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ARAPHOE, OR BUCKSKIN JOE
'? | ^WAS a calm and peaceful evening in a camp
X called Araphoe,
And the whiskey was a running with a soft and gentle
flow, The music was a-ringing in a dance hall cross the
way, And the dancers was a-swinging just as close as they
could lay.
People gathered round the tables, a-betting with
their wealth, And near by stood a stranger who had come there
for his health. He was a peaceful little stranger though he seemed
to be unstrung; For just before he'd left his home he'd separated
with one lung.
Nearby at a table sat a man named Hankey Dean, A tougher man says Hankey, buckskin chaps had
never seen. But Hankey was a gambler and he was plum sure to
lose; For he had just departed with a sun-dried stack of
blues.
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