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THE ZEBRA DUN
W E were camped on the plains at the head of the Cimarron When along came a stranger and stopped to arger
some. He looked so very foolish that we began to look
around, We thought he was a greenhorn that had just 'scaped from town.
We asked if he had been to breakfast; he hadn't had
a smear, So we opened up the chuck-box and bade him have
his share. He took a cup of coffee and some biscuits and some
beans, And then began to talk and tell about foreign kings
About the Spanish war and fighting on the seas With guns as big as steers and ramrods big as
trees,— And about old Paul Jones, a mean, fighting son of a
gun, Who was the grittiest cuss that ever pulled a gun.
Such an educated feller his thoughts just came in herds,