| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
|
|||
|
SPECKLES |
143 |
||
|
|
|||
|
The first time that ever I saw him was nineteen
year ago last spring. 'T was the year we had grasshoppers, that come en
et up everything, That a feller rode up here one evening en wanted to
pen overnight A small bunch of horses, he said, en I told him I
guessed 't was all right.
Well, the feller was busted, the horses was thin, en the grass around here kind o' good,
En he said if I'd let him hold here a few days, he'd settle with me when he could.
So I told him all right, turn them loose down the draw, that the latchstring was always untied;
He was welcome to stop a few days if he liked en rest from his long, weary ride.
Well, the cuss stay'd around for two or three weeks
till at last he decided to go, And that horse over yonder being too poor to move
he gimme — the cuss had no dough; Well, at first the darn brute was as wild as a deer,
en would snort when he came to the branch, En it took two cow-punchers, on good horses, too,
to handle him here at the ranch.
Well, winter come on and the range it got hard, anA my mustang commenced to get thin,
So I fed him along and rode him around some and found out old Speckles was game;
For that was what the other cuss called him, just Speckles, no more or no less; |
|||
|
|
|||