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The Zebra Dun
And traveled right straight up for all that he was
worth. A-pitching and a-squealing, a-having wall-eyed fits, His hind feet perpendicular, his front ones in the
bits.
We could see the tops of the mountains under Dunny
every jump, But the stranger he was growed there just like the
camel's hump; The stranger sat upon him and curled his black
mustache Just like a summer boarder waiting for his hash.
He thumped him in the shoulders and spurred him
when he whirled, To show them flunky punchers that he was the wolf
of the world. When the stranger had dismounted once more upon
the ground, We knew he was a thoroughbred and not a gent
from town;
The boss who was standing round watching of the
show, Walked right up to the stranger and told him he
needn't go,— " If you can use the lasso like you rode old Zebra
Dun,
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