Songs of the Cattle Trail and Cow Camp Part 7

Oh, I sometimes think I'm locoed An' jes fit fer herdin' sheep, 'Cause I only think of Susie When I'm wakin' or I'm sleep.

I'm wearin' Cupid's hobbles, An' I'm tied to Love's stake-pin, And when my heart was branded The irons sunk deep in.

Chorus:--

I take my saddle, Sundays,-- The one with inlaid flaps,-- And don my new sombrero And my white angora chaps; Then I take a bronc for Susie And she leaves her pots and pans And we figure out our future And talk o'er our homestead plans.

Chorus:-- _Anonymous._

A BORDER AFFAIR

SPANISH is the lovin' tongue, Soft as music, light as spray; 'Twas a girl I learnt it from Livin' down Sonora way.

I don't look much like a lover, Yet I say her love-words over Often, when I'm all alone-- "_Mi amor, mi corazon._"

Nights when she knew where I'd ride She would listen for my spurs, Throw the big door open wide, Raise them laughin' eyes of hers, And my heart would nigh stop beatin'

When I'd hear her tender greetin'

Whispered soft for me alone-- "_Mi amor! mi corazon!_"

Moonlight in the patio, Old Senora noddin' near, Me and Juana talkin' low So the "madre" couldn't hear-- How those hours would go a-flyin', And too soon I'd hear her sighin', In her little sorry-tone-- "_Adios, mi corazon._"

But one time I had to fly For a foolish gamblin' fight, And we said a swift good-bye On that black, unlucky night.

When I'd loosed her arms from clingin', With her words the hoofs kept ringin', As I galloped north alone-- "_Adios, mi corazon._"

Never seen her since that night; I kaint cross the Line, you know.

She was Mex. and I was white; Like as not it's better so.

Yet I've always sort of missed her Since that last, wild night I kissed her, Left her heart and lost my own-- "_Adios, mi corazon._"

_Charles B. Clark, Jr._

SNAGTOOTH SAL

I WAS young and happy and my heart was light and gay, Singin', always singin' through the sunny summer day; Happy as a lizard in the wavin' chaparral, Walkin' down through Laramie with Snagtooth Sal.

Sal, Sal, My heart is broke today-- Broke in two forever when they laid you in the clay; I would give creation to be walkin' with my gal-- Walkin' down through Laramie with Snagtooth Sal.

Bury me tomorrow where the lily blossoms spring Underneath the willows where the little robins sing.

You will yearn to see me--but ah, nevermore you shall-- Walkin' down through Laramie with Snagtooth Sal.

Refrain:--

Plant a little stone above the little mound of sod; Write: "Here lies a lovin' an' a busted heart, beG.o.d!

Nevermore you'll see him walkin' proudly with his gal-- Walkin' down through Laramie with Snagtooth Sal."

Sal, Sal, My heart is broke today-- Broke in two forever when they laid you in the clay; I would give creation to be walkin' with my gal-- Walkin' down through Laramie with Snagtooth Sal.

_Lowell O. Reese, In the Sat.u.r.day Evening Post._

LOVE LYRICS OF A COWBOY

IT hain't no use fer me to say There's others with a style an' way That beats hers to a fare-you-well, Fer, on the square, I'm here to tell I jes can't even start to see But what she's perfect as kin be.

Fer any fault I finds excuse-- I'll tell you, pard, it hain't no use Fer me to try to raise a hand, When on my heart she's run her brand.

The bunk-house ain't the same to me; The bunch jes makes me weary--Gee!

I never knew they was so coa.r.s.e-- I warps my face to try to force A smile at each old gag they spring; Fer I'd heap ruther hear her sing "Sweet Adeline," or softly play The "Dream o' Heaven" that-a-way.

Besides this place, most anywhere I'd ruther be--so she was there.

She called me "dear," an' do you know, My heart jes skipped a beat, an' tho'

I'm hard to feaze, I'm free to yip My reason nearly lost its grip.

She called me "dear," jes sweet an' slow, An' lookin' down an' speakin' low; An' if I had ten lives to live, With everything the world could give, I'd shake 'em all without one fear If 'fore I'd go she'd call me "dear."

You wonders why I slicks up so On Sundays, when I gits to go To see her--well, I'm free to say She's like religion that-a-way.

Jes sort o' like some holy thing, As clean as young gra.s.s in the spring; An' so before I rides to her I looks my best from hat to spur-- But even then I hain't no right To think I look good in her sight.

If she should pa.s.s me up--say, boy, You jes put hobbles on your joy; First thing you know, you gits so gay Your luck stampedes and gits away.

An' don't you even start a guess That you've a cinch on happiness; Fer few e'er reach the Promised Land If they starts headed by a band.

Ride slow an' quiet, humble, too, Or Fate will slap its brand on you.

The old range sleeps, there hain't a stir.

Less it's a night-hawk's sudden whir, Or cottonwoods a-whisperin while The red moon smiles a lovin' smile.

An' there I set an' hold her hand So glad I jes can't understand The reason of it all, or see Why all the world looks good to me; Or why I sees in it heap more Of beauty than I seen before.

Fool talk, perhaps, but it jes seems We're ridin' through a range o' dreams; Where medder larks the year round sing, An' it's jes one eternal spring.

An' time--why time is gone--by gee!

There's no such thing as time to me Until she says, "Here, boy, you know You simply jes have got to go; It's nearly twelve." I rides away, "Dog-gone a clock!" is what I say.

_R. V. Carr._

THE BULL FIGHT

THE couriers from Chihuahua go To distant Cusi and Santavo, Announce the feast of all the year the crown-- _Se corren los toros!_ And Juan brings his Pepita into town.

The rancherias on the mountain side, The haciendas of the Llano wide, Are quickened by the matador's renown.

_Se corren los toros!_ And Juan brings his Pepita into town.

The women that on ambling burros ride, The men that trudge behind or close beside Make groups of dazzling red and white and brown.

_Se corren los toros!_ And Juan brings his Pepita into town.