| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
|
|||
|
OLD NORTH |
117 |
||
|
|
|||
|
Then he married, en got him religion, en tells how
you must n't do wrong, How a Brand is the cowman's protection — then
he'll deal you a Gospel Songl
But I'll tell you, Old Hank was the slickest, that
ever laid line on a steer, Or burnt over a brand with a runnin'-iron, or worked
on an old cow's ear 1 'Course, friends, all this talk's confidential,—I
would n't want Old Hank to see That I have n't changed my damned religion, since
the Trail Herd of Seventy-Three! |
|||
|
|
|||
|
"OLD NORTH" By N. Howard Thorp
When the Mormons drifted southward, He was one of a ten-span team, The biggest young ox them Utah Bull-whackers hed ever seen.
Tawny en bony en holler,
At three years full six feet tall,
En he'd break the chain whenever he'd
strain En a heavy wagon stall.
Out of a team of twenty, Which died in the White Sands Pass, He alone pulled through en made his way To the springs of San Nicolas. |
|||
|
|
|||