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THE TRANSFORMATION OF A TEXAS
GIRL S
HE was a Texas maiden, she came of low degree,
Her clothes were worn and faded, her feet from shoes were free; Her face was tanned and freckled, her hair was sun-burned, too,
Her whole darned tout ensemble was painful for to view!
She drove a lop-eared mule team attached unto a plow,
The trickling perspiration exuding from her brow; And often she lamented her cruel, cruel fate, As but a po' white's daughter down in the Lone Star State. No courtiers came to woo her, she never had a
beau,
Her misfit face precluded such things as that, you know,—
She was nobody's darling, no feller's solid girl, And poets never called her an uncut Texas pearl. Her only two companions was those two flea-bit mules, And these she but regarded as animated tools To plod along the furrows in patience up and down And pull the ancient wagon when pap'd go to town. 27 |
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