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A ND as, my friend, you ask me what makes me sad and still, And why my brow is darkened like the clouds upon
the hill; Run in your pony closer and I'll tell to you the tale Of Utah Carroll, my partner, and his last ride on the trail.
'Mid the cactus and the thistles of Mexico's fair
lands, Where the cattle roam in thousands, a-many a herd
and brand, There is a grave with neither headstone, neither date
nor name,— There lies my partner sleeping in the land from which
We rode the range together and had rode it side by
side; I loved him as a brother, I wept when Utah died; We were rounding up one morning, our work was
almost done, When on the side the cattle started on a mad and
The boss man's little daughter was holding on that side.