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Little Joe, The Wrangler
But there was one a-missin' and we knew it at a
glance, 'Twas our little Texas stray, poor Wrangling Joe.
The next morning just at day break, we found where
Rocket fell, Down in a washout twenty feet below; And beneath the horse, mashed to a pulp,— his spur
had rung the knell,— Was our little Texas stray, poor Wrangling Joe.