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Ranch and Range
That's why I'm proud to stand an* say, Doc's long on friendship that-o-way; Fer friendship him will alters bring An' make him suffer anything.
Doc looks at folks what put on airs, An' pass out frozen-featured stares, With such contempt he jes' can't speak— Jes' shoves his pipe into his cheek, An' one eye at the ceilin' winks, An' sort o' thinks—jes' sort o' thinks.
You don't know Doc? well, Doc don't care, Altho' you'd be most welcome there— Out there in them old solemn hills— But Doc don't get no sudden thrills On meetin' folks a-tourin' West, Doc says old friends are alters best.
You see, it's hard to understand Us people of the western land; We've been out there so dog-goned long We never sing our friendship song In front of folks, like Injuns did, We make our heart camps fire-hid.
Doc says to me not long ago: "There's jes' some things I seem to know, There's not much to this worldly game Of trailin' fortune or bright fame.