|Share page||Visit Us On FB|
26 SONGS OF THE COWBOYS
But when it comes to eatin' stuff that tasted good
all the way, I would n't quit a mess-box for a Broadway cafe.
For when he slides the hooks along the pot-rack,
piles on wood, And while the fire is burnin' down starts mixin'
somethin' good, An' you just keep a-looMn' 'til your eyes begin to
ache, And wonder what new kind of dish " Old Doughy"
's goin' to make. He puts in raisins, sugar, currants, and a lot of other
stuff, 'Til all at once you realize you're goin' to have
Now I reckon in the cities they'd spell that word in
French, 'Til you would n't know just what they meant —
a latigo or cinch — And you'd be none the wiser when they set it by
your plate, Nor, after it was eaten could you swear to what
In fact you would n't know 'til mornin' that you
had really dined And taken in a lot of stuff your in'ards couldn't grind. But you get the first reminder along about "last
guard," When that "Frenchy" stuff starts quarrelin' down
in your " front yard,"