Ridin’ without hoss er engine ’n’ goin’ at a break-neck pace:
Course I needn’t stand here waitin’, both insisted I should come,
But I vow I’ll not be reckless when I am so fer from hum:
Clear out here by th’ Pacific, jist as fur as we kin git,
An’ if we stay here much longer I declare I’ll hev a fit.
It’s th’ most deceivin’ kentry as ever’ one’ll say
Ever’ drap o’ water salty in th’ hull o’ Frisco bay.
Oh, I’ve tramped these pesky sidewalks till my feet is lame an’ sore,
An’ a-yearnin’ ever’ minute fur Newbrasky’s fertile shore!
Then they brag about their scenery! Californy! Humph! O dear!