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Little Joe, The Wrangler
So the boss he cut him out a mount and kindly put
him on, For he sorta liked this little kid somehow. Learned him to wrangle horses and to try to know
them all, And get them in at daylight if he could; To follow the chuck-wagon and always hitch the
team, And to help the cocinero rustle wood.
We had driven to the Pecos, the weather being fine; We had camped on the south side in a bend; When a norther commenced blowin', we had doubled
up our guard, For it taken all of us to hold them in. Little Joe, the wrangler, was called out with the rest; Though the kid had scarcely reached the herd, When the cattle they stampeded, like a hailstorm
long they fled, Then we were all a-ridin' for the lead.
'Midst the streaks of lightin' a horse we could see in
the lead, 'Twas Little Joe, the wrangler, in the lead; He was riding Old Blue Rocket with a slicker o'er
his head, A tryin' to check the cattle in their speed. At last we got them milling and kinda quieted down, And the extra guard back to the wagon went;