Songs of the Cattle Trail and Cow Camp | Page 4

break his pride
Till, a-hitchin' up one leggin',
Boastful Bill cut loose an' cried:
"I'm a ornery proposition for to hurt,
I fulfil my earthly mission with a quirt,
I can ride the highest liver
'Twixt the Gulf an' Powder River,
An' I'll break this thing as easy as I'd flirt."

So Bill climbed the Northern fury
An' they mangled up the air
Till a native of Missouri
Would have owned the brag was fair.
Though the plunges kept him reelin'
An' the wind it flapped his shirt,
Loud above the hoss's squealin'
We could hear our friend assert:
"I'm the one to take such rockin's as a joke;
Someone hand me up the makin's of a smoke.
If you think my fame needs brightnin',
Why, I'll rope a streak o' lightnin'
An' spur it up an' quirt it till it's broke."

Then one caper of repulsion
Broke that hoss's back in two,
Cinches snapped in the convulsion,
Skyward man and saddle flew,
Up they mounted, never flaggin',
And we watched them through our tears,
While this last, thin bit o' braggin'
Came a-floatin' to our ears:
"If you ever watched my habits very close,
You would know I broke such rabbits by the gross.
I have kept my talent hidin',
I'm too good for earthly ridin',
So I'm off to bust the lightnin'--Adios!"

Years have passed since that ascension;
Boastful Bill ain't never lit;
So we reckon he's a-wrenchin'
Some celestial outlaw's bit.
When the night wind flaps our slickers,
And the rain is cold and stout,
And the lightnin' flares and flickers,
We can sometimes hear him shout:
"I'm a ridin' son o' thunder o' the sky,
I'm a broncho twistin' wonder on the fly.
Hey, you earthlin's, shut your winders,
We're a-rippin' clouds to flinders.
If this blue-eyed darlin' kicks at you, you die."

Star-dust on his chaps and saddle,
Scornful still of jar and jolt,
He'll come back sometime a-straddle
Of a bald-faced thunderbolt;
And the thin-skinned generation
Of that dim and distant day
Sure will stare with admiration
When they hear old Boastful say:
"I was first, as old raw-hiders all confest,
I'm the last of all rough riders, and the best.
Huh! you soft and dainty floaters
With your aeroplanes and motors,
Huh! are you the greatgrandchildren of the West?"
From recitation, original, by Charles Badger Clark, Jr.

THE TEXAS COWBOY AND THE MEXICAN GREASER

I THINK we can all remember when a Greaser hadn't no show
In Palo Pinto particular,--it ain't very long ago;
A powerful feelin' of hatred ag'in the whole Greaser race
That murdered bold Crockett and Bowie pervaded all in the place.
Why, the boys would draw on a Greaser as quick as they would on a
steer;
They was shot down without warnin' often, in the memory of many here.
One day the bark of pistols was heard ringin' out in the air,
And a Greaser, chased by some ranchmen, tore round here into the
square.
I don't know what he's committed,--'tain't likely anyone knew,--
But I wouldn't bet a check on the issue; if you knew the gang, neither
would you.
Breathless and bleeding, the Greaser fell down by the side of the
wall;
And a man sprang out before him,--a man both strong and tall,--
By his clothes I should say a cowboy,--a stranger in town, I think,--
With his pistol he waved back the gang, who was wild with rage and
drink.
"I warn ye, get back!" he said, "or I'll blow your heads in two!
A dozen on one poor creature, and him wounded and bleeding, too!"
The gang stood back for a minute; then up spoke Poker Bill:
"Young man, yer a stranger, I reckon. We don't wish yer any ill;
But come out of the range of the Greaser, or, as sure as I live,
you'll croak;"
And he drew a bead on the stranger. I'll tell yer it wa'n't no joke.
But the stranger moven' no muscle as he looked in the bore of Bill's
gun;
He hadn't no thought to stir, sir; he hadn't no thought to run;
But he spoke out cool and quiet, "I might live for a thousand year
And not die at last so nobly as defendin' this Greaser here;
For he's wounded, now, and helpless, and hasn't had no fair show;
And the first of ye boys that strikes him, I'll lay that first one
low."
The gang respected the stranger that for another was willing to die;
They respected the look of daring they saw in that cold, blue eye.
They saw before them a hero that was glad in the right to fall;
And he was a Texas cowboy,--never heard of Rome at all.
Don't tell me of yer Romans, or yer bridge bein' held by three;
True manhood's the same in Texas as it was in Rome, d'ye see?
Did the Greaser escape? Why certain. I saw the hull crowd over thar
At the ranch of Bill Simmons, the gopher, with their glasses over the
bar.
From recitation. Anonymous.

BRONCHO VERSUS BICYCLE

THE first that we saw of the high-tone tramp
War over thar at our Pecos camp;
He war comin' down the Santa Fe trail
Astride of a wheel with a crooked tail,
A-skinnin' along with a merry song
An' a-ringin' a little warnin' gong.
He looked so outlandish, strange and queer
That all of us grinned from ear to ear,
And every boy on the round-up