Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
||
SONGS OF THE COWBOYS |
||
|
||
"Why, of course my Gray Buck horse Will run on him," he said. "Show me his track. I'll bring him back, I'll bet, alive or dead."
Up Johnny spoke: "No brags I make; Straight goods I give you now: I '11 put my string on anything From a coyote to a cow."
Then up spoke Bob: " With this herejob You bet I'm going to cope; Just you watch me if you want to see How Texas punchers rope."
These cowboys three for modesty Have always been well known; For don't you know, unless they blow, Their horns they 'd not be blown?
Meanwhile the steer, devoid of fear, Was trailing o'er the Mesa. He sniffed the air; what did he care? He knew he was a racer.
With firm intent on business bent Three youth rode up the trail. The steer he saw and dropped his jaw, And then he whisked his tail.
The other day I chanced that way: That steer was grinning yet. Six weeks have passed; not yet the last Of why that steer they did n't get. |
||
|
||