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68 SONGS OF THE COWBOYS |
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You'll see the Matachines in a dance that's all their
own; The wild Comanches on horseback as they storm
a native home. You'll find there's no restrictions on what you have
to do, En scenes change like the seasons, each day brings
something new. Wear old clothes, hunt, fish, en idle; do exactly as
you please, Forget set rules en schedules — with a good horse
between your knees.
FRIJOLE BEANSES By N. Howard Thorp 1919 I've cooked you in the strongest gypsum water; I've boiled you up in water made of snow; I've eaten you above the Arctic Circle, I've chewed on you in southern Mexico. In the camp-fire, on the stove, or in the oven, "Or buried in the ashes overnight, You've saved my life on more than one occasion — Oh, frijole bean, you're simply out of sight.
Of course you know, as far as one's digestion Is concerned, you'd ever break it plumb in two Without a single moment's hesitation — Least that's the reputation given you. Well here's to your health, you little brown frijole, Your health I'll pledge and by you always stand; You're eaten by the rich and by the lowly, You're an outlawed product of our Western land. |
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