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But yesterday we saw her dressed up in gorgeous style!
A half a dozen fellows were basking in her smile!
She'd jewels on her fingers, and jewels in her ears —
Great sparkling, flashing brilliants that hung as frozen tears!
The feet once nude and soil-stained were clad in Frenchy boots,
The once tanned face bore tintings of miscellaneous fruits;
The voice that once admonished the mules to move along
Was tuned to new-born music, as sweet as Siren's song!
[p. 29]
Her tall and lanky father, one knows as "Sleepy Jim,"
Is now addressed as Colonel by men who honor him;
And youths in finest raiment now take him by the paw,
Each in the hope that some day he'll call him dad-in-law.
Their days of toil are over, their sun has risen at last,
A gold-embroidered curtain now hides their rocky past;
For was it not discovered their little patch of soil
Had rested there for ages above a flow of oil?
James Barton Adams.
THE GLORY TRAIL
'WAY high up the Mogollons, [1] Among the mountain tops,
A lion cleaned a yearlin's bones
And licked his thankful chops,
When on the picture who should ride,
A-trippin' down the slope,
But High-Chin Bob, with sinful pride
And mav'rick-hungry rope.
"Oh, glory be to me," says he,
"And fame's unfadin' flowers!
All meddlin' hands are far away;
I ride my good top-hawse today
And I'm top-rope of the Lazy J —
Hi! kitty cat, you're ours!"
That lion licked his paw so brown
And dreamed soft dreams of veal —
And then the circlin' loop sung down
And roped him 'round his meal.
He yowled quick fury to the world
Till all the hills yelled back;
The top-hawse gave a snort and whirled
And Bob caught up the slack.
[p. 31]
"Oh, glory be to me," laughs he.
"We hit the glory trail.
No human man as I have read
Darst loop a ragin' lion's head,
Nor ever hawse could drag one dead
Until we told the tale."