughs at every joke I show To him, as if the thing I told Was not so dog-goned stale an' old 'Twould make the spirit of sweet mirth Go chase itself from off the earth. [94] Ranch and Range That's why I'm proud to stand an' say, Doc's long on friendship that-o-way; Fer friendship him will allers bring An' make him suffer anything. Doc looks at folks what put on airs, An' pass out frozen-featured stares, With such contempt he jes' can't speak Jes' shoves his pipe into his cheek, An' one eye at the ceilin' winks, An' sort o' thinks jes' sort o' thinks. You don't know Doc? well, Doc don't care, Altho' you'd be most welcome there Out there in them old solemn hills But Doc don't get no sudden thrills On meetin' folks a-tourin' West, Doc says old friends are allers best. You see, it's hard to understand Us people of the western land; We've been out there so dog-goned long We never sing our friendship song In front of folks,, like Injuns did, We make our heart camps fire-hid. Doc says to me not long ago : "There's jes' some things I seem to know, There's not much to this worldly game Of trailin' fortune or bright fame. [95] Cozvboy Lyrics I want a pipe, a fireplace an' all My real, real friends in easy call; An' then the bill I surely fills, I'd love to loaf around these hills." An' down here in this roarin' town, With trolleys grindin' up an' down, An' people walkin' over me No stampede's loco as they be I say I yell with all my might : Old Doc is right he's jes' dum right I [96] Ranch and Range A LIGHT JOKE Tho' in a bunk house on a ranch, No 'lectric lights are present, We slaps a candle in a can, An' calls it in-can-des'ent. An' if you jes' must know the rest, You might as well look pleasant, An' laff like blazes when we names Our light a tin-can-des'cnt [97] Cowboy Lyrics THE OLD COWBOY'S COMPLAINT I stands first guard an' let the kids sleep, They sure is a bunch o' logics, An' with my beautiful alto voice, I mesmerize the dogies. I stands last guard an' lets the kids sleep, Let 'em rest, the blamed free-lunchers ! They rides a mile on a rockin' hoss, An' thinks they is cowpunchers. I stands first guard an' I stands last guard, An' rolls some cirgarooties, An' makes to myself some pure remarks, 'Bout them there sleepin' beauties. Oh, it's been a stretch of thirty year, Since first I roped an' threw 'em, An' I'm here to state the west's plum' out Of punchers like I knew 'em, [98] ON THE TRAIL OF LOVE Girl of the brown eyes, the clear eyes, the dear eyes, What would you do for me, love. For me, love, for me, love!. Pd follow you the long trail thro', My fears for you, my tears for you, For you, love, for you, love. Boy of my dreams, my whole dreams, my soul dreams, What would you do for me, love, For me, love, for me, love? Fd shelter you the long trail thro', My care for you, my share for you, For you, love, for you, love. [101] ON THE TRAIL OF LOVE THAT THERE GIRL It's that there girl 'most all the time, Per workin' I hain't worth a dime; An' jes' can't turn around or stir Without some foolish thought o' her. Can scarcely sleep or eat my chuck Dog-gone the luck! I guess I'm stuck! [103] Cowboy Lyrics SPEAKIN' OF HER EYES Speakin' of her eyes, well, they makes me Jes' 'bout as batty as can be; An' tho' fer sleep I surely plays, I stays awake an' thro' a haze I sees the baby laugh that lies A-loafin' 'round her eyes her eyes. An' then I walk an' smoke an' fret, It hain't no use, I can't ferget. [104] On the Trail of Love THEM HEAP BIG THOUGHTS It seems to me some passin' strange, When Love rides 'cross a feller's range, He thinks of thoughts a wholesale store, Such thoughts he never thought before : Them heap big thoughts, as Injuns say, Of life an' death an' music gay, An' flags an' crowds an' flashin' things, An' then sometimes he backward springs To thoughts o' mountains big an' high, Where giants set an' watch the sky At sunset grand an' great an' still, An' all the world seems dreamin' 'til He looks around to hear this call : "You're jes' in love, my boy, that's all." [105] Cowboy Lyrics THAT SCRUB 'Twas jes' at dark on Friday last I see her go a-ridin' past With that there survey outfit scrub, That, sickly-lookin' four-eyed dub What Uncle Sam has sent out here To drift around an' interfere With other folks' affairs an' such She needn't think that he's so much! He'll keep a-triflm' 'round, he will, Until some one will sort o' fill His tender hide plum' full o' lead Some folks look better when they's dead. [106] On the Trail of Love SHE WRITES A NOTE She writes a note, it starts, "Dear Boy," That surely hobbles me with joy; An* then she says she wonders why I stays away, an' then, well, I Jes' saddles up an' hits the trail An' thanks my stars fer U. S. mail. An' at the gate she's waitin'; say, She takes my hat an' there I stay That survey scrub ? He wins no bets ! The son-of-a-gun I plum' fergets! [107] Cowboy Lyrics HER HANDS As to her hands, say, they's sure fine; One time she let them lay in mine All soft an' clingy-like they were, Them little velvet hands o' her; An' once she set my heart apace By pressin' one agin my face. On heaven -talk I hain't much flush, Nor is I long on love-sick slush, But still I'll say her little hand Can pint the trail to Happy Land. I wish sometimes I'd have a fight, An' not get killed, but shot up right; Not bad, you know, jes' middlin' worse, Jes' so I'd have to have a nurse. An' then she'd come an' look that sad, 'Twould make me feel all-fired glad; An' then it drifts to me somehow, She'd lay her cool hand on my brow, An' let me right here rise an' tell, I'd die of joy or I'd get well, [108] On the Trail of Love CONFIDENTIAL When her arms drift 'round my neck, An' her head's agin my breast, Seems to me the whole creation Sort o' faints or takes a rest. When she camps upon my knee, An' her cheek's agin my face, Hain't no round-up boss of glory But what's wishin' fer my place. Speakin' private, when she kisses, With a little, catchy breath, I jes' die an' blamed glad of it One sweet, temporary death, [109] Cowboy Lyrics TO DANCE WITH HER To dance with her rounds-up such bliss, I can't rope words to half explain; It's so blamed sweet it seems to be A second cousin to a pain. She drifts an' leans agin my arm Sweetheart an' dreams an' music fine If anything is better, say ! I'd choke with joy if it was mine. [110] On the Trail of Love SPEAKIN' OF ARMS I uster think that arms was made To jerk a bronk or throw a rope; But now I knows such talk is what Them editors ear-mark as dope. It's funny, but it seems these arms, Tho' long, don't over-reach a bit, An* tho' she'd never tried 'em on, I jes' be cussed if they don't fit. An' since I've met her things has changed, These arms won't stand fer such abuse As fightin' bronks or ras'lin' calves, B 'cause they's got a sweeter use. An' all I has to say is this : All future toil I surely shirk, Since fer these arms I've better use Than mere degradin' common work. [111] Cowboy Lyrics THE TRYST I've ridden since the day thro wed back The trailers of the night, An' what fer, shall I tell you, In a stampede o' delight? To wait out by the cottonwoods, An' dove -call softly to A girl I know will answer: "I'm a-comin', boy, to you." 'Twas no time to spare my bronco; His breathin' spells were brief; He's white with foam an' shakin' Like the Chinook shakes the leaf. Fer I've splashed thro' muddy rivers, An' loped across divides, An' ridden where no puncher In his reason ever rides. Thro' wallers caked with gumbo, The buffalo once knew; Thro' water holes an' washouts, An' a-boggin' in the slew. O'er alkali an' sage brush flats I cut the whistlin' breeze, An' come straight as the eagle When his lady bird's to please. [112] On the Trail of Love I'm a-watchin' an' I'm waitin' With heart as light as air, As happy as they make 'em, Either here or anywhere. Jes' to listen fer her footfall, An' hear her sweet voice thro' The prairie silence murmur, "I'm a-comin', boy, to you." [113] Cowboy Lyrics JES' A-FOOLIN' She says to me, "I wish you would Jes' quit all time a-teasin' me, From morn 'til night it seems that you Won't fer a minit let me be. Go 'way now, feller, let me 'lone, I never liked you much nohow;" But say, she laffs when she says that She's jes' a-foolin', I'll allow. I goes to see her Sunday night ; She allers says she doesn't care If I don't come, but why has she Them bran '-new ribbins in her hair? An' why's she got her best dress on? Jes' tell me that an* tell me now; But still she claims she doesn't care Still jes 1 a-foolin', I'll allow. T'other night I tells her straight I loves her, an' you ought to see That little flirt jes' tip-toe up An' give the sweetest kiss to me Ah-m-m-m ! 'twas sweet, but still she says She doesn't like me much nohow, An' then she'll laff an* squeeze my hand Still jes' a-foolin', I'll allow. [114] On the Trail of Love REAL AFFECTION If I could say the words I think, My tongue with overwork would bust; I'd make old Shakespeare rise an' say: "What varlot now disturbs my dust!" If I would do the things which I Am simply achin' to perform, I'd rope the lightnin' an' I'd jerk The terror from the blindin' storm. I'd use a comet fer a bronk, An' ride him stuck-up like an' proud; My spurs would be a pair of stars, My blanket jes' a fleecy cloud. I'd roundup all the planets an' I'd do it sudden, sure an' soon, An' then I'd set back ca'm an' w r atch Them mill around the helpless moon. I'd do all this an' maybe more, Pervidin' that I thought it would To this here busted heart of mine Do any sort of passin' good. I'd do it all an' take a chance To hold the trail thro' Afterwhile, If she would throw me jes' one word An' tie it up with one sweet smile. [115] Cowboy Lyrics A COWBOY'S RESOLUTION I holds a tight rope on conviction, Determination's ever been my style, An' to tie an* brand a resolution, 'Most any day I'd run a dozen mile. I am that set in my opinion, A mule is like a rabbit a-side me, There hain't no use to try persuasion, Fer what I say has simply got to be. There hain't no livin', breathin' woman Can make me-jump or hang upon her word; No skirt what's flirty or uncertain Can ever hope to cut me out the herd. I've said she'd have to quit her triflin', An' 'til she did no pictured olive branch She writes me notes on foolscap paper Would make me ever even cross her ranch. Of course on Sunday nothin's doin', An' really I've some business with her dad, So I'll happen in jes' fer to see him (I wonder if she is a-feelin' sad?) I holds a tight rope on conviction, Determination's ever been my style, An' to tie an' brand a resolution, 'Most any day I'd run a dozen mile, [116] On the Trail of Love BASHFULNESS Oh, say, I'd like to tell her That I love her like the breeze Loves the leaves, or like the sunshine Loves the whisp'rin' cotton trees; Like the water loves the pebbles, Singin' soft an' singin' low, But when I starts to tell her I jes' Don't know. Oh, say, I'd like to tell her That I love her like the smile Loves her face, or like the dimples Love her sweet mouth all the while ; That I love an' love an' love her Better than my life, but tho' When I starts out to tell her I jes' Don't know, [117] Cowboy Lyrics TRAIL SONG Little girl, back in the town, Be you a-lovin' me? Little girl, back in the town, Be you a-lovin' me? Uster think the dawns was fine, With their colors all a-shine, 'Til I seen your eyes, Lu-lee, Smilin', laffin' back at me. Uster think the lilies tall, Of all flowers passed 'em all, 'Til I seen you standin' there With the sunshine on your hair. Uster to dream o' that Great Camp, When I'd watch the heaven's lamp Light the whole wide range o' blue; Now I'm dreamin' jes' o' you. Little girl, back in the town, Be you a-lovin' me? Little girl, back in the town, Be you a-lovin' me? [118] On the Trail of Love AN' A TWO-STEP'S WHAT THEY PLAY A little queen in calico, Her smiles them killin' smiles Be jes' some o' a thousand Of her wicked ways an' wiles; An' she's the smoothest dancer 'Most anywhere you'll see, An' you ought to see her two-step, La-de-da, along with me. Oh, she's light as any feather, The music's simply fine, An' I jes' get plum' loco When her face is close to mine. Fer my heart is thinkin' something My lips don't dast to say, When she leans agin my shoulder An' a two-step's what they play. I could dance with her ferever, Wisht we never 'd get thro', 'Cause Time jes' takes a lay-off, An' reason quits work, too. Seems ev'rything has ended, Fer a spell f ergot to be, When they plays a two-step sweetly An' she drifts away with me. [119] Coivboy Lyrics PARTIALITY You can sing about the glory Of the summer sunset skies, But I will keep a-hummin' 'Bout the glory of her eyes. You can sing about the roses, But roses can't compare To this little granger maiden With some ribbin in her hair. You can sing about the lilies, Jes' as pure as purest snow, But I'll jes' keep a-hummin' 'Bout a fairer flower, tho'; A purer, sweeter flower Than the lily bendin' there, Jes' a little granger maiden With some ribbin in her hair. All you poets sing o' beauty In the flowers, skies an' streams, But I'll jes' keep a-hummin' 'Bout one girlie in my dreams; 'Cause I think my subjeck's sweeter Think I sing a sweeter air, 'Cause it's all about a maiden With some ribbin in her hair. [120] On the Trail of Love A ROMANCE OF THE RANGE She's been out here a-teachin' this winter now that's past, An' I hears that she's a-tellin' that it's jes' about her last That she's goin' to quit the schoolroom an' goin' home to stay An' somehow I'm jes' hatin' fer to see her go away. Fer us fellers think that schoolmarm is an angel; yes, we do A little blue-eyed angel, yet a woman thro' an' thro'; An' she treats us all so kindly, jes' the same 'most ev'ry day, That somehow I'm jes' hatin' fer to see her go away. She hain't never give me reasons fer to think I'd have a show To win her, but I'm honest when I say I like her so That I dread her time fer goin', count ev'ry passin' day, 'Cause I'm hatin', jes' a-hatin', fer to see her go away. Well, her term is 'bout completed an', say, I don't think I Have got the nerve to greet her fer to say a last goodby; [121] Cowboy Lyrics Seems so tough! Oh, well, I'm feelin', call it heartsick, if you may 'Cause I'm hatin', jes' a hatin', fer to see her go away. LATER Oh, say, I'm 'bout as happy as a feller wants to be; Went to see her an', by glory, she jes' upped an' cried you see ! An* right there I had to say it, what so long I've feerd to say, An' now we've gone an' fixed it so she'll never go away. [122] On the Trail of Love AN ODE TO THE SLOW HORSE Oh, now that sleyin' time is here an' weather is jes' boss, I likes to take her drivin' with the tamest kind o' hoss. I wants no prancin' bronco that makes a sudden dive, An' r'ars an' t'ars hisself in two, But one That she Can drive. I wants a bronk what knows his biz an' minds it to the chalk; I wants a bronk can pass the rest, yet slow down to a walk When I has got my arms engaged, while hearts from bustin' strive; I wants a bronk, that kind o' bronk, That kind That she Can drive. When sparkin' nights an' sleyin' nights an' moonlight nights are here, An' she an' I are tryin' fer to snuggle close an' near, [123] Cowboy Lyrics I wants a bronk what pokes along an' lets our hearts revive On Love's own joy behind a bronk, A bronk That she Can drive. [124] On the Trail of Love TRUE LOVE Oh, true love don't ne'er stampede at what folks think or say, An' ridicule jes' simply spurs him on; You can pitch an' r'ar an' jolt, but when once he gets a holt, You might as well admit that you is gone. I'm free to mention that she's a lady workin' at The very best hash foundry in the town; I'm here to likewise say that fer sweet an' winnin' way, The best of them can't hope to call her down. There's the "400" here what sniffle some an' sneer, An' think ace high above her they stand scored, 'Cause she's packin' Irish stew to a famine- stricken crew Or shootin' vulgar biscuits 'cross a board. When roundup's thro' an' done, I rides back here on the run She waits on one star boarder after that; I'm certain that-o-way an' I stakes my life she '11 say: "Jes' wait until I gets my Sunday hat," [125] Cowboy Lyrics What's that? You seem to scout a little cloud o' doubt, An' figgers that perhaps she'll pass me by; But it's ignerance makes you take that pes- simistick view Don't she allers give me SECONDS on the pie? [126J On the Trail of Love TIME'S HEAVY HAND She was jes' a little granger an' her folks lived on Elk crick, Jes' a little dark-eyed granger, but she allers drest that slick You'd think she'd caught the fashion from the ladies o' the town, 'Specially when buggy-ridin' in her Sunday- meetin' gown. Uster take her 'way out drivin' on a Sunday, don't you know, But I'd let her do the drivin', fer I liked it better so; An' then my arm would circle huh, she'd pertend to frown The place what was the smallest in her Sunday-meetin' gown. Starlight, yes, an' prairies dreamin', cotton- woods a-sighin' there, An' the wind a sort o' triflin' an' a-foolin' with her hair; An* a ribbin on my shoulder or a strayin' curl o' brown, An' her heart a-beatin' gently 'gin her Sunday- meetin' gown. [127] Cowboy Lyrics Uster kiss her huh, well, sort o' when the moon got back a cloud, An' she'd pout her lips pertendin' she was mad an' then aloud She'd laff an' fix her ribbins, fer at times such things come down When a girl goes buggy-ridin' in her Sunday- meetin' gown. Goodness my ! but time's skeedaddled; jes' a-driftin' that-p-way, I'm bald-headed gettin' worser ev'ry single passin' day; An* mother, oh, well, mother busts the scales up in the town, An' she's made herself a necktie of that Sunday-meetin' gown On the Trail of Love PLATO DISPUTED When two folks love each other it hain't no earthly use Per hide-bound criticism to hand out cold abuse, Fer nature has 'em hobbled, that's what, my turtle dove, 'Cause there's no such place as a Half-way House Upon the Trail of Love. Lady-bird, I wants to tell you, tell you glad an' free, That old duck named Plato was wrong as wrong can be; As sure as there's a roundup on the great range above, There's no such place as a Half-way House Upon the Trail of Love. You ride the trail to the finish, go lopin' right along, An' never stop to question if it be right or wrong; You spurs your bronco forward an' backward reason shove, 'Cause there's no such place as a Half-way House Upon the Trail of Love. [129] Cowboy Lyrics WHEN SHE GOES TO GET THE MAIL She hain't got any dimunds nor a rustlin' lot o' silk, Never uses them cosmetics, never bathes her face in milk; But she's jes' a little chicken livin' out there by the trail, That a feller meets a Sunday when she goes to get the mail. When she goes to get the mail An' the sunset's gettin' pale, An' the grass is like a carpet 'Long the old Pactola trail. Freckles, yes, but lips of honey; nose turns up a bit, I guess, An* there's jes' a scad o' patches in her little homely dress; But I'd rather, rather have her than most others that I know, B'cause, well, honest Injun, jes' b'cause I love her so. When she goes to get the mail, Allers meet her without fail, Jes' to ride home in the twilight On the old Pactola trail. [130] On the Trail of Love Left her one night lookin' back with the tear- shine in her eyes, An' her voice was sort o' trembly like most women's when they cries; An' I've ranged the dreary country from the start to ev'ry where, But somehow I'm allers thinkin' that I left my heart back there. When she goes to get the mail, Girl, I'll never, never fail Fer to love an' long to see you On the old Pactola trail. [1311 Cowboy Lyrics THE PRINCESS OF DESIRE Lem Scobey, of the Flying V, Tells out the tale one night to me, Of Sheriff Ben, the lad an' her, An' the Ralton gang of Sinneber. Said Scobey, gazing at the fire, "We names her Princess of Desire, B 'cause we figgers some that she Was 'bout as perfect as they be; An', bein' so, 'twas certain she Was member o' the royalty In that there state o' Sweet Desire, Where Love is king an' no one higher. "She comes to camp one ba'my day, An' a pale-like lad hung that-o-way Along her trail, you'd think she had A mortgage on that self -same lad. That boy jes' idolized her, too, 'Cause 'fore he come he'd jes' pulled thro' A fierce old bleedin' at the lungs 'Most thought he'd clim' the Golden Rungs. Then she jes' packs him, kit an' all, An' comes to Lariet that fall. He loves her strong, the boy sure did An' we o' such-like was not rid Not brother love but gen-u-wine Old 'Achin' Heart' an' 'Ever Thine/ [132] On the Trail of Love "Her folks was dead an' she had come To dabble 'round in cattle some, An' 'side from lookin' after wealth Was standin' guard o'er that kid's health. "She uster set there on the step O' the hotel, whilst others slept, An' softly talk to them what staid An' hung around her half -afraid, Like moths all singed with candle-flame What still set in an' play the game. An* then she'd say to Brother Jim To get her wraps, an' then the slim Kid would burn the trail so rabbit -fast You'd think he thought it was the last Sure chance to win some sweet smiles fer A-hangin* on the word o' her. "With men, her lov'ly face an' form Would start a reg'ler blindin' storm Of feelin' that which chokes a man I say, old pard, soft ringers can Bind more than chains or bars or bolts, Or any kind o' man-made holts. "She uster make me sort o' think Of tiger lilies on the brink Of some cool stream, where fairies played, Or little children laffin' strayed. An' then agin it seemed to me Her eyes helt all the mystery That this old world has ever known [133] Cowboy Lyrics Jes' like you feel when all alone Out on the range at dead o' night, When spirits whirl in locoed flight, An' all is still an' shadders crawl, An' things grow grand an' great an' tall; An' in the dark your bare soul lies, An' God jes' reads it with his eyes. To see her was to sure release Your everlastin' holt on peace ; To hear her voice meant Love to spring Up in your heart a restless thing; An' in your dreams she'd smile an' you Would give your life if it was true. "Of course, we all gets dreamin' some To 'most all men such dreams will come An' now I hain't ashamed to say The Princess smiled my heart away. But one night I jes' rights it out, An' gets my senses back about. I ? Why, matin' with a shinin' star, I stands more chance by ten times far. An' so I plays unto the end With her a plain, outspoken friend; But 'twas a lie that hurt like sin, But still Love's great if you don't win. "But Sheriff Ben was hopeless hit, An' oftentimes he uster sit With her o' moonlight nights, an' she Would talk to him, an' he, well, he Would jes' grow pale with pure delight [134] On the Trail of Love It was a cinch he had it right An' scarcely say a word or speak, But looks into her eyes as meek As any child. Yet this here Ben Was a rip-snorter out with men. He had gray eyes an' when he spoke 'Twas gener'ly from out the smoke Of his old six-guns; when he turned Them loose, then gray eyes burned An' got like little pints o' steel, An' no man cared their glance to feel. Big chest, thin flanks an' quickness that Was like a high-strung mountain cat Yet with the Princess he was like A little child, an' oft we'd pike To Big Pete's Place an' leave Ben there, A-courtin* of his lady fair. "Don't know jes' how it happened then, But seems she was a-stringin' Ben Jes' playin' him as fishers play A fish they know can't get away; Jes' passin' time away fer fun With Ben's true heart all cinched an' won. Of course, us fellers see it hard, But dassent lend a helpin' card; Fer well we knows that Ben would drag His bunch o' guns an' surely bag The gent what spoke a word o' her, Or jingled e'en a warnful spur In front the Bronk o' Love persuiri' The reckless trail to lastin' ruin. [135] Cowboy Lyrics "You 'members when the Raltons gay Holds up the mail one late fall day To grab that gold fer eastern lands Into their hungry, lovin' hands? Then Ben jes' saddles up an' rode Up front the Princessus' abode. She laffed an' wished him scads o' luck, An' her white fingers at him shuck, An' said, 'Tomorrow night, a week, Bring me the Raltons, Mister Meek/ Poor Ben, with heart all strung up fine, Chokes back Love's words an' ties a line Around his gauntlet, mindless-like, Then says, 'Goodby, I takes a hike; Alone I brings the Raltons in; I stay out there or else I win ; I takes my pris'ners 'lone,' he said, 'An' if I can't well, some one's dead.' But she jes' laffs an' leaves Ben there, As if she did not have a care If Death fer him some suddin knocks Say, woman's sure a paradocks. "Not that her tears would helt him back From off o' Duty's shinin' track, But had she flashed Love's sign to Ben, He'd never'd been so reckless then. He'd took us fellers 'long an' we Would make short work o' hold-ups three ; But man's fool pride an' woman's way Let Death play winner on that day, [136] On the frail of Love "We knows Ben's style an' knows he would Make ev'ry word he says stand good, An', knowin' there was three hard men To one, we ups an' f oilers Ben. By layin' low an' hangin' back An* trailin' up his bronco's track Which then at times grows mighty dim We 'lows to keep in reach o' him. Fer if he'd sight us, sure, he'd come An' turn us spraddlin' back fer home. 'I takes my prisoners 'lone,' he said, 'An' when I can't well, some one's dead.' "The next day out we slips up to Three trails, an' one a-windin' thro' We spots as Ben's, an' Billy Bawn Locates Ben's boots, the spurs are on, An* in some trees we starts his hoss The painted one he names 'Old Boss' Half-dead fer water, then beyun' We sees where he'd the fight begun. "He gets two men the first thing done, An' then the third one jerks his gun An' let's Ben have it in the chest, An' Ben comes back his very best An' there the four o' 'em lay still, An' o' that sight I gets my fill, An' goes away fer quite a spell, Queer feelin' that, I'm here to tell. [137] Cowboy Lyrics "You see, Ben'd slipped up quiet-like, An' 'fore they could much think to strike, He calls "handsup," but they don't heed, So two o' them get what they need, An' then what's left winds up the game A quick, clean fight it was the same. "Afore he dies Ben writes three words, A pencil scratch, fer when Death herds A man he don't write fancy, tho' 'Twas plain enuff fer her to know. 'I love her,' them's the words he wrote; 'I love her,' was his dyin' note. "An' so we ropes him on his hoss The painted one he names 'Old Boss/ An' when the sun was goin' down, We brings the sheriff into town. "I finds her on the hotel step, An' 'round her great, queer shadders crept; Her face shone white, jes' like two stars Was her dear eyes an' then the bars Of rough, hard talk I jes' let down, An' says, 'We brings him into town; He's dead, an' little does you care Of how or what or when or where !' "She says no word, jes' goes stone-blind, An' stumblin', tries my hand to find, An' when I tells her what Ben wrote, She t'ars a cry from out her throat [138] On the Trail of Love An' then come tears such tears such tears, They made me think I had the Queers; An' then I goes away to hide My own, own love fer which I'd lied. "An* that same night the Princess cried 'Til daylight by the Sheriff's side. "Next day she leaves, an' blamed if we Did not the worst kind hate to see Her go, an', well, it makes me sort o' sigh, Fer she jes' kissed us all goodby; Ne'r missed a one, 'cept Billy Bawn, Who says, "I takes mine lookin' on." "Now this here yarn o' woman's ways, I never sabes in my days; When Ben was livin' she would laff An' think it fun to ever gaff His heart, but when he ups an' dies She goes cl'ar wild an' cries an' cries," [139] Cowboy Lyrics THE MAN YOU COULDN'T GET You can cry and you can try, To the very day you die, Turnin' up a haughty nose Sort o' scornful, I suppose, But you're still a-dreamin' yet Of the man you couldn't get. Most as likely some day you Will get married hope you do An' your proud neck bend to rub Little dresses in a tub; But somehow I place this bet: Him you never will ferget. Course you knows time's comin' that You'll be homely, old an' fat; Then your man will wonder why Once a great while that you sigh ; Well you knows what makes you fret, Even then you can't ferget. Husband, yes, he'll wonder why That you turn a-drift a sigh, Tho' he'll feel it sort o' dim, That the said sigh hain't fer him It's fer one you love some yet : Fer the man you couldn't get. [140] On the Trail of Love He don't care, fer 'tis true, He jes' sort o' thinks o' you, As a girl he uster know One o' many, sure, that's so. But you're longin', sighin' yet, Fer the man you couldn't get. Can't ferget that night that you Loved him long an' sweet an' true, Can't ferget his voice an' style, Reckless, careless all the while, Can't ferget that old dark day, When he laffed and walked away. [141] Cowboy Lyrics SARY When Sary waves her hand to me, An' smiles as sweet as honey, She hands to me a bunch o' joy, What has no price in money. Right pert-like stands the little trick, An* says: "So long, my feller," An' well she knows "goodby's" the word, What I jes' hate to tell her. When Sary waves her hand to me, Say, there's no use o ? talkin', Away from her to jump my bronk, Be hardest kind o' walkin'. 'Pears ev'ry step comes slower an' My feet get so contrary, B'cause they knows it is not right To walk away from Sary. When Sary waves her hand to me, I feels so triflin' lonely, That I'd go back but then I knows That maiden would jes' only Give me the laff, an' then agin, It's that much more to suffer, Fer one goodby is tuff enuff, Whilst two goodbys is tuffer. [142] On the Trail of Love A LOTHARIO OF THE RANGE If Love won't come to me today, (I meets her at a dance), I'll saddle up an 9 sift away Across the range, Oh, my turtle dove, An' I ropes fer you that yearlin' Love : An' it's blue eyes an' golden hair, An' lips that makes me faint, An' a lovin' way that makes me say : "Dog-gone all cold restraint!" If Love won't come to me today, (I sees her back in town), Around this ranch I will not stay; Fer I hears you sigh an' hears you cry: "Without you, boy, I will surely die :" An' it's black eyes an' blacker hair, An' smiles to make me glad; An* a desp'rate way that makes me say : "I'll never make you mad." If Love won't come to me today, (Her old paw keeps a dog), I'll saddle up my bronco gay, An' hit the trail, Oh, I know you're true, An' I comes a-runnin', sweet, to you : [143] Cowboy Lyrics An' it's dark eyes an' soft brown hair, An' hands that cling to mine, An' a dreamy way that majces me say : "You certainly is fine." If Love won't come to me today, (I hates to talk so plain), My only stack I'll up an' play, An' stakes the wad that I beats the god, An' make him feel like a sun-burnt clod : An' it's girls, Oh, girls, please listen, Don't think I am a fright; Fer it hain't no fun to love jes' one, With millions more in sight, [144] On the Trail of Love BOY, WILL YOU CARE? Onct, twilight time, we's out an' she Jes' looks away away from me, Into the fadin' sunset range, An' then I sees her sweet face change, An' that sad look come driftin' there, An' then she says : "Boy, will you care, When I jes' fade like that there light Is soft a-fadin' into night?" An' I jes' laffs an' answers back, "Don't you no borrowed trubble pack, An' cross no cricks or fords, my dear, When they be miles away from here." An' sort o' like she was a kid, Around her one big arm I slid, An' gathers her up close to me, An' speakin' out some suddenly: "Jes' let the blamed old sunset fade, The dawn's a-comin', who's afraid? Fer time or age or anything, That the dark future has to spring, Sees me the same an' that is true, Fer, by the way, I jes' love you." [145] WHERE THE CHINOOK BLOWS The west wind wooed the blushing rose, And blew her kisses sweet with musk From dawn of day until the stars Shone tenderly thro' purple dusk. The west wind wooed the blushing rose, And sang to her a heart-song true, And placed upon her head a crown Of sunshine 1 s gold begemmed with dew. The west wind wed the bhishing rose, Embowered there in leafy nook. And heaven blessed their first-born fair, The fragrant and the warm Chinook. [149] WHERE THE CHINOOK BLOWS GREEN PRAIRIES Green prairies, green prairies all drenched in the rain, Or a-gleam in the dance of the sunbeams again; In the sheen and the shine of the dawn and the light, Or the murk and the gloom of the shadows of night ; In hearts that have known thee thy memories reign, And thy voices, clear calling, call never in vain. [151] Cowboy Lyrics THE RANCH HOUSE Upon the logs a wolf hide hangs, A saddle lies beside the door, And just within its shadow there A baby creeps upon the floor. [152] Where the Chinook Blows THE SPRING ROUNDUP A world of dust peopled by strange shapes That whirl and plunge and rear, A carnival of sound, deep, wild and hoarse, That speaks maternal fear. Stern work for man and trusty horse, Swing out, swing in and pass ! The day is hot and long, but yet Tonight, upon the grass, The horse will ease his fevered sides And man will count it blest To smoke and talk and lastly know The pleasant range of rest, [153] Cowboy Lyrics THE CAMP'S ASLEEP The camp's asleep and thro' the gloom, The white-topped wagons spectral loom; And weird the lonesome coyotes call, And quiet stars stand watch o'er all. The fire's down, the shadows creep, Their work is done, the camp's asleep. [154] Where the Chinook Blows TWILIGHT ON THE RANGE To soft subdue the wide wastes to its thrall, Palpatant, a purple haze enchanteth all; Silence, save the curlew's sad, insistent call, Or suddenly and sweet the mellow boom Of night hawks circling thro' the deepening gloom. [155] Cowboy Lyrics THE CROCUS Shadow-shapes of skulking wolves along the bluffs, They prey upon some weakling of the herd. Snow-mottled all the prairie lies, The sky an ashen gray, the sunlight blurred. Gone, gone are all the hopes that bloomed In summers past 'neath skies of blue. Lo, see ! a crocus in a bed of snow, Ah, hope of summer blooms anew. [156] Where the Chinook Blows TIGER LILIES Warrior flowers, with tossing plumes of red, In stately groups with flaunting banners spread; A triumphant host among the humble grass, Guarding every upland park and pass. [157] Cowboy Lyrics SAGE BRUSH A dusty trail, a burning sky, And splotch of leprous alkali; Gray, somber wastes that touch the rim Of Shadow Land, vast, vague and dim. [158] Where the Chinook Blows THE BAD LANDS Bluffs of ochre and brown and red, In varied glory flare, For here is the land of mystery, Where God plays solitaire. A gray plain and a soft mirage, In the blue haze over there, For here is the land of lonesomeness, Where God plays solitaire. A mudded butte and shapes that come And at the sunset stare, For here is the land of forgotten pasts, Where God plays solitaire. A silence that dwarfs the soul of man, Oh, the silence everywhere! For here is the land of things unsolved, Where God plays solitaire. [159] Cowboy Lyrics THE RATTLESNAKE O'er sun-baked plains he winds his way, Slow squirms his glittering length along, And from the sage brush sanded gray, Doth come his fearful warning song. Watch, watch for him, his sting is death, And in those angry, flaming eyes Doth lurk the awful hate of years. Sunning where the barren bluffs arise, He lies in lazy coil. The scaly lid Doth curtain o'er those vengeful eyes; Doth hold their murderous fire hid When lo, a step is heard, the horrid head Is swiftly reared and keen he sounds His challenge full of deathless hate. [160] Where the Chinook Blows THE BUTTES Half-hid in shadow, vague and 'drear, They loom like sculptured shapes of fear : Monuments and ghastly domes, And toppling turrets tall, That rear misshapen forms above Yon monstrous castle wall Yon castle wall where dwarfish pine, In ragged fringes set, To scar the sick moon's pallid face, With grotesque silhouette, [161] Cowboy Lyrics PRAIRIE WOLVES Up where the white bluffs fringe the plain, When heaven's lights are on the wane, They sing their songs as demons might Shriek wild a chorus to the night. Gaunt, gray brutes with dripping fangs, And eyes aflame with hunger-pangs, With lips curled back in snarls of hate, They wail a curse against their fate. [1621 Where the Chinook Blows THE WINDS OF THE WEST Oh, the west winds, the wild winds, glad va- grants and free, They sing of the lure of the long trail to me ; They sing of a bluff, a lone wolf on the crest, And the tang of the sage from the wastes to the west. Oh, the west winds, the wild winds, a mad symphony That shouts of the smoke of the line camps to me; And out of my soul bursts a passionate cry, "Oh, I come, I come home, for thy bondman am I." [163] ON THE TRAIL OF YESTERDAY On the trail of yesterday. Retrospective fancies play; In the camp fire burning low, Strange, wild pictures come and go. [167] ON THE TRAIL OF YESTERDAY ONJINJINTKA (An Indian Legend) Camped in the foot hills, their fires bright With spears of flame flung back the night, And there we smoked, the chief and I, And hearkened to the soft wind sigh, The distant music of the mountain stream, And all the voices that e'er seem, Half-hushed to whispers in the trees, To speak of night's vast mysteries. The old Sioux spoke and his eyes grew dim, As Mem'ry kissed her hand to him, And lured him on to tell the tale, Of why the lonesome pine trees wail, Thro' long, long nights of murk and dread, Like hopeless spirits of the dead. Onjinjintka, the Rose, lovelier than the flower, She came and blossomed in our hearts; We loved her as a child of the sunlight, Smiles of the dawn rested in her eyes, The spirit of the Good Spirit abided with her spirit, Thus we loved Onjinjintka, the Rose. [169] Cowboy Lyrics Many were the warriors who loved her, Many were the gifts laid at her father's feet; But to the warriors her father spoke : "She is my best beloved, the flower of my heart, Her way is my way." Calm as the mountain lake was the heart of the Rose The heart of Onjinjintka, the Rose. From the land of the rising sun a white man came, Yellow as gold was his hair and he laughed After the manner of his tribe Face to face met they face to face, Onjinjintka, the Rose and he of the yellow hair, The maid seeing no evil in his smile. For he would pluck the wild rose and when its fragrance died, Fling it down in the dust of forgetfulness. Onjinjintka basked in his smile, It was as the south wind to her soul. The white man abided with us to the Spirit Hills. Happy then was Onjinjintka, the Rose. Here at the foot of the Spirit Hills we made our camp, Going no farther, being fearful of the anger of the gods, [170] On the Trail of Yesterday Broken then was the heart of Onjinjintka Withered as the leaf in autumn was the spirit of Onjinjintka, the Rose. At the dawn she awoke and found him not, Found not her white lover by her side, In the dark night he had departed. His trail led to a great trail A great trail made by many wagons; For he had found his kind. The white man had found his people. For him Onjinjintka wailed as for the dead, Broken was the heart of Onjinjintka, the Rose. We heard her wailing in the darkness, Wailing for her love in the darkness. She wandered afar into the Spirit Hills. Her father called her and she answered not, We waited and she returned not, Empty were our hearts without Onjinjintka, the Rose. Hearken, the wind comes through the pines, It is the voice of her It is the voice of her wailing in the darkness, Wailing for him who loved her not. We shiver as we listen to her wailing, Empty are our hearts without Onjinjintka, the Rose. [171] Cowboy Lyrics THE GUN FIGHT Stern his eye and ever watchful, Stranger to deceit or lie, And his creed thus plain and simple : For the right 'tis good to die. Woman's honor, clean and spotless, All unsoiled its garments white, Rested safe beneath his banner, Tender, loyal, western knight. Dark his foe and ever taunting, Mocking lips and evil eyes, With a heart as foul as Hades, With a hate that never dies. Words of cunning, cruel malice Lo, at last he speaks a name, That in all the border country, Stands for woman's scarlet shame. Swift the flash of true hand backward, Then a bitter voice of doom ; And a soul all hope-forsaken, Fleeing thro' the outer gloom. Then the silence and the struggle Of the shape upon the sod, And a choking, husky whisper Of the awful name of God. [172] On the Trail of Yesterday That you loved her, be it spoken, Loved her long and loved her true, And as faith in the eternal, So she loved and trusted you. Know the truth, Oh, knightly brother, In the lean land of the sage, Justified, the word is written, On a white and sacred page. [173] Cowboy Lyrics LOVE AND DEATH (A Cowboy's Thoughts) I'm camping here alone tonight, And thoughts like ghosts all sad and pale, Rise up to haunt my heart and drift Along the twisting mem'ry trail. Her sweet, sad smile, her tender voice, The softness of her cheek and hand, But she is gone, Oh, tell me where! What trail leads out into that land? She used to say that every star, Was some dear soul whose work was done, And in that peaceful range above, God night-herd stands on every one. My soul just cries but yet those stars, No look of love or longing wear Oh, tell me, is there answer to That never-ending question, "Where?" And still the stars look coldly down, As cold and'solemn as can be; They never smile and her kind eyes, Forever held a smile for me. Up in the brakes a lone wolf howls, In long-drawn quavers mournfully; And then the silence and the stars, Make mock of wolf and mock of me. [174] On the Trail of Yesterday THE WESTERN TRAIL (A Sioux Version) In the beginning the Great Spirit gave the prairie rare gifts, The mirage, the warm rains of springtime, the grasses and the flowers, The buffalo, the village by the river and the children basking in the sun. Happy were we then, oh, my people! But from the East a white warrior came and with a mighty arrow wounded the prairie; And the grasses and the flowers withered and the herds and the villages melted away Melted, oh, my people! as the snow melts before the Chinook. In time the wound healed, but a scar was left a long, white scar across the prairie's breast, [175] Cowboy Lyrics TO A BUFFALO SKULL On the sable wall doth thy great skull gleam, A regal ornament; Speak thou, thro' the gloom of this dusky room, Once lord of a continent. Yea, once I was lord of a countless host, But gone is my kingly sway, And never again will I head the herd, In the spring when the young calves play. All bleached with the merciless sun and rain Of many and many a day, I'm all that is left to tell the sad tale How the black lines passed this way. [176] On the Trail of Yesterday AT THE GRAVE OF A BORDER CAVA- LIER No more ring the shouts and the boisterous laughter, That told of the joy of the bold cavalier; Who lived out his time, caring naught for Hereafter, Counting death as a favor and not as a fear. Gone, gone are the days and the nights of dis- order, When none but the coward from glory was barred, Now the grass decks thy grave, wild son of the border, And vandals thy headstone have mockingly marred. [177] Cowboy Lyrics THE DOOM OF THE WEAK Gaunt mother, the spring is not yet come, When grasses wave 'neath wild plum bloom ; When Nature smiles upon the range, Forgetful of the days of doom. And that pathetic, awkward calf, Of all that lives to you most dear, Cannot long lean upon your strength, Or feel your presence warm and near. The gray wolf's famished and his jaws Hang slavering with mad desire, Yet still your bold and dauntless front, His caution and his fear inspire. No fear of self, you rise supreme To all that's true, to all that's good In Nature's realm, since none surpass The sacrifice of motherhood. You lurch, and then the wolf's quick leap, The blood's red gush upon the snow And one last effort to protect The offspring that you cherished so. In vain you strive to reach, protect, Defender bold and mother meek; Yours is the doom all merciless The age-old doom of all the weak. [178] On the Trail of Yesterday THE NIGHT STAMPEDE The thunder rolled like a thousand drums, And the sky was torn in twain With a livid wound, and then the hiss Of the madly lashing rain. The herd swept on down the trail of doom, As a flare of yellow light For a heart-beat shone on him who rode By the side of Death that night. Oh, the clashing horns and grinding hooves, ' And the flick of pistol flame, And he who headed that wild stampede, Lone hero without a name ! Oh, the awful rush of plunging shapes, When the last, last stumble came, And the crash to earth of horse and man Death won, aye, he won the game, [179] Cowboy Lyrics THE CIRCLE Yesterday a cave-man spoke, This land is old, this land is old; Thus wail the voices in the smoke, This land is old. Yesterday a red man cried, This land is old, this land is old; I pass the haunts where cave-men died, This land is old. Yesterday a white man said, This land is old, this land is old; Behold this flinty arrow-head, This land is old. Yesterday a good man sighed, This land is old, this land is old; My city's pride a grave doth hide, This land is old. Yesterday a builder sang, This land is old, this land is old; From narrow trails my wide streets sprang, This land is old. Yesterday a savage cried, This land is old, this land is old ; What paths are these, grass-dimmed and wide? This land is old. [180] On the Trail of Yesterday IN PASSING You waved a slim brown hand to me With a grace that proved devotion To the subtile art, Oh, sailor bold, Across a grassy ocean. You drifted by with easy lope, Your body weaved with the motion Of your bronco-ship, staunch bark to ride Across a grassy ocean. [181] Cowboy Lyrics DEAR LITTLE FIRE Dear little fire by the upland trail, Well fed with twigs of oak, By you I'll dream and soft caress Your tiny hands of smoke. Dear little friend of the lonely hours, I'll give you after-while, A dainty lunch of crumpled leaves And grass to make you smile. Oh, then you'll romp and chatter and play, And laugh with quaint delight. And throw warm kisses at the sad And solemn-looking 'night, [182]