she goes a-lopin', stranger,
Khaki-gowned, with flyin' hair,
Talk about your classy ridin',--
Wal, you're gettin' it right thar.
Jest a kid, but lemme tell you
When she warms a saddle seat
On that outlaw bronc a-straddle
She is one that can't be beat!

Every buckaroo that sees her
Tearin' cross the range astride
Has some mighty jealous feelin's
Wishin' he knowed how to ride.
Why, she'll take a deep barranca
Six-foot wide and never peep;
That 'ere cayuse she's a-forkin'
Sure's somethin' on the leap.

Ride? Why, she can cut a critter
From the herd as neat as pie,
Read a brand out on the ranges
Just as well as you or I.
Ain't much yet with the riata,
But you give her a few years
And no puncher with the outfit
Will beat her a-ropin' steers.

Proud o' her? Say, lemme tell you,
She's the queen of all the range;
Got a grip upon our heart-strings
Mighty strong, but that ain't strange;
'Cause she loves the lowin' cattle,
Loves the hills and open air,
Dusty trails on blossomed canons
God has strung around out here.

Hoof-beats poundin' down the mesa,
Chicken-time in lively tune,
Jest below the trail to Keeber's,--
Wait, you'll see her pretty soon.
You kin bet I know that ridin',--
Now she's toppin' yonder swell.
Thar she is; that's her a-smilin'
At the bars of the corral.
_Anonymous._

I WANT MY TIME

I'M night guard all alone tonight,
Dead homesick, lonely, tired and blue;
And none but you can make it right;
My heart is hungry, Girl, for you.

I've longed all night to hug you, Dear;
To speak my love I'm at a loss.
But just as soon as daylight's here
I'm goin' straight to see the boss.

"How long's the round-up goin' to run?
Another week, or maybe three?
Give me my time, then, I am done.
No, I'm not sick. Three weeks? Oh gee!"

I know, though, when I've had enough.
I will not work,--darned if I will.
I'm goin' to quit, and that's no bluff.
Say, gimme some tobacco, Bill.
_Anonymous._

WHO'S THAT CALLING SO SWEET?

THE herds are gathered in from plain and hill,
Who's that a-calling?
The boys are sleeping and the boys are still,
Who's that a-calling?
'Twas the wind