They were wonders down at Casey’s, were the old men at the Caseys’—
They’re the boys could ride the “bad ’uns” in the days of long ago!
Faith, and old man Casey told ’em of a way he had to hold ’em.
Man, “the deuce an outlaw thrun him,” when he “got a proper show”;
Ay, and each man “upped and showed ’em” how he “handled ’em, an’ rode ’em”—
Pshaw! there never was a native these old riders could outclass.
Once again they were “among ’em,” and they “roped ’em” and they “slung ’em”
On the stockyard fence at Casey’s—smoking, “pitchin’,” down at Casey’s—
Spending Sunday down at Casey’s after Mass.
Hard and cold is youth to fancies which around the old men cling;