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American Ballads and Folk Songs
Old Sandy Bob was a riata-man
With his gut-line coiled up neat, But he shakes her out an' he builds a loop
An' he ropes the Devil's hind feet*
They stretches him out and they tails him down, An' while their irons were gettin' hot
They cropped and swallow-forked his ears An' branded him up a lot.
They prunes him up with a dehorning saw An' they knotted his tail for a jokej
An' then they rode off an' left him there Tied up to a lilac-jack oak.
Now when you're way up high in the Syree Peaks
An' you hear one hell of a wail, It's only the Devil a-bellerin' round
About those knots in his tail. |
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SUSAN VAN DUSAN*
Oh, Susan Van Dusan, The gal of my choosin', She sticks to my bosom Like glue.
Oh, Susan Van Dusan, Oh, I will quit usin' Tobacco and boozin' For you.
•Contributed to the collection of Dr. Hazard, Mills College, California, by Helen-Ruth Nelson, who writes: "This song was sung to me by my brother after he had spent a summer with cowboys on a ranch In the vicinity of Salmon, Idaho." |
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